Blood Hunt
Author: Jessica Wayne
Date: 2020-09-15 15:45:50+00:00
Description: Vampires are vengeful bastards. Detective Rainey Astor walks a dangerous line between the human and supernatural worlds. As a vampire hunter, she's a formidable opponent, having killed hundreds of their kind. Yet, when her latest foray into the supernatural world goes terribly wrong, she finds herself rescued by the very creature she's vowed to kill. Elijah Hawthorne is unlike any vampire Rainy has ever met. His sexy as hell exterior hides a tortured soul seeking redemption. Rainey knows she should avoid him at all costs, but fate has other plans. Together, they're forced down a twisted path o
Publisher: B.A.D. Publishing
Rights: Copyright 2020 Jessica Wayne. All rights reserved.

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Blood Hunt

Vampire Huntress Chronicles book 1

Jessica Wayne

To Black Rifle Coffee Company.

To Skittles.

And to Jameson Cold Brew.

Blood Hunt

Vampire Huntress Chronicles, book 1
by Jessica Wayne

Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved.

ISBN 13: 978-1-952490-21-7

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Edited by Dawn

Proofread by Dominique Laura

Cover Design by Bewitching Covers by Rebecca Frank

Contents

Prologue

1. Rainey

2. Rainey

3. Elijah

4. Rainey

5. Elijah

6. Rainey

7. Elijah

8. Rainey

9. Rainey

10. Rainey

11. Rainey

12. Elijah

13. Rainey

14. Elijah

15. Rainey

16. Elijah

17. Rainey

18. Rainey

19. Elijah

20. Rainey

21. Elijah

22. Rainey

23. Elijah

24. Rainey

25. Rainey

26. Rainey

27. Elijah

28. Rainey

29. Elijah

30. Rainey

31. Rainey

32. Rainey

33. Elijah

34. Rainey

35. Elijah

36. Rainey

37. Elijah

38. Rainey

39. Elijah

40. Rainey

41. Rainey

Also By Jessica Wayne

About the Author

Contemporary Romance by J.W. Ashley

Prologue

Rainey

Blood drips from the tips of my fingers, falling in droplets onto the wood under my feet. The sound should have been silent, but I can hear every bead slam into the floor as though it’s made of stone.

It mats my hair and slips down my forehead, crimson tears shed for a life lost entirely too soon. A soul ripped from this world by cowardly fucking thieves who stole away in the middle of the night with the only family I had left.

My muscles burn, my body aching from a fight I don’t remember having. A fight that resulted in deaths of things I don’t recall killing. I don’t even know if they’re human or monster.

Broken bodies cover the floor, pieces of whatever they were before the only things that remain. Fear grips me, nearly snuffing out my grief, if only for a moment as I look around at the damage.

The destruction.

I killed them all. I don’t even know how I got here. The last thing I remember is standing in an alley over the broken body of my sister. I don’t remember leaving, walking away from her. Yet, here I am, in a strange warehouse, in the center of chaos, my sobs and the fucking blood dripping onto the floor the only things I can hear.

Pain, unlike anything I’ve ever felt, suffocates me, and for the first time, I’ve lost the will to fight.

To stand.

There’s no one left to lead me home. No one left to walk me through what I’m supposed to do now.

I’m alone.

Completely and utterly alienated from a world I’ve only just begun to understand.

My sister will never smile again. Never binge cheesy movies while we pretend the fate of the world didn’t partially rest on our shoulders.

Delaney is dead. And as I sit here, at the epicenter of death, I can’t help but think it should have been me.

An anguished cry rips from my throat, my chest so fucking heavy I can barely breathe. My shoulders slump, shaking beneath the weight of my despair, and I fall forward, crumbling to the floor. I curl into myself and scream.

She’s gone.

1

Rainey

Death and I are old friends. We’ve cried together, laughed together. Basically, other than actually dying myself, I’ve been up close and personal with the Reaper more times than I can count. Tonight will be no different.

Music pumps through the speakers, filling the club with the steady thump of Imagine Dragons’ “Natural.” The air is thick, muggy, and I wish holding my breath for extended periods of time was among my talents. Sweaty bodies surround me, the stench nearly overwhelming due to my heightened sense of smell. Add to that the overapplication of body spray—by both males and females alike—and it’s safe to say that tonight has been one constant effort to fight the urge to hurl.

Typically, I try like hell to avoid places like this since my magnified senses make it damn near impossible to get in and out without getting nauseous. I can kill a monster with my bare hands, go home drenched in blood, but crowded rooms full of humans doing dumb shit? Count me the hell out. Unfortunately, it’s unavoidable this time.

Because tonight, I’m hunting. Somewhere in this club is a monster seeking prey. A predator who believes they’re the dominant species. I’m here to remind them that hunters like me are the apex of the food chain—even if there aren’t many of us left.

The strobe lights change from red to blue as the music switches to the fast tempo of a song I don’t actively recognize. People around me continue moving, their hips rotating to a new beat. Somewhere, a glass breaks, so I stop mid-step and try to focus.

“What the hell, dude?”

“Sorry, man, didn’t see you there.”

Since it’s nothing more than a human altercation, I continue moving through the crowd. I’m not here to police the humans. I’m here to hunt beasts. Soft moans reach me, and I stop again, turning in a slow circle toward the direction of the noise. Steady thumps follow, and I roll my eyes when my gaze finds a couple having sex against a far wall. Their gasps and moans reach me as though I’m standing directly in front of them rather than a good five feet away. He’s behind her, his back to me, hips thrusting as three onlookers—not including me—watch, their own pulses racing. I can hear those too—the thundering hearts of the aroused.

Of course, I’m not surprised. This club is notorious for both sex and drugs. It’s far enough on the outskirts of the city to be virtually invisible to city officials, which makes it prime hunting grounds for Creatures of the Night. Their own Council can’t be bothered by human deaths unless it’s followed up with an investigation that might lead the Norms to their door.

A man bumps into me, his hand reaching out and grabbing a handful of my breast through the leather of my jacket as he pretends to fall.

“Woah!” He removes his hand from my body and stares down at me, a lopsided smile on his face. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t see you there.” His eyes half close in a slow blink, showcasing just how drunk he is. Awesome. Nothing like having to handle a drunk douchebag.

His hair is buzzed so short I can see his scalp, and his eyes are circled with thick black eyeliner. Thin lips pull up into a wider smile as he studies me studying him. With fingernails painted black, he reaches forward and brushes my shoulder. “Haven’t seen you here before.”

I don’t reply right away as I try to figure out how to handle the asshat. I could break his fingers, dislocate his shoulder. My options are endless in a place like this. No one would see me. I’m fast, and my increased strength would make it damn near impossible for him to get away before it’s done.

The stranger leans down, and his hot, putrid breath washes over my face, making me want to hurl for a whole new reason. I’ll take the sweat combined with too-much-cologne stench over drunk asshole breath any day. “Wanna dance?” he asks, leaning back just enough that I can see a glimmer of hope in his dark eyes.

“Not on your life,” I shoot back and shrug away. A drunk human isn’t worth my time, not when each moment that passes could mean more blood spilled.

“Whatever, bitch,” he murmurs. Anyone else wouldn’t have heard him over the music, but I’m used to it. Being able to hear when no one thinks you can has been a burden I’ve carried nearly all my life. Everyone thinks they want to know how others view them. But trust me. When you’re a teenage girl trying to fit in—this is a horrible superpower to possess.

Someone steps on my foot, a woman who doesn’t even bother to show me an apologetic glance. Fucking Norms. Not that I mind humans at all. I rather enjoy the sober ones who don’t get hammered and high in one night. My best friend is a human who likes to joke she’s the weirdest of the bunch. I wish I could tell her just how wrong she is.

With a deep, calming breath, I continue pushing through the crowd until I reach the polished bar on the other side of the room. Hundreds of bottles line glass shelves arranged on a massive mirror mounted behind the bar. The dark wood of the bartop is gorgeous, smooth. The entire establishment is top-notch and is crawling with the city’s wealthiest drug and sex addicts. Guess that’s why they charge a hundred bucks a head to even come in here. Reaching down into the copper bowl before me, I grab a handful of peanuts.

Gross? Absolutely. But it’s not like I get sick. Human ailments can’t do shit to my hunter body. Popping them into my mouth, I turn around and lean back against the bar so I can gain a better look at the people in the club. The dark blue lighting and fast-moving patrons make it difficult for me to focus much on features, so I close my eyes and listen.

“This stool taken?”

A gruff voice, thick with a delicious accent, shoots straight through me, the deep baritone making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and lust pool in my belly. Strange how a voice alone can have that effect on me. Opening my eyes, I meet the gaze of a man with the brightest stare I have ever seen. Twin pools of luminescent blue watch me expectantly, and a smile tugs at the corners of his full mouth as he gestures to the seat beside me.

“No, go ahead,” I say, my voice betraying complete shock that this guy is even here in the first place. Clad in a dark suit, he doesn’t blend in at all with the mini-skirts and skinny-jeans-wearing partygoers. A short beard lines his sharp jaw, and thick, dark hair is pulled away from his face, secured at the base of his neck with a band the same color so it blends in with the strands.

Damn. Turning back to the bar, I try my best to still focus on the task at hand despite the wall of muscle beside me. Doing my due diligence, I close my eyes and focus in on the sound of his heart. The steady thumping eases my nerves and lets me know he’s human and not monster.

“You here for a bit of craic?”

“Huh?” I ask, and he smiles.

“Fun, good times.”

“Oh, yes. I’m here for a bit of craic,” I repeat, the word sounding suspiciously like crack. Here’s hoping I didn’t just agree to drugs. “Irish?” I ask, and he nods.

“This place is fairly insane.”

After a moment of silence, the stranger clears his throat and asks, “Do you come here often, then?”

Tilting my head to the side, I grin at his terrible attempt at a pickup line. “That the best you got?”

He smiles again, showing bright white teeth made even brighter by the lights overhead. “No.”

The simple word sends my pulse racing, the confidence behind it something I can both appreciate and respect. Either the guy really is in the wrong place at the right time, or he’s a criminal like the rest of the lot. Just a hell of a lot better at it and about a thousand times more attractive. Either way, as much as I’d love to stay—and trust me, I absolutely would—I don’t have time for it. No matter how fucking hot he is or how long it’s been—ten months, but who’s counting—since I had a nice roll in the sheets.

I turn away and search for my exit point, spotting a neon green sign sporting the four-letter word that would take me to the freedom of fresh air. From here, it would be a quick exit, which, depending on how the coming fight goes, might be a possibility.

Unlike movies, vampires don’t explode into ash when they die. In actuality, their bodies remain corpses nearly impossible to tell apart from a human. Unless you know where to look. A close examination of their gumline will show you two freckles, which are actually the tips of fangs that slide down when the fuckers get hungry.

All of this makes my job a lot more difficult. Let’s just say I’ve been wanted for murder more than once. Thank you, disguise.

Tonight’s look paints me as a pretty blonde with bright blue eyes and fair skin. In reality, I’m the opposite. With dark brown hair to my shoulders, it’s taken years of practice to figure out how to fit it all beneath the wig cap.

My eyes are easily concealed with colored contacts, but if I stand in this club too much longer, I’m going to start sweating through the layers of makeup hiding the enhanced nose and freckles I inherited from my mother.

I glance down the bar, my gaze traveling over the dozens of club-goers drinking and laughing without a care in the world. I’ve never had that luxury. Since losing my parents in a freak accident when I was twelve, my older sister Delaney took the reins and made sure I knew all about the supernatural world our parents died trying to protect.

It’s one of the reasons I became a cop and the main reason I worked my ass off to make Detective. Which I finally did the year I turned thirty-five, two years ago. Since she was seven years older than me, Delaney took the brunt of the hunting duties while I went through the academy. She was a damned good hunter until her death two years ago—and no, that’s not a coincidence. She died the same night I made Detective. I was out celebrating, and she was getting her throat ripped out by a pack of Wolf Shifters in a dark alley filled with piss and trash.

Grief clenches my heart—a vise squeezing until tears burn the corners of my eyes. Not here. Not tonight. Later, I can focus on my guilt, on the pain. But doing so now will only kill my focus.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Straightening in my seat, I lock eyes with the bartender. His dark hair is cut short, barely reaching his ears. Baby blue eyes study me curiously, so I throw him a kind smile. “No, thanks.” I glance to my left, surprised to see the handsome stranger is gone. When the hell did he leave? I look behind me, searching the crowd. “Was there a man here?” I ask the bartender.

He looks over at the stool then back to me with a nod. “Stepped away as soon as I got over here.”

I don’t reply as I continue scanning the crowd for him. He was human, had a steady, normal heartbeat, but there’s a part of me—one rooted in instinct and my hunter heritage—that is uneasy with the interaction. Something about him…

“You sure about no drink? I’ve been told I make a mean mojito.” The bartender’s voice pulls my attention back to the present, and I glance up at him as he rests both palms on the bar top. Mojitos were Delaney’s favorite.

I shake my head. “I’m a designated driver tonight,” I lie smoothly. “Lost a bet.”

Nodding knowingly, he straightens. “Smart. Want a soda then?”

“Nope. All good.”

“Okay, let me know if you need anything. Name’s Jack.”

“Will do.”

He winks and turns away, walking to the other end of the bar where three busty brunettes and a blonde, who looks like she wishes she were anywhere else, are waiting for him. With one last glance at the stranger’s empty barstool, I take a deep breath and head back into the crowd. I make my way through the space, stopping as I reach the back door.

It’s damn near impossible to zero in on any particular sound. Pants, moaning, the chafing of fabric—it’s overwhelming. Maybe it’s time to head in. I’ve been here for well over three hours, and so far, aside from the sexy stranger at the bar, I’ve seen nothing out of the ordinary. Just as I’m reaching for the handle that will take me into the alley, a soft crunching sound catches my attention.

My head whips toward the noise, and I narrow my eyes, searching for the source. My gaze travels over dancers, a group of men doing lines of cocaine in the corner, until finally, I spot my target. A man, head lolled back, with a woman at his throat.

Shoving through the crowd, I palm my silver dagger as I move quietly. Movies would have you believe the bite is silent, but just like a hell of a lot of other things, they got it wrong. The crunching sound of canines stabbing into warm flesh is not one you forget.

As I approach, I slow my movements. The vamp could easily take out a handful of innocents in this bar, and the last thing I need is someone realizing that the night monsters are real. This particular vampire, a redhead wearing something I’m pretty sure doesn’t even constitute as a dress, has her hand in the guy’s pants, her teeth in his neck.

Some vampires have the ability to sexually arouse with their bite, something I’ve seen happen on more than one occasion. They get off on it—the vampires—as they offer their prey one last sexual experience before ripping their throats out.

To me, that’s even worse than the killing. The perversion of compelling someone to want it—I shiver and shove the horrible thoughts out of my head.

The man moans, grinding against her, and I slam into her shoulder, stumbling into the wall. She spins, and I throw a lopsided grin her way. “Sorry, lady. Didn’t mean to fuck with your buzz,” I slur. She narrows her gaze, and I’m hoping she’s sensing my hunter blood. It will make killing her a lot easier if she tries to run, or better yet, chase after me.

“Watch where you walk, bitch,” she spits at me, and warmth splatters my face.

Reaching up, I drag a finger over my cheek and pull it away. I can’t make out the exact tint of red—but the dark, sticky liquid can only be one thing. I smile up at her, no longer pretending to be hammered because, apparently, she didn’t get the fucking message.

Her red eyes widen, and she stares down at me with fear. Good. “Run,” I whisper, tilting my dagger so it catches the light. Her eyes dart down, and she shoves away, moving as quickly as she can through the crowd and to the exit sign I spotted earlier.

Adrenaline surges through my system, along with what my ancestors called The Hunt, a blast of supernatural energy that enhances my strength and speed. I feel the humming of it building inside of me, my body vibrating for the release only killing my prey can give me.

I burst outside right after her and immediately search the dark. I don’t see her right away, the putrid stench of the alley being the only thing I notice. Shit, this is pungent. So many different things to focus on, it takes all of my concentration to block them out. See, what is our greatest power can also be a weakness. When you are overwhelmed with a sense, it can get distracting.

Turning in a slow circle, I study my surroundings. The moon is covered by clouds tonight, casting the city in eerie darkness and making it difficult to see as I wait for my eyes to adjust. I hear the flapping of wings moments before three black crows land on top of the dumpster to my left. An omen of death. Perfect.

Palming my dagger, I listen and move just in time to avoid a body hitting me. The vampire crouches before me, fangs out, eyes glowing bright red. “You’re going to die tonight, hunter bitch,” she spits out.

“Not likely.” I continue moving, the vampire stalking my every move. “The way I see it, you’ll need at least one more of you to make it a fair fight.” Based on the brightness of her eyes and the fact that she didn’t recognize me, she’s fairly new, which means she’s weaker than other vamps I’ve faced off with.

She grins, the blood crusted around her mouth showcasing the feral animal she is. “You’ve grossly miscounted, Hunter.”

As she finishes speaking, the door to the club opens, and four male vampires walk out, canines bared. Well, this is unfortunate. “Now it’s a party,” I say, tossing my dagger up and gripping it by the blade, then tossing again and catching it by the hilt. My bravado is false. This is the largest number of vamps I’ve faced off with at one time.

Not that I worry about my life ending. I died two years ago in an alley where I was called to investigate a brutal murder victim who turned out to be my sister.

A flaxen-haired male moves slowly, stalking toward me. To his left, a male vampire, head completely shaved to the scalp, grins menacingly. Another, with slightly longer black hair curling over the edge of his ears, takes a step to the right as though he’s trying to flank me.

The final male vampire, who’s rocking a black bandana and an Affliction T-shirt, claps his hands together. “Guess it’s hunter for dinner tonight, boys!”

“I should warn you, at this point in my life, I’m mostly Skittles. I’d hate for you to end up with a sugar high.”

He grins at me. “I like ’em sweet.”

The female vampire attacks, and I spin, slamming my fist into her ribs. With a grunt, she impacts with the brick wall, and one of the men—Affliction T-shirt—races for me. I move away from him, but not fast enough to miss the flaxen-haired vamp blurring toward me. He grips my blonde wig and yanks, sending it flying off my head. I duck and dodge, spinning around and catching the asshole with a foot.

He falls to the ground, and I don’t waste any time before pouncing, driving my dagger down into his heart. Without waiting to watch him die, I rip my blade out and roll to the side as Affliction tee pounces. His boot stomps down on my wrist, and I lose grip on my dagger as bones crunch. Son of a bitch. Pain radiates up my arm, but I know what will happen if I succumb to it. So, without wasting time, I lift my leg, wrapping it around Affliction’s leg as it currently pins my wrist to the ground, sending him backward, me on top of him. With my good hand, I slam my fist down into his nose, and warm blood splatters my face.

My vision blurs, a sign of what’s to come if I don’t calm the fuck down, so I take a deep breath and roll to the side, lunging for my dagger as the female vampire moves to grab it as well. I get it first and bring it up, but she knocks it to the side. The dark-haired vampire, who so far has been the only one not involved, grabs her, ripping her back and burying his fangs in her throat. He rips it out, and warm blood sprays me.

What the fuck? Since when did they start turning on their own?

Then, he turns to me as she stumbles back, falling against the wall. Someone roars.

“What the fuck are you doing, Kale? Do you want to bring more hunters down on us?” the dark-haired vampire scolds the one behind me.

“Too late,” a masculine voice growls as the bartender—Jack—rushes around the corner from the front of the club. Short blade in hand, he moves into the alleyway as the vampire who killed the female turns and climbs the fire escape. I get up to go for him but am rushed by Affliction—bloodied nose and all. I dive for my dagger and bring it up into the bottom of his jaw.

He crumbles, pinning me to the pavement as Jack removes the head of the bald vampire—the one who yelled when the female died. The creature’s head rolls to the side and smacks to the asphalt.

Jack rushes toward me and rips the now dead Affliction from me. Then, he reaches down and yanks me to my feet. I take a step back as Jack reaches back to the ground, lifting my blonde wig. “Here.”

“Thanks,” I mutter and slip my dagger into its holster before using my good hand to fix the wig back into place on top of my head. “I don’t recognize you,” I say, meeting his gaze before looking down at the fourth vampire bleeding to death on the pavement. I glance over at the fire escape. Fuck. One got away.

“I’m new to the area.” He slices down with his blade, taking the head off the vampire before kneeling and wiping the blood from his blade on the shirt of his most recent kill. “Got in last month. You going to be okay?” He gestures to my limp wrist, and I clutch it closer to my body.

I’m wary of newcomers—even other hunters. They can be a shifty bunch, wanting to take kills for themselves, and I’ve known quite a few who are more than willing to let another hunter die if it means taking their territory.

I don’t rejoice in deaths. Not even monsters. It’s a task bestowed on me upon the annihilation of my family. But this is my territory, and I’ll be damned if someone is going to drive me out. “I’m fine. Why are you here? This section has been in my family for generations. It belongs to me.”

“I got word that there was a surge in activity here. Vampire and lycan alike.”

“So, you are a lycan hunter?”

He nods.

Sirens blare, and I shake my head. I can question him later. “We need to go.”

“I have to get back to work. It’ll look suspicious if I’m not back after my break.” He flips his blade and hands it to me, hilt first. “I’ll be back for that, Rainey Astor.”

I stiffen when he mentions my name but take the blade anyway, and Jake heads for the back entrance of the club. Music pours into the alley as he opens the door, disappearing inside.

Tucking his blade carefully beneath my jacket, I head for the nearest fire escape—the same one the last remaining vamp climbed to escape. I’m honestly hoping the asshole stuck around so I can end him too.

2

Rainey

My phone rings just as I’m walking into my single-bedroom apartment. The shrill tone is meant to wake me from even the deadest of sleeps, especially since, after a hunt like tonight, I’ll need it. My body goes into a near-comatose state to heal itself though it’s not entirely necessary. Even now, I can feel the throbbing ache of the bones in my wrist knitting back together.

I’m pretty damn sure it’s merely self-preservation. A way to save my mind from the horrendous pain endured during the healing process for more severe injuries.

When I first realized what I was, the pain of healing was indescribable. My mother was a doctor—a surgeon—and kept our first-aid kit fairly well stocked with pain meds. So after breaking my arm falling out of a tree back at my grandmother’s house in Salem, Massachusetts, she dosed me up and talked me through the process.

Until then, I had no idea who—or more accurately what—I was. Then, two months later, they were killed, and my world shifted yet again.

And unfortunately, it’s been in a constant state of change ever since.

At least, I’m used to it now. The pain of healing is no longer overwhelming. Now, it’s nothing but an afterthought. Not that it’s not there—no, if I focus on it, the shit still hurts—but I’m able to block it out of my mind, shoving it aside and focusing instead on the events of tonight. I toss Jack’s blade on my counter, and it clatters against the laminate surface.

Another hunter in Billings. What the hell are the odds? My sister and I were the only ones before. At least, that’s what she always believed. Honestly, until she died, I wanted nothing to do with this dark side of the world. There are enough monsters amongst the humans.

The ringing stops, and I walk into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of ibuprofen. After setting it on the counter, I grab my Jameson from the cabinet and pour a small glass to wash the pills down. The tone goes off again. “Dammit.”

With my good arm, I pull out my phone, completely unsurprised to see my partner’s name flashing across the screen. I can even guess what he’s calling for since they would have found the bodies by now and that damned club is in my jurisdiction. “Hey, Ramirez, what’s up?”

“You sleeping?”

“Was. What’s going on?” Ramirez has been my partner since I got promoted to Detective. He’s nearing retirement but sharp as a tack, which makes hiding things from him a bit more difficult than I’d care for.

“Got a nasty one. Four vics. One female, three male. I’ll text you the address.”

“Sounds good. I’ll throw on some clothes and head that way.” Ending the call, I set my phone down onto the counter and toss back the rest of my whiskey. Tonight is going to be miserable.

Fucking vampires. If it had just been the one, I could have gotten rid of her blood-sucking ass, and then I wouldn’t be forced out of my home and back into another awkward investigation where I know exactly who did it, but I’m not able to say a damned thing.

Groaning, I set my glass in the sink and walk into the bathroom to start transforming from blonde hunter to brunette Homicide Detective. A painstaking process that takes over an hour to apply, and thankfully quite a bit less time to remove. I toss the wig to the floor—since it’s now stained with whatever shit was in the alleyway, it’s no longer useful to me. Kneeling down, I grab my adhesive remover from beneath the counter and straighten to stare at myself in the mirror.

My sister never had to use any type of disguise, and neither do most hunters. But since I walk a line between the supernatural and human world, it’s necessary. So, no matter how much I hate the process of it, I do it every single night. After dipping the edge of a Q-tip in the adhesive remover, I start prying at the edges of my prosthetic nose.

It takes quite a few minutes to get it up, but finally, it comes off, so I set it beside the sink and turn on the shower. I undress, tossing my clothes into the hamper before stepping beneath the hot spray. Taking great care to not get my still pinned-up hair wet, I wash the blood, dirt, and makeup off before climbing out and drying quickly.

The entire night turned into a fucking mess. Five vampires. That club is known for being frequented by the Gale clan, a relatively new group of vampires who gained notoriety in the supernatural world for taking out half a dozen humans a night.

Still, five vamps there at the same time? I hadn’t considered that, and it’s a mistake I won’t be repeating. Ever. After quickly tossing on some clothes, I shrug into my shoulder holster, sticking my service weapon into its spot tucked away beneath my arm, then slip my badge around my neck.

My black leather jacket is hanging by the door, so I grab it on my way out and head down to the garage to jump on my bike. The fire-engine red custom Harley that Delaney gave me as a gift for making Detective gleams beneath the lights of the parking garage. I don’t bother with a helmet since dying by motorcycle is not on the hunter list of ways to go out.

We’re tough as shit. And if by some miracle it did kill me—well—we’ve already covered that I don’t fear the Reaper.

The Harley comes to life beneath me, and seconds later, I’m pulling out of the garage and onto the dark street. Mountain air surrounds me, and I breathe it in as I head toward the club I barely escaped from earlier.

If Jack hadn’t shown up, I probably wouldn’t have. Five vamps on one hunter. If I’d been prepared, I probably would have been fine. But you’d need a hell of a lot more than two daggers for that kind of fight.

Flashes of red and blue illuminate the night sky as I pull my bike up beside Ramirez’s black sedan. Police officers standing just outside of the yellow tape hold off onlookers who, for some disturbing reason, want to see the dead bodies covered in yellow tarps just inside the alley.

My gaze searches for Ramirez, who looks up as I turn my bike off. I climb off and head up to the sidewalk, ducking beneath the yellow tape and passing by Jack, who doesn’t spare me a glance. He saw me without my wig, sure, but that doesn’t mean he’ll recognize me. I take great care in making sure even the basic structure of my face appears different. Hell, I even paint the pads of my fingers with clear silicone to mask fingerprints.

“Hey, Astor,” Ramirez greets, his tone grim.

“What do we have?” I ask, graciously accepting the coffee my partner hands me.

“Four dead. We’ve got one decapitated, two were stabbed to death, and one—the female—looks like she had her throat ripped out.”

“Gnarly,” I reply, my tone not betraying any hint of emotion. An easy thing for me because I don’t feel anything. Haven’t in quite some time, and my lack of empathy is something my partner has grown used to. I walk over to where my wrist was crushed and kneel, lifting the yellow tarp of the vampire Jack beheaded. “That’s not something you see every day.”

“No, I’d say it’s not.”

“Do we think it was a drug deal gone wrong? Were there any witnesses?”

“Possibly. Bartender came out to dump the garbage just as the cops showed up.”

“He the one who called the police?” I straighten, my wrist still burning as my body works to heal it. I should be in a sling, but since that would raise questions, I simply stick my hand into the pocket of my jacket to alleviate some of the pressure.

Ramirez shakes his head. “Onlooker heard some yelling and said she saw a blonde woman fighting off the men. She went and called the police.”

“Blonde woman?”

He nods. “She’s gone. We’d check security cameras, but unfortunately, this club doesn’t have any working.”

“Wouldn’t want any evidence of the drugs they push through this place.”

“Bingo.” He runs a hand over the back of his neck.

“Think it was self-defense?”

“Honestly?” He sighs. “I’d like to go there, and it’s possible she knew our female vic and she was just the lucky one.”

“But?”

“The beheading almost makes that unbelievable. What kind of weapon could she have been packing to make such a clean cut?”

“A big-ass blade would be my guess.”

“Which doesn’t necessarily scream helpless victim.”

“Agreed.”

“Hey, Detectives? Check this out.” One of the crime scene investigators—a younger man I haven’t worked with before—raises his hand up, so Ramirez and I walk over to where he’s kneeling beside the body of the female vampire.

“What do you have?”

“Look at her mouth.”

Fuck. “Is that blood?” I ask, voice flat.

“Looks like it.”

“Her throat was ripped out,” Ramirez says. “Of course, she’d have blood on her face.”

“The blood from her injury is focused around the tear. The blood on her mouth appears to be separate,” the cop insists. “Which is weird.”

Of course it is. And typically, I would have cleaned it off of her. “People here do weird shit. The M.E. will be able to tell us if she was high, in which case, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise. Remember the bath salt craze?” I ask, kneeling beside her body.

“Sure.” He doesn’t look convinced, but thankfully, he lets it go.

“Do we have any IDs?” I ask, standing, and one of the officers near the tape holds up our field identifier.

“Working on it,” she says.

“Great, let me know when you have one. Where’s the bartender?” I ask Ramirez.

He gestures to the tape. “Over there.”

“Then let’s go see if he saw anything, shall we?” Here’s hoping he doesn’t recognize me. And, if he does, that he’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut until we can talk alone.

Jack is standing in the same place he was earlier, arms crossed over his chest.

“Mr. Keller, this is my partner, Rainey Astor.”

Jack reaches out and shakes my good hand. “Nice to meet you, Detective.”

Good. I relax. “You too. Can you give us a rundown of what you saw tonight?”

“Not much. I came out to dump the trash right as the police showed up. Other than a brief look at the bodies, I don’t have anything I can offer you.”

“Did anything seem out of the ordinary tonight?”

“Not that I noticed, but to be honest, I haven’t been working here long, and it’s a pretty weird place.”

“A witness said they spotted a blonde woman in the alley fighting with three men. Do you remember seeing any blonde’s inside?”

“Sure. I saw a lot of blonde women tonight.”

Ramirez reaches into his jacket and pulls out a notepad. “Short hair, shoulder-length, was wearing all black.”

Jack shakes his head and purses his lips. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be more help. Most of the people inside are wearing dark clothes, and with how low the lights are kept, I barely pay attention to features.”

I pull a card out of my pocket and hand it to him. “Thanks for your help. Give me a call if you think of anything else.”

“Will do. Am I free to go?”

“Yes.” Ramirez shakes his hand. “Thanks for your help.”

Jack turns to leave and ducks beneath the yellow tape. I watch him retreat, back down the street, also not something out of character for me. I pay extra attention to witnesses as they leave. Typically, it’s the walk that gives them away. The guilty always rush. Even if they were cool and collected during the interview.

“What do you think about him?”

“Not sure,” I answer honestly. “Probably worth looking into him.”

“Got an ID,” an officer calls.

Ramirez and I turn back toward the officer as he stands. Time to find out who wanted me dead. As I make my way over to him, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I stiffen, halting in place and turning in a slow circle to peer into the darkness just outside the alley. Something shifts in the shadows, a blurred shape that I can’t make out. But when I blink, it’s gone. I scan the tops of the adjacent buildings in search of whoever’s watching me.

I know someone is even if I can’t see them…yet. Being stalked is not a new experience for me, but it doesn’t make it any easier to dismiss when you can practically feel someone’s gaze on you. And I’ve been feeling it a hell of a lot the last few weeks.

“Astor? You good?”

I turn to Ramirez and nod. “Yeah, just looking to see if there might be any cameras on the adjacent buildings,” I lie. “Let’s see who victim number one is, shall we?”

3

Elijah

“Elijah Hawthorne, you stand in front of this council, accused of consorting with a hunter against your own kind. How do you plead?”

The seven ancient vampires seated in their thrones above me stare down their noses, judging me as though they aren’t worthy of much worse punishment. The dodgy bastards practically wrote the accords and yet allow them to be broken consistently as long as it fits their agenda. Pathetic. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I’m afraid I wasn’t paying much attention.” I shove both hands into my pockets and roll my shoulders.

Councilwoman Valerie lets out an irritated sigh and pinches the bridge of her sharp nose. “This is no game, Mr. Hawthorne. You are on trial, and should you be found guilty, you will be sentenced to death.”

“I assure you I recognize this as no game. What I do not understand, however, is how my assisting a hunter who was being unfairly targeted, as per the Accords, is enough to land me on trial. Not to mention, the supposed crime took place years ago. I hardly remember the night,” I lie. That night is forever branded in my brain as the first time I crossed paths with a hunter and didn’t have the urge to remove their head from their shoulders.

“She was a hunter!” Councilwoman Valerie argues back. “A murderer.”

“She was a hunter,” I repeat in agreement. “But as per the Accords, she cannot be targeted simply because of her lineage.”

Councilman Geril clears his throat. “They target our kind every day. And as you so mentioned, the crime did take place a few years ago, but you’ve ignored every one of our summonses. This council has more to deal with than the rogue actions of a disgrace.”

I wish his words bothered me, but I’ve heard different variations of the same discrimination for centuries. That’s what happens when you’re a Hybrid in a world of Purebloods. “And yet here you are. Gracing Billings with your putrid presence.”

“Here we are,” Councilman Geril repeats, ignoring my insult. “You assisted a hunter in killing your own kind. Why?”

“If I assisted, it was because our kind can’t seem to figure out how to not slaughter humans. This is hardly the dark ages anymore. There are other options.”

“Yes, options that go against our base nature,” Councilman Geril says. “And if I remember, you were as bloodthirsty as others—more so even—in your day, and yet you pass judgment onto others of our kind for their way of life.”

Low blow. “I’ve since changed my outlook.”

“Yes, because you’re looking for a cure,” Councilwoman Ona laughs. “A cure, as though you are faced with an ailment.”

We are the ailment that plagues the humans. “Everyone knows there is no cure other than death,” I say. It’s not true though. Rumors of a cure have been circulating for centuries, and eventually, I will find it. Not like I don’t have the time. Thanks to my ailment, I have nothing but.

“We are getting off-topic.” The worst of them all—Councilman Bronson shakes his head. “How do you plead in the case of assisting the hunter?”

“I suppose I must plead guilty. Wouldn’t you say so?”

All seven vampires nod, and Councilman Bronson grins as he slams his gavel down. “Then you will be put to death.” His pleasure is worn plainly on his aging face. He’s been gunning for my line for centuries. The Hawthornes are the only clan older than the council members, and until my father’s affair with a witch was discovered, it was my birthright.

Like I’d want any part of the bastards. They murdered my mother and the love of my life three hundred years ago. I glare up at him. Three centuries is a long time to hold a grudge.

“Come and get me.”

They nod, and four vampire guards behind me get to their feet. I stare up at the Council as the vamps behind me close in, and the moment they’re close enough, I spin, kicking out and knocking two of the four away from me. With grunts, they fly back, slamming into the brick wall.

Fangs descend as the other two come for me. I’m older—stronger—and they should know better. I lunge for the closest male, tackling him to the ground and relieving him of his silver blade like he removed mine when I let them grab me two hours ago.

With a swing, I remove his head and jump to my feet just in time to take off the head of a second vamp. The other two stare at me, their blood-red eyes glinting with rage as they close in on me. “Come and get it, lads.”

They charge and spin, their heads rolling to the side as the blade slices through flesh and bone. Weapon in hand, I turn toward where the Council sat moments ago. They’re gone, probably left the second I started fighting. Bleedin’ cowards. Reaching down, my palm closes around the hilt of another blade. With both weapons in hand, I race out of the chamber and into the empty hall.

Now on to the real reason I let them bring me here. Footsteps kept as light as possible, I race down the hall toward the dungeon. The Council hasn’t gone out and hunted for themselves in decades. They have a constant rotation of humans abducted and brought in—living blood bags at their every beck and call.

It’s one thing to drink and release, leaving your prey healed and with a mild headache. Most of the time, they don’t even remember what happened. But it’s a completely new low to keep a human prisoner, draining them a little more each and every day until there’s nothing but a dry corpse left behind.

I descend the steps and am faced with seven terrified pairs of eyes. Men and women stare back at me—one of the males looks to be no older than a teenager. Fucking Valerie. She’s always had a taste for the young ones.

“No, no, not again,” a woman cries out, shuffling as far back in the cage as she can get.

“I’m not here for your blood,” I say, setting the blade on the floor beside me. “I’m only here to get you out.”

A woman steps forward, strength in the set of her shoulders and the way she moves closer to the bars while the others remain behind. “You’re not a vampire?”

“I’m not like them.” Which is true. I grip the chain and yank, snapping the links off. All of them jump back.

“Yes, you are!” the teenager yells, but the woman who spoke a moment ago takes a hesitant step toward me.

She peers at me through the dim light, and I can once again sense strength in her even as I can also tell she’s been down here longer than most. Her pale complexion, gaunt face, and the dirt smeared on her light clothing tell the story of a person who’s probably been here for a week at least. “Look at his eyes. They aren’t red like the others.”

“We’re running out of time, so if you no longer wish to be a living lunch box, I implore you to trust me so we can get out of here. Those of you who wish to stay and take your chances, feel free.” I want to help, but I have no intention of losing my head because they can’t summon the backbone to fight for their lives.

They move toward me, the woman who seemed braver than the rest of them gripping the hand of the young teen and guiding him out of the metal cage.

“Stick close, and stay behind me.” Since we’re underground, there are multiple exit routes. The one I mapped out will take us through the tunnels and up into a residential neighborhood, giving them their best chance at survival, especially considering the early daylight waiting for us. Other than the members of the Council, my line is the only one old enough to walk in the day.

With age comes many perks, but jealousy tends to wipe out full lines prior to the Day Walker stage. Basically, the likelihood of anyone following us is slim. I only wish I was here to see the bastards’ faces when they realize their food walked right out.

“This way.” I guide them down a narrow stone hallway that I marked as plan A. The Immortal Council is only in the States a handful of weeks out of the year. Since the Council is based out of England, they tend to stick to that part of the world.

Lucky for me, my helping the eldest Astor sister drew enough attention to garnish an in-person visit as soon as they had the chance.

Five minutes pass in the dark before we turn down another hall. Relief washes over me when the ladder at the end comes into view. I grip the rungs and ascend quickly, pressing the manhole cover up before shoving it completely to the side and looking around.

The residential street is near empty this early in the morning as rays of red and gold color the sky with early dawn. Hoisting myself up, I reach down and grip the hand of the teenager first, pulling him to safety as the others climb out.

He’s by far the weakest, and based on his pale complexion and the way he’s swaying on his feet, he would have been dead by nightfall.

“What do we do now?” the woman asks as she wraps an arm around the teen. I cover the hole up with the steel cover and take a deep breath. That marks one item off my task list for the day.

“There’s a detective who can help you.”

“No one is ever going to believe us,” she insists.

“She will,” I assure them before pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to her. “Go here, and ask for Detective Rainey Astor. Talk to no one but her, understand?”

The woman nods. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do it for you. Now go.”

She continues to stare up at me for a moment. “I will thank you because, whatever your reasons, I’ll get to see my son again.” And with that, she turns on her heel and leads the group away from the tunnels.

I move to the sidewalk as the humans head down the opposite side, back toward town. Sticking to the shadows in between houses, I follow for a few minutes just to ensure they aren’t tracked down. If there’s one thing the Council doesn’t want, it’s the Police involved in their matters. And this group could lead the entire force straight to the door.

I need them to make it to the station. If I’m ever going to convince Rainey Astor to help me, I’m going to need all the proof I can get to show her that I’m not like other vampires she’s had the displeasure of meeting.

As soon as they’re out of view, I shove both hands into my pockets and make my way over to my car. Now, on to part two. There’s a particularly nasty vampire clan who’s about to discover they fucked with the wrong person last night.

I climb into my sedan, my thoughts drifting back to the police detective I had the privilege of speaking to if only for a few minutes late last night.

My hope is that Rainey Astor is everything her sister claimed her to be. If she is, those people stand a chance, and the Council is about to go head-to-head with one of the most powerful hunters in recent history.

4

Rainey

“You know those things do not count as breakfast, right?”

I glance up at my best friend as she stares disapprovingly at the share-size pack of Skittles on the counter of her coffee shop. “They have calories.”

She puts both hands rocking bright pink nails on her narrow hips. “They are packed with sugar and all kinds of other crap.”

I pop two red and a purple in my mouth. “Delicious crap,” I defend. I’m used to it. I’ve had to defend my Skittles addiction since we were kids and I’d search for spare coins to feed my habit. My mother refused to let me ‘poison myself’ with sugar, so I’d had to scrimp and save. I may be thirty-seven, but my love for the fruit-flavored candy has never wavered.

Jane grins and rolls her eyes. Honestly, if I didn’t love her so damn much, I’d probably hate her. She’s absolutely gorgeous and the only woman I know who can literally roll out of bed and have perfectly styled chestnut hair. Her left eye is a light hazel while the right is half light hazel and half bright green.

But honestly, it’s not even her looks that I’m most jealous of. It’s the fact that she gets to live a normal life while I’m forced to carry on a legacy tinged with blood. She gets to go to sleep every night and wake up, knowing exactly what her day will bring while I’m forced to confront death nearly every step of the way.

“I’m going to make you something,” she says and leaves before giving me the chance to argue. I wash down another four Skittles with a sip of my black coffee and survey the line already forming outside of Janie’s Coffee Beans. I’m so proud of my best friend. She worked her ass off every day since she was old enough to babysit and even held two jobs as a teenager. After saving every extra penny she had, she was able to open this place up six years ago, and it’s now the most popular coffee shop in Billings.

“You’re going to end up with a brick through the window if you don’t open up,” I call after her. Something dings back in the kitchen, and less than a minute later, she’s walking through the beaded doorway with a toasted breakfast sandwich.

“Eat.”

“Okay, mom.”

She grins down at me. “Listen to me, or face my wrath.” Her voice is so soft, feminine, and it just makes her threat even more amusing. Jane is the human version of cotton candy. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen her pissed off. She turns toward the coffee pot and starts a fresh brew. “Five minutes to open time.”

I grunt and bite into the sandwich. Flavor explodes on my tongue—crunchy bacon, smooth avocado, salty cheese—it’s damn delicious. “Where’s Minnie?” The only staff member Jane has on hand is a sweet girl but notoriously late. My friend is entirely too kind to fire her though, so I’ve covered more than once on a busy morning.

She purses pink lips together. “She should be here soon.”

“You know, you could hire someone else in a heartbeat.”

“I know, but she’s so sweet. Plus, she’s going through a rough spot with her fiancé.”

“There will always be a reason.”

“I can’t,” she insists and changes the subject. “What happened to your wrist?”

I look down at the light bruising, the only evidence that it was shattered last night since the bones are all healed. I release the sandwich and roll it side to side to show her nothing’s off.

“Not sure,” I lie. “Probably banged it up during a workout.”

“You’ve got to take it easy on that bag,” she says, brows drawing together. “You’re going to break something one of these days.”

If only you knew. “I have to keep my skills sharp.”

“Yes, Rainey Astor: ass-kicker extraordinaire.”

“Don’t ever forget it.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Promise.”

“I heard there was an awful murder last night.” She speaks low as though someone might overhear us.

“Pretty nasty. Four dead.” Would have been five if the last asshole hadn’t escaped.

“So sad. I just.” She sighs. “I really wish the world was kinder. Things would be so much better if everyone cared for one another.”

I purse my lips in a tight smile. “I really wish that too.”

The coffee machine dings, signaling the brew is complete, so Jane straightens her soft pink apron. “Time to open.” Just as she’s about to unlock the door, Minnie breezes in from the back, hair in a tight bun as she puts her apron on.

“Morning,” I greet as she moves closer.

Minnie sniffles, and I see it—bruising barely covered by a thick layer of makeup. The cop in me comes out, and I push off my stool.

“What happened?” I demand, reaching for her face.

She pulls back and shakes her head. “Nothing. Fell this morning.”

“Minnie, did Paul do that to you?” Jane asks, leaving the door and walking toward her employee.

Minnie forces a smile and shakes her head. “No, course not. Let’s open before we end up with someone kicking the door in.”

Tight-lipped, Jane studies Minnie before looking over at me. I nod, understanding exactly what she’s not asking me to do. And I say not because she knows I want to, and it could get me fired.

Minnie unlocks the door, and customers file in, some taking seats at perfectly polished wooden tables, others heading right for the counter for their morning fix. I toss bills on the counter and sneak out the back.

My phone rings. “Astor,” I say into the line.

“Rainey, it’s Jack.”

“Perfect. Meet me somewhere.”

“Where?”

“This your cell?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll text you the address.”

“Sounds good.”

I end the call and immediately fire off Minnie’s home address. I might not be able to do anything, but Jack’s not police, and while I’m the one who owes him a favor, he owes me a show of trust.

Climbing on my bike, I fire it up and head up the street toward where Minnie lives. The small residential neighborhood is adorable, a picturesque example of white picket fence. Paul Thomas is a stain on that visual.

I stop my bike just down the street, out of view, and wait. While I don’t necessarily agree with Minnie’s work ethic, I don’t have time for bullies. Human or monster—doesn’t matter to me other than the fact I can justify killing the latter.

It’s well past time this asshole had a reality check and realizes he isn’t the biggest, baddest motherfucker in the land. A nondescript silver sedan pulls up near my bike, and Jack climbs out.

“Morning,” he greets. “I like you better as a brunette.”

“Thanks for not outing me last night. I wasn’t sure you recognized me.”

“I did. But I figured it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to let your partner know that.”

I nod and study Jack in the bright sun. He looks different today, more relaxed. Wearing dark jeans and a white T-shirt, there’s little trace of the hunter from last night. I suppose that’s fitting since I look like a completely different person than I did in that alley.

“You up for a little bully control?” I ask him.

He shoves both hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “What type?”

“Human.”

“Let’s do it. What do you need me to do?”

“Honestly? I need you to get the douchebag in that yellow house on the corner to hit you.”

Jack’s dark eyebrow lifts. “You want me to get him to hit me? As in, let the guy sucker-punch me?”

“Yes. But it has to be on the sidewalk.”

“The sidewalk.”

“Public property.”

“So, I have to lure him to the sidewalk and get him to hit me.”

I nod.

“So you can arrest him.”

“That’s the plan.”

Jack flexes his hands, knuckles cracking. “Sounds good to me. I’m pretty good at pissing people off. When I’m done though, I’m expecting this show of faith to earn me an actual conversation. I am putting my pride aside for you, Rainey Astor.”

“We’ll see. Make it look good.”

“I will.”

I chuckle and watch as Jack crosses the street, heading for Minnie’s quaint yellow house. The lawn is so perfectly manicured you’d never know an asshole lived inside. Focusing my senses on Jack, I can hear him knock even here around the corner. While I can’t see Paul’s face when he opens the door, I can hear the conversation perfectly.

“What do you want?” Paul asks, his tone slurred from whatever alcohol he’s been partaking in. Perfect. This’ll probably be even easier than I thought.

“I’ve got something I’d like to discuss with you Mr.—”

“If you’re selling something, I want nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, come on, man, let’s have us a talk. I’m not leaving until you give me a chance.”

“You fucking are, you lazy motherfucker. Get a real job.”

Jack stumbles back when Paul shoves him. “There’s no need for violence.” Jack holds up both hands.

Paul comes into view on the porch. “If you don’t get off my property, there is.” He steps toward Jack.

“You been drinking, man?”

“None of your damned business.”

“You call me a lazy motherfucker, and yet here I am, working. You’re drunk. That’s pathetic.”

“What did you just call me?” Paul asks, tone dropping to just above dangerous as he moves down the steps toward Jack.

Here it is.

“Pathetic. Pretty sure I didn’t slur since I’m not a drunk piece of shit.” Jack steps out onto the sidewalk and Paul races toward him.

That did it.

Paul’s fist cracks into Jack’s jaw, and I run across the street, badge in full view around my neck. “What just happened?” I demand.

“He won’t get off my—wait a fucking minute. Rainey, what the hell are you doing here?” Paul narrows his gaze on me.

“Passing by.” I turn to Jack. “Sir, did this man assault you?”

Jack glances back at Paul and then at me. “Why yes, yes he did.”

“He’s on my property! I was defending myself!” Paul’s face reddens, his words laced with spit.

“Looks to me like this man came here asking you for help, and you assaulted him. And, you’re drunk, in public.”

“This is my property!” Paul roars.

“Actually,” I point to the sidewalk. “This is public property.” I click my tongue. “I’m afraid I’ll have to arrest you for this one.” Reaching behind me, I pull out my cuffs, and Paul’s eyes widen.

“You did this on purpose, you bitch!” He rushes me, and I palm his throat, slamming him back to the ground.

Rolling him over onto his belly, I yank both arms behind his back and cuff him before leaning in. “Listen up, asshole. You’ve hit Minnie for the last time. Do it again, and I won’t be coming after you as a cop.”

“That’s a threat! You hear that?” he asks Jack, who shakes his head.

“No, dude. I heard her read you your rights.”

I grin up at Jack and roll Paul over, sitting him on the curb while I pull out my phone and call the precinct.

5

Elijah

Tinfoil lines the window of an old house on the outskirts of town. It’s in a rundown neighborhood—the kind you wouldn’t wish to be seen in by anyone—and is only a few miles from the club Rainey was hunting last night. Both of these make it a prime location for bringing back victims without attracting too many prying eyes. These particular bastards have been extending their territory though, working their way toward the city, turning as many as six humans a night.

Should be noticeable by the humans, right? Well, it would be, but the bastards are smart about it. They grab the homeless, the drunks, the ones no human will report missing to their ranks and steadily—silently—build up an army so they can attempt to take over the city center. Not that they’ll get that far. The vamp that runs the city center is a well-known asshole.

That vamp being me.

The lawn is overgrown, and as I step up onto the rickety porch, the boards barely support my weight. Lovely. The railing is peeling, but it seems as good a place as any to leave something you don’t want destroyed.

Slowly, I remove my jacket and lay it across the aged wood before walking up to the door and slamming the sole of my shoe into the wood. I see no need for pretenses, and given the bright sun above, these bloodthirsty bastards won’t be opening the door anyway.

It splinters inward, making the occupants inside hiss and move further into the shadows to avoid being burned up by the sunlight. The stench of death wafts out over me, churning my stomach. “Does no one clean anymore?” I ask as I step through the damaged doorway. “You lads could really use someone.”

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve!” a vampire roars from just beyond the living room.

If you can call it that. The place looks like it’s one windstorm away from blowing right over. Something that I think used to be a couch has springs sticking out at odd angles, its once tan fabric stained with things I’d rather not put too much thought into.

And to top it all off, a body lies spread eagle on the kitchen island. “No wonder for the damned smell. You’ve got this dead guy in your kitchen. And he’s wearing nothing but his knickers. You definitely need help.” I move closer and cringe when I see the fang marks on the man’s major veins. Poor bastard didn’t stand a chance. He looks like he was gnawed on for days.

“Who the fuck are you?” the vampire who spoke earlier addresses me, so I turn my attention back to him.

“Someone who’s going to teach you a bit of manners.” I carefully undo my cufflinks and shove them into my pocket before rolling up my sleeves.

“Manners?” the vamp scoffs. “You’re about to die, asshole.”

I shrug. Not at all concerned. The Gale clan is fairly new, their founding member turned only a handful of years ago. And even if he wasn’t? I’m still a hell of a lot deadlier. Being over four centuries old has given me quite an advantage over these assholes.

A board cracks behind me, and I turn just in time to grab my would-be attacker by the throat. He’s young—maybe early twenties—red eyes regarding me with a mixture of fear and awe. “Whose bright idea was it to attack that hunter last night?” I ask. “Female, blonde, she was a real looker.” The vampire glances over my shoulder just briefly enough to give me my answer, but not obvious enough the gobshite behind me recognized the betrayal.

I lean in, dropping my tone. “If you don’t want to die, I suggest you find a hole and climb into it until your bloodlust is over. Understand?”

He nods frantically, so I release him, and sticking to the shadows, he disappears back down the hall he came from. I turn back to the vampire behind me. The bastard who foolishly sent his new pack up against a hunter. Two hunters actually, though I know they didn’t count on the second one showing up.

“If you’ve come to thank me—don’t. She survived. We’re going after her again tonight if you care to join. Nothing like the taste of fresh hunter.” He licks his lips, his fangs descending. “I’m sure we can share.”

“Who sent you after her?” I doubt a clan this new would have initiated an attack unless they had something to prove to someone worth proving it.

He laughs. “Like I’m going to tell you so you can swoop in and take what they promised me. This is my operation. If you want in, you have to join.”

Moron. “Then, I suppose we have a problem, don’t we?” I rush toward him, moving so fast he’s unable to get out of the way before I’m pinning him to the wall, my hand on his throat. “All I have to do is squeeze, and your head will pop right off.” I demonstrate, closing my fist around his throat as he claws at my hand.

Just before he turns completely red, I release my grip enough for him to speak. “What the fuck are you doing? We’re on the same side!”

“I’m on no one’s side but my own, and I need the hunter alive. So how about you tell me who sent you to kill her? As much as I’m sure you’d love to believe it, I doubt you concocted such a flawless plan all by yourself.”

“If I tell you, I’m as good as dead anyway.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re dead regardless.” I squeeze again.

A vampire rushes me from the hall to my right, and I drop the one before me, spinning and slamming my fist into the gut of the other. The one I was holding up jumps onto my back and wraps both arms around my neck.

The feeble attempt is short-lived as I bend at the waist, flinging him forward and slamming him to the ground. Then, I reach forward and grip the second vampire around the throat. I don’t wait to question this one though, so with one hand on the greasy locks on top of his head, I pull, ripping it from his shoulders.

Blood sprays me, and the vampire I’d been speaking to roars and jumps to his feet, trying to get to me. I grip him by the throat again and pin him to the wall. “I’m not fucking around here, so how about you tell me what I wish to know so I can get out of here?”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Someone you don’t want to cross,” I warn, a low growl slipping from my throat.

His eyes widen. “You’re the Hawthorne.”

Smiling, I lean closer. “And you’re about to die. The way you go out though is entirely dependent on the information you give me.” I turn, pulling him off the wall and dragging him toward the sun.

He claws at my hand, eyes wide and terrified as he wiggles, trying to free himself from my grip. “Let me go! No! I don’t know who it was!”

Stopping just before the single beam of sunlight shooting in from the broken front door, I lift him off the ground and glare into his eyes. “You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?”

“I don’t know!” he repeats, his hands wrapped around my wrist. “They called me yesterday, said if I did this, they’d have a spot for me on the Council.”

I scoff. “They offered you a spot on the Council for killing a hunter?”

He nods frantically.

“It was the Council who ordered her death?”

“No, man. Not our Council. I’ve never heard this lady before. She just called, told me to kill her, and said I’d be rewarded with a seat.”

“You don’t even know what fucking Council they were referring to?”

“No, but it don’t matter. She’s reforming things. Changing the way immortals do business. And there’s no place for hunters.”

I shake my head, irritated. There’s no way in hell the Immortal Council would offer up a coveted spot to a drug-peddling newbie vampire. Which means there’s probably no way to track down who wants her dead. If it’s just a supernatural looking for a power grab, it could be literally anyone.

Which poses a massive problem for me since, as I mentioned before, I need her alive. “Anything else I should know?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

“Good.”

I squeeze and tear, removing his head from his body and tossing them both to the ground. After checking the hall directly behind me where he came from, I confirm one more dead human, but no vampires.

“You killed them,” a soft voice carries in from the direction the newbie disappeared into earlier.

I turn and face him. “I did.”

He lifts his face to me. “Kill me too, please.”

“What you are—it’s not the end of the world,” I tell him. Meaningless words since I’m actively looking for a way out myself.

But the hopelessness on his face, I’ve seen it more times than I care to count when it comes to vampires who are turned. Even the ones who think they know what they’re getting into regret it when the deed is done. The born ones know no difference, but the turned carry the memories of their previous life.

“I don’t want to be this. I don’t want to be alive,” he chokes out. “The blood, I can’t stand it. Please!” he rushes forward in the shadows and trips, falling into the sunlight. A scream rips through the small house, and he reaches for me.

I could grab him, pull him out of the sun, and try to talk some sense into him, but I don’t. Because I’m not that person.

There’s not a heroic bone in my body.

So instead, I walk toward him and slam my foot into his face, knocking him unconscious. He collapses all the way to the ground, his body sizzling in the sun as I walk outside and retrieve my jacket as though I didn’t just behead two vampires and have a hand in the death of a third.

6

Rainey

The precinct is busy as usual this morning, so I offer waves and smiles at some of the officers as I make my way over to my desk. Ramirez is already in, and there’s a fresh coffee on my desk. “Morning.”

“Morning. Got you coffee.”

“Thanks.” I take a sip as I remove my jacket and place it over the back of my chair.

“Heard you had a busy morning.”

Taking another sip of my coffee, I shrug. “It was interesting.”

Ramirez looks up from his computer. “I’m glad you were able to book him for something, but you know unless the man he attacked presses charges, we can’t hold him.”

Which he won’t. “I know. I think he just needs to sober up and come to the realization that Minnie is better off without him.”

“Let’s hope that’s what happens.”

“I already called Jane and told her what happened. Minnie’s getting her stuff and moving out while we’ve got him locked up.”

“Good. Bout time.”

“Agreed. Anything new pop up on that homicide?”

“We got IDs on the dead. All have been booked on prior drug charges, but the last charge for each was about four years ago. Seems they got clean and kept out of trouble until last night.”

Which means they were probably turned shortly after their last incarcerations. “Family?”

“None living for any of them.”

“Weird.” Though it’s really not. The Gale clan goes after the ones who won’t be missed.

“What’s really strange is that we have no known addresses, no employers for any of them.”

“No driver’s licenses?”

He shakes his head. “Expired. I sent units to the addresses listed, and they’re either vacant or have someone else living there.”

“I’d say that’s strange.” Another lie.

“Same. And that’s not even the weirdest thing that’s come up this morning.”

Lifting an eyebrow, I lean back against my seat. “And what could possibly be weirder than that?”

“Eight people came in early this morning and are refusing to talk to anyone but you. Said they were kidnapped but won’t give us any details.”

A prickle runs over my skin, and my stomach churns. Eight people? Who asked for me specifically? “Where are they?”

“St. Vincent’s.”

I get to my feet and grab my jacket. “Any idea what happened?”

“They won’t say. Just that they were held captive. Doctors say they’re malnourished, and some had lost a lot of blood.”

Lost a lot of blood. I clench both hands into fists and grind my teeth together. “They asked for me specifically?”

He nods. “Refused to talk to me even when I told them I was your partner. They requested you come interview them alone.”

“Well, guess I’ve got my morning planned.” I slip my jacket on. “Why didn’t anyone call me?”

“They were taken to the hospital about an hour ago. Figured you’d be in early enough.”

* * *

I hate hospitals. Always have, always will. Whether it’s the sterile smell or the way I feel a complete loss of control inside, I’m not sure. Hell, maybe it’s all of the above combined with the fact that they remind me of my mother. Either way, they’re my least favorite place to be.

I head in through the emergency room entrance and walk up to the window where I’m greeted by a woman wearing navy scrubs and large, red-rimmed glasses. “Hi, how can I help you?”

I pull the badge out from beneath my jacket. “I’m Detective Rainey Astor. I was told a group of people was brought in this morning.”

Her face softens, and she nods sadly. “We’ve been expecting you. Go down the hall and take your first left. The elevators are right there. They’re in room three-twenty-four.”

“Thank you.”

I follow her directions but stop just as I’m getting to the elevator. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as a shiver of awareness washes over me. Someone’s watching me again. Turning, I analyze the waiting room behind me, searching for anything—anyone—out of place. A handful of people sit in blue chairs, staring down at their phones, magazines, and after listening for any abnormalities, I dismiss the feeling. They’re all humans. Still, something is off. I narrow my eyes, seeking what I’m not seeing. A blurred shape appears in the corner of the room. I only see it because the paint is a shade off in that particular spot.

I step toward the room, and it moves, shifting to the side.

“Ma’am? Are you all right?”

Turning, I face a man wearing blue scrubs that match the ones worn by the receptionist I spoke to earlier. “Yeah, fine.” I search for the shape again, but nothing’s there. Nothing out of the ordinary, and yet, I can still feel eyes on me all the way to the elevator.

As soon as I step onto the third floor, I’m greeted by a grey-haired man wearing a white coat. “Detective Astor?”

“That’s me.”

He holds out a slightly wrinkled hand. His soft blue eyes are kind and shielded by silver glasses. “I’m Doctor Harris. The E.R. registrar told me you were coming.”

“How are they?”

“Pretty banged up. My best guess, based on the markings and blood loss, is that they were attacked by some kind of animal. Though, to be frank, the bites are unlike any I’ve ever seen.”

Some kind of animal, indeed. “Where are they?”

“This way.” He leads me down the hall and stops right before a door.

“All eight are in here?”

He nods. “Some didn’t need additional medical attention, and they refused to separate into different rooms. Sometimes people who’ve faced a traumatic experience together bond over it. It’s not unusual. We notified families, so they should be here shortly.”

I nod and knock on the door as he steps away.

A woman calls out, “Come in.”

I push the door open and step inside as eight pairs of curious and exhausted eyes land on me. “I’m Detective Rainey Astor,” I say, showing them my badge. “I heard you wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes, please. Close the door.” A woman wearing dirty blue jeans and a stained, torn sweatshirt gestures behind me, so I shut the door. There are two beds, one holding a teenage boy who looks to be no older than fourteen, and the other holding a woman who has so many bite marks on her throat I can see them from here. Fucking vampires.

Just to be sure, I listen for anything abnormal in the way their hearts beat but find nothing. They’re definitely human. “Can you tell me what happened?” I ask, crossing my arms.

The woman glances around the room, and everyone looks at her before nodding. Seems we have the leader. “He said you’ll believe us.”

“Who?”

“The man who let us out.”

“Does he have a name?”

She shakes her head. “He never said. He told us to go to the precinct and ask for you. That we should only talk to you.”

That’s a new one. “Then let’s talk.” I lean against a counter beside the needle disposal.

“We were taken by vampires,” she whispers.

Color me surprised. “When?”

“You believe us?” a man asks from the corner, and I nod.

“Let’s just say I’ve seen my fair share of weird. Go on.”

“Different times. I was taken from the parking lot of a grocery store, James was taken when he was walking home from school.”

“I was grabbed after work,” a woman who appears to be in her early twenties says.

“My house.”

“The gym.”

“I was out jogging.”

One by one, they tell me where they were grabbed. All from different locations throughout the city, and none of them knew each other before they woke up in what is described to me as a dungeon.

Dark, damp, made of brick.

“They fed on us,” James says, his voice cracking as he clutches the blankets to his chest.

“Tell me about the man who rescued you. Why didn’t he come here with you?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say he rescued us,” the man who said he’d been grabbed from his office chimed in. “He said he wasn’t doing it for us.”

“Did he say why?”

“No. Just that we shouldn’t thank him.”

Interesting. “Can you tell me anything else about him?”

“He was one of them,” the same man whispers.

I lift an eyebrow. “You were rescued by a vampire?” Another new one for me. A vampire saving humans? Can it get any stranger?

“We don’t know if that’s what he is, Stan,” the leader snaps.

“He broke the chains without an issue!”

“He could’ve been a superhero,” James adds from his bed.

“What did he look like?” I pull out my notebook and flip to a new page.

“Probably about your age, well built, shoulder-length hair. His eyes were blue. Brighter than any I’ve ever seen.”

“Any tattoos? Scars?”

“No, but he had an accent.”

Blue eyes, thick accent, long hair. “What kind of accent?”

“Irish maybe? He sounded like that actor—what’s his name?—Collin Farrell.” She snaps her fingers. “That was it.”

That can’t be a coincidence. “So this stranger let you out—seemingly for his own gain and not yours. Did he ask you for anything in return?”

“No, just that we go see you and only you.”

I clench my teeth together and try to put seemingly mismatched puzzle pieces together. The alley last night, the humans today. Is it possible they’re related somehow? “Do you remember where you were held?”

“We don’t know the exact location we were brought in, but I can tell you exactly where we climbed out.”

“Tell me.”

7

Elijah

Sunglasses shielding me from the bright sun, I watch the entrance of the hospital as Rainey Astor steps out onto the sidewalk. She’s wearing black jeans and a leather jacket, looking every bit the bloodthirsty hunter her lineage is known for.

The Astors are much like the Hawthornes—deadly, ancient, and direct descendants of the originals. Our main differences being the species we were born as. She’s from a line of hunters while I descend from vampires.

Let’s not even add in the witch side of me. I tap into my power and slow my heartbeat just enough so she doesn’t pick up any abnormality. It’s not quite the time for her to know about me, so I don’t approach. Where I go from here depends on what she’s about to do. When it does come time though, let’s hope rescuing eight humans earned me at least the opportunity to speak with her before she tries to take my head off.

She straddles a motorcycle and speeds off, so I head back toward my car and climb in to follow. I’m pretty damn sure I know exactly where she’s going. A stupid move, but hunters haven’t ever truly been known for their brainpower.

I’m not being an asshole. They will walk into a trap, knowing what it is and still thinking they’ll survive. When you consider yourself invincible, there’s little you fear. While people may believe fear weakens you—a healthy dose of it can actually save your life.

From what I know of Rainey though, she’s smarter than most but completely unaware of what she’s actually capable of. With hunters, the power is spread through the bloodline. The more hunters alive in a family, the less power per.

Rainey is the last of her line. The final Astor walking, which makes her a hell of a lot more powerful than your run-of-the-mill hunter. Especially given the Astors are, as I said, direct descendants. She’s been the last Astor for long enough that the power should be concentrated in her blood. Because of that, she should have spotted me in the club. Should have sensed my power when I sat beside her. And yet, I was able to fool her just as I fool the others.

Which is a huge problem.

I promised Delaney years ago that I would keep an eye on Rainey if anything were to happen to her, and ever since her death, I’ve done everything possible to avoid fulfilling that particular promise. Mainly because I always felt like I failed Delaney. It wasn’t romantic between us, never was, but our relationship developed into something akin to friendship. And I can’t help but feel responsible for not being there the night she was killed.

Instead, she’d gone out with another hunter and had her throat ripped out by shifters. My hands tighten almost painfully on the steering wheel as I make a turn and follow Rainey down another street. She’s just turning off when I pull onto it, so I park and opt to walk the rest of the way.

We’re close enough to the street I brought the survivors through that if I continue following, she might get suspicious. The air has a bit of a chill to it, which isn’t uncommon this time of year even though we’re still a couple of months away from the winter.

Humans stroll past me, unable to see past the cloak I’ve placed over myself. Yet another spell Rainey should have been able to penetrate with her hunter abilities. I’ve been following her for weeks now, and while she’s turned toward me a few times, she’s not noticed me once.

Honestly, I’ve wondered a time or two whether or not she’s full-blooded. It would explain why she’s yet to tap into her heritage.

I turn onto the street I sent the survivors down this morning and am greeted with the sight of Rainey bent over, staring down through the manhole she removed. I never had sexual thoughts for Delaney despite how beautiful she was. But Rainey bent over? I’d be a fool if I didn’t admit what a delicious sight it is.

Kneeling, she places both hands on the side of the entrance. Surely she’s not going to—“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I murmur as she jumps down inside. “Damned bloodthirsty hunters.” I race toward the entrance, no longer concerned about her seeing past my cloak. A spell that only works on me. I’m not powerful enough to shield us both should she come under attack.

Which is a deadly possibility seeing as how the Council will already be on edge with the humans escaping. And the chances that everyone is sleeping soundly? Slim to none since they’ll likely be preparing for the Council’s departure.

The soles of my leather shoes pound softly on the ground of the stone tunnel. Reaching up, I slide the cover back into place and run through the dim light. Rainey is nowhere in sight, but with how curvy the tunnels are, she could be just around the corner.

Left turn. Still nothing. My heart pounds even faster than normal, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I drop my visibility cloak.

Make a right here. Someone grunts ahead, and I pump my arms faster as fear surges through my veins. The fear that I’m about to stumble on her corpse is overwhelming. Blood. The copper-tinged air around me reeks of it.

Not a hunter. Two bodies lie on the bloody stones around the next corner, I barely offer them a glance as I pass, though. Rainey is just ahead.

“What do we have here?”

Abruptly, I come to a stop before rounding the next corner.

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same question,” Rainey replies.

I slip my cloak back into place and step around the corner. She’s just ahead of me, maybe three or four yards away, and facing off with two of the Council’s guards. I move closer, wanting to be near enough to grab her should shit go bad.

“You’re in our place, hunter bitch.”

“You kidnapped eight humans. That makes you my problem.”

“And what do you think you’re going to do? Seems like you’re pretty outnumbered.”

She snorts and puts both hands on her hips. To them, it looks like she’s simply taken a comforting stance, but the silver tips of two daggers are just barely visible beneath the cuffs of her leather jacket.

Rainey shrugs. “I like my chances.”

One of the vamps snarls, his canines descending. “I should tell you I love the taste of hunter. Especially while I’m fucking and eating.”

I stiffen, hands curling into fists at my sides as I prepare for a fight. Fucking sadistic bastard. Over my dead body.

“You’re not my type. Not into men who look like they belong in boy bands.”

He growls. “You’ll want it when I’m done with you.”

If he takes one step toward her—Rainey lifts her arms, dispatching both daggers. They fly end over end so fucking quickly that I don’t see them until they’re buried in the throats of both vamp guards. They fall backward, gasping for air, and Rainey doesn’t miss a beat. She runs forward, rips both daggers free, and keeps moving.

When she’s out of view, I drop my cloak and cross the tunnel toward the two vamps. The one who stayed silent is already dead. But the one who threatened her—he’s staring up at me, eyes wide with fear because he knows he’s done for. The silver did it. It’s toxic to us, and any mortal wound made with it is one we won’t recover from.

Mouth full of blood, he tries to speak, but it’s only unintelligible gurgling. I kneel beside him. “You shouldn’t have threatened her,” I tell him. “If you hadn’t, I might have given you a quick death. Now, you will lie here, drowning in your own blood, and wonder if perhaps you should have just kept your fucking mouth shut.”

His red eyes widen, and he tries to lift a hand toward me as I straighten and continue down the tunnel. Rainey is stopped at the end of the hall, glancing around a corner. Cloak back in place, I don’t hesitate to move closer to her.

She straightens and leans back against the wall as she reaches up and ties her long brown hair up in a bun. Then, Rainey reaches down and withdraws a twelve-inch silver blade from her boot. Deep breath. Her chest rises and falls, and I’m struck by the strength in the way she holds herself.

Even if I do think her coming down here alone was a stupid mistake.

Rainey lunges around the corner, blade up high, and I follow. Metal clashes against metal as she strikes, swinging the silver with a precision that would rival even my own.

Victoria stands wide-eyed in the corner, fear evident in every line of her ancient face. I can’t help but take some joy from it.

Rainey grunts, pulling my attention from the council member and back to the hunter I followed into the belly of what I would consider a close second to hell. She’s bent over at the waist, sucking in a deep breath as the vampire descends on her, fangs bared, a feral smile on his face.

My fingers twitch at my sides. Get up, Hunter. Get to your damned feet! Adrenaline surging, I wait another heartbeat before taking a step. But just as I’m about to jump in, she brings her blade up, burying it in his chin.

Blood pours down on top of her, and I stop in my tracks as she gets to her feet again.

“Tell me,” Rainey says, clearing her throat. “Which of the humans were yours?”

“Excuse me?” Victoria straightens, forcing a false bravado even the densest creature would see through.

I step up beside Rainey, keeping my cloak firmly in place.

“I know the humans came from here. Judging by your ridiculously expensive cloak, I’m assuming you’re the rich bitch who was holding them.”

Shit. She doesn’t even realize what she’s stumbled on. How does she not know of the Council?

“I maintain that I do not know what you are referring to, Hunter. But I would appreciate it if you left. I’ve done no wrong, and you’re in my home.”

“I’m not inclined to let you walk.” Rainey moves closer, casually spinning her blade. “I’ll give you one last chance to tell me the truth.”

Victoria bares her fangs and slowly removes her white gloves. “I don’t take kindly to threats.”

“And I don’t take kindly to innocent teenage boys being drained of their blood.”

The councilwoman grins. “He sure did taste delicious though. So young, so sweet.” Victoria charges, slashing out with the talons she calls nails. Rainey hisses as the council member’s nails scrape against her cheek, drawing blood. “That feel good? Should start to burn any minute.”

Rainey lunges with her dagger in hand, but Victoria blocks it and shoves Rainey back, palm to chest.

She stumbles, nearly into me, before recovering and sending a dagger, end over end, at Victoria. The council member dodges it, jumping to the side. Rainey shakes her head as if she’s trying to clear it, and Victoria laughs.

“Neurotoxin embedded in my nail polish,” she says. “Really makes the chase a lot easier when they can’t run far.”

My gut twists, and I take a step toward Rainey. I’d really rather not reveal myself yet, but if I don’t and she dies—

Rainey lowers her head and charges, taking Victoria to the ground and bringing her dagger up, burying it down into the council member’s chest.

She kneels on top of her, lingering over Victoria as she dies. Then, after ripping her blade free, Rainey rolls to the side and closes her eyes, breathing deeply. I move closer, stopping just above her and focusing my attention on the claw marks on the side of her face.

They’re not deep, and it looks like they’re already healing. Her biggest issue now will be waiting for the toxin to fully leave her bloodstream. I glare over at Victoria and stifle a growl.

Footsteps in the hall. Get the hell up, Hunter. Time to go. Rainey doesn’t budge.

Closer now.

Still, she doesn’t move.

“Get the hell up!” I roar, and Rainey jumps to her feet, staggering and resting a hand against the wall.

Frantically, she scans the room for me. “Where are you? Show yourself!”

“You’d damn well better get a move on, Hunter. They’re coming for you.”

Turning toward the hall, she narrows her eyes a moment before they widen, and she turns, palming her dagger. Feet pounding as I follow through the tunnels, I watch as Rainey races toward the exit, stumbling every few steps.

I glance over my shoulder. Still clear, but they would have found Victoria by now, which means they’ll be descending on us at any moment. Turning back ahead, I stop just in time to avoid slamming into Rainey.

She’s breathing heavily, one hand resting on the stone wall, head hanging low.

“Move, dammit,” I urge.

“I can’t see clearly,” she snaps back.

Someone yells behind us, a male’s voice echoing down the tunnels. “Fuck.” I drop my cloak and reach down, tossing her over my shoulder and racing the rest of the way toward the exit.

“Put me the hell down!”

“Shut up, or I’ll leave you to die.”

Sweat beads on my skin as we race through the humid tunnel. The ladder comes into view, so I push harder, setting her down beside the ladder and climbing up to shove the cover aside. I reach down for her, but she slaps my hand away, aiming a murderous glare in my direction. Her eyes are glassy though, so I don’t imagine she’s made me just yet.

“I can take it from here.”

I step back, and Rainey gets to her feet, climbing out and into the sunlight. After putting my cloak back into place, I follow her up and climb into the sunlight. Rainey turns in a slow circle, searching for me.

“Can you see yet?” I ask.

“No. Where the hell are you?” She turns, hands outstretched. “Why were you down there?”

When her back is to me, I slide the cover back into place and stop just in front of her.

“Stop acting like an eejit and start thinking like the predator you are.” I start down the street, moving away from her. She’s safe as long as she gets the hell off this street before nightfall.

8

Rainey

“Hello? Where the hell did you go?” I turn in a slow circle, muscles burning, head aching from whatever toxin that bitch had on her nails.

Since my vision is still blurry as hell, I know taking my bike home isn’t an option. I pinch the bridge of my nose and bite down on the slew of words I’d love nothing more than to release into the world right now.

Fucking vampires. The bloodsuckers can’t even fight clean. Pulling out my cell, I hold the screen close to my face and manage to hit Jack’s number from my recent calls.

“Hello?”

“I need you to come get me.”

“Where?”

After rattling off the address, I head for where I left my bike and sit on the curb beside it to wait for my ride. Everything around me is a blur. As much as I try to focus on the man who pulled me from the tunnels, I can’t get a clear picture of his face.

He’d been Irish though. That much was clear, which means I was more than likely pulled out by the man who’d sat beside me at the club. After all, how many Irishmen could there be in Billings?

I can still hear his voice echoing in my brain. “Get the hell up!” But even before the vamp poisoned me, I didn’t see anyone. How the hell did he get right up behind me?

“Shut up, or I’ll let you die.” Why save me in the first place? It’s not like hunters have many supernatural friends, and there was no way whoever—or whatever—had been down there with me was human—was he? The man at the club had been, so either it’s a different man altogether, or I’d been wrong in my assessment of him.

I really hoped it wasn’t the latter. That would be a massive blow to my pride.

Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath. The pain in my face is just a dull ache now, so hopefully, it won’t be long before the fucking toxin wears completely off.

“Call for a pickup?”

I glance up, able to make out the shape of Jack’s truck but little more. “Thanks.” Taking cautious steps, I reach for the hood of his truck, resting my hand on the warmth as I walk around and feel for the passenger seat.

“Leaving your bike?”

“I’m having some trouble seeing at the moment, and I’d rather not kill anyone on my way home.” I shut the door and clip the seatbelt over my chest.

“Shit, what happened?” All curious amusement vanishes from his voice, and he reaches for me, touching my cheek where the damned vampire scratched me.

I slide away from him. “Neurotoxin. Let’s get out of here, and I’ll fill you in on the way.”

“You’ve got it.” Jack’s truck begins to move, so I close my eyes and lean against the back of the headrest. “Where am I taking you?” he asks.

“While you were finding out my name, did you happen to figure out where I lived also?”

“No.”

“The apartments on fifth. If you show up without being invited, I’ll kill you.”

He chuckles softly. “Noted. Call first.”

* * *

“Hold the fucking phone, you went—alone—into a nest of vampires? What the hell were you thinking?”

I take a drink from my mug and stare over at Jack, who’s currently pacing a hole in my carpet. “I didn’t know it was a nest.” And, apparently, I wasn’t alone. Though, I’m not mentioning that particular development. I just wish I’d gotten a better look at whoever pulled me out. Not that I need it. His voice was familiar enough, and I have every intention of tracking the bastard down, and if it’s not the man who sat beside me at the club? It’ll be an awkward conversation, but at least I’ll know.

“But you knew humans had been held there, Rainey. You’re smart, which means you deduced for yourself that it was more than likely a nest without having to experience it firsthand.”

I shrug. He’s not wrong. I’d assumed there’d be more than one vamp down in the tunnels. What I hadn’t counted on, however, was queen bitch and her nails of poison. Either way, I’m not one to pull punches, so when I reply, it’s with total honesty. “I’m still not sure I can trust you, and until I do, you can expect to be left out of quite a few—if not all—of the decisions I make.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, lips pursed together, blue gaze narrowed on me. “Then why are you telling me now? If the great Rainey Astor needs no help, why even bother calling?”

“Because I have confirmation that it’s a nest, which means it needs to be flushed out, and I can’t do that alone.” My phone rings, so I set my mug down on the coffee table and grab my cell. “What’s up, Ramirez?”

“You never showed back up after the hospital, so I wanted to make sure you were good.”

“I’m fine. Following up on some leads.” I stare up at Jack, who is still glaring down at me.

“You coming back in this afternoon? I might have something on last night’s homicides.”

“Yeah, I can be there in about twenty.”

“See you then.”

I end the call and retrieve my mug. After getting to my feet, I head into the kitchen and rinse it then turn to face Jack, who’s followed me. “I’m not here to take your place, Rainey.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I told you. I heard there’s been an increase in activity here. I wasn’t sure there was already a hunter.”

You ever watch those televised poker matches? The ones where everyone is supposed to be more than professional and have no visible tells? I do, and I can always spot them. Which means that when the corner of Jack’s eye twitches ever so slightly, I see it, plain as day.

And it tells me everything I need to know at the moment. Jack is hiding something. “Now you know, so why are you still here?”

He arches a dark eyebrow. “Seriously? Twice now, I’ve helped you out, and you’re going to act like I’m a nuisance?”

I glare at him, grateful my vision is fully restored. “I appreciate your help,” I reply honestly. “But don’t think for a second that I don’t know you’re not being fully honest with me.”

He nods in understanding, his jaw tightening. “We all have our secrets. Just don’t go back to that nest without backup, Rainey. Your pride isn’t worth your life.”

“If it was, I wouldn’t have called you for help. I’ve been doing this alone for two years, Jack. And I’ve been a cop for a lot longer than that. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“No one said you did. But I’ve been at this for nearly four decades,” he says. “Which is a lot longer than you, Rainey. I’m not saying that I know more, but I’ve seen some shit and lost some people. Our kind is thinning out, and soon—if we aren’t careful—we’re going to end up on the losing end.”

I don’t even bat an eye at his age. Hunters’ life spans are a hell of a lot longer than humans. Until we hit our twenties, we seem to age normally, but after that, the longer we hunt, the slower we age. Basically, we can live a calm life and die early, but give us an overload of stress while we narrowly escape death, and we can live forever.

“Great. Then we understand each other. I have to go into the precinct.”

“You’ll call before you head back to that nest?”

“Yes.” I open the door and move to the side so Jack can come out. Then, I lock the door, check to make sure it’s secure, and head downstairs. “Think you can take me back to my bike?”

“No problem.” His tone is curt, agitated, but I can’t even begin to care. Especially not after his little eye twitch. Yes, everyone has secrets, God knows I have a shit ton of my own. But when his secret could very well be that he’s here to take my family’s territory from me, I’ll be damned if I give him the benefit of the doubt.

I eye him carefully, watching the confident way he carries himself, the way he studies the hallway and doesn’t miss a single thing. No, there’s no fucking way his secret is anything less than nuclear.

We descend the steps to the parking garage in silence as I ponder the few things I do know about Jack Keller.

One, he’s powerful. I can sense the energy rolling off him in waves. Combine that with the fighting skills I witnessed firsthand last night, and he can make a great ally or a formidable enemy. Two, he cares that I’m alive—for the moment. If he didn’t, there’s no way he would have been that pissed that I’d gone into the nest alone.

And three—which is perhaps the most important—he’s hiding something.

I intend to figure out just what the hell it is. Especially if he’s planning on sticking around. I’m not threatened by him, not in the least. Honestly, I couldn’t care less that he’s been doing this longer than me. I’m damn good at it, but I’ve never sought to compare myself to the best.

I’m not that arrogant.

Stepping down onto concrete, I shove open the door into the parking garage and immediately stop in my tracks. “What the hell?”

“Isn’t that your bike?” Jack asks as we stare at the fire engine red Harley sitting before us, a familiar red bag perched on the seat.

I search the garage for anyone who might have brought it back—probably the man who carried me out of the tunnel, but I see no one.

“Are those Skittles?” he asks, moving up to my bike. “Who the hell would have brought it back?”

I didn’t tell him that someone was down there with me.

“Someone must have spotted it as mine,” I say and shove the skittles into my zipped jacket before climbing on.

“You’re going to eat those? You don’t even know who left them.”

“I know they’re Skittles, and I’m hungry. Not like I can get sick if someone’s trying to poison me.” I don’t give him a chance to argue. “Thanks again for your help today. I’ll give you a call when I’m ready to clear it out.”

Jack nods, and without waiting for a response, I fire up my bike and pull out onto the street.

* * *

I walk into the precinct, hoping Ramirez has something that won’t distract me too long. I’m determined to discover the identity of the mystery man who pulled me from the tunnels.

It has to be the same man from the club. Two Irishmen in Billings? That’s too much of a coincidence for me, and as soon as I get a chance, I’ll be checking incoming flights from overseas with anyone carrying a passport from Ireland. Though, if I really think about it, I cannot imagine it will help much. His accent is apparent, but it’s not quite as thick as I’d expect from someone who recently traveled here.

No, I’d bet he’s been in the States for quite some time.

“So, what do you have for me?” I ask, tossing my jacket onto the back of my chair and taking a seat at my desk.

Ramirez hands me a file, and I open it. An image of the dead vampire female is on top. “The M.E. finished her autopsy.”

“And?”

“The vic’s stomach was full of blood,” he says, eyes wide with a mixture of horror and intrigue.

“Isn’t that to be expected? She probably choked on it when her throat was ripped out.” I keep my tone level, a feat that took quite a bit of time to master once I realized I was going to have to toe a line between both the human and supernatural worlds.

“It’s not her blood.”

I raise an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “What?”

“The blood in her stomach isn’t from her.”

“Was it from the killer?”

“It didn’t match anyone in the alley, so I ran the DNA through the system, and we got a match.” He tosses the image of a man I only briefly saw in the club. He’d been in a haze and probably won’t remember the blonde who interrupted his near-death. However, as I stare down at the dark-haired man, I can’t help but feel a bit nervous.

He could be one hell of a loose end.

“Meet Darrell Smith.”

“What’s the guy in the system for?”

“Mr. Smith here has been in and out of the system for the last ten years. Drugs, traffic violation, an aggravated robbery. He’s bad news.”

“And our female vic had a stomach full of his blood.”

“Exactly.”

“Then I say we go pay Mr. Smith a visit, shall we?” We’re getting to our feet when the phone on Ramirez’s desk rings.

“Ramirez.” He meets my eyes and nods. “Send me the address.” After hanging up the phone, he starts to shrug into his jacket. “Looks like Mr. Smith is going to have to wait. We’ve got another one.”

“Where?”

“South of the city. Apparently, we’ve got five dead this time.”

“Shit.”

“Let’s get after it.”

9

Rainey

The tinfoil covering the windows is a dead giveaway.

“You’re going to want this,” an officer steps forward, a container of Vicks in his hand. We each take a swipe and put it beneath our noses to block out whatever smell is waiting for us on the other side of the front door.

Climbing the rickety porch steps, I listen intently for any extra heartbeats. If there are more vampires lurking inside, I’d rather know before going in.

An officer steps out, lifting the yellow caution tape so Ramirez and I can duck inside. The door’s been kicked in, leaving wood splinters scattered inside the living room near the first body. He’s been badly burned, his skin black charcoal now.

Sunlight can be a real bitch for these fuckers.

The stench hits me like a pile of bricks, my enhanced senses picking it up even beyond the vapor rub beneath my nostrils.

“What do we have?” Ramirez asks, and the officers inside turn toward us. “Other than a fucking rancid crime scene.”

“Two bodies look like they’ve been dead for a while. This one here,” he says, gesturing to a nearly naked man on top of the kitchen island, “and a female in one of the back bedrooms. They’re covered in small puncture wounds near each of their major veins. Honestly,” he starts, chuckling darkly, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say some vampires got to them.”

I stiffen, his half-assed attempt at a joke hitting far too close to home. “Great, we’ll put out an APB on Dracula,” I reply dryly. “What about the others?”

“More recent kills, blood is still fairly fresh.”

“I’d estimate they died sometime this morning,” the M.E. straightens and wipes her forearm across her forehead.

“What about this guy?” Ramirez gestures to the well-done vampire in the doorway.

“Probably the same, though I’ll know more once I do a full autopsy.”

“Did someone pour accelerant on him?” I ask, keeping up the ‘this is weird as shit’ ruse I’ve grown accustomed to the past couple of years.

She sighs and shuts the case on her iPad. “That would be a logical explanation, though I don’t know how the fire didn’t spread to the rest of the house.”

I move further into the house, covering my nose and fighting the urge to run outside and hurl. Remember how I said our enhanced senses can make things distracting? This is definitely one of those times. The stench of the dead is overwhelming.

I stop beside the first headless vamp. He’s dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt, the injury to his neck not a clean cut. “How did this guy lose his head?”

“Honestly? Looks like it was ripped clean off. The skin isn’t even near the tear, and the blood spatter indicates something a hell of a lot more violent than a blade.”

Ripped off? Even as strong as we are, there’s no way this was done by a hunter. “Where’s the rest of him?”

“Near the couch.”

I turn and take one step before stilling completely. I recognize him. Kneeling beside his head, I stare into the dead eyes of the fifth vamp from last night. The one who escaped up the alleyway.

So this is the Gale clan’s hidey-hole? Guess he didn’t get far. I stand and head toward the actual victim, a man who looks like he’s been chewed on for days. His skin is a pale grey, and bite marks mar the skin over every one of his major veins along with some scattered in other locations on his body.

The guy did not die peacefully, and I sure as hell hope whoever took out these vamps made them pay for what they’d done. “Where’s the other body? The one that’s been dead as long as this guy.”

“Back here.”

I follow the M.E. through the house, passing dark spots in the carpet I know aren’t normal stains. I can feel the death permeating the air around me, wrapping me in its dark embrace.

The room is small with a mattress on the floor as the only furniture inside. There are no blankets, and the body is lying spread eagle, facedown, in a red stain. The woman is topless, wearing nothing but a pair of stained white underwear.

My hands clench into fists at my sides. “What do we know?” I ask through teeth clenched so tightly I have the brief thought that they may shatter in my mouth.

“I wish I could say there was no sexual trauma, but based on the findings from the blacklight, I’d say she had sex sometime prior to her murder. Though, I won’t know whether it was consensual or forced until I do a more thorough examination.”

My guess is she thought she wanted it. “How many puncture wounds?” I ask. Can’t really suggest bite marks since vampire fangs leave tiny holes rather than jagged tears.

“Two.” The M.E. gestures to the woman’s exposed throat and the two wounds on her jugular.

So the asshole kept her to himself while the others fed on the man. “Do we have an ID on her or the man?”

“Not yet.”

“Let’s figure it out.” I turn and nearly run into Ramirez. His eyes are narrow slits, his nostrils flared.

“No need. I know her.”

“Who is she?”

“Ollie Patrick. She was my CI. Worked with me on a few cases before we got partnered.”

A CI who wound up in a vampire den? Could be a coincidence.

Could be she ratted on the wrong person. A lot of the more dangerous humans in and around Billings know full well about the supernatural world. And most of the time, they pay vampires to do their dirty work.

“You sure it’s her?”

He nods. “I recognize the tattoo on her wrist.”

I glance over at the single band of ink encircling her left wrist.

“She was homeless,” he adds. “Hooked on coke.”

So, whoever drained her was after a high. Probably is a coincidence then. As much as I hate to admit it. “I’m sorry,” I tell him, clasping him on the shoulder as I walk out of the room and into the hall.

“Let them have the scene,” Ramirez tells the beat cop near the door as we walk out into the sunlight.

We climb into our service car—a black Malibu—and I glance over at my partner, who looks like he’s one shred of bad news away from losing his shit. The relationship between cop and CI is complicated. While I wouldn’t call it genuine affection, you come to rely on the other person. “You good?”

He glances over, lips flattened in a tight line. “I hate that she went out that way. She’d gotten clean a few times, and I was hoping, eventually, one of them would stick.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It happens.” He pulls out of the drive. “Shall we go pay a visit to Mr. Smith now?”

“Might as well. We won’t know more until the M.E. gets back to us, which will probably be quite a few hours.”

“What the hell is going on?” he asks me. “Two back-to-back crime scenes, both with beheadings, puncture wounds, and both multiple victims. Is it possible we have a serial killer on our hands?”

We do. It’s just not what you think. “I wish I knew.”

10

Rainey

Darrell Smith lives on the outskirts of one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Billings. It’s well known for drug and crime and is so dangerous even the beat cops avoid it unless they have to come in response to a call. And as coincidences would have it, it’s only about five miles from the last crime scene. Still located firmly in Gale territory.

The small trailer is situated in the center of an empty field, its white siding stained brown. Ramirez and I climb out and follow the patio stone path leading up to the door.

Alongside the bottom of the trailer; garbage is stacked up, empty beer cans, bottles, and various other shit I have no intention of looking at too closely.

“You want to knock, or should I?” Ramirez asks with disgust, gesturing to the brown-smeared door. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a blue latex glove and hold it up.

“I’ve got it.” At least if that is actual shit on the door, I won’t catch anything I can’t wash off from accidental contact. I knock three times before yelling, “Mr. Smith, this is the police. We need to talk to you about an attack late last night.”

Something crashes inside. Glass breaks, and Ramirez mutters a curse as he draws his weapon. “I’ll head around back.”

I draw mine and call out one more time. “Mr. Smith, I’m coming inside!”

“No! Stay out! I’m warning you!”

“Probable cause, Mr. Smith!” I yell out right before I kick the door in. Boot to warped tin, it caves in on contact, and I rush through as sun pours into the entry. The place smells like a sickening combination of death and human shit. And unfortunately for me, I wiped off my Vicks in the car.

Fucking lovely. I cough, unable to cover my mouth since my weapon is drawn. Instead, I do my best not to focus on the nasty ass particles I’m probably inhaling.

“You shouldn’t have come in.” Someone whimpers in the corner, and I turn, weapon in front of me. “You should have stayed outside,” he cries again.

I move further inside, coming up to a stained, ripped armchair sitting in the far corner. Moving to the side, I angle around the back and get my first look at a terrified Darrell Smith. He stares up at me with blood-red eyes, his tear-stained cheeks bruised, the purple and yellow covering most of his face.

“What is that stench?” Ramirez chokes as he comes inside.

“I know what you are. They warned me about you,” Smith cries out as he backs further into the trailer.

“We’re Detectives with the Billings Police Department,” Ramirez replies from the doorway. He doesn’t know that it wasn’t our day jobs the new vampire was referring to.

“Who told you I was coming?” I ask. Shit. Ramirez comes to stand beside me, getting his first full look at Darrell.

“What’s wrong with your eyes? Were you attacked?”

The blood-red of their eyes fade away when vampires are killed. It takes a few hours, but once the bloodlust is gone, so are the red irises.

“She is going to kill me!” he yells, pointing to me.

“No one’s going to kill you.” Ramirez holsters his firearm, and I lower mine, not willing to put it away completely. He doesn’t know what we’re up against. I do. “We need to ask you a few questions.”

“I don’t know nothing!” he yells, spit flying out of his mouth.

“Think you can come with us down to the station? Just to answer a few questions.” Ramirez reaches down.

“No, don’t touch him. Looks like he could be contagious.” No way in hell I’m letting this vamp bite my partner.

“I ain’t going nowhere with you.”

“Maybe go call it in?” I suggest. I need a few minutes alone with the freshly turned vampire because I very much doubt my particular brand of questioning will be received well by Ramirez.

“Yeah. You good?”

“Don’t leave me alone with her!” he yells.

“I’m good.”

With a nod, Ramirez steps out of the trailer. The moment he’s out of earshot, I holster my gun and kneel in front of the vampire, withdrawing the silver blade safely tucked away in my boot.

“Who turned you?”

“I ain’t answering nothing.”

“You were still human last night when I pulled that female vamp off your throat.”

His eyes widen.

“Yeah, that was me. So how about you tell me who turned you?”

“I ain’t telling you nothing,” he says again.

“Listen, dickhead. I don’t have much time.”

“You can’t do shit to me.”

“Actually, I have a dead female vampire in the morgue who has a stomach full of your blood. Which places you at the crime scene. So I can arrest you, drag you outside, and watch you burst into flames. Or, you can answer my questions.”

He bares his fangs at me. “The hunter bitch is going to die.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what they told me when they turned me loose. ‘The hunter bitch is going to die.’”

I swallow hard. “Who is they?”

“They’re going to kill you, and I get to live forever.” The weak, whimpering man from minutes ago is gone, his fear-filled gaze replaced with a murderous grin as he gets to his feet, still shielded from the sunlight streaming in through the broken door. “You shouldn’t have brought a human to a supernatural fight,” he says.

I turn to the door. Ramirez is outside—alone.

“Better hurry, bitch. They’ll be here soon. If they aren’t already.”

“Hey, Astor!” Ramirez calls in from outside. “We got some company.”

“Get to the car!” I scream as I turn on my heel and race outside when an SUV with tinted windows rolls up, skidding to the side. A black-gloved arm holding a weapon appears in the window, and I dive for Ramirez as the bullets begin to fly.

“What the hell!” Ramirez yells as I land on top of him, rolling him out of the way and in front of our car.

“Call it in!” I yell, pulling out my weapon and peering around the corner. I fire at the SUV, but my bullets don’t even make a dent.

Bulletproof. Fucking perfect.

“This is Detective Ramirez. We need backup immediately. We’re taking heavy fire from an unmarked black SUV.” He rattles off the address, and I reach up again, firing one last time. A bullet makes it into the cracked window.

Someone curses before I can hear an electric window rolling up as the car peels away. I waste no time. “Stay here,” I order and race into the trailer. It’s riddled with bullet holes, and as I make it to the corner where Smith had been before I ran outside, I find his dead body.

They must have used silver bullets. Which means this was not just a hit on me. These fuckers wanted him dead, too. Apparently forever was all of a few hours.

“What the hell just happened?” Ramirez questions as he looks around the trailer.

“I have no damn clue,” I answer. And for the first time involving a supernatural case, I’m not lying. We walk outside, stepping into the bright sun as sirens screech ahead. And there, on the roof of our car, are three black crows.

11

Rainey

The diner just on the outside of town is well known by the supernaturals for two things.

Delicious fucking pancakes and the handoffs you want no one to notice. From my perch on the roof of the place, I scan the nearly empty parking lot, waiting for anything—anyone—doing something they shouldn’t be.

It’s nearing two a.m., and since I’ve been up here for the better part of four hours, smelling the delicious scents of the aforementioned pancakes, you can say I’m getting a tad antsy—and really fucking hangry.

I roll my shoulders, my hunter senses picking up meaningless chatter from inside the diner, even as I focus on the sounds beyond the dim parking lot lights.

After nearly dying today, I needed a way to expel some fucking energy or I was going to go insane.

And according to Ramirez, his CI used to frequent this place as the owner would feed her out of pity. Chances are good that someone grabbed her from here. Could be they’re already dead, but this place is outside of Gale territory, which means someone more than likely sold her to the low-life vampires.

Sold her for a fucking high.

I bite back a growl as I clench my fist.

Someone moves just beyond the line of shadows, and I narrow my eyes, listening for the sound of a heartbeat but get none. Which means, the party has finally fucking arrived.

I hear a soft thump and someone falling to the ground.

I hop down, my boots hitting the pavement with a soft thud. Reaching into the holster secured around my right thigh, I retrieve my blade, palming it as I creep forward, using the few parked cars as cover.

“Tell us how he found them.”

“I don’t know. I swear it.”

“You expect me to believe it was pure coincidence that he took out the Gale clan only hours before a hunter found her way into the tunnels and took out one of our own?”

I stiffen at the mention of me. After all, who the hell else could he be talking about?

“I swear it,” the man cries. “They told me to grab him, so I did.”

“And you didn’t think it was interesting that you—a pathetic noob—was able to capture and arrest one of our oldest?”

“I just—”

“You just thought that he would lie down and take it because, what, you were so terrifying?” A third man laughs.

“I had a blade pressed to his back.”

The man scoffs. “He would not have been so easily taken in unless he chose to be. You should have been more wary of his cooperation and called it in. Now, because of your insolence, the Council has to get out of town, and we won’t get the extra territory we requested.”

Another thump.

A groan.

“Dumb fucknugget,” the man who’s done all the talking so far curses.

“What should we do with him?” the third one asks.

“I’d love to weigh in on that,” I say as I straighten.

Just beyond the line of shadows, three sets of crimson eyes turn to me. “Hunter bitch.” A larger vampire, bald, wearing a black leather jacket and saggy dark jeans, bares his fangs.

“I’m assuming you mean me,” I say sarcastically as I glance behind me.

“You’re so foolish to come here,” another man—this one with a massive face tattoo—says.

“Possibly, but I’d say I’m in the right place at the right time, wouldn’t you?” I step toward them, careful to maintain my stance even as I attempt to appear casual.

Last time I was outnumbered—granted it was five not three—it didn’t go so well, and I somehow doubt Jack will be nearby to save me this time. I may have been lucky once—but twice? No way in hell.

Supernatural energy builds in my veins, giving me an extra boost of adrenaline as I prepare for a fight. The edges of my vision blur as I recall the memory of Ramirez’s CI’s broken body lying on that bed.

Of the man on the counter.

The vampire on the ground snivels and I get a good look at a young—maybe early twenties—supernatural with a bloodied and bruised face. His left arm is sitting at an awkward angle, and I shake my head.

“Picking on the weaker ones, seems fitting for a pathetic douchebag like yourself.”

Face tattoo growls and lunges for me, but leather jacket puts a hand on his arm to hold him back.

“Be a good little vampire and listen to your boss.” I wink at him. “Tell me, were you the jackasses who provided the Gale clan with food?”

“What’s it to you?” Leather jacket folds his arms over his broad chest.

“I thought that was obvious. I’m a hunter; you’re a virus that needs to be purged from this world. I just want to make sure you’re the particular strain I’m looking for.”

He grins. “It’s possible. Hard to remember though.”

“Petite blonde, about my height. She’d been high.”

Face tattoo throws his head back and laughs. “I bet she’s talking about Ollie.”

I stiffen. “So you did know her.”

“Hell yeah we did, bitch was obsessed with us. Thought we could be the solution to her problem. She practically threw herself at us in exchange for some of her blood.”

“You promised to turn her,” I say, reading between the lines, my body vibrating with anger.

“We did.”

“But it would have been a waste,” leather jacket says with a grin. “A waste of a good high.”

“You kept her high so you could keep feeding off her.”

“We did.” He grins at me, showing off two gold front teeth. “And she was fucking delicious until she started getting whiny. Then, we traded her to the Gale’s for another human.”

I’ve always known the bloodsuckers trade humans like stock. They prey on the desperate, the ones who believe they’re already damned, and most of the victims don’t realize they’ll never get what’s promised to them.

I hate bullies—and vampires are among the worst.

“You’re going to die for what you did to her,” I growl and lunge. Face tattoo is the first to come for me. He reaches for me as I get close enough, but I drop to my knees and sweep my leg out, knocking his ass to the pavement.

Leather jacket is next. I jump to my feet just in time to block a blow that was aimed at the side of my face. Pain radiates up my forearm from the contact, but I don’t waste any time as I drive my blade into his gut and turn, the silver shredding his flesh.

Ripping my blade out, I spin and kick my foot out, slamming it into his chest and sending him flying backward.

The sniveling asshole on the ground attempts to come for me, but I dispatch him easily enough. One swipe of my blade to his throat, and he falls to the ground.

Someone grips my wig—a lavender one this time—and attempts to pull it off my head, but this time it stays in place.

Thank you, shit ton of bobby pins I used before leaving my apartment.

I spin out of his grasp, feeling the wig pulling painfully at my hairline. I kick him in the gut and he grunts, stumbling backward. Turning to face him, I drop my shoulder and slam into him, knocking us both to the ground beside leather jacket’s lifeless body.

I land on top of him and press my blade against his throat. “Who were you talking about?”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“The man, the one your buddy said killed the Gale clan.”

He sneers. “Like I’d fucking tell you anything.”

A door shuts.

A car roars to life.

Shit.

“Time’s up.” I bury the silver blade into his chest and turn, making the final kill and watching as the life leaves his eyes.

The car moves past us, its headlights never once shining on the dead just beyond the shadows.

Getting to my feet, I survey the damage as the first drop of rain falls down from the sky. For a brief moment, I drop my head to look down at the ground as the water splashes on the back of my neck, just beneath the line of my wig.

Then, with a sigh, I reach down and grab face tattoo’s legs before dragging him the short distance to the woods just beyond the asphalt line and returning for the other two bodies.

At least the rain will take care of the blood.

12

Elijah

Rainey slips into the shadows just beyond the tree line. She’s finished dragging the bodies, but the copper tang of blood still clings to the air even as the storm rages around us. Rain hammers down onto me as I stand, but I don’t care for the destruction of my suit.

Seeing her fight again—

Watching her seek retribution for the dead human woman back at the Gale house—

It was too fucking much. She’s amazing—this warrior. Even as pissed as I am that she keeps running headfirst into dangerous situations, I have to remind myself that she’s a hunter.

This is her legacy—her purpose—just as it was Delaney’s.

But the thought of her facing the same fate—I shiver although it’s not cold. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my cell phone and press it to my wet ear.

“What is it?” the familiar voice grumbles in my ear. Music pumps in the background, the heavy thud of bass letting me know my friend was more than likely out feeding.

“I’ve got a cleanup for you,” I say as I move closer to the tree line where Rainey is dragging the bodies beneath some brush. Probably so she can take care of them later.

“Where?”

“The twenty-four-hour diner on the edge of town,” I tell him, knowing that he’ll realize exactly where I’m talking about. There aren’t many diners supernatruals frequent.

A woman groans and he curses. “You have the worst timing. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Make it forty-five,” I add as I watch Rainey work to conceal the bodies. The last thing I need right now is for Tarnley and his team to show up while she’s still on scene.

Talk about asking for fucking trouble.

She straightens, the lavender wig and enhanced nose shielding her true identity from anyone who might stumble upon her, but it can’t hide her from me. No, her scent has been embedded in my memory from the first moment I saw her.

The night I nearly ran right into her while I was out with Delaney.

“Don’t be a pain in the ass, Elijah,” Delaney scolds as she shakes her head.

I grin. “I don’t know how to be anything else, deirfiúr.”

She smiles, the dimples on either side of her mouth on full display at my words. “Sister, huh? Glad you see me that way since you are definitely the brother I never wanted but got stuck with anyway.”

I laugh.

We round the corner, and Delaney stops in her tracks, placing a hand up to stop me as well.

Immediately on the defense, I search for the source of whatever threat she’s sensing. “What is it?”

She presses against my chest, her purple nail polish a direct contrast with my midnight shirt, as she shoves me back into an alley and peers around the corner. I follow her lead, and glance out as a woman makes her way down the street, laughing wildly beside a brunette.

I can’t tear my eyes away from the one laughing. Her eyes so full of life. Dark freckles cover her cheeks and nose, and her hair moves wildly around her face with the force of her amusement at whatever her friend said.

But it’s more than that—and for a brief moment—when she stills at the crosswalk just ahead, her eyes searching the darkness where Delaney and I hide, I wonder if she sees me. My body stiffens, my blood hammering as I catch her scent with the soft breeze floating in our direction.

The scent of a hunter just like the woman in front of me. “Who the hell is that?” I ask.

“My sister,” she says sadly. “Rainey.”

“Your sister? I didn’t know you had a sibling.” My face screws up at the thought of another Astor. “Why is she not out here with you? Hunting?”

“She wants a normal life,” she whispers softly as Rainey and her friend turn the corner and head down another street altogether.

Seeing them—seeing her—disappear from sight tugs at me, sending my stomach twisting into knots I can’t quite understand.

“Hunters are not gifted with normal lives.” I nearly choke on the words, realizing just how true they are for all of us born supernaturals. Normalcy is a fairy tale for us—a fallacy.

Delaney steps back out and smiles up at me. “I know that, but with what’s headed her way—I’m going to give her as much of one as possible.”

I never knew what she meant by those words. But the finality in them, as I realize just how foreboding they had been, is not lost on me.

Less than a year later, Delaney was dead, and Rainey let loose on the supernatural world with the force of a hurricane.

Word of her traveled to me even as I hid out in Europe, putting all of my energy into seeking something I never actually thought I’d find—and still haven’t—in my desperate attempt to shield myself from my grief. My guilt. I should have been here when Delaney died, and instead, I was out of the country, in my own selfish attempt to find what I thought would make me happy.

Delaney was the second closest friend I’d ever had—and I let her the fuck down. That’s just not something I can ever forgive myself for.

But at least now, I can try and protect Rainey—shielding her from the same fate as her sister. And even as it drives me insane to be this near to her and unable to act on the deep-rooted desire hammering through my body, I’ll endure the torment if only to fulfill my promise to a hunter who was my sister in everything but blood.

13

Rainey

“Easy, Rainey. You have to swing with a fluid movement. Like this.” Delaney holds out her hand, and I place the hilt of my blade in her palm.

She swings the short sword like the badass she is, and I watch, completely awestruck by her skills. “How do I get that good?” I ask. It’s only been four months since our parent’s died, but since then, Delaney has been training me.

She’s told me things I never would have believed before, and honestly, had I not seen it myself the night we buried our parents, when they broke into our house, I probably would have thought she’d lost it. Sure, I knew I was different—my mother told me that much.

But no one bothered to explain why.

Delaney smiles, the dimple next to her mouth on full display. I’ve always been jealous of my sister. She’s older than me and beautiful. Unlike my brown, her hair is a soft blonde—nearly white. She doesn’t have heavy freckles on her face, and she’s taller than me—by a lot. And here I am, stuck in an awkward stage of not quite a teenager and not a little girl anymore.

Still, she’s my best friend, and I don’t know what I’d do without her.

“You have to practice, Rainey. One day, it may be you doing the hunting, and I need you to be ready.”

“You’ll always be with me though, right?” I take the sword from her, staring down at the blade as it glints in the sunshine streaming in through the window of our apartment.

When I look back at her, she looks sad, her mouth no longer turned up in a smile. “I promise that I’ll never leave you if I can help it. Now, let’s train.”

She lifts another blade and holds it out to me. I take the stance she showed me last week and hold the weapon out.

“Let’s do this.” I lunge for her, swinging my blade, but she blocks it easily, not even breaking a sweat as she spins, knocking my feet out from beneath me. I fall, thumping against the ground. “I’m never going to be as good as you.”

Delaney kneels in front of me. “Listen carefully, and take my words with absolute honesty. You are more than I will ever be.”

I open my mouth to argue, but she shakes her head.

“You are going to be the future, Rainey Astor.”

* * *

There isn’t coffee in the world that’s strong enough to help me this morning. I’m pretty damned sure I died at some point in the night and this is my reanimation.

Not really, of course, but it sure as shit feels like it. I stand on my balcony, rocking a large T-shirt as I sip my caffeine and stare down at the street below. It’s still dark as I wait for the sunrise, and I savor the most peaceful part of my day.

Right now, I get to at least pretend my life is normal. That I didn’t spend last night killing vampires in a parking lot or pouring over information to try to gain some insight into who the hell would have put a hit out on me. And not just that, but they’ve also gone through the trouble of setting me up.

Someone had to have known I was going to the club—which is impossible, of course, since I didn’t tell a single person I’d planned to. Unless they saw me going in and put together some crazy-ass master plan in a matter of a couple of hours?

Either way, they used Darrell Smith to lure me. There’s no way he could have forked up the hundred bucks to get into the club in the first place, which probably means they planted him there as bait. Then turned him, knowing my day job would take me to his place.

How did they know the woman would die? Of course. Maybe he was their backup plan? If it looked like I was going to walk away, ripping her throat out would ensure we’d pay extra close attention to her.

And if that’s the case, she used his blood to lure me to the alley, and he was used again to put me in the field yesterday. Taking a seat on my patio chair, I grab the bag of Skittles I brought out with me. They’re the same ones that were left on my bike by whoever pulled me from the tunnels.

I tear the bag open and pull out a handful as I ponder the list of people who’d have the resources to pull a hit like that off. It’s an easy thing to do since the list literally contains zero names.

The club hunt, vampire nest, near-death by silver bullet—one big-ass hot mess after another. And that doesn’t even take into consideration the Gale nest that was wiped out by another supernatural. No fucking way a human did that.

Based on the way the heads were ripped off, it was either vampire or shifter. But why? What’s the motive of the man those two vamps were willing to beat another over?

Shit, I wish Delaney were here.

There’s not a day that goes by when I don’t miss my sister. But when I’ve got this much going on, it definitely makes it a hell of a lot harder to be without her. She always knew what to do. Then again, if Delaney was here, she would have kicked my ass from here ’til Sunday for walking into those tunnels yesterday. I smile softly and take a drink of my coffee.

I miss my sister.

I miss my parents who were the first of my immediate family to depart from this world.

Hell, I even miss the grandmother who never seemed to want anything to do with me.

I’m the last one, the final Astor walking. After I go, there will be no one left to carry on our line. No fucking pressure.

Just as I’m about to get up and head inside to start getting ready for the day, a shiver of discomfort runs through me, and I narrow my gaze to the alley directly across from my apartment. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I try to focus on the blurred shape I swear is staring up at me. The shape is similar in size to the one I saw at the hospital, and the same shiver of awareness runs up my spine.

Not quite unease, but not comfortable either.

Since I don’t want to spook whoever it is, I slowly turn into my apartment, setting my mug and Skittles down before I slip on some jeans and grab my blade, racing out the door. My bare feet pad on the soft carpet of the hall as I move as quickly as I can without making extra noise.

I hate the elevator so opt for the stairs instead even though it’ll add a few minutes to my trek downstairs.

By the time I get down to the front of the building, I can’t see the shape anymore. Running across the street, I head into the alleyway, but whoever was watching me is long gone. Adrenaline pumps through me. This is the second time I’ve seen the blur and the first time I had actual confirmation that I wasn’t just imagining it. No way I would have imagined the same blur twice…right?

What if the person following me is the same one who pulled me out of the tunnel yesterday? The same person who brought my bike back?

Flipping the blade so it’s pressed against my forearm and hidden from sight, I turn my back on the alley and head for my apartment. I’m just about to step into the sun when three black crows fly down, landing in front of me on the asphalt. Their beady eyes study me with such ferocity—especially for fucking birds—that a shiver of unease runs down my spine.

“What the hell is with you guys?” I demand. The distraction is just enough that I don’t hear the shuffling behind me until hands rip me back into the darkness.

I spin, slicing out with my blade and catching the flesh of someone’s arm. They growl and slam their fist into my gut.

My lungs burn as I gasp for air while they drag me further and further into the alley. “I thought you were some badass hunter.”

It’s nearly dark in the alley, which is why these fuckers aren’t bursting into ash at the moment. But if they get me much farther from the exit, I’m done for.

“I hate that I’m disappointed.”

I throw an elbow, ramming it back into the vampire holding my hair. He grunts and releases me, so I spin and kick out with my left foot, sending him flying back into the bricks. Palming my dagger, I duck a fist from the other vampire and stab him in the gut, burying my blade to the hilt.

I rip it out, and he stumbles back. As I go in for the kill, hands grab my hair again, yanking me back and slamming me face-first into the wall. Pain echoes through my head, my ears ringing from the contact.

“Stupid bitch,” he spits, the wet spraying over my face.

Fist to the ribs. Crack.

I fight against the hold, desperate to get free, but he rips me back again, slamming me to the ground as his buddy kicks me in the gut. I try to roll away, to lash out with my blade, but he stomps on my wrist, making the bones shatter, and my dagger slips free.

“You killed our councilwoman. Did you not think you would pay for that?”

Councilwoman? I thrust my hips up, trying to toss the vampire straddling me away. One fist tightens around my throat, and he slams his other fist down into my nose. Pain explodes in my head again, and I reach up with both hands, slipping them in between his arms and folding my elbows around his arms, breaking his hold.

Rolling to the side, I stumble to my feet and try to get onto the street. If I can get to the sun, they can’t follow me. Someone grabs my ankle and yanks me back, and the concrete rips into the skin of my stomach as my shirt climbs up on my body.

When the exit is nothing more than a pinprick of sunlight, they drop me, and I roll over to my back, bringing both arms up to shield my face. My vision begins to waver, a tingling sensation that precedes one of the unexplainable blackouts I’ve been suffering from since my sister died spreads up the back of my neck, but before it fully takes over, someone grips my throat and slams my head back down into the ground. I hear my skull crack, feel the warmth of my blood sticking to the back of my head.

They kick, punch, and I try to fight back against whoever’s pinning me to the ground. I don’t even know how many are here with me, only that for the first time in two years, I don’t actually think I’m walking away from this one. The pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt—my body burning as if it’s on fire. Every muscle quivers; every bone aches.

A man roars, an animalistic sound that sends chills up my spine. Part of me recognizes him—which should be impossible since I can’t see a fucking thing with my eyes as swollen as they are. But it’s there—a sense of knowing, of hope that surges through me even as I fight to remain conscious.

Suddenly, the assault ceases. My eyes are so swollen I can’t see anything, the blood hammering in my ears making it impossible to hear anything more than the sounds of a fight. Grunts, thumps, and someone curses. Did Jack find me? A stranger? They won’t stand a chance!

“They’re not Hum—” I try to warn, my voice breaking with a burning cough.

“Fuck, Rainey,” a man’s voice, thick with an accent, is loud right beside my ear, and I feel hands slide beneath me. I struggle to get free, rolling, but with each movement comes complete and utter agony. Not Jack.

“I’m not going to kill you. Stop the damned thrashing.”

We start to move. I hear wind whirring past me as whoever carries me runs. The jostling brings a whole new level of pain, and I cringe as whoever is carrying me jumps. I feel us move upward, leaving my stomach on the ground, and I swallow hard to avoid puking when it catches up.

He sets me down on something soft. “Where’s your kit?”

“What?” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. It’s deeper, raspy, alien to me.

“Dammit, Hunter, where is your kit?” He slaps me, the sting pulling me back to the present.

“In the safe,” I choke out.

“What’s the code?” he demands.

“I—” I trail off, pain pulling me down into darkness.

“Stay with me.” Another slap. “What’s the code, Rainey?”

“Three-three-two-zero.”

No response, and I take a pained breath as everything around me begins to fade away, taking the pain with it.

14

Elijah

Racing into Rainey’s closet, I punch in the code on the pad of her grey Winchester safe. The green light illuminates on the keypad, so I fling it open and grab the bright red kit on the top shelf. I don’t bother to close it; there’s not enough time.

She’s pale when I reach her again, her skin having lost near all color. At least, the skin I can see. For the most part, she’s covered in her own fucking blood, and it’s tormenting me, the allure of it. My adrenaline and fear that she might die are the only things helping me maintain control over the bloodlust threatening to drag me down. “Rainey?”

No answer.

“Rainey?” I lightly slap her cheek, trying to bring her back, but she doesn’t budge. “Fuck!” Unzipping the kit, I grab one of the syringes filled with adrenaline. The hunters keep them if they need an extra dose to heal.

I just hope I’m not too late. I pull the cap off and hold the syringe up, driving it down into her chest right over her heart.

After plunging the liquid into her body, I rip it back out and toss it to the side then sit back and wait. “Come on, Rainey.”

They nearly killed her. In a fucking alley. What the hell was she doing down there? Why the hell would she go down barefoot? Had they grabbed her from her apartment when it was still dark? The balcony door was open, so it’s possible—isn’t it? And if they hadn’t, how did the asshole get into the alley without burning the hell up? Unless they were there all night…the thought has me growling. If they were, that means they were lurking there in the shadows, waiting for me to leave.

I never should have left. I’d been here nearly all night, keeping an eye on the damned place to make sure they wouldn’t look for retaliation now that she’s taken out one of their leaders.

But after seeing her awake, legs bare in the moonlight as she stared down at the world from the balcony, I’d had to walk away. Because if I didn’t, I might have stepped out so she could see me.

Swallowing hard, I get to my feet and head into the kitchen to grab a wet napkin to start wiping the blood from her face. Just as I’m walking around the bar, she sucks in a breath. I spin and rush forward as she begins to spasm.

I drop to my knees and put both hands on her to keep her from falling off the couch as the adrenaline surges through her, activating her body’s healing capabilities. Her body arches up of the couch as her face turns beet red. I hold my breath, waiting for it to stop.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she stills, slumping back down onto the couch. I release her and drop my head, taking deep breaths to try to calm myself.

I’ve only ever had to deliver an adrenaline shot to a hunter one other time. And that was Delaney, after she’d been jumped at an abandoned house three years ago. I’d needed her help, much like I need Rainey’s now, so her death was not something I could allow. That night was how I met her, and afterward, I decided that the rumors I’d heard about hunters my entire life were wrong.

Needless to say, there’s a lot of blood on my hands that I really wish I could fucking wash off.

After heading into the kitchen and getting a wet napkin, I return to Rainey and begin wiping the blood from her face. Her hunter blood is already at work healing her body. I can see that much based on the bruising steadily fading away from her face. I inhale deeply, the copper tang filling my lungs and enticing me in a way I’ve never fucking experienced before.

I push away from her, dropping the napkin and racing to the kitchen to put at least some distance between us. My hands grip the countertop, knuckles turning white as I fight to gain control over myself now that the initial threat is gone.

She’ll live. The ones who attacked her are dead. And her blood is the most delicious fucking thing I’ve ever smelled. I can see the top of her head, the hair matted with crimson, and I bring myself back from the brink by reminding myself she nearly died.

That’s what I need to focus on. Her blood? I can’t have it. Never.

Her phone buzzes on the counter beside me, and I check it. Probably better if no one heads here to check in on her.

J: What time do you want to head over?

Pursing my lips, I consider my response—or rather Rainey’s response—before replying. Deciding to stick with a generic answer, I go with the never-failing, I’ll let you know. Busy right now.

She coughs, and I drop her phone as I cross the room to her. Blood drips from the side of her mouth and I look away, breathing deeply. Never, in my over four centuries, have I wanted someone’s blood so fucking badly.

Never. And it’s shit timing that it’s happening now. With her. Even before, watching her in the alley, ripping her from the tunnels. I’m not sure if she was bleeding in the alley, but she was in the tunnel. I remember it.

But it hadn’t affected me then like it’s doing now. A drug calling to an addict.

With one last deep breath, I slip both arms beneath her and cradle her against my body as I carry her into her room. Her clothes are shredded, dirty, but I’m not about to undress an unconscious hunter.

No damn way I’d survive that once she wakes.

Instead, I lay her on her mattress and cover her with her sheet before returning to the bathroom and retrieving a towel. Quickly, I run it beneath the faucet, getting it damp before taking a seat beside her and wiping away the rest of the blood on her face. Maybe if it’s not on her, it won’t be as alluring.

With each stroke of the towel, I reveal more dark freckles on her olive skin, so I focus on that, on the beauty beneath the blood as my way of staying rooted.

She and Delaney couldn’t have been more opposite, even considering the age difference. Delaney’s skin was fairer than Rainey’s, her features softer. Rainey’s are more refined. Sharp jaw, slightly angled nose, she’s stunning.

And as I stare down at her, I can’t help but focus on her plump lips, the way she breathes steadily, turning into my touch. There’s a force within her that pulls at me as though my brain recognizes something about her that I don’t readily see.

All I know is that I can’t let her die.

The scent of her blood still hangs in the air, but it’s manageable now. I stare down at her, a part of me I thought long dead surging to the surface.

“Rainey Astor,” I whisper. “What am I to do with you?”

15

Rainey

Heavy knuckles beat against my door, pulling me out of sleep. Exhaustion weighs on me nearly as heavy as my aching muscles. I attempt to sit up, feeling my abdomen scream in response to the movement.

“Easy,” a masculine voice urges, having the exact opposite effect on me.

I roll over and grab the spare silver blade I keep beneath my pillow, palming it as I get completely off the bed and to my feet. My muscles scream in agony, my brain unable to process the pain, and I crumple to the floor, gasping for breath.

A shadow moves across my dark room, kneeling and lifting me. “I’m not going to hurt you, Rainey.”

Thick Irish accent. My brain searches for where I know that voice from—it’s not difficult to zero in on it. Not every day you come across an Irishman in Billings, Montana. Especially one who always seems to be lurking around when you need help. “You.”

He pulls me to my feet, and I step back before leaning over and flipping on my bedside lamp. Light pours into my room, and I gape at the man before me. At least a foot taller than me, he dwarfs my small bedroom with his incredible size. He’s all muscle, and a button-down shirt is stretched across his broad chest. Slacks hang low on his trim waist. Hair falls to his shoulders in dark brown waves, and ice-blue eyes pin me with concern. Strength and power radiate off him, washing over me in a delicious combination that shouldn’t have made my blood heat, given my current condition. But fuck me if I wasn’t turned on by it—by him. Even more attracted than I’d been the first time I saw him at the club.

“I’m sure you recognize me,” he says. “And I promise to answer all your inquiries, but at the moment, there’s a man beating on your door, and I’m not sure you want him to find you unconscious. Shall I answer it?”

“Dammit, Astor! It’s Ramirez! Are you home?”

I close my eyes, reaching down for my senses as I focus on the man’s heartbeat. It’s strong, slow, and steady. A human heart. Just like I heard that first night. Maybe he’s like me? “I’ll get it.” I slip the blade back beneath my pillow and stumble to my bathroom to check the state of my face.

Thankfully, the bruising is completely gone despite the fact I still feel like I was run over by a fucking semi. Or hit by a train. At this point, I bet those would feel better. My hair is matted with blood, but after tossing it into a bun, I can barely tell.

My shirt is covered in blood though, so I lean out and yell, “Be right there!” Before I grip the hem of my shirt and try to lift it over my head. The pain is sharp, instant, and I hiss through clenched teeth.

“You okay?”

Not too prideful to know when I can’t do something alone, I take a deep breath and call out, “I need he—”

He’s there before I even finish the sentence. “What do you need?”

“You to close your eyes and help me change.”

The man nods and shuts his eyes. He reaches down and grips the hem of my shirt, his fingertips brushing my bare skin. I shiver at the contact, and he continues pulling it up before tossing it to the floor, his hands falling to the sides of his body.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.” He turns away, and I follow, covering my breasts with an arm as I limp to my closet and grab a black T-shirt long enough to cover my legs. Then, I walk to my bed and sit down on the edge.

“Can you help me again?”

He kneels before me, and I lie back as he slowly peels my blood-crusted jeans away. “You may want to put on pants.”

After he helps me sit, I cringe. My legs are still covered in dried blood. “Shit.”

“Here.” He retrieves a pair of sweats from my floor and helps me into them then wraps an arm around my waist and guides me to the door. As soon as I’m standing in front of it, I glance over my shoulder and watch him disappear into my bedroom.

With a deep breath, I open the door and stare at the terrified face of my partner.

“Shit, Rainey. It’s about damned time. I’ve been out here for fifteen minutes.”

“Sorry. I had to get dressed.”

He pushes past me and into my apartment before putting both hands on his hips and staring at me. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “I think I caught something.”

“Caught something? It’s been two days, Rainey. I tried calling, and you sent me one text saying you were busy. Then another telling me you would be in when you got a chance. I had to call Jane just to make sure you were alive. Thankfully, she said she’d seen you and you were being taken care of.”

“I was busy puking,” I reply. “And then the rest is just kind of a blur.” Two days? I was out for two days! Jane was here?

His face softens. “You should have told me. Kamie and I could have brought you something. I can’t tell you how many times I came by to make sure your bike was still here. If you didn’t answer today, I was calling it in and breaking down the damned door.”

Ramirez’s eyes focus beyond me moments before a man speaks. “There you are, Rainey. Oh, hi.” I turn, focusing on the stranger who’s stepped from my bedroom, shirt now unbuttoned and hanging loose. My mouth goes dry at the sight of the bared skin of his chest showing between the two sides of his shirt. Ridged muscle makes way for more ridged muscles, and black ink climbs up his entire torso, starting at his waistband and ending at his collarbone, before disappearing beneath the fabric of the shirt on either side of his body. Fucking-A.

“Who are you?” Ramirez asks, looking from him to me.

“Elijah Hawthorne.” He holds out a hand and shakes Ramirez’s as I shut the door and lean back against it. “Rainey and I are seeing each other.”

Ramirez glances over at me, the mistrust apparent in his eyes. “I didn’t know that. Rainey hasn’t mentioned that she’s seeing anyone.”

“We’re still pretty new,” Elijah—if that is his name—says as he wraps an arm around my shoulders. It feels a hell of a lot better than it should.

“Feels like it started yesterday,” I add with a pointed look up at my new boyfriend.

Ramirez studies me before finally letting out a breath.

“I don’t know if I ate something or caught something, but I swear I didn’t mean to sleep for two days. Have I missed anything?”

He shakes his head and runs a hand along his jaw. “Not particularly. Those people were released from the hospital yesterday, but it seems we’ve hit a dead end with them since they still won’t tell us what happened.” He casts a curious glance at Elijah.

“I’ll leave you two to it. Need to grab a shower anyway.” He disappears into my bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him, and I hate that there’s a brief moment while I ponder exactly what he might look like naked.

I can’t help it. He’s a damn sexy man. Something I can appreciate even if I know nothing about him. I reach for the counter and nearly fall, but Ramirez is there, catching me and leading me to a barstool.

“You look like hell,” Ramirez comments as he sits beside me.

“And I feel it too.” I reach across my counter and grab a bottle of ibuprofen, toss four pills into my mouth, and swallow.

“Want some water with those?”

“Didn’t want to use the effort.”

“You could have asked.” Ramirez gets up and heads to my fridge, pulling open the door. Then, he retrieves a bottle of water and hands it to me.

I open it and drink the cool liquid down greedily as though I’m dying of thirst. Shit, if it’s been two days, I might be.

“Don’t eat Sushi from the gas-n-go,” I tell him, and he chuckles.

“Shit, I could have told you that one. How much longer do you think you need?”

“Hopefully just a day or two. Think you can cover?”

“Yeah, no problem.” He glances curiously at my hair. “You may want to shower. Looks like you’ve got something in your hair.”

“Tell me about it,” I reply dryly.

“I mean, at least the guy’s still here. He could have run for the hills the second you started puking.”

I force a smile. “That’s true. Do we have anything new on the club case?”

“Nope. And the SUV that shot us up at Smith’s? No damned clue where that came from either. My guess is we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Darrell Smith must have been into some bad shit.”

“Certainly seems that way,” I agree.

Ramirez gets to his feet and walks toward my door. “Now that I know you’re alive, I’ll leave you alone. Check in tomorrow.”

“Will do.”

He opens the door but turns to face me before stepping through it. “I’m glad you have someone here with you,” he adds softly as he glances at the framed picture of Delaney and me by the door. “I know you have Jane and that you two are close, but it’s been a long time since you weren’t alone.”

I don’t reply, mainly because my throat tightens with the urge to cry, which in turn only pisses me the hell off. I’ve never been a crier, and I have no intention of starting now.

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks for checking on me.”

“Anytime, kid.” The door shuts softly behind him, and I reach for my cell charging on the counter. Forty missed calls from Ramirez, Jane, and Jack. Shit. I tap Jack’s contact and put the phone up to my ear.

“Hey, Rainey, ’bout damn time.”

Since he won’t buy the whole ‘ate something weird’ excuse given that as hunters, we don’t get sick, I go a different route. “I’ve had a lot going on with work.”

“Okay,” he replies, but his tone sounds unconvinced.

My shower turns off, and I glance over at my closed bedroom door. “I need to go. Just wanted to let you know I was fine. Call you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. But, Rainey?”

“Yeah?”

“Disappear like that again and I’ll risk you killing me for violating the ‘don’t show up before calling’ rule. A few texts here and there won’t stop me next time.”

“Understood. But you should know that I will hold up my end of that and put you down.”

“Fair enough.”

Ending the call, I tap on Jane’s contact information and prepare myself for a tongue lashing. “Rainey Astor, you bitch!”

“I’m sorry,” I plead. “I ate something weird.”

“What? Oh! That’s what you think this is about?”

“What else would it be about?”

“I don’t know, the sexy-ass man staying at your apartment yesterday when I went to check on you.”

Balls. Ramirez did say she came here. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You met Elijah, then?”

“Yes! I made him let me in to check on you when he said you were sleeping. I had to make sure he wasn’t a psycho, you know?”

“Let me get this straight. You came into my apartment—alone—when a stranger opened my door?” I shake my head despite her not being able to see me. “You’re going to get yourself killed, Jane.”

“I had my pepper spray.”

I laugh, my sides aching with the jostling. “Can’t say you weren’t prepared then, can I?”

“No, you can’t,” she confirms. “So, you okay to give me the details now that you’ve spent two days in bed with one of the sexiest men I’ve ever seen?”

“Not yet, but I’ll come to the café tomorrow? Or maybe the next day. Not sure how long it’ll take before I feel like myself again.”

“You better or I’m coming to you. Even if it means interrupting your sexy naked time.”

“I promise.”

“Love your beautiful whore face,” she says before hanging up.

With a grimace, I push to my feet, holding onto the wall as I make my way to my bedroom. Cautiously, I shove open the door just in time to see Elijah walk out, towel around his waist, his chest slick with water.

My mouth goes dry once again as I drink him in. Even in my pained state, I can appreciate the man before me. I swear even his muscles have muscles. It’s ridiculous. His hair is wet and slicked back from his face, his eyes leveled on me as though he’s just as surprised at my reaction as I am.

Or maybe he’s having the same feeling. His eyes darken, his breathing growing more ragged by the second, the sounds making it seem as though he’s fighting for each individual breath. Forcing my eyes away from his, I take in the rest of his body.

The black ink I only got a peek of earlier is on full display, starting at his collarbone and spanning his entire torso and both muscular arms. The shapes and swirls each able to stand on their own and yet coming together to form one delicate design.

The blood hammers in my ears as I refocus on his face. Something about him—he pulls to me, a moth to a flame, and I want to run my hands over every inch of his hard body. Want to bury my face in his thick hair, feel his hands on my body as—he turns away from me, reducing the effects of whatever the hell is going on with me.

But with his back turned, I get an eyeful of all the lines tattooed on his body as they come together to form a massive tree.

“Your friend gone?” he asks as he grabs his slacks and tugs them on before dropping his towel. I should turn away, but I can’t tear my eyes from him.

“Is your name really Elijah?” I ask as I stumble toward the bed. Out for two days and still in this much pain? They must have nearly killed me.

“It is.” He watches me the entire way, relaxing only once I’m safely on the mattress.

“And you brought me home from the alley?”

“I did.”

I shut my eyes tightly and try to remember everything from the day I was attacked. I remember being—“Did you slap me? Twice?”

“Not hard. But I needed you to stay awake long enough to tell me how to get the adrenaline out of your kit.”

“You slapped me,” I repeat.

He shrugs. “It was that or you would have had a date with the Reaper.” Elijah pulls on his shirt and rebuttons it. Then, he strolls over to the armchair in the corner of my room like he owns the place before sitting down and pulling on his shoes.

“Why were you there?”

He glances up at me, eyes darkened with whatever is affecting us both. If I hadn’t heard his heart, it would make me wonder if he were even human. “How about you go shower, and then we’ll finish our chat.” Pushing to his feet, he walks out of my room and into the bathroom before I have a chance to respond. The shower comes on, water hitting the tile floor.

If I breathe in deeply enough, I can smell the stench of my own blood and sweat, so I can’t imagine this hunter is super pleased with the smell. I reach down and try to lift my shirt, but the movement has me hissing in pain.

Two days should have been enough to heal me. It’s never taken longer than twenty-four hours, and I’ve recovered from some horrible shit.

“They nearly killed you,” Elijah confirms from the doorway. I glance up and meet his pained gaze. “If I hadn’t gotten there when I did—”

“I thought I saw something in the alley, it’s why I went down in the first place.”

“What?”

“A blurred shape? I know that sounds crazy.”

At my words, a muscle in his jaw ticks, but he doesn’t say anything. “Not crazy at all.” But he doesn’t elaborate. “Do you need help?”

Nodding, I hold his gaze as he crosses my bedroom. “Eyes closed.”

“I wouldn’t dream of peeking,” he says, his deep voice gravelly.

His fingers grip the hem of my shirt, grazing my skin as they did earlier. I shiver, lust pooling in my belly despite my pain. He holds out an arm, eyes still closed, and I grip it, my fingers digging into the hard muscle of his biceps.

I stand and reach down to remove my sweats. Thankfully, they just fall to the floor. “Okay, I’m ready,” I say. Eyes still closed, he guides me to the door with the expertise of someone who probably spent two days going through my shit and now knows my apartment as well as I do, and helps me into the shower.

“I’ll be out here if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

The door closes, and I close my eyes, tilting my head up as the hot spray washes over me. When I look back down at the tile floor, I see that it’s covered in my now diluted blood.

* * *

Showered and feeling as normal as possible again, I step out onto the cool tile floor. At some point during my steamed escape, Elijah brought in another pair of sweats and my Billings Police Department sweatshirt.

I take a seat on the toilet and manage to get my sweats on without breaking into tears. A feat to be sure because my body still feels as if it was hit by a train. The sweatshirt takes a hell of a lot more work, but I manage to get my head into it before working my arms into the sleeves, one by one.

Then, I grip the side of the wall and stand. My bed is freshly made, my old sheets piled in the corner of my bedroom. When I step all the way out of the bathroom, Elijah turns to me from his place near the window, his eyes back to a normal blue.

“You changed my sheets?”

“I hope that was all right. They were covered in blood.”

“Sure, thanks. I guess.” One hand on the wall, I clear my throat. “That was you at the club, wasn’t it?”

“It was.”

“Coincidence?”

Elijah shakes his head. “I’ve been following you, Rainey. For about five weeks now.”

“Why?” I start toward my bed, one labored step after the other.

“I knew your sister.”

I sway on my feet, catching myself with a hand on my bed as I lower myself onto the mattress. “You knew Delaney?”

“I did. We were…acquaintances.”

“My sister never mentioned you, and I’m pretty damned sure she would have.” Sexy Irishman? Delaney would have absolutely mentioned him if only to brag to me.

“Unlikely. We weren’t in a sexual relationship, if that’s what’s going through your mind at the moment. Delaney and I were—as I said—just acquaintances. I helped her on occasion, and she lent me a hand when I needed it.”

“What kind of help?”

“The kind you get from a hunter,” he replies.

“Are you the one who rescued those people from the nest?”

“I was.”

“And you sent them to me.”

He nods.

“Why?”

“Because I knew no one else would believe them. Though, I was quite disappointed you went to the tunnels alone. It was foolish.”

I cross my arms. “So, you pulled me out of there too.”

“I did. You killed a council member.”

“So I’ve heard.” I let out a breath. “I didn’t know it at the time. I just assumed she was some rich bloodsucker.”

He chuckles. “While that is a correct assumption, it’s one that could have gotten you killed.” His eyes darken again, this time with anger. “You never should have gone in alone, Rainey. It was foolish.”

“How did you follow me in without me realizing it? I would have remembered seeing you.”

“I’m fairly light on my feet,” he replies, once again evading my question. “Besides, you were pretty out of it. When I set you on the sidewalk, I’m not even sure you could see much of anything.”

“Then why leave me there?”

“You called someone to come get you. I was no longer needed.”

I scoot up onto my bed, leaning back against my headboard. “Did you bring my bike back?”

“I did.”

“How did you know about the Skittles?”

Elijah chuckles and comes to sit on the edge of the freshly made bed. “As I mentioned, I’ve been following you, Rainey. It’s pretty much the first thing I discovered about you.” He leans forward and brushes a strand of my hair off my cheek. The action is kind—tender—and it stirs up feelings I’m determined to cram the hell back down.

I swallow hard, staring into his eyes as he leans back. “So, you’re a hunter then?” Two new hunters in Billings? What the hell is going on?

His gaze darkens. “Sort of. Though, I’m not like you.”

“Not a born one?” I’ve heard of humans discovering our world and taking it upon themselves to become vigilantes. But I don’t get that vibe from him. And more than that, there’s no way in hell a Norm could have saved me in that alley. I study him, a new curiousness replacing my unease. If he and Delaney were friends, then maybe he knows who killed her. What if he had a hand in it?

“No, I wasn’t born a hunter.”

“How did you meet my sister?”

“She was attacked in an abandoned house, and I was walking by. I heard the fight and ran in.”

Lifting an eyebrow, I stare at him. “You expect me to believe you were just strolling by an abandoned house?”

Elijah chuckles. “Perhaps I was following her too.”

“Why?”

“Hunters like you attract the attention of creatures.”

Swallowing hard, I bite down on the inside of my cheek. “Were you using her as bait?”

He tilts his head to the side as he considers my words. “No. I had no way of knowing she was going to get attacked. Unlike you, she didn’t lean toward racing into a place without knowing exactly what she was going into. I didn’t believe the supernaturals in there posed her any real threat, but I was wrong.”

My throat tightens, the familiar burn of unshed tears making it hard to keep my voice steady. “Were you with her when she was killed?”

He stares at me, all amusement gone from his blue gaze as he shakes his head. “I wasn’t, but I wish I had been.” His hands clench into fists on the arms of the chair, his jaw hard. “I would have saved her.” His anger is believable, and any doubt I had that he may have been involved with her death vanishes.

I’m pretty good at reading people—one of the things that makes me a good cop. And this guy is not lying. Nodding, I look away as my throat tightens once again. This is the first time I’ve met someone I didn’t know who knew Delaney.

“Your sister was a good person and a strong hunter,” Elijah offers. “You should be proud to be of her blood.”

“I am.”

“And less reckless with your life.”

At that, I turn back to him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re the last of your line, Rainey. Because of that, and due to your lineage, you have more power than any other hunter alive.”

I snort. “Yeah, I showcased that—what, two days ago, right? As I was getting my ass kicked in an alleyway and needed you to play the hero.”

There’s no humor in his gaze. “There was no honor in that fight, those bastards jumped you and they paid a price for that mistake.”

“You killed them.”

“I did.” He smiles, and I don’t miss the lethal snake slithering beneath the surface of the aristocratic exterior. Human or not, this guy is dangerous; there’s no doubt about that.

Narrowing my gaze, I cock my head to the side. “How do you know so much about hunters?”

“I study.” Elijah stands. “Since you appear to be on the road to healing, I’ll be going. I’m in desperate need of fresh clothing.” He walks to my bedroom door.

“Elijah?”

“Yes?”

“Will you be back? I have more questions,” I add quickly so he doesn’t get the wrong idea. No matter how hot he is, my interest is purely because I want the information he may have. Or so I tell myself.

“I’m not going anywhere for long, Rainey. We still have much to discuss. I programmed my number into your phone while you were sleeping. Call if you need anything. And for the love of God, stop going into dark alleys or vampire nests alone.”

With that, he’s gone. My front door closes, so I get to my feet and use the wall to prop myself up as I carefully walk over to lock it. Still using the wall to make my movements easier, I head back to my bedroom and lie back onto my pillow.

In the last four days, I’ve been nearly killed three times. That can’t be a coincidence. The first time, I was saved by Jack—a new-to-the-area hunter. The second and third times, I was pulled to safety by Elijah—who’s also a new-to-me hunter. Though, if he knew my sister, chances are he was local before.

What the hell is going on? My eyes grow heavy, so I close them, and as my thoughts begin to blend together, the exhaustion taking over again, one thing remains.

Ice-blue eyes watching me in the dark.

16

Elijah

Tipping my glass up, I down the rest of the whiskey and push it forward. The blood bar is near empty at this time since it’s nearing noon already. There are tunnels leading here from all over the city, but some vampires still don’t like to risk any kind of exposure during the day.

I’m exhausted, hungry, and pissed the hell off. I spent the rest of last night outside Rainey’s apartment. Watching, waiting for someone else to show up and make a move on her so I could rip them apart before they got the chance.

It seems that whoever offered the Gale Clan a seat in their new future must have made other offers as well. Unless the alley attack near her apartment was not linked to the one outside the club. It’s possible that her near-death was nothing more than revenge over the Council killing.

When dawn broke, I decided it was probably safe to go home and grab a shower, some food, and a drink before heading back to watch over her until she woke up. Being close to her—it’s fucking with me on a level I’m not prepared for.

I’ve been telling myself it’s because she was covered in blood—but really, it has more to do with her and the way her scent keeps invading my senses, making my body react as though she’s mine to protect.

Vampires mate once in their lives. It’s a carnal thing—dangerous—so I refuse to let myself ponder even for a second that she could be having that kind of effect on me. But never, in all my years, have I felt this strongly for a woman.

To top it all off, she’s a hunter, a killer of vampires. Wouldn’t that be some shit if she turned out to be mine?

It’s unheard of though—our basic natures standing completely against it. So at least, the chances of that being the case are slim to none. Still, I can’t explain it. The way I feel around her—it defies all logic.

“Elijah. Didn’t expect to see you here.” Tarnley slides onto the stool beside me and lifts his hand. The bartender sets a glass full of thick, red liquid in front of him, and my stomach growls in response despite the blood bag I drank earlier. Nothing is touching my hunger ever since I inhaled Rainey’s scent.

“Not sure what you mean, brother.” We’re not blood by birth, but I turned him three-hundred-and-fifty years ago when he was only twenty-four. It was during one of my benders before I met a human woman who made me rethink it all. Basically, we’re family in every sense of the word. Since he wasn’t born to my line though, he’s not considered a Hawthorne.

No, Tarnley is just a walking reminder from one of the darkest moments of my life. Still, he’s the only vampire I can trust.

“Heard you had a run-in with the Council. Freed some of their stock.”

Stock. I hate that fucking word. “Don’t call them that. They were humans.”

“Not my words, brother.” Tarnley holds up both hands.

“There was a teenage boy in there. They had to be rescued. Besides, they served a greater purpose to me alive.”

“And what purpose might that be?” he asks.

“I needed to prove something to someone.”

“Could that someone possibly be an Astor?”

“How do you know?”

Tarnley shrugs. “You know me. I hear everything. Tell me, how is it that the Council’s young guards managed to grab one of our kind’s strongest?”

I glance over at Tarnley, who’s studying me, eyebrow raised. “I might have let them.” I shrug.

He shakes his head disapprovingly. “You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days.”

“Perhaps. At least then, this miserable existence will be over, and I can move on to whatever’s next.”

The shifter behind the bar refills my glass, and I nurse the amber liquid inside.

“That’s dark shit. Was this before or after you called me to that diner?”

“Before,” I reply honestly. “Thanks for the cleanup, by the way.”

“Anytime. What did the Council catch you on?”

“Helping Delaney Astor.”

He sighs. “I told you she was going to get you bountied.”

“You’re half-right. I wasn’t bountied, but they did threaten to remove my head.”

“So, you don’t know then?”

I turn toward him. “Don’t know what?”

“About the massive bounty on your head.”

“I wasn’t aware they actually issued one.”

“They did. Which is why I’m damned surprised to see you here.”

“Took you long enough to mention it.”

“Figured you already knew.”

Sighing, I shake my head. “I suppose this is problematic.”

He drops his head lower, leaning in toward me. “I also heard a bounty has been issued for a hunter who killed Councilwoman Victoria down in the tunnels. She was targeted, and next they knew, the cleaners were scraping body parts of half a dozen vampires off the alleyway before the humans could find them.”

I know what he’s getting at, the answer he’s looking for. Tarnley doesn’t actively hunt humans or hunters, but that doesn’t mean he cares for either. Humans he tolerates, but a hunter? He’d be just as likely to kill one if given the chance since his mate was slaughtered by one, two decades ago.

Never mind Allison had been partaking in a particularly bloody bender and the Council was after her as well. Since the final blow was dealt by a hunter, it’s them Tarnley blames. He also happens to operate the Cleaners I called in that morning for the alley.

“I happened to be in the area.”

He lowers his voice and leans in. “You have to stop this, Elijah. You’re going to get yourself killed otherwise.”

“She was outnumbered.”

“Then she deserved to die.”

My head whips around toward him before I can mentally process what he said. “She killed a councilwoman who’d been draining humans. That’s well within the rights of the Accords. Killing her for enacting justice is not.”

“The Accords are outdated, useless at this point. Most don’t even remember they exist.”

Shaking my head angrily, I take a drink. “Doesn’t make them wrong.”

Tarnley sighs and drinks from his own glass. His black hair is cropped so short I can nearly see his scalp. His light brown skin showcases his mixed heritage, and his dark suit is visual proof of the life he’s built for himself.

There have been many nights he’s pulled me away from spiraling, and I’ve done the same for him. The bloodlust—it’s always there even as we try to deny it, and sometimes, you need a solid ass-kicking to put it back into place.

“You are going to go too far one of these days, Elijah.”

“Then you probably should steer clear.”

He laughs and lifts his glass. “You know I’d never abandon you. Life would be boring as hell. Besides, you keep me in business, my friend.”

Raising my own, we clink together, and I down the rest of my whiskey. “Do you know who they’ve sent after me?”

Tarnley shakes his head. “Wish I did. I can dig around for you.”

“No, don’t risk yourself. I’m sure I’ll be seeing whoever they sent soon enough.” I get to my feet and toss some bills on the counter.

“If I have to guess, they’re going to send Wren and Greta. They’re nearly as old as you are and bloodthirsty as shit.”

“Sounds about right. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Don’t die.”

“I’ll do my best.” Since I don’t have to worry about the sun, I put on my shades and step into the darkened foyer. Per the rules, I wait for the doors behind me to fully close before walking out into the early afternoon sun.

People buzz by, completely unaware of the risk they’d be in if they stepped into the seemingly abandoned building behind me. As I walk down the street, I shove my hands into the pockets of my slacks and make my way toward the large apartment building I’ve resided in for the past ten years.

Billings has been a new kind of experience for me. It’s close enough to a forested area where I can get a fix if bags aren’t cutting it, and it’s enough of a city life I can blend in if necessary.

It’s also one of the hottest spots in the world for supernaturals. Second only to Salem, Massachusetts. Because of Billings’ proximity to Glacier National Park, it’s especially known for shifters.

After letting myself into my building, I call the elevator down and step in, watching the doors shut in front of me. The elevator makes its climb to the penthouse as I ponder everything that happened in the last few days.

Rainey nearly dying was even more terrifying than I’d thought it would be. Shit, it took me a few hours after the adrenaline shot to get my own under control. Then, sitting there and watching her sleep for two days—let’s just say I’d worried more than once that she was never going to wake up.

The world needs hunters. It needs Rainey. Something is coming, and while I have no clue what it is, the increase in activity is proof enough that there’s a shift. The soft ding pulls me from my thoughts as I step into my apartment.

I have at least a handful of hours before sunset, so I’ll be safe until then. Last I heard, Wren and Greta hadn’t quite mastered day-walking. Plopping down on my couch, I shut my eyes and try to steady my mind so I might be able to grab at least an hour or two of uninterrupted sleep before heading back to Rainey.

Rainey. I can still feel her skin beneath my fingertips as I removed her shirt. Still hear her breathing while I lowered her jeans from her body. Her arousal was so potent it had washed over me, intoxicating me just as her blood had, and I’d needed to take a cold-ass shower to curb my own reaction to her. To wash it away.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone, so I convince myself that’s why I reacted the way I did. Because there’s no world in which I could ever be with a hunter. Not because of prejudice but because it would put a larger target on her head if I was.

Inter-faction relationships are forbidden by the Accords. The very document I’d risk death to protect. Each of the Supernatural Councils are still concerned what a mixed-species child could mean.

Hence, my mother’s murder.

They’d sentenced her to death the moment I was born, and it was my father’s sacrifice that kept us both alive. Of course, her sentence was merely postponed, not waived as they’d promised him when he’d given up his seat on the Council for our lives.

So no, being with Rainey—or any hunter—would be a mistake I don’t intend on making.

But I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit the thought of her—it makes me feel something I never thought I’d experience again after Aoife was murdered. I’ve been with women since her, but it was never anything more than a way to ease some of the loneliness. Rainey is beautiful, strong, capable—that must be why I’m drawn to her. Or at least, that’s what I’m planning on telling myself until the day I can find an end to this hellish reality.

17

Rainey

“You have no idea how good this is,” I say around a mouthful of breakfast croissant. What I don’t tell her is that I’m pretty sure I haven’t eaten anything in three days since yesterday passed without incident while I slept soundly.

Jane watches me with amusement, her dark eyebrow raised. “He really wore you out, didn’t he?”

Don’t I wish that’s why I’m starved? I set my sandwich down and wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Actually, we didn’t sleep together.”

“That’s total bullshit! I saw you in bed. Your blanket was tucked all the way up to your neck, so I’m betting you weren’t even wearing clothes.”

Good save, Elijah. “I swear we just talked, and he stayed the night. I ate something weird so he took care of me.”

Jane stares down at me, a line creasing the skin between her brows. “You would tell me the truth, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course. When have I ever kept secrets from you?” Except for the fact that I’m from an ancient line of hunters and I kill monsters you would lock me up for saying were real.

“Okay, fine.” She leans down. “But seriously, Rainey, how could you not have gotten naked with him? Tall, muscled, and Irish? Oh! And his hair. It’s definitely romance material.”

“He’s definitely something to look at,” I agree. “Unfortunately for me, the world is not a romance novel.”

“Oh, but it could be.” She winks. “I went on a date last night that turned out pretty damn great.”

“Yeah? Where’d you meet him?”

“Here, actually.”

“Name?”

She narrows her eyes on me. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know you’re going to run a background check on him, and I don’t want you to.”

I gape at her, feigning shock. She knows me too damn well. “How could you think that? I’m merely inquiring as to the man who took my best friend out.”

She grins, and I swear I can see hearts in her eyes. Jane is a massive romantic. I blame all the romance novels she reads, but it’s what makes her—well—Jane. She has a huge heart and loves everyone until they prove her wrong. Which, unfortunately, happens more often than not. “Save it, I’m not giving you a name.

“Where’d he take you?”

She shakes her head. “Nope.”

“Lame.”

She winks and straightens as Minnie strolls in from the back.

“Morning, Rainey.”

“Good morning.” I look over at Jane and mouth, “She’s actually on time!”

Jane smiles and nods.

After clocking in, Minnie walks over and stands beside Jane. “I want to thank you for what you did, Rainey. Whatever you said—or maybe it was the arrest—they released Paul, and he left me a note on Jane’s doorstep, apologizing and telling me I’ll never see or hear from him again.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

Minnie smiles and turns to Jane. “I’ll go pull the muffins out of the oven.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as she’s out of earshot, I lift my sandwich again. “Glad she’s doing better.”

“Me too!” Jane whispers. “She’s been on time for the last two days. Granted, she’s been staying with me, but it’s not just that. Her mood has dramatically improved. She’s happier.”

“Good.” I finish off my sandwich and get to my feet. Pulling out my wallet, I hand her some bills and roll my shoulders. Thankfully, the pain is gone, replaced by the familiar dull ache. Based on prior injuries, that should be gone by tomorrow. Then again, nothing about this last attack was typical.

I haven’t heard anything from Elijah, but since it’s only been a day and I was unconscious for all of it, I’ve resisted the urge to call him multiple times today. I want more answers, and I’m starting to think he’s the only one who can give them to me.

My phone buzzes, so I withdraw it from my pocket and put it up to my ear. “Morning, Ramirez.”

“You coming in today?” he asks.

“On my way now, about to leave Jane’s. Want me to bring you anything?”

“One of her blueberry muffins?”

“You’ve got it. See you in a few.” I end the call and shove it back into my pocket.

“Blueberry muffin?” Jane asks with a grin, and I nod.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m walking into the precinct, fresh muffin in hand. There’s a coffee on my desk, so I set the paper bag with Jane’s logo down beside Ramirez.

“You’re the best,” he says, opening it.

“You’re the one who brings me coffee every day.”

“A muffin is a lot easier to carry on your bike than hot coffee.”

I laugh and fire up my computer. “That’s the damn truth.” Since I have Elijah’s first and last name, the first thing I’ll be doing this morning is running a thorough check on his ass. Once that’s done—regardless of what pops on him—I’ll be contacting him to ask more questions about my sister and about why he’s been following me. “I know your sister,” is not an appropriate answer.

“How are you feeling?”

“Alive again. I’m telling you it knocked me on my ass.”

“I could tell. How’s Elijah?” he asks, grinning at me.

Heat rushes to my cheeks. A totally illogical and unexpected response. “He’s fine. Went home after you left the other night.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I saw Minnie this morning,” I say, veering the subject away from a sexy Irishman who seems to always be there when I need help. I don’t believe in coincidence, and now that my brain is no longer addled with pain—or lust—I’ll be grilling him until I’m satisfied with the answers.

“How’s she doing?”

“Great. Says Paul hasn’t come around except to leave an apology letter on Jane’s doorstep. Promised Minnie he won’t be coming around anymore.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to help you cover anything up.”

I laugh. “You absolutely would help, wouldn’t you?”

He shrugs. “I’m close to retirement.” With a wink, he starts eating his muffin, and we fall into companionable silence. As my computer fires up, I glance around the room at everyone working. Everyone here—except for me—are humans. Completely unaware of the monsters lurking in the dark.

I hate that I can’t tell them. Hate that there are some who may be killed because they didn’t have the knowledge to stay alive. But I’ve been down that road before, and sometimes knowing is even more dangerous.

There are times when blissful ignorance is best.

The soft tone from my computer signifies it’s done booting up, so I log on and open up my emails. A few are follow-ups on older cases, but there’s one at the very bottom that has my heart rate increasing.

I lean in closer as if it will help me read it better.

dastor@mailerco. I swallow hard. How the hell would Delaney be sending me messages? I turn, glancing around the room one last time before checking the subject line: If you’re reading this.

With a deep breath, I double click to open it.

R,

If you’re reading this, it’s because I’m no longer around. Cheesy, I know, but it’s the truth. There are things you need to know, dangerous things I couldn’t tell you until now. Had to wait until enough time passed. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s safe now, but I’m going to try. Still, I can’t say it all at once. It’s too risky to do that.

By now, I imagine you’ve met Elijah. He’s something else, but I promise you he’s someone you can trust. He promised me he’d look out for you once I was gone. I’ll be in contact soon.

Watch your back, and keep an eye out for my next email.

D

Staring at the screen, I re-read the message over and over again until I have it fully branded to my memory. Two years. It’s been two fucking years since she died. Since then, I’ve met one person who knew her. And that person is mentioned in this first message.

That can’t be a coincidence. Quickly, I log out and get to my feet. I swear if someone is toying with me, they’re going to regret it.

Ramirez glances up at me curiously. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Need to run an errand. Be back in a bit.”

“All right.”

As soon as I get out the door, I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find Elijah’s name. The background check can wait.

He answers on the first ring. “Rainey, nice to hear from you.”

“You have some explaining to do. Where can I find you?”

“What happened?”

“I’m not talking about this over the phone. Where are you?” I demand again. No more half-ass answers.

“I’ll text you the address.”

“Make it fast.” I hang up and shove my phone into my back pocket as I make my way toward my bike.

18

Rainey

The high-rise address Elijah gave me is impressive and incredibly fitting of the way he presents himself. It’s at least fifteen stories, the shiny metal exterior glinting in the sunlight and making it nearly impossible to stare for too long.

After taking a deep breath, I head inside and hit a button to call the elevator down as Delaney’s message runs through my mind on repeat. There are things you need to know, dangerous things I couldn’t tell you until now. Granted, I’m still not entirely sure I believe my sister planted emails for me to receive after she was gone.

It seems entirely too coincidental that I’d meet a man claiming to know her the night before the first email is sent. The elevator dings, and the doors open. After stepping inside and pressing the penthouse button, I reach into my boot and pull out my small silver dagger. Elijah could have killed me multiple times over the past few days and didn’t.

But that doesn’t mean he still won’t try. As I mentioned before, hunters are possessive over territory, and it’s possible he’s waiting to kill me until he’s gotten all the info he needs from me. Just because he says he wasn’t born a hunter doesn’t mean a damned thing. The humans in this line of work are even more cutthroat because they feel like they have something to prove.

The doors slide open, and Elijah is standing on the other side, wearing grey sweats and a black T-shirt. His hair is wet and slicked back and my ovaries feel like they’re going to implode even with the anger burning through my veins. “Rainey, have to admit I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

He turns away and walks—barefoot—to the kitchen.

“You said you knew my sister.”

“I did.”

I move further into his space, and the elevator shuts behind me. It’s clean—pristinely so. I don’t know why I’m surprised. The guy appears to be loaded, so he probably has it cleaned by a professional.

There are no pictures on the walls, none propped up on the end tables near the white leather couch. “So many wonderful personal touches,” I comment dryly. He glances over at me as he pours hot water into a coffee press.

“Don’t see a reason for them since I have no family.”

Oops. “I apologize.”

“No need to. They died a long time ago.” Pressing down on the plunger, he finishes the coffee and pours it into two white ceramic mugs on the counter. “Here.”

“Cream?” I ask, taking it from him. It’s a test, and based on his lack of expression, he knows it.

“You drink it black.” He stares at me as if it’s totally normal for a stranger to know how I take my coffee.

“Okay.” I set my mug down on the counter and pull out my dagger, setting it beside me in full view of him. “How about you start answering my questions.”

“You haven’t asked any that I haven’t answered.”

“With half-ass responses.”

“Then ask away, I’ll attempt to do better.” His demeanor is different today, calculated, and nearly all of the kindness I’d sensed in him the night before last is gone.

A muscle ticks in my jaw, and I take a deep breath. “Why the hell have you been following me?”

“I told you.”

“Because you were acquainted with my sister is not an answer.” My blood begins to heat, rage and grief mixing together to form a dangerous combination. The last time I was this upset, I blacked out for three hours and woke up in the middle of a vamp nest, covered in blood. That was the night my sister died. I came close to blacking out in the alley, and I can’t help but wonder; if I had, maybe I wouldn’t have needed him to save me.

The blackouts are rare, but when I do come to after one, the scene before me is typically a violent one. Needless to say, I try everything I can to not lose control. It’s my worst nightmare—to commit something heinous that I otherwise wouldn’t. So far, it’s only ever been Supernaturals who’ve taken my wrath.

But what if the next time, innocents are caught in the crossfire? It’s just a risk I’m not willing to take if I can help it.

“I promised your sister I would look after you if anything were to happen to her.”

Narrowing my gaze, I cross both arms over my chest. “And why would you think anything was going to happen to her?”

Elijah’s bright blue eyes narrow on my face, and his mouth flattens into a tight line. “Your sister was a hunter and one who had a bounty on her head, Rainey. She knew death may be coming for her, and she wanted you to be protected.”

“I’m a born hunter. You’re not. How would you protect me?”

Straightening, Elijah chuckles darkly. “I’m a hell of a lot more than you give me credit for, Rainey. Or did you not wonder how I managed to get you out of the tunnels without you seeing me? How I managed to kill six vampires in an alley by myself?”

Eyes wide, I stare up at him. “There were no dead vamps in that alley. You could have been working with them, baiting me so I would trust you.”

Something behind his eyes flashes, a glimpse of power lurking and it confirms my concerns—there’s no fucking way this guy is completely human. So what the hell is he?

“Wrong. I ripped them apart, limb by limb, decimating the group within the span of a few heartbeats. Then, I called in Cleaners to take care of the bodies before any humans could find them.”

“Cleaners?”

“Supernatural Cleaners that will operate off the books at my request.” He puts his mug in the sink and turns back to me.

He killed six vampires, yet he’s not a natural hunter. I extend my hearing and listen for his heart. It’s normal, beating as a human’s would…the steady thump, thump, thump lulling me into a feeling of control. Until…it wasn’t.

Steadily, it increases, faster, faster, until it’s beating at the rate of a—“Vampire.” I withdraw my blade and step back, but not fast enough. Elijah is on me, spinning me so my back slams against his chest. The heat of him, the pressure, sends The Hunt surging through my veins.

With one hand, he grips the wrist holding my dagger, the other bands around my waist, pinning me to him.

“I told you, Rainey. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Fuck. You.” I stomp on his bare foot. Bones crunch beneath my boot, and he loosens his grip just enough that I can drive an elbow into his gut. Grunting, he releases me, so I spin away, slicing out with my blade. It misses—barely—but gives him the chance to knock it from my wrist. I spin and kick, my boot slamming into his chest and knocking him back into a vase.

It falls to the ground and shatters, leaving shards of ceramic littering the floor.

Elijah growls as he gets to his feet. “I’m not going to fight you.”

I reach down and grab my dagger, holding it by the hilt as I take my stance and face off with him. My vision begins to blur, and Elijah narrows his gaze on my face. I shake my head to clear it, hoping it’s enough to fend off the blackout lurking near the edge. Apparently, getting pissed off is the trigger. “You’re a vampire; that makes you my enemy.”

“No, it bloody doesn’t.”

I race toward him, jumping up and wrapping my legs around his neck. He grips my thighs and spins, slamming me against the wall. Pain radiates through my back as sheetrock dust covers us both.

Rotating my body weight, I flip forward, taking him to the floor with me and pin him, thighs straddling his throat, my blade pressed against his jugular. His hands grip my thighs and he stares up at me with barely leashed control.

“I’m not going to fight you, Rainey!” He roars it this time, each word laced with anger.

“Not any more then?” I dig the blade into his flesh, and blood wells up from his pale skin, slipping down my blade. The power, the energy, it pours from him now, and I can’t believe I missed it. “Did you kill my sister?”

“I already told you—”

“Enough with the shit answers!” I scream, tears welling up in my eyes. “Did you kill Delaney?”

He glares up at me. “No.”

The elevator dings, and I shove up, facing him but backing away. “Who is that?”

“I don’t know.” Elijah jumps to his feet and heads toward the elevator. “I didn’t let anyone up.”

The doors open.

Click. Elijah moves to the side in just enough time to avoid being impaled by an arrow. “Shit!” he roars and lunges toward me.

I dive behind the counter beside him. “Who the fuck is that?” I whisper.

“Bounty hunter. They don’t know you’re here.” He puts his finger up to his lips. “You could have knocked,” he says loudly.

“Where’s the fun in that?” a woman’s singsong voice carries in.

“Someone get here before us, Elijah? Looks like you had your ass kicked,” a man’s deep baritone adds to the conversation.

“Or maybe I’ve already kicked one person’s ass,” Elijah replies with a pointed glare at me.

I roll my eyes.

“We can hear another heartbeat,” the man says. “Could it be the hunter who came up here a few minutes ago is still alive?”

“Obviously, if you can hear my heart, jackass.”

Elijah growls and shakes his head. “I told you to shut your damned mouth.”

“And what the fuck makes you think I’ll listen to a bloodsucker like you?”

The man clicks his tongue. “Trouble in paradise, Lij? Thought you had it bad for the hunters. You ran with that Astor whore for quite a while. She is why we’re here after all.”

I growl and start to get up, but Elijah grabs my arm and yanks me back down, the warning apparent in his narrowed gaze. “They don’t always feel the same.” He releases me and gets to one knee, preparing for the coming fight.

I swallow hard and mimic his stance. There are two of them and two of us. Other than them having the element of surprise, we’re fairly well matched. Unfortunately, my service weapon won’t do anything but make noise since I don’t have any silver bullets in my magazine and these assholes are vampire bounty hunters.

Using the blade of my dagger, I peer around the counter we’re hiding behind. I tilt the blade and take stock of where the two bounty hunters are standing. Then, I nod at Elijah. He looks away without responding. I count with the fingers of my free hand, still watching.

One.

“Why don’t you two just come out? No need to make this any more difficult than it already is.”

Two.

“I’m not interested in making anything easy for you,” Elijah replies.

Three.

I launch myself over the counter and drop my shoulder, running and slamming into the woman before she has a chance to turn her crossbow on me. We hit the floor together, skidding across the hardwood. Sitting up, I straddle her and lift my blade.

She slams her hand into my wrist and hooks her leg over me, rolling us so she’s on top. I buck, throwing her off and into the marble fireplace.

Grunts are the only evidence that Elijah is fighting as well since I’m far too smart to take my attention off the bounty hunter before me. She growls, pushing to all fours as she stares at me—murder reflected in her red eyes.

She charges, and I hold steady, driving my blade up into her chin as she slams into me. She groans and collapses, pinning me to the floor with her muscled weight. I start to shove her off, but the man roars, and I glance over just in time to see Elijah bite down into his throat and tear. I’m frozen in place as blood splatters me, droplets flying all over the apartment.

Elijah wastes no time. The moment his fangs are free, he’s racing to me and ripping the woman off of me. “We need to go.”

“Have you forgotten? I’m not going anywhere with you.” Ripping my arm free, I glare at him as he steps up directly in front of me, staring me down. He’s more animal than man now, his chin and throat covered in blood, his shirt soaked with it.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Rainey. How the fuck else do I prove it to you?”

“You could start by not lying to me.”

“I’ll answer whatever you want as soon as we’re safe. There will be more.” He turns away and races into his bathroom. I stand, staring down at the two dead vampires. This tower is in my precinct, which means it’s quite probable I’ll be the one called to it anyway.

I run over to the counter where I’d stood and wipe the counter with the sleeve of my jacket. Then, I take the mug and carry it over to the elevator.

Elijah steps out a few minutes later, dressed in a suit, a black bag over his shoulder. He presses the button for the elevator, and we stand in silence until it’s back and opens. Inside, I wipe down the panel with the sleeve of my jacket, and he presses the button to take us down to the garage level.

“Security tapes?” I ask.

“None.”

“This is a high-end building. You expect me to believe there are no cameras?”

“I own it. So, yeah, I expect you to believe it.”

Before I can reply, the doors open again, and I’m stepping out into the dark garage with Elijah at my side.

19

Elijah

Well, I would say that was problematic at best. I glance over at Rainey beside me. She’s tense, rightfully so, and pissed the hell off.

That strong jaw of hers is hard, set, her mouth flattened into a tight line as she stares straight ahead. I know it’s wrong, that there must be something seriously dark about me to even think this way—but that fight before Wren and Greta showed up?

It was sexy as hell.

Never thought I’d actually enjoy having my ass handed to me by a hunter, but for a moment, the animal inside of her came to the surface, and I got a brief taste of an unfiltered, unguarded Rainey. Pure, animalistic fight. The power simmering beneath her—it’s unbelievable. I’ve heard rumors of the Astor line; it’s one of the reasons I sought out Delaney, but she didn’t have a fraction of what her younger sister possesses. Granted, I discovered the reason behind that as well.

Still, the last Astor is more powerful than I ever could have hoped, and she’ll make a hell of an ally in the coming war. If I can convince her that I’m not the enemy.

We reach my car, so I stop and grab the handle, but Rainey continues walking. “Where are you going?”

“None of your fucking business.” She doesn’t even bother to turn around.

“You can’t be serious.”

She whirls on me. “And why can’t I be serious?”

“You’re as much a target as I am.”

“And why is that, Bloodsucker?” she asks, her tone sharp as fucking nails. “Could it be because you lied to me? You lured me into a trap where I was attacked by two bounty-hunting vamps? Or perhaps because you sent me humans knowing I would go exactly where they were being held.” She closes the distance and stands directly in front of me, her face tilted up toward mine. Then, she lifts a hand and slams me in the chest with her palm.

I step back, the force of it sending me a good two paces from her.

“Did you not want to get your hands dirty? Is that why you didn’t kill me yourself?”

Rage bubbles inside me, and I step toward her. “If I want someone dead, I have no qualms about taking their life myself. Getting my hands dirty?” I laugh darkly. “You have no idea just how bloody my hands are, Rainey Astor. And what is it I have done to make you think I want you dead, Hunter? Was it when I pulled you out of the tunnels after you foolishly tried to take on an underground nest alone? Or was it when I killed the half-dozen vampires beating you to death in the alley?” I tap my finger to my chin and nod. “Wait, I have it. It must have been when I took care of you for the two days you laid unconscious in your bed. And let’s not even touch on the nest I wiped out because they tried to kill you in the alley beside the club.”

Her nostrils flare, her eyes begging for a fight I’m not willing to give her. “That was you?”

I lean down, my mouth only inches from hers. “Yes.”

“Then why are you here? What do you want from me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“You can’t—”

Clicking my tongue, I interrupt her. “Not here. I thought you were smarter than that, Rainey.” I turn away, unlocking my car and climbing inside. But before I shut the door, I glance back over at where she stands. “And I thought you’d want answers about your sister.” It’s a low blow, I know that. Especially since I very much doubt I have the answers she’s looking for.

I have no damned clue who killed the eldest Astor. And if I did, they would no longer be walking around in this world. But I need Rainey to stick around. I have questions of my own, and if I’m going to get to the bottom of the rumors I’ve heard about the Astors, I need her on my side.

“I have to go into work,” she says tightly. “But you can come to my apartment tonight. Eight. Don’t be late.” With that, she turns on her heel and stalks toward her motorcycle. I wait in my car, not wanting to leave her alone in the darkness of the garage.

There’s no telling if more bounty hunters are coming, and if they are, I sure as hell don’t want her caught alone. As soon as she pulls out of the garage, I follow out onto the street before making a right and heading the other direction.

I’ve never considered myself a hero. The exact opposite, actually. I’m the man—the creature lurking in shadows—parents warned their children about. I’ve taken more lives than I care to count, mainly because if I do, I doubt I’ll recover from the resounding spiral it would inevitably send me down.

All that considered, I’ve done what I can to recover. I’ve helped hunters, gone against my base nature, and refused human blood fresh from a warm vein. While I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to redeem myself enough, I’m sure as hell going to spend the rest of my life trying.

20

Rainey

Staring down at the alley where I came close to losing my life does nothing but further my anger. A vampire. I was rescued by a fucking vampire.

And not just any bloodsucker either. One who can somehow make his heart sound like it beats like a human. I didn’t even know any supernaturals possessed that particular ability. Yet, here I am, waiting for him to arrive.

Maybe it’s my death wish acting up again.

Maybe I’m just tired of living a life where I’m expected to fight two different wars. One against human evil and the other—well, we’ve already covered that particular aspect of my life. Either way, my life won’t end in a hospital bed surrounded by loved ones.

No, more than likely I’m destined to go out like my sister.

Like my parents.

Bloody, broken, abandoned in a dark alley.

Or maybe I’ll burn to ash in a death mirroring my grandmother’s.

Either way, one thing is certain. My end will be violent. It will be bloody. And I very much doubt it will be quick.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. Ramirez and I hit dead ends on both our current cases—no surprise there. We’ve interviewed the bartenders again—Jack not included—the bouncers, the waitresses, and the owner. None of them recall seeing the woman claimed to have been seen fighting in the alley—me.

The headless Gale vamps are just as much of a mystery, though we did ID the one burnt to a crisp near the door. Sadly enough, he had a family looking for him. His mother has now lost her son, and I can’t even tell her the truth as to why.

As far as Darrell Smith. It’s just as much of a mystery as Elijah’s disturbing-ass ability. No one knew him. He has no family, and the SUV didn’t show up on any security cameras in the area.

Fucking roadblocks everywhere I turn. Granted, I’m grateful for them in the first and second cases.

My phone buzzes, so I pull it out of my pocket and check the readout. Fantastic.

“Hey, Jack.”

“How ya feeling?” he asks.

“Fine.”

“I’m glad you weren’t lying dead in some alley.”

What a coincidental choice of words. “Nope, alive and well.” For now. “Hey, have you ever heard of a vampire possessing magic?”

“Magic? Like a witch?”

“Yeah. A vampire with abilities that go beyond the typical scope of their powers.”

He’s quiet a moment. “No, can’t say that I have. I know that a vamp is like any supernatural in that the longer they’re alive, the more powerful they are. But I’ve never heard of one possessing witch magic.”

“I don’t know if it’s exactly witch magic,” I murmur.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. I heard a rumor there are vampires with the ability to slow their heart rate so it sounds human to us.”

“What? Are you fucking serious?”

“Like I said, it’s a rumor,” I lie. The last damn thing I want is Jack killing Elijah before I’ve had the chance to get my answers. After I do—maybe I’ll tell Jack so he can do whatever the hell he wants with him.

“Shit, I hope it’s one that’s not true. Those fuckers are already hard to hunt when they get past a certain age. If they could hide in plain sight too? We’d never know what they were until it was too late.”

Don’t I know that? “I’ll let you know if I hear anything else about it.”

“Sounds good. I wanted to let you know I checked out that nest.”

“Nest?” It takes me a fraction of a second to realize what he’s talking about. After the alley and what happened earlier today, the tunnels feel like a lifetime ago. “What the hell were you thinking? You were supposed to wait for me.”

“I didn’t go in to fight. Just to check it out, get an idea for what we’d be up against.”

“And?”

“It’s empty.”

“Empty?”

“They bailed. Probably after you found it.”

“Shit. So we don’t know where they are?”

“Not a damned clue. The place was scrubbed, Rainey. Top to bottom, not a single trace of the vampires. Or the humans you mentioned. Honestly, it looked professionally done.”

Elijah’s mysterious Cleaners, no doubt. “Dammit. I’ll see what I can find out. Research,” I add quickly. “I have some extra resources I can look into, especially now that I can actually tell my partner where the humans were being held.”

“Glad to help. Any updates on our meet-cute? Should I find a place to hold up for a while?”

“Nah, we can’t find the blonde woman spotted, and so far, we have no other leads.”

“Good to know I’m not suspect number one.”

“You’re not even on the list,” I tell him. A heavy knock pulls my attention to the door. “Gotta go.”

“Talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Ending the call, I shove my phone into my pocket and glance over just to be sure my blade is out on the counter. In plain sight. I don’t want this asshole thinking, for even a second, he’s going to get the jump on me.

Then, I pull open the door. Elijah stands on the other side, a black duffel tossed over his shoulder. He’s dressed more casual tonight, wearing dark jeans and a Nirvana T-shirt, the yellow smiley face with x’s for eyes giving him an even more human appearance. Both inked, muscled arms are on full display, and despite my hatred, my blood warms, my heart rate increasing at the sheer sight of him and the memory of his fingertips grazing my skin.

Fantastic.

“Rainey,” he says cautiously. I hate the way my body reacts to him. The way his accented baritone makes me want to rub against him like a cat in heat.

“Come in.” I step to the side, and Elijah moves past me. As soon as he’s clear of the door, I shut it and turn as he sets his bag down on the floor beside my bar.

“Nice blade.”

“Thanks.” I move around my counter so we’re separated by the island, my blade between us.

He eyes me, one brow raised, and I know he doesn’t miss my pointed position. “I thought we’d moved past this.”

“There’s no moving past this. We’re enemies.”

“Your sister and I weren’t.”

His words are a dagger to my gut. “And how convenient is it that she’s not here to corroborate your allegations.”

“Your cop is coming out.”

“My cop is always out. And as far as this?” I gesture between us. “You’re alive because you’re of use to me. The moment that changes, I’ll take your head off and not think twice about it.”

He crosses both arms, the muscles of his biceps bulging from the sleeves of the T-shirt. Fucking vampire.

“Good to know where we stand, I suppose. Though, I imagine you’ll change your mind soon enough.”

“Like hell.”

The way he moves in my space as though he’s more comfortable here than I am, it makes me uneasy. Granted, this isn’t the first time he’s been here, and I imagine he had a damn good time going through my shit when I’d been unconscious. Still, he makes me agitated because as much as I wish I could say my anger is all because of what he is—I’m starting to think it might be something more—primal. A hunger only he can sate.

“You have questions for me?” he asks, sitting down on my couch. The bastard relaxes back, one arm on the side, the other lounged along the back. When he crosses his booted feet at the ankles, I’m pretty sure I’m going to spew molten rage all over him.

“You’re awfully comfortable in the home of a hunter,” I say dryly.

“You aren’t a fraction of the hunter you could be, so I think I’ll take my chances.”

The insult rolls right off me even as my fingers itch to grip the hilt of my blade. “Why have you been following me?”

“I told you I promised your sister.”

“Yeah, I got that part. But why now? She’s been dead for two years. Where have you been until now?”

Elijah’s jaw tightens at my question. “I was traveling.”

“Where?”

“Have you heard of a cure?” he asks, and it’s my turn to cross my arms.

“For?”

“Supernaturals. A way for us to shed our immortality, to become human.”

It takes everything I have to keep from gaping at him. A cure? Surely, I would have heard something about that even as out of touch as I am. “No. And I very much doubt something like that exists.”

“Hmm.”

“What the hell does a cure have to do with anything?”

“It’s what I’ve been looking for.”

“Why?”

He arches a dark eyebrow. “I thought that was apparent.”

“If you don’t stop with the half-ass answers, I’m going to fucking decapitate you.” My words hold little threat, and he knows it. I haven’t gotten everything out of him just yet, and don’t think I don’t realize he’s evading on purpose.

“It’s why I wasn’t around when Delaney was killed, and it’s why I didn’t come around when I’d heard. Well, one of the reasons.”

“And the others?”

His ice-blue gaze levels on mine. “I felt responsible for her death and guilty as hell that I wasn’t here to find and kill the ones who did it.”

I swallow hard. “You felt responsible because you weren’t here to save her? Or because you sold her out?”

Elijah’s on his feet and across the room in less than a second. I grip my blade and shove it up between us as he cages me against the counter. Upper lip drawn up in a snarl, he glares down at me with all the rage I feel inside.

Good. Now we’re both on the same page.

“Listen carefully, Hunter, because I won’t say this again. I. Did. Not. Have. Anything. To. Do. With. Delaney’s. Death. She was my friend, a damned good hunter, and someone I was honored to have known.”

“Then why did you leave her?”

“I was making her even more of a target than she already was.”

We stare at each other, chests rising and falling rapidly and in sync. His heart is racing at the rate of a vampire, which is sending my hunter instincts into complete overdrive. A muscle ticks in his jaw, and I watch his gaze travel down my face and fall to my neck.

“Get back, or I’ll drive this silver into your throat.”

Elijah shoves off the counter but doesn’t go far. Instead of returning to the couch, he leans back against the counter opposite of me.

“So, you said something about a cure?”

“Yes. I’ve been seeking it for the last three centuries.”

“Because you want to be human.”

“Because I’m tired of being a vampire.”

“I don’t get it. Were you born or turned?”

“Born.”

“Then why do you want to be a human?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and I get the impression he’s choosing his next words very carefully. It makes me wonder just what’s going through his mind. I mean, a vampire who wishes to be human? Especially one who was born and not turned? That’s not something you run into every day.

It’s weird even by my standards.

“I’ve been alive a long time. And frankly, I’m tired.”

I open my mouth to reply, a sarcastic quip about how I’m happy to end his life for him right now but decide against it. The haunted look in his eyes, the defeat in the slump of his shoulders.

There’s more to him than I’m seeing on the surface, and a part of me—a small sadistic part to be sure—is intrigued by it. Remember that death wish I was talking about? Pretty sure they’re one and the same. Because that would be the only semi-logical explanation for me not killing him already.

“I’m guessing you didn’t find it?”

He shakes his head.

“Why are you back here?”

“I promised Delaney I would keep you safe,” He repeats words I’ve heard before, and I’m having a hell of a time believing. My sister would have never asked a vampire of all creatures to watch over me. Then, he tilts his head to the side as though he’s studying me. “Tell me, what happened to you back at my apartment?”

“Excuse me?”

“When you discovered what I am. Your pupils dilated, and you were…different.”

“I black out when people piss me off. It ends with me removing their heads.”

“And that doesn’t concern you?”

“No,” I lie. “But it should probably concern you.” I glare at him for a moment longer. “So now what, you’re here to assist me in my hunting duties while searching for a cure that more than likely doesn’t exist?”

“More or less.” He sighs. “You should know something, though.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s a lofty bounty on your head.”

“I put two and two together after my three near-death encounters within the last three days. Nearly dying that many times back to back is new—even for me.”

21

Elijah

“What do you mean three near-death encounters?” I demand, straightening.

“The night at the club would be number one. I’m guessing you saw that one seeing as how you claim to have wiped out the Gale clan afterward.”

“And two? Three?”

“Two would be the black SUV that showed up and tried to put some new holes in me. Three was the alley.”

“Who was in the SUV?”

“Not sure. We didn’t exactly do introductions. They pulled up, nearly killed my partner and me, and sped off before I could get any info from them or the license plate.”

“Where was this?”

“A broke-down trailer on the outskirts of No Man’s Land.”

“Where’s that?”

“Southside, just outside city limits. It’s what we call the area.”

I nod, knowing exactly where she’s talking about. That place is trolled heavily by two clans of vamps. Both seek out the druggies, use them as blood bags, which then doubles as a quick way to get high.

Drug-riddled blood equals one hell of a rush. The Gale leader was high as fuck when I killed him, and he resided in the same general area.

“You weren’t hurt?” I ask, fighting the urge to step toward her.

“No. They missed.”

I nod and look away, my eyes resting on an image hanging on her fridge. Reaching forward, my fingers grip the glossy surface of the photograph. Delaney and Rainey stand beside each other, both smiling with a drink in their hands.

They look so normal—so typical here, and it pains me that Delaney will never smile again. Her green eyes stare back at me, her blonde hair loose around her face. It’s a sucker punch to my heart that I won’t get to see my friend again.

I hadn’t even been around to say goodbye.

“She was found facedown in an alley,” Rainey says. Her voice is tight as if the words forced themselves out. I glance up at her. She’s staring at the image in my hands, her eyes glossy. “I was the detective called to the scene.”

Fuck. So not only did she lose her sister, but she had to see her. Dead in an alley. “I’m so sorry, Rainey. I hope you know how much I mean those words. Delaney was special. She was a good person and deserved a hell of a lot more than that.”

My thoughts drift back to the last time I talked to her. The night she’d died.

“Delaney, good to hear from you.” Phone pressed to my ear, I pull another skull from the shelving inside the catacombs beneath Prague.

“You’ve been a wonderful friend to me, and I’m glad I didn’t remove your head when we first met.”

I smile. “I’m pretty glad you didn’t too.”

Delaney sighs. “I don’t have long, but I wanted to say goodbye.”

I stop, getting to my feet, all joy at hearing from her dissipating like smoke in the wind. “What do you mean?”

“It’s okay, I already knew it was coming. But I need you to promise me—” she trails off, voice breaking. “I need you to promise to watch over Rainey. She doesn’t even know the truth—about what she’s capable of.”

“Where are you?” I head for the exit, mission abandoned so I can get back to my friend. She matters more than some rumored cure.

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t get here in time. Just know that I’m prepared. Everything’s ready to go. Keep Rainey safe. Tell her the truth.”

“Delaney—” I trail off at the beeping in my ear signifying the line going dead. “Son of a bitch!”

I didn’t get back to her in time.

I’ve felt grief exactly four times in my long life. Once when my father was murdered, then again when my mother met the same fate. The worst, though, had been when my human fiancée was killed hours before we were to be married.

I shut down, locked myself in walls of seclusion because I was determined to never again feel such loss. It suited me well for three centuries. Until I met Delaney. She became one of my closest friends and someone I knew I could count on. After her death, I lost myself for a while. In the guilt, the pain, the knowing I failed another person in my life. It was all too damn much to bear.

“She deserved to live,” Rainey says, pulling me from my thoughts. “Did you know anything about her life before she died?”

I put the image back up on her refrigerator. “What about it?”

“Anything she was facing I should know?”

I get the impression she’s digging for a purpose, possibly the identity of Delaney’s murderers. “How about you tell me what it is you’re referring to, and then I can answer you. Digging for information without a full-sized shovel will take you quite some time. And in case you didn’t realize it, I’m not sure time is on either of our sides at the moment.”

Rainey bites down on her lower lip, and I force my gaze to stay on hers. The reaction I’m having to her—it’s unheard of, and honestly, it’s fucking annoying.

“I received an email from Delaney earlier.”

I straighten, crossing both arms. “What email?”

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her cell, after tapping on the screen a few times, she hands it over, and I stare down at the words typed on the screen.

R,

If you’re reading this, it’s because I’m no longer around. There are things you need to know, dangerous things I couldn’t tell you until now. Had to wait until enough time passed. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s safe now, but I’m going to try. Still, I can’t say it all at once. It’s too risky to do that.

By now, I imagine you’ve met Elijah. He’s something else, but I promise you he’s someone you can trust. He promised me he’d look out for you once I was gone. I’ll be in contact soon.

Watch your back, and keep an eye out for my next email.

D

Grief tightens around my heart, a vise that squeezes my tortured soul. Lifting my gaze to Rainey, I study her as she watches me.

“I got that this morning. So how about you explain to me how my sister is emailing me after she’s been dead for two years?”

I hand her back the phone. “She must have set it up before she was killed.”

“Thank you for that logical deduction, but I’d already safely reached it. How did she know she needed to set it up? And why now?”

I take a deep breath. The next words will be hard for Rainey to hear. Hell, they were hard for me to hear. But if she’s going to trust me, I need to be as upfront as possible. “Delaney knew she was going to die.”

Rainey’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open on a soft gasp. “What? How?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t tell me until the night she was killed.”

“You talked to her?”

“I did. I was in Prague, and she called me to say goodbye.”

Her grief-stricken face hits me like a punch to the gut, and I fight the urge to reach for her, to offer any comfort possible, though I know there’s nothing I can say or do to help her. “She called you to say goodbye. But not me.”

“She probably didn’t wish to alert you. And honestly, if I hadn’t been so far, she probably wouldn’t have called me either.”

“Didn’t wish to alert me? I could have saved her!” she roars at me. “And yet, she let herself die? Alone in a fucking alley!”

“She wasn’t alone. At least not at the beginning of the night.”

Rainey stills. “What do you mean she wasn’t alone?”

“She was out with another hunter. I never met him in person—probably because she didn’t want us to kill each other—but she mentioned him a time or two.”

“Did she give you a name? A description?”

“A name. She referred to him a time or two as Jack.”

Rainey pales, her body stiffening like a corpse, and she stands in her kitchen for a heartbeat like that before her face contorts into rage.

Face red, jaw tight, nostrils flaring, she looks like she’s about to kill someone. Which, I suppose, probably doesn’t bode well for me since I’m the only one here.

“Jack?”

“Yes. But like I said, I never met him. Only heard her mention him a time or two.”

“That fucking son of a bitch.” She opens her cell phone again and taps on the screen before putting it up to her ear. A moment passes until she says, “Text me your address. I can’t talk over the phone.”

22

Rainey

She wasn’t alone.

I repeat that to myself, over and over again, as I walk down to my bike. My sister was not alone the night she died.

Jack is a fucking liar, and I’m going to make him pay dearly for withholding.

“Where are we going?” Elijah asks.

“To get more answers,” I snap.

“That’s descriptive.”

I halt and spin, jabbing my finger into his hard chest. “I’m teetering on the edge of murderous at the moment, so unless you want me to decapitate you and leave your body in the fucking woods, I’d strongly suggest not poking me.”

Elijah lifts both hands in mock surrender. “Understood. Just thought it would be nice to know where we’re going to be getting these answers.”

“Where’s your car?”

He points to a silver sedan parked near my bike.

“You drive.” I walk around to the passenger side, and after he presses a button on the key fob, I climb in.

“Where to?”

“Here.” I thrust my phone at him and watch him carefully as he reads the name of the contact we’re headed to meet. When he turns to me, anger clear in his sharp gaze, I decide I can trust him when it comes to finding out what happened to Delaney.

Anything else? I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, which, as you can imagine, is not very far.

“J? This is the person who was texting you when you were unconscious.”

I glare at him. “His name is Jack.” Elijah stiffens, his mouth flattening into a tight line as he stares at me.

“Jack?” he asks, his voice tight.

“Yeah. Too much of a coincidence for you too?”

“Fuck yes, it is.” He tosses my phone back at me. “I know where that is.”

We’re pulling onto the highway before I manage to get my rage under control enough to have a conversation. “How often did you go out on hunts with Delaney?”

“About three times a week for nearly a year. Then I took off. But we talked at least once a week.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why were you two friends? How did you bond? You said it wasn’t sexual, so then what was it?” I really doubt my sister would have made friends with a vampire. Unless it was for a damned good reason.

He casts a curious glance my way. “Not every relationship has to have a sexual undertone.”

“I’m not saying it does. But if Delaney were into you, it would explain why she didn’t kill you on sight.”

Elijah chuckles. “She wasn’t nearly as tough as you are. She trusted easier.”

He’s not wrong. For as strong as Delaney was, she gave people the benefit of the doubt. Me? I assume everyone wants to kill me until I’m proven wrong. “And she died for it.”

“Possibly,” he agrees. “As I told you—I saved her. After that, I don’t know. We just bonded. She’d lost people. I’d lost people. A friendship was formed.”

“How long did she know Jack?”

“From what I gathered, a while before I came into the picture. They had a bit more complicated relationship.”

“They were sleeping together?”

Elijah shrugs. “That I don’t know. But I do recall quite a few conversations where she’d talk about him as though they were in a relationship.”

“Seems strange she never introduced you two.”

“Not exactly. Hunters are as much animals as we are. They find out one of their own is consorting with the enemy, they’ll kill them before even bothering to ask why.”

“So she didn’t fully trust him?”

“I don’t think that was it either. Honestly, I think it was me she was worried about.”

“But she trusted you enough to send you to me.”

“She did,” he confirms. “Maybe she believed I wouldn’t like Jack. And from what I’m picturing right now, I really fucking don’t.”

“And what are you picturing?” I ask.

“Him abandoning her.”

I lean back in the seat and stare out into the dark sky as we head to the outskirts of town. “Don’t kill him until I get my answers.”

“Agreed.”

We pull into the parking garage of a small apartment building. From the outside, it appears to be no more than three or four stories above the garage level. The weight of my firearm beneath my shoulder is only outmatched by the familiar feel of my daggers sheathed against my thighs.

Remember what I said about hunters abandoning other hunters? Letting them die to take their territory? I can’t help but feel like that’s exactly what Jack was doing with my sister. What he tried to do to me. Yes, he saved me once and came to pick me up after the tunnels Elijah pulled me from.

But what if all of that was for show? What if I had something he wanted? He could have just been using me until he didn’t need me anymore. Rage and hurt battle for control over me. I’d been blind because I’d hoped to finally have someone in my life who understood.

Someone I could talk to about all the craziness I face night after night as a hunter.

What if he was the one who sent those vampires after me in the alley? If he’d baited me into going to that trailer? It’s entirely possible that he handed over information to the vampires that they then used to track me. And if he had a hand in Delaney’s death…

Reaching down, I toy with the hilt of my blade as Elijah pulls into a spot.

If Jack had anything to do with what happened to Delaney, it’s not going to matter that he helped me once or twice. I’m going to fucking rip him apart.

I’m out before Elijah’s put the car in PARK and stalking toward the stairwell.

“There’s an elevator right here,” Elijah offers, but I shake my head.

“I don’t like elevators if I can avoid them.”

“Noted.”

The heavy metal door opens with a creak, and I move inside, Elijah’s steady presence right behind me. On a good day, I’d never turn my back on a vampire. But today has been shit, and according to my sister—who I trust more than anyone regardless of how fucking pissed I am at her right now—I can trust him.

So I will until I don’t.

Two flights up, we walk through the steel door and onto the second floor. The lights are dim, the red carpet with golden flowers is faded in some spots. Otherwise, I get the impression the building is cleaned regularly.

Two-fifteen, two-twenty, two-twenty one. “Here we are.” I reach up to knock but stop and turn to Elijah. “You may want to do that heart thing you do.”

He nods. “Done.”

I focus in on him, surprised that he managed to flip so quickly. But there it is, beating steadily, a heart no different from that of a human. My eyes travel up his heavily muscled chest, landing on his face.

I’ve gone up against all different types of monsters, but for some reason, the thought of facing my sister’s murderer is far more terrifying. Not because of what he might do but because of what I’m capable of. The edges of my vision waver, and I take a deep breath to control myself. I can’t lose it—not now.

Not yet.

Elijah reaches past me and knocks, his eyes never leaving mine. Dropping my hand, I swallow hard and turn toward the door.

Jack pulls it open, his smile falling when he sees Elijah behind me. “This is a surprise.”

“Can we come in?” I ask, barely leashing my rage.

“Sure.” He steps aside so Elijah and I can get into the apartment. I stand right beside the vampire, who stands about two inches taller than Jack.

“I’m Jack,” he says, holding out a hand.

Elijah doesn’t say a word, nor does he move.

“Okay, what’s going on, Rainey? What’s with the human muscle?”

Good. No suspicions. “It’s been a long couple of days.” I turn and walk further into Jack’s apartment. It’s sparsely decorated. A duffel bag sits open on the small, round table. “Hey, did I ever mention to you that I had a sister?” I ask, turning to face him.

There it is. The twitch just beneath his eye. As I’ve mentioned before, everyone has a tell, no matter how damned good they think they are. “No, you didn’t.”

Bad move. “I did. She was brutally murdered in an alleyway two years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says tightly.

“Thanks.” I pull out one of my daggers, palming the hilt and running the tip beneath my fingernails. “How long have you been in town?”

Jack crosses both arms and glances up at Elijah, who’s stayed rooted in the same spot by the door since we came in. “I thought we covered this? I typically hunt lycans. I’m here because of the surge in activity.”

“And how long have you been here? Simple question, Jack.”

“I didn’t realize this was an interrogation.” He’s handsome, ruggedly so. Is that how you were able to trick her? She wanted companionship—affection—and you gave it to her?

“It doesn’t have to be.” I get to my feet and walk toward him. “If you’d give me some answers.”

“And what answers would those be?”

“My sister was out with a hunter named Jack the night she died.” His eyes widen. “Seems awfully coincidental to me.”

Jack swallows hard, his silence deafening.

“You’re going to want to be completely honest with me, Jack. I’m done with the fucking lies.”

“I didn’t lie,” he says finally. “I just omitted.”

“Same damn thing,” I growl.

“I knew Delaney,” he says.

“You fucking knew her? There’s your answer, Rainey, time to fucking kill him.” Elijah snaps. I turn my attention to him, completely taken aback by the level of anger on his face. Every muscle in his body is rigid, ready to pounce if only given the command. A beast on a chain—a very, very, short chain.

“Not yet.” I turn back to Jack. “How did you know her?”

He glares at Elijah, then looks back to me. “We met on a hunt about four years before she was killed,” he answers, begrudgingly.

“You expect me to believe my sister knew you for four years and didn’t bother to mention you to me?”

He shrugs. “Honestly, I’m not surprised at all.”

“And why the hell is that?”

He bites down on his bottom lip and shakes his head. “It’s not my place.”

In a move I’m pretty damn sure he didn’t anticipate, I lunge for him and wrap my hand around his throat, slamming him back into the wall.

Blue eyes shine with rage, but he makes no move against me. “My sister was slaughtered in a fucking alley, so you damn well better start telling me what I want to know or I swear you will meet the same fate.” In demonstrating, I use my free hand and raise my blade, pressing it against his chest.

He glares at me. “Your sister didn’t feel comfortable talking to you about the supernatural world,” he says. “She didn’t think you could handle it, given your drive to have a normal life.” I release him and step back, his words slamming into me like a fucking battering ram.

My head whips to Elijah, but the look on his face confirms Jack’s words. “Let me get this straight,” I say, drowning in my own emotions. “You expect me to believe my sister trusted you two assholes more than me?”

Jack’s gaze flies to Elijah’s. “You knew Delaney?”

“You don’t get to ask the questions!” I roar. My vision wavers, my legs feeling heavy and unsteady all at the same time—a feeling I know all too well by now. A blackout is coming. And I can’t say I much mind considering how pissed I am at Jack right now. My blade clatters to the floor while I fight to remain in control as the blackout tries to drag me down, the weight of my anger—not only at Delaney or either of the men standing in here now—but also at myself.

Because deep down, I know Jack is right. My sister needed me at her side, and I abandoned her—abandoned my legacy—because I wanted nothing to do with it. Because I foolishly believed I could have a normal life.

Rage burns a hole through me and I shut my eyes, determined to remain standing when all I want to do is give up. After all, maybe dying as my sister did is what I deserve for abandoning her.

“Rainey!”

Someone yells my name, so I open my eyes to stare up into Elijah’s concerned ice-blue gaze. He’s straddling me, his hands pinning my wrists to the ground. I can’t remember how we got here, but my confusion is drowned out by my fury. Rage burns through me hot and fresh. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I hiss and fight against his hold, bucking my hips in a futile attempt to get him the hell off of me. Unfortunately for me, he might as well be a steel band pinning me to Jack’s floor.

“What the fuck just happened to you?”

A fresh bruise blooms on Elijah’s cheek, his bottom lip split wide open.

“Nothing, but if you don’t get the hell off of me, I’m going to make sure something happens to you,” I growl.

He stares down at me a brief moment longer before getting up and stepping back. He doesn’t offer to help me up, and as I survey the apartment, I can’t blame him. The entire place is destroyed. Windows broken, walls dented, sheetrock dust covers the carpet.

A lamp is on the floor in broken shards, and Jack is standing in the kitchen, a huge gash in his chest. He stares at me, confusion and, if I’m not mistaken—a little fear in his gaze. “What the hell happened in here?” I ask. How did I miss—“Oh, shit.”

Elijah crosses his arms. “I’d say oh shit is an understatement for whatever the hell just happened to you.”

“I blacked out,” I tell them both, turning in a slow circle. “It happens sometimes.”

Both men look like they’ve been through the ringer, though Jack definitely took the brunt of it. Other than the gash on his chest, his right eye is already swollen and black, his lip is split in two places, and what I can see of his muscular arms is covered in abrasions.

I beat the shit out of him—and I don’t even remember it.

“You wouldn’t stop no matter what I said to you,” Elijah confirms. “You nearly killed him.”

“She’d have killed you too,” Jack snarls back, keeping his distance from me.

“I didn’t mean—I don’t know why it happens.”

Elijah doesn’t reply, his gaze never straying from me. “You truly remember nothing?”

“I never do.”

“How often does this happen?”

“None of your fucking business,” I snap, determined to get the focus off of me and back on Jack so I can’t focus too intently on how scared I am that I lost control this way. “Delaney,” I say, turning back to the hunter.

“You expect to just go back to questioning me after that shit?”

“Yeah, I do. And I’d suggest answering me so I don’t lose my shit again. You lied to me, Jack. Lied to me about knowing my sister. And you can sit there and act like it wasn’t that big of a deal—but you’re fucking wrong. She died in an alleyway, alone, and I never found the creature responsible. Now, here you show up and just so happen to be working at a club in my territory. Was it coincidence? Did you go there on purpose?”

“That’s where I recognize you from,” Jack points to Elijah. “You were there.”

“Answer her question.”

“It was coincidence. I had no intention of ever meeting you.”

“Why?”

“Because I loved your sister,” he says flatly, and I seek his expression for his tell but find none. Just genuine emotion. “I loved Delaney, and I never wanted to meet you because I was too afraid you would remind me of what a failure I’d been.”

“Then why stick around? And how the hell did you know who I was?”

“I was in Astor territory; I guessed it was you. As for why I stuck around, I felt like I owed Delaney, and after you were jumped by those other vamps, the idea that you would die too—I couldn’t do that to her.”

“How sweet,” Elijah growls.

“Why was she alone? If you loved her, why weren’t you with her when she died?”

“I was,” he says, his words so faint I nearly miss them.

Narrowing my gaze, I take a step toward him and Elijah moves with me, no doubt to yank me back should I lunge for Jack again. “Excuse me?”

Jack runs both hands over his face. “We got separated. A pack of wolves cornered us. I took three, she took the others. Only, it turned out to be more than one pack. They lured us away from each other. By the time I found her—” He trails off, his voice cracking. “She was dead.”

More than one pack working together?

“You left her alone?” Elijah demands, moving around to stand beside rather than behind me.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Someone you don’t want to piss off.” After he finishes speaking, Elijah drops whatever ability makes his heart slow, and Jack’s eyes widen as he steps back.

“You brought a fucking vampire into my apartment?” he roars.

“Way to go,” I say dryly, shooting a glare back at Elijah.

He shrugs. “He needed to know that it’s not just a psychopathic hunter he’s dealing with,” he says with a pointed glare at me.

More like you wanted to whip it out and show him your power is bigger. “Elijah and my sister were friends.”

“Like fucking hell they were! Delaney would have never been friends with a bloodsucker.” He glares up at Elijah.

“Obviously, you didn’t know her as well as you thought you did.”

Jack shakes his head angrily before turning toward me. “You trust him? Rainey? Seriously! He’s a fucking vampire!”

“My sister told me I could trust him.”

Jack pales, and he stares at me in disbelief. “And when did she tell you that?”

“In an email I got this morning. She said she had important things to tell me. Dangerous things.” I move closer to him, ready to make a move if he thinks he’s going to pick a fight with Elijah. Not because I’m worried he’ll hurt him but because Elijah looks ready to separate Jack’s head from his shoulders.

Here I am, choosing a vampire over my own kind. Yeah, I know. There’s that death wish again.

“How did she—I saw her. I found her body after—” Jack’s voice cracks, emotion shining through in his eyes.

“Worried that she’s going to tell Rainey what you did?” Elijah asks.

“I didn’t fucking kill her!” Jack roars, stepping into Elijah’s face again. The vampire’s hands curl into white-knuckled fists at his sides. Shit. Elijah’s going to kill him.

“Back the hell up, you two. This isn’t a fucking competition for who loved my sister more.”

“You were in love with her?” Jack steps back as if he’s been shoved.

“No. We were friends.” Elijah glares over at me, the power in his body shimmering beneath his ice-blue gaze. I can sense it even more now after whatever the hell caused me to black out. Emotions on high, whatever power is inside him permeates the air around us. What are you? There’s a hell of a lot more than vampire within Elijah, but as curious as I am about who—and more accurately what—he is, right now, I want to make sure Jack is telling the truth. My gut says he is, that he did love my sister and had nothing to do with her death.

Hell, his emotions are all over his damn face, but as I’ve mentioned, I don’t trust easy. And once someone has lied to me, that’s pretty much it.

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” I ask, redirecting the conversation. “Not like you haven’t lied to me before.”

“Omitted. You wouldn’t have trusted me if I’d told you I failed to protect your sister.”

“You’re damn right. I probably would have killed you for letting her die.”

“If there was anything I could have done—”

“Yeah.” I put up my hand, cutting him off. “I’ve heard that excuse before.” I shoot a glare at Elijah. “You’re going to want to leave town, Jack. I don’t do liars, and I don’t need a partner. Especially not one who’s just going to get me killed.”

The moment the words leave my lips, Jack’s face falls, and I feel like the biggest bitch in the entire world.

But I can’t help it. He was there. He should have stayed with her. And at the very least, he should have come clean and told me the truth.

“Rainey, if I—”

“I swear, Jack.” Tears burn my eyes, my throat constricting as I stare into the eyes of a man Delaney trusted. A man she might have loved. I wish I could say I was only angry about the lie, but the truth is I’m more pissed off at myself. Both men in this room knew Delaney better than I did.

She trusted them with secrets she never told me.

Delaney trusted Elijah with information about a man she cared for—Jack.

She trusted Jack to have her back. Where the hell was I? Living my life as though the hunter blood in my veins was nothing.

“You’ve seen what I’m capable of,” I tell him, gesturing to the damage surrounding us, the still healing injuries on his body. “Cross my path again, and Elijah won’t be there to stop me.”

Something slams into me a moment before glass shatters.

“Shit!” Jack curses, diving to the side as more glass falls onto me.

“What the hell?” I demand as Elijah’s heavy weight rests on top of me for a second time that night, pinning me to the ground.

“Stay down,” he orders and pushes up to a crouch. As soon as he’s off me, I sit up just enough to survey the crossbow bolt stuck in Jack’s sheetrock. A bolt that would have gone straight through me had Elijah not acted.

“What the hell was that?” Jack asks, blade out as he crouches behind the kitchen counter.

“Someone’s trying to kill Rainey and me,” Elijah replies.

“What? Why?”

“Not really sure, though I can’t imagine my killing a council member was much help,” I tell Jack.

“You killed a Vampire Council member?”

“Seems that way.” I close my eyes and focus, trying to sense anything that might allude to whether or not the attack is over.

Somewhere outside, a door slams.

Tires screech.

“We’re safe for now,” Elijah and I both say at the same time.

“Isn’t that cute,” Jack says dryly. “Already finishing the vampire’s sentences.”

I glare over at him.

“We need to go.” Elijah reaches down and pulls me to my feet. I yank my arm from his grasp.

“I’m perfectly capable of keeping myself alive, thank you.”

“That bolt would have gone straight through your throat.” Elijah’s nostrils flare. “So maybe just thank me and drop the bitter sarcasm.” He turns to Jack. “There a back way out of here?”

“I was just going to suggest that.” Jack crosses the room carefully and grabs the duffel on the counter. “Follow me.”

I withdraw my firearm, which I remembered to load with silver bullets before Elijah showed up, then wait as Jack sticks his ear out into the hall. He glances back and nods, so we follow him out and down the hall, going the opposite way as when we arrived.

The steady thump of music reaches us as we pass by the apartment on the end, and Jack pulls open the steel door, leading us down some steps.

As soon as we’re inside, Elijah grabs Jack’s shirt and slams him into the wall.

Jack glares at him, nostrils flaring, murder in his eyes. “You’re going to want to let me go, Vamp. I don’t have the same fondness for bloodsuckers that Rainey, apparently, does.”

Elijah doesn’t even flinch at the threat. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that if you’re leading us into a trap, I will rip your head from your shoulders. Anything happens to Rainey, and what she did to you in there is going to feel like a playdate. You fuck with her, and you’re a dead little hunter, do you understand?”

“I’m not trying to hurt her,” Jack insists and lifts both arms, slamming them down onto Elijah’s forearms.

The vamp lets him go and steps back. With one last glare at me, Jack descends the stairs, withdrawing his blade once again as he moves. Weapon at the ready, I bring up the rear of our flawed little party, consistently checking behind us to ensure we aren’t being followed.

The Hunt in my veins sends my adrenaline spiking, and based on the way Jack’s hand shakes on the hilt of his blade, I’d say it’s hitting him too. Elijah, on the other hand, is so damned tense I feel like a gust of wind would shatter him.

By the time we reach the bottom of the stairwell, I’m more than ready for a fight. Something to expel this fucking energy because apparently kicking the shit out of Jack wasn’t enough of a release.

Jack shoves the door at the bottom open, and we step out into the backside of the parking garage. I scan as we walk while using my senses to listen to our surroundings so we’re not surprised anymore.

Too often lately, my emotions have been clouding my instincts.

Elijah takes the lead, and we follow through the maze of cars until finally, we see his silver sedan. We’re about ten yards away when he pulls out his key fob and hits the unlock button.

I hear the tick too late to warn anyone.

Then, boom.

23

Elijah

Flames lick my ankles, the heat of it pulling me out of a daze. My ears ring, pain ricocheting around my skull like a fucking snare drum. Fuck, how long was I out? The garage is destroyed, the blast wiping out a good ten-foot perimeter around my car. Or rather, the smoking metal that used to be my car.

“Rainey!” I yell, scanning the debris for her. I was the closest to the explosion, which should mean I took the brunt of it. If I’m alive, that bodes well for her, doesn’t it?

I push to my feet, stumbling as I wipe metal shards from my body. At least, the ones that could be wiped away. When I pull my hands back, they’re covered in dark liquid. Son of a bitch. My entire body feels as though it should be scattered in pieces around the damn garage.

I turn, searching for Rainey, but finding nothing. Neither her nor Jack are anywhere around me. “Rainey!”

I stumble, holding myself up with a hand on the cars as I pass. Panic sears through me—bone-chilling terror I can’t ever remember feeling before.

Where the hell is she? Did someone come in and take her? About three yards from where I landed, I kneel and run my finger over the small pool of blood at the base of the brick wall. Holding it to my nose, I inhale. Rainey.

She was injured. Turning my head up, I roar, the carnal side of me promising vengeance for whoever has her.

I’m going to tear them the fuck apart limb from limb.

Sirens fill my ears as red and blue lights flash just on the outside of the garage. Knowing I need to get the hell away from here as quickly as possible, I head back the way we came, stumbling back up the steps, my muscles screaming as I go.

But with each step, my body is healing, so by the time I reach Jack’s apartment, I’m nearly fully regenerated. Wood splinters as I kick in the door, not bothering to fucking wait for an invitation.

“Rainey?” I call out, searching through the small apartment until I’m satisfied the shit is empty. Where the hell would she be? “Rainey!” Throat tight, I stumble back out into the hall, not at all surprised at the number of people in the hall. An older woman with curlers in her hair is talking on her phone.

I pass by the onlookers with a one-track mind: finding Rainey.

If she’s hurt, she—I shake my head. She probably walked away. Maybe she thought I was dead? Or maybe she just didn’t give a shit if I was alive.

By the time I reach the street, I’m back to where I need to be so don’t bother walking. I run, as fast as I fucking can. The miles I run pass in a blur—and I don’t waste time putting up a cloak.

Since it’s dark, the chances of anyone focusing on a passing blur are unlikely enough that I don’t want to risk draining myself.

Fucking hunter. If he hurt her…

I stop in front of Rainey’s apartment building and glance up. The lights are on, and I know she turned them off before she left.

I jump, landing on the balcony of her apartment with nothing but a soft thud. Immediately, I move to the side as a shadow passes by the curtains.

As soon as it’s clear of the door, I grip the handle and rip it open. Glass shatters as the frame bends, collapsing. In one smooth move, I grab the person and slam them into the wall, hand on their throat.

It takes me a moment too long to see that it’s not Jack I’m holding. Wide, panicked, mismatched eyes stare up at me as the woman grips my arm. I immediately drop her.

“What the fuck!” Jane holds her throat, her other hand gripping her pepper spray as she holds it in front of her. “I know karate, you creep! I swear I’ll spray you!”

“It’s Elijah,” I urge.

“I know who the hell you are! I don’t care! Where’s Rainey?”

“I don’t know. There was an accident. I came here because I thought someone took her.”

Jane pales. “You—accident—someone—is she okay?”

“I don’t know. Is there anywhere she could have gone?”

“What? I—” Jane narrows her gaze on me. “I don’t know you well enough to tell you anything.” She pulls her phone out and taps the screen before pressing it to her ear.

I don’t bother to ask who she’s calling. I’d be willing to bet the person on the other line will be—

“Ramirez,” the man speaks into the receiver. I can hear him as though I’m the one with the phone.

“It’s Jane.”

“Is everything okay?”

She glares at me. “I can’t find Rainey, and Elijah is here—he says there was an accident or something, and he thinks someone might have taken her.”

“Where are you?” Ramirez asks, all sleep gone from his voice.

“Rainey’s apartment.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Okay. We’ll be here.” Jane ends the call but doesn’t put her phone down. Instead, she taps twice and turns it around so I can see the screen. “All I have to do is hit two more buttons, and the police will be here ASAP.” The can of pepper spray is still turned toward me.

I let her have her false sense of security and don’t bother to show her how quickly I could disarm her.

“I need to find her,” I tell Jane. “She could be hurt.” Or worse. But I don’t let myself focus on the likelihood of the latter.

“For all I know, you could have attacked her, and she kicked your ass before escaping.”

I stare down at my ruined shirt and my ash-covered jeans. “Do you think she blew me up? Because that’s what happened. Someone rigged my car to explode, and when I woke up, she was gone.”

“Save it for Ramirez,” Jane orders. “You can tell him, and he’ll decide if you’re worth trusting.” Her voice is steady, which is incredibly impressive, given the situation. If I wasn’t so damned terrified, I might comment on it.

“Call her,” I ask.

“I already tried.”

“Please try again. Please,” I beg. Something pretty damned unusual for me. While I would normally use force to get what I want, I won’t do that to Rainey’s friend. Because if I did, Rainey would never trust me.

And I need her alive and on my side. My future depends on it.

Jane stares me down another moment before tapping on her phone and putting it on speaker. It rings twice, and then a man answers.

Jack. I growl, low and deep, my hands tightening into fists.

“Hello?”

Jane stares up at me, her eyes wide. “Where’s Rainey?” she asks, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“She’s asleep,” he says smoothly. “I can tell her who called?”

“Where is she asleep because I’m standing in her apartment, and she sure as hell isn’t here?”

“Who is this?”

“Her best friend, who the hell is this?”

“Jack, her boyfriend,” Jack lies smoothly. The fucker is cool under pressure, I’ll give him that.

“Then how about you tell me where my best friend is? Before I call the police. She’s a detective, you know. I can have her partner track you down!”

“No need for that. We’re at my apartment.” Fucking liar.

“Where?”

“Off Bench Boulevard.”

“If you are lying to me, Jack, I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you in a cupcake.” She ends the call, and I can’t help but grin at her. Even as terrified as I am about Rainey, Jane’s bravado is impressive as shit. “What?” she glares at me.

“You handled him well. He’s lying, by the way. I was at his apartment.”

“Was it on Bench Boulevard?”

I shake my head.

Jane mutters something I can’t quite make out. “Here’s hoping he has a second place. We going?”

“I don’t have a car.”

“Then we can take mine.” She shoves the pepper spray into her purse before whipping back around to me. “Just so you know, I still don’t trust you. You are the one Rainey introduced as her boyfriend, which means he’s lying. That’s the only reason I’m going over there.”

“Understood.”

Jane leaves, locking the door behind her before putting the phone back up to her ear. It rings as we walk until finally, “Jane, what is it? I’m nearly there.”

“Meet us at the apartments on Bench. That’s where she is.”

Ramirez sighs. “Number?”

“Don’t know.”

“We’ll find it,” I growl. If Jack’s telling the truth and he has her there, I’ll find him.

“Who was that?”

“Elijah.”

Ramirez hesitates a moment. “Are you safe?”

Jane glances over at me as we reach the elevator. “For now.”

“I’m pulling up outside, ride with me.”

“Okay.” She ends the call. “Rainey’s partner is outside.”

Shit. “I really can go on my own.”

“You aren’t going anywhere until Rainey is safe. You understand?”

I nod. Won’t hurt to have them around, especially someone to get Rainey out while I’m busy ripping Jack apart, piece by piece. “Understood.”

A black Malibu is parked outside, and as soon as we step onto the curb, Ramirez reaches across and opens the passenger door for Jane. “You’re in back,” he tells me as he looks me up and down, mouth set in a grim line.

“I’ll meet you both there.” Turning, I blur down the street, my excess speed and the need to dodge moving vehicles and pedestrians the only thing keeping my fear from spiraling out of control.

It takes me all of five minutes to make it there where it will take them close to twenty minutes to get here in a car. I stare up at the apartments. It’s a small unit, maybe a dozen or so, and only two stories.

There’s one apartment with the lights on. Tilting my head to the side, I listen for anything that might tell me which one they’re currently occupying.

“Let me the fuck go,” Rainey growls from somewhere behind me. It’s faint, muted, but just enough for me to pinpoint a location. I spin, racing across the street to the apartment complex situated directly across from the other. It doesn’t take me long to find the room they’re in because Rainey is muttering a string of threats at Jack.

The door ahead splinters when I slam into it, and Jack jumps up from where he was sitting at a small table, blade in hand.

“You dumb son of a bitch,” I growl, stalking toward him.

“Elijah! No!”

I turn, my eyes falling on Rainey. She’s pissed but, for the most part, appears to be fine. Cuts and scrapes cover her face and what I can see of her arms. She’s standing in the corner, jacket slung over a chair beside her. The scent of her blood fills my lungs, and I cringe as it threatens to overtake me.

I shiver, closing my eyes and trying to focus on harnessing the bloodlust into murderous rage for the hunter who stole her from me.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Jack growls.

Thankfully, the rage is currently a hell of a lot stronger than the bloodlust. Growling, I face off with Jack. He stares back at me, not at all afraid. Stupid mistake. “You stole her from that garage.”

“She was going to die if I didn’t.”

“You set that bomb up?” I ask, stalking toward him.

“No, he didn’t,” Rainey says.

I don’t even bother to look at her. “How do you know?”

“Because he was with us the entire time. Use logic, Elijah. Unless he magically transported himself to the garage to set up the bomb in the few minutes it took us to get upstairs, there’s no damn way he could have gotten back to the apartment to let us in.”

She’s right, of course, but that doesn’t quell my bloodthirst. I want this hunter’s head on a fucking platter. “He could have called someone, texted them to let them know we were down there.”

Jack reaches into his pocket and slams his phone against my chest. “Then check my log, you asshole.”

Reaching down, my fingers close over the small phone. Holding his gaze, I clench my fist and break it apart, letting the pieces scatter on the floor.

“Really mature, Elijah. Truly the actions of someone who’s probably been around since the dark ages,” Rainey says dryly.

“Have you forgiven him so easily then?” I demand.

Rainey glares at me and crosses both arms. “How the hell do you think his nose was broken?”

I turn back to Jack and look over the injuries I thought were from Rainey’s earlier ass-kicking and the blast. Grinning, I nod. “Good work. Still don’t think he should have his head.”

“In case you haven’t realized, I don’t do things according to what you would do. How did you find us?”

“A woman called,” Jack answers. “You bleed her dry after she got you what you wanted, Vamp?”

“A woman? What woman?” Panic laces Rainey’s voice.

“Jane is on her way here,” I tell her without bothering to look away from Jack.

“Jane? Shit, put that away!” she tells Jack.

“Ramirez is with her,” I add.

“Ramirez? What the hell did you do? They don’t know anything about any of this!”

“Blame your friend Jack here. Jane went to your apartment, looking for you, and when she couldn’t find you, she called your partner.”

“Son of a bitch. This is so fucked.” She starts to pace back and forth as if attempting to formulate some kind of logical explanation for the shit storm we’ve found ourselves in.

“They should be here any minute. Probably should go ahead and rip this asshole apart so we can just meet them outside.”

“You can try,” Jack growls, not intimidated by my threat.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised that you think you stand a chance. Hunters have never really been known for their intelligence.”

“Can you two just cut the pissing contest already? You’re a badass hunter, and you’re a badass vampire. I can still kick both your asses, and I will if you don’t both put your dicks away and focus. There, we good now?”

A smile tugs at my lips despite the rage still burning me from the inside. “Not until he pays.”

“For what exactly? Rescuing me? Getting me away when he thought someone was going to kill me? You pissed that he left you behind?”

Swallowing hard, I glance away from Jack and to Rainey, who’s glaring at the both of us, hands on her hips. “Fine.” I step back, far enough away that I can partially ignore the way my body is reacting to the scent of her blood.

So I can ignore the side of me that wants to claim her as mine regardless of how fucking irresponsible that is.

“We need to get our story straight for when Ramirez gets here,” Rainey orders.

“Someone tried to kill us, not much to straighten out about that,” Jack says dryly.

“Yes, but the whole Elijah waking up alone part? That’s where things get iffy.” She glares at Jack, and I get the impression he got an earful along with the ass-kicking.

It makes not killing him a bit easier to swallow.

“And then there’s the part where you were a murder suspect.”

“I thought you said I wasn’t one?”

“We still interviewed you at the alleyway.” Rainey takes a deep breath. “This is what we’re going to say. You called because you thought you saw the blonde woman across the street.” Rainey glares up at me. “Since you introduced yourself as my boyfriend, we’re going to pretend you had taken me on a date and I wanted to swing by Jack’s place. Then, the car explodes. Jack freaks out, brings me here to save me. Sound good?”

I cross both arms over my chest, enjoying the irritation on Jack’s face. “Sure.”

“Yeah,” Jack adds.

“Rainey?” Jane’s voice carries in from outside, and Rainey shoves past me.

“I’m here!” she calls.

“Thank God!” Jane and Ramirez rush up, Ramirez’s weapon at the ready as he moves inside.

“How the hell did you get here so fast?” he demands.

Elijah shrugs. “Shortcut.”

“Are you okay?” he asks, turning his attention to Rainey as he holsters his weapon.

“Fine. Had a bit of an exciting night.”

“I can see that.” Ramirez’s sharp gaze travels over to Jack. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Jack called me when Elijah and I were getting ready to go out. He said he thought he saw the blonde woman from the club the other night.”

“And you didn’t think to call me?”

“I thought it would be easy enough to handle. I know you and Kamie haven’t had a lot of time together lately, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Ramirez’s face softens. “You should have called.”

“I know.”

“What’s with the dirt?” Jane asks, stepping toward Rainey. “The dried blood?”

“Car explosion. Someone rigged Elijah’s car. When we unlocked it, it blew.”

“You were all three there?” Ramirez asks as he studies me. My injuries are nearly all healed by now, which is not characteristic of someone who was nearly blown to bits. “I had a leather jacket on,” I say. “Shielded me from the blow but was shredded after.”

“Uh-huh.” He doesn’t look convinced. “Why would someone want to kill you?” Ramirez demands.

Before I can answer, Rainey clears her throat. “It wasn’t him they were trying to kill.”

Her partner whips toward her. “What?”

“I think someone is trying to kill me. Before we came down to the garage, someone shot a crossbow into the apartment. Elijah pulled me out of the way just in time. Then there was the shooting the other day…I think someone has it out for me.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know, but I’m thinking we should probably figure it out.” She clears her throat and rolls her shoulders. “Now, for the love of cheese and crackers, can someone get me some fucking Skittles?”

24

Rainey

After popping a handful of Skittles into my mouth, I stare out the sliding glass door of Jane’s small apartment. The street below is dark, illuminated only by streetlamps spaced apart so they cast a soft glow on the sidewalk.

It was damn good timing that Minnie is staying with another friend for a few days. Gives us a safe place to crash for the night since Jane wouldn’t let me go back to my apartment tonight.

She passed out a few minutes after we got here with Jack following shortly after. I glance back at the hunter who’s got an arm up over his face as he sleeps on the couch. The only reason he’s here is to lend to the illusion that he is not my enemy.

Which, all things considered, he might not be. But the second the sun comes up, my warning stands, and he knows it. If I ever see Jack Keller again, I’ll kill him.

My gaze drifts over him to Elijah.

He’s sitting in the decorative high-backed chair in the corner of the living room, his large frame dwarfing the pale blue fabric. Both legs are stretched out in front of him, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

All evidence of the explosion has disappeared from his skin, though his shirt is still shredded in some places. As he sleeps, I study the short beard covering his strong jaw, the sharp set of his nose. He’s handsome—elegantly so while also managing to pull off the whole overbearing alpha appeal.

When he’d exploded into the apartment where Jack brought me after we nearly died—his expression was wild, panicked. As if he was there for the sole purpose of rescuing me from some imaginary enemy.

Not that the enemy is imaginary at this point. Obviously, someone is after us—after me. I just have no fucking clue who would have orchestrated it. The Council, perhaps? Some clan of vampires I’ve pissed off? I mean, at this point, it could literally be anyone. Not like I have a whole lot of friends.

As I turn back to the sliding glass door, I take one last look at Jack. I thought I had a friend. Turns out I was way off base. He’s fucking lucky I didn’t kill him while I was blacked out, and the only reason he’s here right now is because I can tell he cared for my sister. While I can’t bring her back, I can at least not murder one of her only friends.

I grip the handle of the door and slide it open. Thankfully, it moves near soundlessly, disrupting neither of the two men behind me. I step outside, inhaling the crisp mountain air as I do. After I graduated high school, I’d briefly considered moving to another city.

A bigger one, full of nightlife. But Billings is my home, and there’s just something about it that brings me comfort. I very much doubt I’d feel at peace anywhere else. I snort. Because I’m so at peace now.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I stiffen. I can feel his presence, the warmth of it washing over me and pooling in the pit of my stomach. It takes all of my self-control to not close my eyes and lean back into him as one might a lover.

But he’s not my lover.

Hell, he’s not even my friend.

The door shuts softly behind me, so I turn, facing Elijah, who dwarfs the patio surrounding us. His face is tight, jaw hard, eyes so damned bright I can see the shades of blue even in the dark of night. Power rolls off him as he doesn’t even bother to mask it anymore. I can’t believe I never saw it—even through whatever the hell he was doing to keep it shielded. I joked about him being an alpha—but it’s absolutely true.

Elijah is a warrior with the manners of an aristocrat.

A hero with the tongue of a villain.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks, stepping up beside me on the balcony.

“No.” My response is sharp, and I know it has more to do with me being pissed off at myself than at him. At least, currently. But how else am I supposed to feel? The way he affects me—it goes against the very nature of my being.

And it’s frustrating as shit because a huge part of me doesn’t want to care.

“Feel better after your shower?” he asks, gesturing to the sweats and oversized Baby Yoda T-shirt I pilfered from Jane. She may have a slight obsession with graphic T-shirts.

“I do. It was nice to get the blood off.”

For a brief moment, his heart rate increases ever so slightly. “May I?” He holds out a hand, so I reach into my bag and hand him a few Skittles. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Something moves in the shadows. Narrowing my gaze, I peer down at the street.

“It’s a feline,” Elijah says as he pops the candy into his mouth.

Right as he finishes speaking, a cat runs into the dim light. “How did you—”

“Your heart rate increased. I assumed.”

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

I turn toward him. “Acting like you know me.”

Elijah arches a dark eyebrow. “And it would bother you if I did?”

“You don’t,” I insist. “Following me for weeks doesn’t equate knowing someone. You might know how I take my coffee, my favorite kind of candy…but it ends there.”

He swallows hard and nods. “Then tell me something.”

“Why?”

“Why not? If I don’t know you, enlighten me. What makes you Rainey Astor?”

Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I turn toward the balcony railing. Why is there a part of me that wants him to know me?

“It’s funny to me how when you ask someone to tell you something about themselves, they freeze up.”

“I’m not freezing up,” I snap, keeping my voice low enough that I won’t wake Jack.

“Tell me something, anything you don’t think I know.”

“Why don’t we start with you?”

There’s that damned eyebrow raise again. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Your heart, you can change the way it beats.”

“Call it my superpower.”

“How can you do that? I’ve never met another vampire with that ability.”

“I am the only of my kind. And soon you’ll find there’s little I can’t do.”

The multiple meanings behind his statement are not lost on me, and I can’t keep my mind from drifting to far less honorable things. “Why are you so interested in keeping me alive? Surely, it’s not just because you were friends with Delaney.”

Elijah clicks his tongue. “That’s not how this works, Rainey. I tell you something about me; you tell me something about you.”

“You didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. How can you slow your heart?”

“It’s my superpower,” he repeats.

I bite down on my bottom lip and glare out over the street.

“I’m not a purebred,” he says, and I turn toward him so fast I nearly topple over.

“You’re not full vampire?”

Elijah shakes his head. “My mother was a witch.”

Never would have guessed that. “That’s a new one.”

“As I said, I’m the only one like me. My father was a Hawthorne, the last line of purebred vampires. When he mated with my mother, it became an atrocity to all vampires. We were hunted, and my father gave up his seat on the Immortal Council to spare our lives.”

“Your father was on the Immortal Council? The same one I took out the member of in the tunnels?”

“Yes and no. My father was a part of the Immortal Council. The vampire you killed was on the Vampire Council.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yes. The immortals oversee all supernaturals. There are two members of each faction who hold seats. Each faction has its own Council. The vampires have one, the shifters have another.”

“Kind of like their own secret government.”

“Yes.”

I consider his words and wonder just how many hunters know about the Councils. I wonder if Delaney did or if she was as unaware as I was. “Is your mother’s magic the reason you can be out in the day?”

He nods. “That and my age.”

“Exactly how old are you?”

“Honestly, I’ve lost count of the exact number. Somewhere in the realm of four centuries.”

“Holy shit.”

He grins. “Do I not look my age then?”

I swallow hard and change the subject. “Where are they now? Your parents.”

“Dead. My father was assassinated in our place, and my mother was killed three centuries ago when they killed my human fiancée.”

“Fuck.” My heart aches for the man beside me. For the pain, the grief he must have felt losing both parents and the woman he loved. “You loved a human.”

“As you know by now, I don’t care much for being immortal.”

“But a human? She only would have lived a fraction of the time you would have.”

“I was going to turn her after we were married. Her choice, of course.”

“Of course,” I repeat, turning back toward the street. The sky is dark tonight, making way for the stars to shine brightly in the sky. Delaney and I loved nights like this. Where the world was at peace and we could pretend we were just normal sisters on a normal night.

It hasn’t been the same since she died. And yet, I can’t even count how many nights I’ve stared up at the stars and wondered if my sister was watching over me.

“Your blackouts, you say it’s happened before?”

I glance up at him for a brief moment before turning back to the sky. “Yeah, a few times. The first one was when I saw Delaney’s body.”

“What happened?”

“I woke up in the middle of a warehouse covered in blood.”

“Yours?”

I shake my head. “Wasn’t much of a mystery to find out whose it was though, since I was surrounded by the bodies of vampires I’d ripped apart.”

“Well, fuck. You don’t know why they happen?”

“Not a damn clue.” I sigh and opt for a subject change. “I’m not overly fond of my legacy either,” I admit. It’s the first time I’ve uttered the words out loud.

“That right?”

“It’s not that I think keeping the balance isn’t important—it is—I just wish I had the chance to choose my own path.”

“Yet, you chose a profession where you track down monsters.”

“Human ones,” I reply dryly.

“If you don’t wish to be a hunter, then why do it?”

I sigh. “When Delaney died, I felt it was my duty to carry it on for her. My biggest regret is that I wasn’t there for her, and honestly, I think a part of me hopes this life takes me sooner rather than later.”

The metal creaks, and I glance over to see Elijah’s hands, white-knuckled, on the steel railing.

“My entire family is dead, Elijah. Everyone I’ve loved except Jane. And how long will it be before this life takes her from me too? I just don’t know how long I can do this.”

“I understand that feeling, though I would be remiss if I didn’t mention how I don’t wish to think of you dead. The world would lose an unbelievably valuable protector even if they don’t realize it.”

“I appreciate you saying that.”

Elijah chuckles darkly. “Look at us, two monsters, each with their own death wish.”

I smile. “Guess I never thought of it that way.”

“I thought you’d died tonight.” Elijah’s voice is strained, his tone sharp, so I turn to look over at him. He’s not watching me, though I get the impression he’s not focused on much of anything at the moment.

“I thought I had too.”

He turns to me now. “You don’t know what that did to me. The panic—I’ve never felt anything like it.”

I’m treated to a visual of him bursting through the door, wood splinters flying through the small room as he appeared in the doorway, ice-blue eyes blazing with power I now know comes from his mother’s side.

Before I can ask why, I reach into my bag and pull out some Skittles. If I go down that path, I may start to think he actually cares for me. And that’s a damned dangerous thing to believe.

I hunt monsters.

And the man beside me? He’s deadlier than anything I’ve ever faced.

25

Rainey

The phone on the nightstand beside me rings, pulling me out of a heavy sleep.

“Hello?”

“How you doing?” Ramirez asks on the line.

“Tired. Everything okay?”

“We got a body. Looks like it might be a jumper from one of the high-rises downtown.”

Shit. “Text me the address.”

“How about I come pick you up? Last I checked, you don’t have a way of getting anywhere. Unless, of course, that changed.”

Double shit. My bike is still at my apartment.

“I’ll bring coffee,” he offers.

“Fine. But I need you to run me by my apartment so I can get my badge and weapon.”

“You’ve got it. Be there in thirty.” The line goes dead, so I drop the phone on my stomach and run both hands over my face.

The clock on Jane’s dresser reads nine-thirty, but it feels more like the middle of the night to me. Probably because I stood outside with Elijah until the bright orange rays of the sun peaked over the mountainside.

For the most part, we’d been silent, polishing off the bag of Skittles Jane grabbed for me from the gas station on the way back to the apartment last night. Jane. I glance over, not at all surprised to see my best friend is already out of bed.

She’s probably been up for quite a few hours now, and I’d be surprised if she was even still in the apartment. Groaning, I follow suit and climb out of bed. I’d damn well better get going because I still need to figure out what I’m going to do with the sexy-as-hell vampire out in the apartment.

The hunter can go straight to hell for all I care, but Elijah—I have a feeling I’m going to still need him…for now.

After splashing some water on my face and using one of the extra toothbrushes Jane keeps on hand—thank you, SAM’s Club bulk shopping—I shrug into my jacket and step into the living room.

I’m expecting Elijah and Jack, but all I get is Elijah.

An eyeful of his bare chest as he sits in the chair and stitches his torn shirt. His gaze lifts to me, and he grins. “What? Never seen a guy sew before?”

“You’re sewing up your shirt,” I say. “Why?”

“I love this one. Got it at one of their final concerts.”

“You loved Nirvana?”

He shakes his head. “Love. No ‘d’. They’ll always be present tense to me.” He stands, pulling the now-repaired shirt over his head.

“Impressive.”

“Glad you like what you see.”

I don’t reply, just shake my head and grab a bottle of water from Jane’s refrigerator. “Where’s Jack?”

“Took off about the same time Jane did. Told her he had things to take care of.”

“I told him I would kill him if I ever saw him again. Probably best he was gone before I woke up. I’d hate to stain Jane’s carpet. Where are you going?”

Elijah chuckles. “Back to my apartment. Cleaners should have come by.”

“Shit. I completely forgot about that. I’m surprised I didn’t get a call about the homicides. When should the cleaners have discovered the bodies?”

“Not those kinds of cleaners,” he reminds me.

“Ah, yes. The supernatural cover-up squad. I wonder, why haven’t I heard of them before?”

“Because if they’ve gotten to a scene before police, there won’t be anything to find. No reason to hear about them.”

“Interesting.” I make a mental note to investigate it more thoroughly. A supernatural cover-up squad? That would be a hell of a handy thing to have around.

Then again, I doubt they’d take too kindly to cleaning up after a hunter. “You sure it’s safe?” I ask him, and he grins.

“Worried about me, Hunter?”

“Worried I won’t get my answers. You still haven’t told me everything.”

Something flashes over his face—disappointment maybe?—I’m not entirely sure, but his features fall for just a fraction of a second before the grin returns.

“Fair enough. I’ll be in touch.” He moves to the door. “Try not to die today.”

“You too.”

Then he’s gone. Out to do whatever the hell it is vampires that can Day Walk do in the middle of the day. Maybe he goes to strip clubs or spends his afternoons playing video games. Chuckling, I lock the door up behind me and head downstairs to the lobby.

A video game playing, strip club attending, day-walking, Nirvana loving, half witch-half vampire. What a fucking combo.

Then again, who am I to talk? I’m a homicide detective, a hunter, and obsessed with Skittles. Seriously, I already told Jane that when I die, I want to be buried with a year’s supply just in case.

Ramirez is waiting at the curb, so I head right outside and take the coffee he offers me as soon as I climb in.

“Thanks,” I murmur, taking a sip and nearly groaning when the bitter liquid hits my tongue.

“Went and checked out the site of that explosion.”

“Bad?”

“Hell yeah. I’m surprised you survived.” He pulls away from the curb and moves into the flow of traffic, heading back toward my apartment.

“Same.”

“I told the captain we needed to meet with her this afternoon. She needs to be brought up to speed.”

Dammit. “You’re probably right.”

“Someone’s trying to kill you, Rainey. We can’t not report this.”

“I know.” As much as I hate to bring them into this, the department resources could be useful in figuring out who is trying to kill me. After all, they may be vampires, but they still have to function in society.

Even bloodsuckers have driver’s licenses.

Ramirez clears his throat and makes a right onto my street. “How’s Elijah doing? Can’t imagine being nearly blown up was on his activity list for your date night.”

“You could say that again. He knows what I am though, so I don’t know that it came as that huge of a surprise.”

“What?” Ramirez chuckles. “We are kind of our own breed, aren’t we?”

“You have no idea.” He pulls into a spot facing my apartment. It puts him right between the alley where I nearly died and the building. Glancing back, I scan the shadows for any movement. “I’ll be out in ten. If you text me the address, I’ll meet you there.”

“You’re going to take your bike?”

“I’ll scan it first.”

Ramirez’s mouth flattens. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I need to be able to get places, Ramirez. I know to be more careful now.”

He’s quiet for a moment before nodding. “Fine, but I’m waiting here until you pull out. You can follow me.”

“Deal. Look at us compromising.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Be out in fifteen.” Coffee in hand, I move inside the lobby and head for the stairwell. The elevator dings, so I glance back and am offered a smile from Mrs. Mollie, the elderly woman who lives down the hall from me.

“That’s one handsome fella you’ve got, Rainey.” She winks at me.

“Who?”

“The man upstairs. He’s definitely worth bringing coffee home for.” She winks again and disappears out into the mid-morning sun.

My heart begins to race, and I reach into my holster to withdraw my private firearm. Holding it at the ready, I slowly climb the steps up to the second floor of the building. My apartment is right near the stairs, so I stop just inside the door and close my eyes, focusing only on what I can hear.

Someone drops something and curses, so I bolt out into the hall, running right into the open door of my apartment.

“Unless you want an extra hole, I suggest you come out,” I order as I scan the room, moving my weapon as though it were an extended part of my arm.

“It’s Jack.”

“What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I made myself clear?” I don’t lower my weapon, keeping it aimed at him as he straightens, setting broken glass shards on the counter.

“Wanted to check it to make sure you’d be safe.”

“I don’t believe you for even a second. What the hell are you really doing here? And you’d better start talking, I’m known for keeping my word.”

He grinds his teeth together, jaw tightening. “I wanted to talk to you without the vampire around.”

“Well, my partner is waiting for me outside, and we’ve got a dead body to deal with, so I suggest you talk fast.” I move into my bedroom, Jack on my heels. Stripping off my jacket and holster, I toss them on my bed but carry my weapon into the closet with me.

He starts to follow me, but I turn and shake my head. “You come in here, and you’re going to lose your favorite appendage.”

“Understood.” He backs out, and I shut the closet door. “You’d better start talking!” I call back at him.

“You trust him?”

“Elijah?”

“Obviously.”

I strip off my shirt and grab a clean one from a hanger. After pulling it over my head, I unlock my safe and swap weapons. My gaze travels over my hunter kit, and as an afterthought, I pull out a shot of adrenaline and shove it into my pocket.

Apparently, I can’t be too careful these days.

My badge goes over my neck, dangling from a chain, and I lock the safe behind me. “He’s a vampire,” I tell Jack. “So, no. But to be fair, I don’t trust you either.”

Jack crosses both muscled arms over his chest as I walk into my bathroom and toss my hair into a ponytail. “We’re the same, and you don’t trust me.”

“Have you ever met a hunter who wasn’t a bloodthirsty bastard?”

“Yes. Delaney.”

“Besides my sister. And, before you act like a smartass, I’m not talking about me either.”

He sighs. “No, I suppose I haven’t.”

“I’ve been nearly killed by hunters three times in my life. I ended up killing one of them. We may hunt creatures we’ve deemed monsters, but when you really look closely, we’re not much different.”

He doesn’t respond, and I know it’s because he realizes I’m right.

“I only just met you, and you’ve already lied to me. So really, you don’t have much room to talk about who I can and can’t trust.”

“You nearly killed me, and I’m planning on setting that aside.”

I narrow my gaze on his face. “You pissed me the fuck off.”

Jack glares a moment longer before sighing and running a hand through his dark hair. “He’s a vampire, Rainey.”

“Who knew my sister.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Because of some email? How the hell do you know it wasn’t a fake? That he didn’t plant it to get you to trust him?”

I hadn’t given that theory much thought. Mainly because I want the emails to be from Delaney. Because if they are, it means a piece of her is still alive in my world. And right now, that’s what I need more than anything.

“Look, I’m going to trust Elijah until I don’t anymore.” I shrug back into my holster and stick my service weapon into it. Then, I pull my leather jacket on and grab the keys to my bike still hanging by my front door. “I’m sorry if you don’t get it, but I need answers, and Elijah is the best way for me to get them.”

Jack crosses the living room toward me. He’s handsome, the strong set of his jaw combined with piercing eyes rivaled only by the vampire we were just talking about. I can see why my sister cared for him.

“I loved Delaney,” he says. “She was who I wanted to spend my life with.”

“I’ll never forgive you for her death. You should have stopped it.”

“That’s fine. Because I haven’t stopped blaming myself since the night she died.”

“Good.” It’s harsh, but he should have been with her. Maybe then, she’d still be around.

“Stay safe,” Jack says, stepping around me. “Let me know if you need help.”

“Not a fucking chance. I never want to see you again, Jack. So if you want to survive, stay the hell out of my way.”

He doesn’t say another word, just passes me as I step out and lock the door. Thankfully, he heads for the elevator while I take the back stairs down to the garage.

I believe that Jack loved my sister. And I believe he didn’t mean for her to die.

But that doesn’t make her death or his part in it any easier to swallow.

26

Rainey

I park my bike right beside Ramirez’s car. Yellow tape is stretched out in a square, police cruisers and an ambulance blocking the public’s view of the dead.

If it was a jump from a high-rise? I can completely understand the extra effort. After flashing our badges, we duck beneath the yellow tape and step into the blocked-off area. A body lies in the center of the square, blood leaking out from beneath the yellow sheet placed over the top.

Another layer of protection for the public. Everyone thinks they want to see a dead body until they do. You’re never the same after that.

“What do we have?” Ramirez asks Anderson, one of the officers near the center.

“Looks like a jumper.”

“Do we know who it is?” I ask, kneeling and lifting the yellow sheet just enough to get a glance at the deceased. “Or who he is?”

I can barely recognize the person as human, but I do a quick gum check just to be sure. No freckles, at least none that I can see.

“Eli Walker. Lives on the fourteenth floor.”

Eli? Something about the name—the coincidental closeness to Elijah hits me hard. Though, I can’t decide whether it’s nerves or based on actual instinct.

“He had to have fallen farther than fourteen floors.” Ramirez glances up.

“We think he came from the roof. Officers checked it out, but there was no sign of a struggle there or in his apartment.”

“Any witnesses?” Ramirez asks, jotting down notes on his pad.

“Two. A husband and wife were walking by when he impacted.”

“Where are they?”

Officer Anderson gestures off to the side where two red-faced people stand, holding each other. “Over there.”

I get to my feet. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” Ramirez sighs as we walk over to the couple. “I’m Detective Ramirez. This is Detective Astor. Can you tell us what happened?”

“We were just out for our walk,” the husband starts, and the wife begins crying again. “We were almost home when he—when he fell.”

“Do you know an Eli Walker?” Ramirez asks, and the woman gasps.

“Eli? That’s Eli?” The woman breaks down, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.

“I take it you knew him,” I ask, and the husband nods.

“He’s our next-door neighbor. Or was,” the man adds sadly.

“Did Eli seem troubled lately? Any reason he might have jumped?”

“No. Not Eli. We just had him over for dinner last night.” The woman’s voice cracks, and she takes a deep breath. “He just landed a new job at some high-profile firm. He’s a lawyer.”

“Is he married? Girlfriend?”

“Divorced. His wife moved back home to Connecticut last year.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Ramirez pulls out a card. “If you think of anything else, give us a call.”

“Thank you.” The husband takes the card and turns his wife away from the scene, guiding her up a path toward the apartment.

Eli Walker. It wouldn’t have bothered me before I discovered someone wanted me dead. Prior to the trailer shooting, I would have chalked it up to a coincidence. But now, after already being lured to one crime scene, I wonder if this victim wasn’t thrown as a way to draw me out.

And using a name close to the vampire who’d already saved me twice?

“I want to check out his place,” I tell Ramirez.

“Then, let’s go.”

Since it’s so far up, I swallow my nerves and take the elevator alongside Ramirez. After what feels like forever trapped inside a tin box, it dings, and the doors open on the fourteenth floor. Officers are already here, and yellow tape marks off Eli’s apartment. We flash our badges and move inside, stepping into a pristinely decorated space.

“Guy must have hired someone,” Ramirez comments as he pulls on latex gloves.

Slipping on a matching pair, I turn in a slow circle. “He definitely has an eye for Celtic designs.” I study the Celtic knot artwork, the ancient weapons decorating the walls. Another coincidence seeing as how Elijah is Irish.

I move through the apartment, making my way to the kitchen where a stack of envelopes has been tossed onto the granite. They’re out of place, considering the rest of the pristine apartment. Nearly all bills plus one solicitation for a new cable company. Basically, nothing exciting, so I move on.

The balcony is closed, the sliding door locked. I open it, searching for a way our victim could have locked it from the outside, but there’s no access point.

“Nothing in the bedroom. Doesn’t look like this guy was up for leaving anything out of place. My drill sergeants would have loved how tight his bed was made.”

“No way he could have locked this from the outside,” I say, gesturing to the door.

“Windows are all still locked.” Ramirez shakes his head and removes his gloves.

“My best guess is he jumped from the roof.”

“Same. Guess we’d better get up there too.” Ramirez sighs and takes another look around the apartment.

My senses are enhanced, my blood pumping. Something doesn’t feel right, but there’s nothing out of place. At least, not that I’ve noticed. Still, there’s a voice nagging at me, telling me that I’m not seeing the whole picture.

We leave the apartment and take the elevator up to the top floor. Then, we climb the steps up to the roof access. The doors open to yellow tape covering the threshold.

Ramirez pulls it down. Pea gravel crunches beneath my boots as I step into the bright sun. “He must have fallen from over here.” As I take my first step, three black crows drop onto the ledge in front of us. The bastards have been here every time I’ve nearly died.

I glance over at Ramirez to tell him we need to get the hell off this roof. He stops, and something crunches. An extra step that neither of us took.

“Get inside!” I roar at Ramirez as four men race out from behind the air conditioning ducts.

Ramirez backs away and draws his weapon. “Get down!” he yells seconds before he fires.

I don’t even have time to tell him our bullets are useless here.

Drawing my dagger, I send it flying, end over end, until it meets the target—sticking right between the eyes of the man nearest to my partner. With a roar, I race forward and drop to my hands, somersaulting and slamming the soles of both boots into the chest of another vamp.

He flies back and disappears over the edge of the roof. Seconds later, screams echo up from below.

“I shot him!” Ramirez yells, and I glance over just in time to see him wide-eyed and staring at the man sporting four new bullet holes.

"Get inside!" I order again, and he nods, turning on his heel. “Bolt the door!”

“Not without you!”

“Just fucking do it!” I reach down and pull another dagger from my boot before facing off with the three vampires who are fucking somehow out in the middle of the day. “I’ve got these assholes.”

Ramirez runs up beside me. “No way in hell I’m leaving you.”

I mutter a curse under my breath. “Then take this.” Handing him my blade, I reach back and grab my last one. “Don’t lose it. Aim for the heart if you can.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t question me, just nods.

“Hello, plaything,” one of the men growls.

“That’s sexist, and I’m offended,” I say. Then I race forward. I slam into one of the vamps, knocking him back. He bucks, rolling me over, and slams his fist into my jaw. Bones crunch, and copper fills my mouth.

But I don’t pause to accept the pain. I thrust my hips up, rolling us both over, and jam my blade into his throat. Blood sprays me as I rip it out, spinning just in time to see the vampire lean over and sink his teeth into my partner’s neck.

“No!” I roar and launch myself over. Right before I reach him, he pulls back and grins, blood dripping from his mouth. My shoulder slams into his side, and I knock him off Ramirez toward the edge of the roof.

In a massively unfortunate turn of events, he winds up on top of me. His fist impacts with my already broken jaw, but I bring my blade up into his side. He yells and bares fangs.

A gun goes off.

One shot.

Two shots.

The man above me jerks before getting to his feet, growling as he turns to face Ramirez.

I lift my leg and sweep his feet out from under him, and the last attacker falls over the railing and down to the ground below.

“He-he fucking bit me.”

After getting to my feet, I rush toward Ramirez. He’s pale, blood dripping from his jugular where the vampire bit down. Thankfully, the bastard’s venom seals the wound so their victims don’t bleed to death right away.

So nice of them, right?

“I saw that.”

“What the hell were those things? There’s no fucking way they were—”

The roof access door bursts open, and five uniformed officers pour onto the roof, weapons drawn.

“They’re all dead,” I tell them.

“What happened?”

“They were waiting for us when we got up here.” Ramirez hands me my blade, and I lean down to slide it into the holster tucked away in my boot.

“Nearly took Astor over the side of the fucking roof with him.”

All eyes dart to me. “I’m fine,” I assure them. “Let’s get these assholes ID’d as quickly as possible.”

“You’ve got it.” The nearest officer holsters his weapon and begins to bark orders at the others who came up with him.

I turn, breathing deeply despite the throbbing in the side of my face. It hurts like hell and will be bruised for a good day or so, I’m sure. The bones are already knitting back together, the sharp pain shooting through my jaw and down the side of my throat into my collarbone.

“We need to get you to a paramedic,” I tell Ramirez.

He shakes his head in disbelief. “He fucking bit me.”

“He did.”

“His teeth—”

“They were long,” I say, guiding him toward the stairs. Humans have brushes with the supernatural constantly. You know when you’re standing outside in the dark and get that sensation that someone’s watching you? How every hair on the back of your neck stands on end, and you walk—sometimes run—as quickly as you can back inside to perceived safety?

Well, most of the time, there is something there—lurking in the shadows, just waiting for a chance to pounce. Most of the time, humans don’t even realize they’ve barely escaped death by simply taking another route or moving further beneath the light of a streetlamp.

But brushes like what Ramirez just experienced are fewer and far between. Typically, humans don’t get that close and live to tell about it.

We take the elevator down in complete silence, and by the time we step out onto the street, our captain is pulling up in her black Jeep.

“He was attacked,” I tell the paramedics through the uninjured side of my mouth. I’m sure it makes one hell of an impression.

“You look—”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Astor, what the hell happened?”

Paloma Reynolds strolls over to me, her black heels clicking against the concrete. She looks the same as she does every day, black slacks, white shirt, black suit jacket. Her hair is always pinned up at the back of her head in a tight bun, not a single dark strand out of place.

It’s impressive. Then again, she sits behind a desk all damn day.

“We were attacked on the roof.”

Her dark brown gaze lifts to the sky. “Who attacked you?”

“They were waiting for Ramirez and me when we got upstairs.”

“Any clue why?”

“N—”

“Someone’s trying to kill Astor.”

Motherclucker. I turn to Ramirez. “We don’t know that for sure.”

His neck bandaged, he winces when he nods. “Yes, we do. This isn’t the first time you’ve been targeted.”

“What does he mean?” Captain Reynolds tilts her head to the side.

I sigh. Guess there’s no way I’m getting out of this now. “There was the shooting when we were at that Darrell Smith’s house. Then someone put a bomb on my—” Cringe. —“boyfriend’s car last night.”

“So you were the target in that explosion. Any particular reason you weren’t there, waiting for help?”

“Someone pulled me from the wreckage, took me to try to get help.”

“Your boyfriend?”

I shake my head. “The guy thought he was already dead.”

“I read that report this morning. There were no casualties.”

“I know. The man thought he was dead. He ended up being fine. Was just unconscious, and the person who pulled me out apparently didn’t know how to check a pulse.”

Captain Reynolds bites down on her bottom lip before glancing back up at the roof. “And you think tonight was a target, too.” It wasn’t a question, so I don’t bother answering. “I think it’s probably best if you sit out for a bit.”

“What? No!”

“We need to find out who’s targeting you, Rainey.” She uses my first name, a power move to be sure. Trying to scold me like a parent would an unruly child. “Ramirez almost died today. If you aren’t going to do it for you, do it for him. If you’re a target, you’ll make him one too.”

Dammit, she’s right.

“Just take some time off, lay low. We’ll see if we can’t figure out what the hell is going on.”

I nod.

“And Rainey? If you don’t stay out of this, I’ll put you in police protection.”

I grind my teeth together. “Understood.”

“Good. Go home, both of you. We’ll get this taken care of.”

Ramirez and I walk side by side toward our vehicles. He stops right in front of his car, his hand only inches from the door handle, when he turns to me. “He bit me,” he repeats again. “You saw that, right?”

“He did. I saw the whole thing.” My heart aches for him because I know what he’s going through. Not firsthand, but I’ve seen humans spiral before. It’s a slippery slope, and I wish more than anything I could just come clean about it all.

But not knowing is a hell of a lot safer. At least, for now.

“Why would he bite me? And the one I shot—he just kept coming.”

“I have no clue what those guys were on,” I lie. “Get some rest. I’m sure you’ll feel better after Kamie dotes on you. Call me if you get any updates?”

“You’re probably right. Just a crazy-ass afternoon is all. I’ll let ya know if anything comes in.” He waves and climbs into his car while I fire up my bike and pull out onto the street. I have no damned clue where I’m even going. Reynolds is right. Anyone around me is a target right now.

Jane could be killed if someone thinks that’s how they can get to me.

And with everything else I’ve already lost, I don’t know that I could stand losing someone else.

I truly don’t think I’d survive it.

27

Elijah

Dressed in fresh slacks and a button-down shirt, I take the elevator up to Rainey’s apartment. Since she’s not answering her phone, I have no damned clue if she’s going to want to meet tonight, and the not knowing is bothering me more than I care to admit.

It shouldn’t. She’s not my responsibility, and yet, after three failed attempts on her life—the alley, shooting, and then the car last night—I can’t help but want to be with her at all times. To protect her until she no longer needs it.

There’s a hell of a lot at stake right now. Just one being the emails Delaney set up for her to receive. My brain’s been racing over what important information she might have for her and so far? I’ve got a whole hell of a lot of nothing.

The elevator dings, and I step off, instantly turning toward Rainey’s apartment. The walk is short, and I knock lightly on the door as soon as I’m in front of it. I checked the garage, and her motorcycle is downstairs, so I know she’s home.

There’s no answer, so I knock again.

Answer the bloody door, Rainey.

Still no answer. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my lockpick set and get to work on her door. I could simply force the knob to turn, but that would break the lock, and there’s no way in hell she won’t kick my ass for that one. So instead, I take the route that feels as though it puts hours between us rather than sheer seconds.

The lock clicks, so I shove the door open and walk inside, my adrenaline surging. Why didn’t she answer? Preparing myself for the worst, I move further into the apartment, heart thudding heavily against my chest. There’s no blood in the air, no sign of a struggle, but it doesn’t ease my nerves.

If she’s dead—a blade whirs past my ear, and I move to the side just in time to avoid another. “What the fuck?”

“Elijah?”

“Yes, who the hell else would I be? The damned Easter Bunny?”

Light floods the apartment, and I’m treated to the sinfully sexy sight of Rainey wearing nothing but a pair of underwear and a white tank top. It’s fucking beautiful, even more so given her brown hair loose and wild around her face.

“First of all, the Easter Bunny’s not Irish. You’d more likely be a Leprechaun. And second, why the fuck are you in my apartment at midnight?”

“You didn’t answer your phone.”

“I was asleep.” She turns, and I catch the sight of a fading bruise on the side of her cheek. Rushing forward, I’ve got my fingers brushing against her delicate skin before I can stop myself.

She shivers.

Something surges through me—a desire so strong it nearly knocks me to my knees. Still, I don’t remove my hand as I run my fingers along her strong jaw. “What happened?”

“I was attacked on a roof at a crime scene.”

“By who?”

“Vampires.”

Narrowing my gaze, I stare down at her. “Tonight?”

She shakes her head. “About ten-thirty this morning.”

“But that’s not possible. There are no other Day Walkers in Billings.”

“Apparently, your information is off.” She pulls away, and I let my hand drop. “Because they sure as hell were vampires.”

“You’re sure?” If there are other Day Walkers in town, this could mean the start of something bigger than a mere hunter’s bounty. If they’re here, it could mean war.

“They took a bite out of Ramirez and nearly threw me off a roof. Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Fuck. Is your partner okay?”

“Shaken up, not quite sure why someone he shot four times managed to sink his teeth into him.”

“Understandable. You going to tell him the truth?”

She laughs darkly and turns away. I can’t help myself. My gaze drops to the perfect ass barely covered by a small piece of black cotton. It’s fucking delicious, and to use her words—I want desperately to sink my teeth into her.

But not to drink.

No, I’m thinking something a hell of a lot less like eating and more like fucking until we’re both too exhausted to worry about the shit storm brewing around us.

She stretches up and grabs a glass from the cabinet near her fridge then pulls down a bottle of whiskey. “Want some?” she asks, turning toward me.

“That’d be great, thanks.” Even if I didn’t want more, I still would have said yes if only to see her stretch up again.

Fuck me. A vampire attracted to a hunter? My ancestors are turning over in their fucking graves right now. But it’s more than that—isn’t it? I crave her, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. I want her blood, her body, her essence.

I want it all.

She hands me a glass, and I tilt it up, downing the liquid in one gulp. Rainey arches a perfectly shaped dark eyebrow and hands me the bottle. “Help yourself,” she says and moves past me into the living room.

I pour some into the glass, drink it quickly, then refill and follow her into the living room. “I should tell you that when I went to the Gale nest, their leader told me he’d been contacted by someone—a woman—who promised him a seat on their council should he manage to take you out.”

“Which council?”

“No fucking clue. There’s no way the vampires or immortals would give up a seat on the Council for the mere task of killing a hunter.”

“Gee, thanks,” she replies dryly.

“Not what I meant.”

“He couldn’t tell you anything else?”

“No, and I asked one last time before ripping his head off.”

“Thanks for doing that, by the way. Saved me some vengeance on the asshole. I was planning on seeking him out at the club as soon as I got a chance.”

“You’re welcome. What are your plans now that you know you’re being targeted?”

“My captain doesn’t want me to come in. Thinks it’s best for me to lay low until they figure out who’s coming after me.”

“Probably smart,” I agree. Keeping her out of sight is a smart move.

“Except you and I both know they won’t figure it out.”

“If they’re killing people to get to you though—is it not better to follow your captain’s orders?”

She glares at me. “I know she’s right. The man in the trailer, he was used specifically to draw me out. First at the club, then when I went to his home. Then today—I just don’t know why a perfectly happy man would kill himself. And the coincidences? Too many to chock up to sheer chance.”

“What coincidences?” I ask, and she stares over at me. She draws her bottom lip in and bites down. Rainey is not used to talking to people—to including someone else in her thought process. I’m determined to change that. “Look, if we’re going to work together, to try to figure out what’s going on with your sister’s emails and who’s after you, you’re going to have to trust me.”

Her eyes widen. “The emails! I didn’t even check today.” Rainey shoves her glass at me and jumps to her feet. As she rushes into her bedroom, I follow, setting the glasses on the counter as I pass by.

She’s standing inside the dark room, phone in hand. The light from the screen is the only thing illuminating her features, and it somehow makes her appear delicate when Rainey is anything but.

“Anything?” I ask, and she nods.

“But it doesn’t make any sense. What the hell is up with the cryptic emails?”

“May I?” I hold out my hand, and she hesitates only for a second before handing it over. Hey, that’s progress.

R-

By now, I hope you’ve read my last email. It’s important that you read them in order, so if you haven’t, get your ass back and do it now.

There are people out there, people hunting you for what you are. And not just because you’re a hunter. It’s much more complicated than that. To find answers, go to the place we used to pass as kids. The place we said we would never enter.

There, you will find more of what you seek.

-D

“I mean, ‘more of what you seek’? What the hell does that even mean?” Rainey flops back onto her mattress and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Are you all right?”

“My head hurts. Had my jaw shattered today.”

Anger burns inside me, a slow and steady fire being stoked each time she’s injured. I know there’s nothing I can do to change the past, and even as much as I want to go back and kill the assholes all over again…unfortunately, it’s not possible.

So, I do what I can to help. Reaching over, I set her phone down on the nightstand and stand in front of her. “May I help you?”

Rainey moves her hand to peer up at me in the dark. “Help with what?”

“Your headache.”

“And how are you planning on doing that?”

“Fuck, Rainey. Haven’t we established I mean you no harm?”

“You’ll excuse my hesitation seeing as how every vampire in the city seems to want me dead.”

“The world,” I clarify. “If Day Walkers are here, that must mean you’ve caught the attention of the Council.”

“Well, isn’t that peachy? They’re taking notice.”

“They are. Now, can I help you?”

Rainey sits up and nods slightly. I strip off my jacket and undo the cuffs of my shirt, rolling the sleeves up and climbing onto her mattress. I lean back against her headboard and stretch my legs out. “Come here.”

She raises an eyebrow. “What are you getting at?”

“For fuck’s sake, Rainey, I’m not going to eat you.”

“It’s not eating I’m worried about.” She stares at me, and I groan.

“I’m not going to try and fuck you either.”

She swallows hard, her pulse increasing, and I wonder if she realizes the intense arousal she’s putting off because my fucking body sure does. Finally, she climbs up further and turns, sliding back between my legs, stiff as a statue.

“You need to relax,” I tell her as I reach up and run my fingers down the back of her neck. Slowly, I brush her hair to the side.

“That’s easier said than done.”

“This won’t work unless you do.”

She reaches over beside us, slipping her hand beneath the pillow and leaving it there. I know what she’s grabbed, and while I don’t blame her, I hate that she still doesn’t trust me.

I need her to trust me. And not just because of what we may be facing. But for my own sanity as well.

One hand drops lower on her back, applying firm pressure to the center of her spine. With my other hand, I cup the back of her neck, pressing the tips of my fingers at the joints of her jaw. My hand is large enough that I can reach both at the same time, so I begin to knead the skin. Applying pressure and massaging at the same time.

Within seconds, Rainey is relaxing into my touch. A sigh leaves her lips, a fucking aphrodisiac that goes straight to my cock. I take a deep breath, attempting to slow my already racing heart. Typically, it beats so damned fast I can barely feel it, but right now, sitting here with Rainey? It’s hammering, and I wonder if it won’t burst straight out of my ribs.

“That feels good,” she says, leaning back into me.

I clear my throat. “Easing some of your pain?”

“Yes. All of it. How are you doing that?”

“Pressure points. Tip your head up.” She does what I ask, putty in my hands, and I slip my hand around to the front of her throat then up over her face, applying pressure to the spots right in front of her ears. I have to move my other hand as she leans back, her body molding perfectly to my chest.

“Your heart, it sounds different.”

Because I’m fighting the urge to keep my promise when all I want to do is bury myself inside of you. “I’m fine.”

She arches against me, face tipped toward the ceiling so I can see her relaxed expression.

“The pain is gone,” she slurs as she yawns. Her body took a beating today—not quite like it did in the alley but enough that she still has some healing to do. Which explains her exhaustion. But before I can move and let her get to sleep, her head lulls to the side, and she drifts, her breathing becoming steady, her heart slowing down.

I drop my hand to her waist, draping my arm around her and leaning my head back against her headboard. I hold onto her, gripping her to my chest as though she may disappear. The feel of her pressed against me, it’s doing more to me than I could ever have imagined.

But I won’t do shit to change it. Rainey makes me feel alive when for so long I’ve felt like the walking corpse my kind has been portrayed as in movies for decades.

And this path that led me here, to this moment, is one I will forever cherish. Even if what I’m feeling will mean a death sentence for us both.

28

Rainey

Sunlight pouring in through my window warms my face. I open my eyes, squinting as I glance around my room. Someone shifts behind me, and I stiffen, tilting my head up and taking in Elijah’s face bathed in warm light.

Holy shit. I slept with a vampire last night.

I mean, no sex, obviously, but we shared a bed. More than that, you dumbass. I’m pressed against his chest, situated right between his legs, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear and a damned tank top.

What the hell was I thinking? In less than a week, my carefully planned life has turned into one crazy-ass experience after the other.

And let’s not even talk about the murder of crows determined to watch me die. Carefully, I reach down and grab his hand, lifting it off my waist. He shifts, but his eyes remain closed, so I move forward onto my knees to crawl off my bed.

“That’s a hell of a sight to wake up to,” he grumbles, his accent even thicker first thing in the morning.

“Don’t get used to it,” I snap back and get all the way off my bed, no longer worried about waking him.

“How do you feel?”

I roll my neck, grateful my headache is completely gone. “Fine.” Then, I step into the closet to pull out a pair of pants.

Dressing quickly, I grab my silver dagger currently sheathed in leather and stick it down into the back of my leggings. By the time I’m done, Elijah is already out of my bedroom, the door shut.

Since he’s not here, I take a minute to breathe, trying to forgive myself for sleeping so soundly despite there being a vampire in my room. Because, damn, I haven’t slept that good in years. Surrounded by his strength—his warmth—I’d slept dreamlessly and without worry.

I’m in trouble here, aren’t I?

With one last deep breath, I open the door and step into my living room. Elijah is standing in front of my coffee pot, dumping grounds into the basket and pressing brew. “Making you coffee,” he says as if it’s a totally normal thing for him to do.

“Why?”

He glances over his shoulder, ice-blue eyes narrowed curiously on my face. “Why what?”

“Why are you doing this—being this way toward me?”

“I told you.”

“You were friends with my sister, not me. So why do you keep popping up?”

He considers my question. “Because I think you deserve to live, and I worry if I don’t, you’ll die.”

His words are a massive hit to my pride. “I’ve been taking care of myself just fine for the last few years.”

“You pissed off the Vampire Council who already deemed you such a threat they sent Day Walkers after you.”

“I can take care of—”

“I didn’t finish.” Elijah turns to face me, leaning against the counter and crossing both arms over his muscled chest.

“Then please, do go on.”

“You aren’t fully aware of what you’re capable of, and that makes you a liability.”

“I’m a hunter. I’m pretty damn sure I know what that means.”

“You’re not a hunter, Rainey. You’re The Hunter. As in the last in The Bloodline.”

“I know all that.”

“But do you know what it means?”

I cross my arms, mimicking his stance. “It means I carry my family’s complete legacy within my blood. All their strength, their abilities.”

“Yes, but it’s so much more than that.” He smiles, and I get the impression he’s almost excited about this revelation he’s choosing to share with me.

“Care to elaborate?”

“I will.” The coffee pot beeps, so he turns and pulls my mug from beneath the drip spout and turns to set it on the counter in front of me. “In time.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“We have more pressing matters to deal with. That email your sister sent you. Have you figured out what it means?”

“You mean since I passed out last night and only just woke up?” Sarcasm drips from my voice, and the way his lips quirk up in a half-smile tells me he gathered it too.

“May I see it again?”

“Sure. My phone is on the nightstand.”

He moves past me and disappears into my bedroom, only to return less than a minute later, my cell in hand. “I assume you don’t wish for me to go searching for it.”

“You assume correctly.” Glaring, I hold out my hand. As soon as he hands it to me, I go into my emails and open the last one Delaney sent me.

My eyes travel over the email again, taking in every single word as I review it as though it’s my first time reading it.

R-

By now, I hope you’ve read my last email. It’s important that you read them in order, so if you haven’t, get your ass back and do it now.

There are people out there, people hunting you for what you are. And not just because you’re a hunter. It’s much more complicated than that. To find answers, go to the place we used to pass as kids. The place we said we’d never enter.

There, you will find more of what you seek.

-D

“Go to the place we used to pass as kids. The place we said we’d never enter.” I say the words out loud, hoping they might make more sense if I do as I rack my brain for the location she’s referring to.

“You have no idea where that is?” he asks and holds out his hand.

I place my cell in his palm, shivering when my fingertips brush his. My heart rate increases as I meet his intense gaze. Whatever the hell this is that I’m feeling? He’s feeling it too—I can see it.

Swallowing hard, I turn away and lift the mug to my lips.

Elijah clears his throat and studies the screen. “That place we used to pass as kids,” Elijah reads. “Any particular route you used to take?”

“No, for the most part we—” I trail off as a memory takes root, an afternoon in the rain, staring at a bright green garden shed my parents had just disappeared into. “Salem,” I say, looking up at him.

“Salem? As in Massachusetts? Salem Witch Trials?”

I nod. “We used to go there nearly every weekend with my parents and spent every summer until they died at our grandmother’s estate house.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Your family has an estate in Salem?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, I suppose we’re going to Salem.”

“Seriously? You’re going with me?”

“Yes. And I’ll tell you a bit more on the way. Get dressed, I’ll get the travel scheduled.” He pulls out his cell and turns away from me.

I should argue, should tell him those emails were meant for me, but as my heart begins to pound, and I stare down at the email, I realize I really don’t want to do this alone. I haven’t been back to Salem since the summer I turned twelve. My family’s estate was transferred into my name upon the death of my sister, but I never wanted to go back and walk those haunted halls.

Seems my sister had other plans.

29

Elijah

“Well, that was the easiest time I’ve ever had in an airport,” Rainey jokes as we step off my jet and onto the tarmac of a private airport just outside of Salem.

“Glad to hear it. Thanks,” I add to the pilot.

“No problem. We’ll be ready whenever you are.”

“Sounds good.” I lift my bag and reach for Rainey’s, but she pulls it out of reach.

“I can carry my own bag.”

“Just trying to offer you full service of Hawthorne Airlines,” I joke despite my bruised pride. I have no fucking clue what else I have to do to get her to trust me. Obviously, I don’t plan on killing her, or I would have already.

We walk toward the car, and I pop open the trunk, tossing my bag inside and stepping away so Rainey could drop hers in. As soon as she does, I close it and walk around to the side of the car. When I open the door and move to the side, she just stares at me.

“Shit, Rainey, I know you can open the damned door by yourself, but would you just get the hell in?”

She grins at me. “I just wanted to see what you’d do. The whole fake joke thing to try and please me? Not interested.”

“Noted.”

She slides in, and I follow.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hawthorne. Where are we headed?”

Rainey leans forward and hands the driver a piece of paper. “Here,” she says, and he takes it, nodding.

“I know the place well. It holds a bit of history for us.”

“Your family’s estate?” I ask, and Rainey turns toward me, all earlier humor gone from her beautiful face.

She nods.

A hunter’s estate.

The car pulls off the tarmac, and I watch Rainey as she stares out the window, studying the scenery as we pass.

Salem is beautiful. One of the most historically relevant locations for supernaturals, due to its bloodied history. Most humans don’t realize it, but the Salem Witch Trials weren’t the start of the revolution against us.

No, the bloody war goes back much further than that, centuries even if you take in the rest of the world. The ground here is so full of energy I can feel it in my bones, and I’m sure Rainey can as well, given her heritage.

Though I doubt she realizes what it is she’s feeling.

“Have you ever been here?” she asks, turning toward me.

I’m taken aback momentarily by the way the sun shines off her features, illuminating them in its bright glow. It’s fucking beautiful and hits me like a punch to the gut. My fingers itch to reach for her, to pull her against me so I can feel her.

I clench my hands into fists. “Yes. Many times. Though, it’s been quite a while.”

“How long?”

I glance at the driver, who runs a human car service. I very much doubt he’d take too kindly to me mentioning it’s been at least a century. “A few years.”

“Well, we welcome you back,” the driver adds. “Miss? What about you?”

“It’s been quite a few years for me too.”

“And you know the Astor family? Agatha was a wonderful woman. Very kind, gave back to the community whenever she could.”

“Agatha was my grandmother,” Rainey says, and the man’s eyes practically bulge out of his skull.

“You’re an Astor? Unless you’ve changed your name, of course,” he adds, his gaze darting nervously to me in the rearview.

“No. Still Astor.”

“That’s great too, of course. Keeping your last name. Oh, miss, it is so wonderful to meet you.”

“Thanks.” She doesn’t bother to correct him, so I don’t either.

Rainey falls silent again, and I study the man’s expression in the mirror, searching for anything that goes beyond someone excited to meet a member of one of Salem’s founding families.

“Here we go,” he says a few minutes later as the car pulls onto a private drive. Gravel crunches beneath the wheels, and we stop just outside a large black gate with an A embedded in the iron.

“We’ll walk from here,” Rainey says and climbs out. I follow, and the driver gets out right after me, walking around to the back of the car. He’s a short man, standing an inch below Rainey, and when he looks up at her, it’s with total adoration.

“It truly was so wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Astor.”

“Miss,” she corrects with a glare in my direction as though I told the man we were married.

“Miss Astor. Your family has been such a wonderful part of our community, and it just hasn’t been as bright since your grandmother passed on.”

“Thank you.” Her smile is kind, but her tone betrays a layer of sadness hidden beneath appreciation for the driver’s kind words.

“You’re truly welcome. If you need anything, anything at all, please let me know. I’m always so happy to help out a friend. And the Astors have been friends of my family for generations. Generations,” he repeats. “Anytime and anything.” He’s talking so bloody fast I can barely keep up with him.

“Thank you, and we will.” Rainey takes her bag from the trunk, so I reach in and grab mine before joining her at the fence. Then, she reaches into her pocket and withdraws an iron key the size of her palm.

“What are we waiting for?”

“The driver needs to be out of sight,” Rainey tells me with a forced smile as she waves. Once his car is out of sight, she turns and unlocks the gate.

“Why did we have to wait?”

She sets her bag down. “Because.” Gripping the key in both hands, she pulls it apart, revealing a hidden blade. Then, she runs it over her palm.

Copper tang fills the air, the scent of it a powerful roar in my head, an invasion of every single fucking sense within me, and I jump back, putting space between us before I fucking lose my mind. “What the fuck are you doing?” With no adrenaline, no immediate threat, there’s nothing to distract me from the allure of the crimson in her veins.

“You can’t get in without my blood,” she says, stepping toward me. “My grandmother had the property warded against supernaturals. The only way around that is to give you my blessing.” She reaches me.

My body shakes, desire for her, for her blood, nearly overwhelming me. Then, she stretches up and runs her injured palm over my cheek.

If I thought the scent of her blood was overwhelming, it’s nothing to the blood-hammering, stomach-twisting, cock-hardening, potent assault racing through my body as she spreads it over my skin.

“You okay?” she asks. I barely hear her over the sound of the blood pounding in my ears as I fight to gain control over myself like I had to do the night she nearly died.

But this is nothing like that.

My hunger is strong—stronger than anything I’ve ever felt, and before I realize it, I’m reaching for her. Hand cupping the back of her neck, I yank her toward me and slam my mouth onto hers.

She bucks, fighting against my hold for just a moment before she sighs and grips my arms with both hands. Rainey opens beneath me, her tongue slipping into my mouth, giving me a full fucking taste of the woman beyond the hunter.

Delicate.

Deadly.

I fucking devour her mouth, spinning her and pinning her to the gate with my body pressed against her. My cock is beyond hard, my body ready to claim the woman as my mate even if my brain tells me what a horrible fucking idea that would be. None of that matters now. I want to claim her, possess her, just as she owns me.

My hands roam down her body, gripping her ass and lifting her as she wraps her legs around my waist. Her hands are in my hair, tugging as she gives me back every demanding moment of this kiss.

She nips my lip, and I growl in response, the caged beast within straining against the chains I’ve used for so long.

The gate creaks, and I pull away, releasing her mouth as I slide her down my body. Our breaths are little more than ragged gasps, each perfectly in tune with the other, and I stare down at her, unable to tear my gaze from her swollen lips.

Lips I’d just tasted. And already, I want more.

“What the hell was that?” she demands, shoving me back. I stumble back two steps and run a hand through my hair. The farther I get from her, the easier it is to contain myself because, fuck me, her blood is driving me wild.

“Your blood,” I choke out, strangled words barely audible over the sound of our breathing. “I can’t help it.” My gaze flicks to her wide eyes. “With it on me like this—”

She nods in understanding, though I don’t think she fully grasps how much strength it’s taking to not rip her clothes off and fuck her right here. And based on the way she’s responding to me? The arousal coming off her in waves? She’s just as into this as I am.

Finally, she slips the key into the lock on the gate and swings it open.

After lifting her bag, she steps through, so I grab mine and follow.

Magic blasts me, a potent repellent that nearly shoves me back outside the threshold even with her blood marking my cheek.

“It will feel better after a few minutes,” Rainey tells me.

Which is good fucking news since, right now, it feels as though my body is being ripped to pieces. “This is powerful magic,” I comment as she locks the gate behind us.

“Yes, my grandmother had powerful friends.” She continues walking, her tone letting me know she’s not quite interested in conversation at the moment, so I focus instead on not letting the contents of my stomach come back up.

Because shit, whatever power this is—it’s making me want to hurl.

Large trees line the gravel drive, and as we get closer, I can feel the magic waning. It rolls off me, water on a blade rather than my body soaking it up like a towel.

Rainey’s blood is affecting me more than I care to admit—as evidenced by my actions a few minutes ago. Even now, I can feel it weighing heavily on my skin, and I know that if I don’t get it washed off quickly, there’s no telling what will happen.

I can only hold myself back for so fucking long. “Do I have to keep your blood on me?”

“Not once we reach the house.”

We round a corner, and I stop in my tracks, dread churning in my gut. “What the fuck happened here?”

30

Rainey

This is the first time I’ve seen the devastation left behind after the attack that killed my grandmother. The fuckers who attacked her broke in, killed her, then burned the place to the ground to keep any of us from recovering the old texts she kept in her library.

Charred brick juts up in places where tall walls once stood. The family home that housed generations of Astors for centuries is nothing but a crumbling pile of rubble. Trees overhang, years of being left alone has left the grounds in overgrowth with grass and shrubs overtaking most of what remains.

“What the hell happened here?” Elijah repeats.

I glance over at him. His hair is still mussed from my fingers, and my mouth tingles from our kiss. That reaction—I wasn’t prepared for it. “They burned it to the ground when they killed her,” I tell him dryly.

My sister showed me pictures from when she flew out here. I was still in the academy, so I hadn’t been able to leave. That, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. From what I’d remembered of my grandmother, we didn’t get along all that well.

She always regarded me with coolness, but I’d still loved coming here and being around all this history. I start walking again and move around the base of the house.

“Who did this?”

“A local vampire clan.”

“How did they get past the wards?”

“We believe that they sent humans in first.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” But I don’t want to dwell on the past, it’s riddled with ghosts that still haunt me, and I worry if I pay them too much attention, they’re going to drag me down into the depths of hell. “It’s back here.”

“What is?”

I glance over my shoulder at him. “The entrance.”

Moving cautiously, I lead us around the back of the house and across what used to be my grandmother’s rose garden. The paths are overgrown now, so I move carefully, not wanting to spill any more of my blood.

Even if it’s a droplet from a thorn. After Elijah’s reaction—I’m not sure my clothes will last another round of that. What scares me more than that, though, is the way I answered his call. The way my body was ready for him. I would have let him take me right there against the gate had he not set me down.

And that’s dangerous.

The small garden shed comes into view, it’s once vivid walls now nothing but peeling chunks of faded grey paint. The door is unhinged, half hanging, so instead of bothering to try to open it, I grab the handle and rip it right off its hinges. Tossing it to the side, I steal another glance at Elijah.

Jaw set, eyes hard, I can see the struggle all over his face, but I can’t risk taking the blood off his cheek. Not until we’re safely inside the bunker. Until then, the magic wards could do incredible damage to him before he’s able to get safely off the property.

With a wave of my hand, I knock down the spider webs near the door and move inside. It’s musty and full of dirt and debris. As I turn in a slow circle, I can almost see my mother sitting on the stool, her dark hair up in a bun as she showed me how to properly transplant a small rose bush.

So many happy memories.

Destroyed by flames.

I reach the rusting metal cabinet in the corner and grip the side, pulling it off the wall. A set of stairs is revealed to me, but I know Elijah can’t see it.

That’s more of my grandmother’s spell work. Or rather, the spell work she paid handsomely for. My family comes from old money, but I haven’t touched a cent of it since I inherited all of it after Delaney died.

To me, it's money tainted by death. Stained with the blood of my family. I reach back and hold out a hand. Elijah eyes it with complete unease. “If you want to follow me down, you’re going to need to take my hand.”

A low growl escapes from his throat, but he links his fingers with mine. Warmth spreads up my arm and swirls in my belly as I swallow hard and begin the descent.

“Close the cabinet behind you,” I order and set my bag down on the step beside me so I can pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight.

A beam of light surrounds us, and Elijah squeaks the cabinet closed. Keeping my phone in the hand holding my bag, I lead us farther into the dark until finally, the stairs end. Setting my bag beside me, I turn around and grab the red-handled lever on the breaker box.

I flip it, and the lights above flicker on. Yellow light fills the tunnel ahead, so I turn off my light and start walking back down the hall. Elijah follows in silence, our echoing footsteps the only sound between us. Seconds later, the air vents flip on, and fresh oxygen saturates the tunnel.

Brick and mortar surround the two of us on all sides, this tunnel as old as the burnt house above. It was built at the same time and not included in any of the architectural plans, to shield it—and my family’s secrets—from prying eyes.

I open the door at the end of the hall, and we step into the study. Bookshelves span floor to ceiling on two of the four walls. The other hosts three doors, two bedrooms, and a bathroom, and behind me, on the same wall as the door we came in through, is the kitchen and dining room.

“Come here. Let’s get that blood off of you.” I toss my bag to the ground and walk into the bathroom. After flipping on the faucet, I let it run for just a few minutes before grabbing a napkin and dipping it in the water.

Elijah stands behind me, his body vibrating with whatever the hell my blood has done to him. Not sensing he’s got the strength to do it himself—I stretch up on my tiptoes and wipe his cheek. My blood comes off easily enough, so I move to the other side, wiping enough to ensure I’ve got all the crimson off his cheeks.

Then, I take the rag and shove it into the trash can, spinning the bag to seal it inside. I know it won’t fully cut off the scent for him, but I’m hoping it will dull it enough that he can get by.

Both hands on his chest, I shove him gently out into the living room. His entire body relaxes, and he breathes deeply.

I cross both arms. “Now that you’re less likely to kill me, how about you tell me what the hell that kiss was about?”

“I told you. Your blood.”

“I’ve bled plenty around vampires before. Hell, I’ve bled around you. And neither you nor they ever tried to bang me on the front lawn.”

His jaw tightens, and he glares at me. “I’ve never quite had that experience myself,” he replies tightly. “Though I will admit your blood does something to me, unlike any other. Having it smeared on my skin, it was a bit too much for me to handle.”

“So, what, you got a whiff of my blood, and all of a sudden it’s a trip to fuck-city?”

“You are different for me, Rainey. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how to fix it. You just are. The way I react to you—”

“I felt plenty of how you react to me. But if it truly was my blood, why were you able to care for me after the alley?”

“That was…different. I’m not sure why. Perhaps it had something to do with nearly losing you,” he snaps. Then, like the predator he is, he stalks toward me, and I instinctively take a step back. “You felt it too,” he says so low it’s nearly a purr. “Outside. I could sense it. Your arousal.”

“It’s been a while,” I snap back. “But even as I’d like to break my dry spell, there’s no way in hell I’m doing it with a vampire.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I hate them. And for pretty obvious reasons. He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and at this point? I’d love nothing more than to have at it right here, right now. Let him fuck me on the couch, the table, the floor. I honestly don’t even care.

Work off some of this frustration.

But for even more obvious reasons—I can’t. We can’t.

“Noted.”

But neither of us moves.

If I’m really honest with myself? It’s deeper than physical when I’m around Elijah. As if a part of me sees beyond the vampire to the man beneath. And that part of me? It wants him just as badly as my lungs crave their next breath.

“You can’t leave this bunker without my blood,” I warn him. “If you try, it will kill you.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “Understood.”

“I need to go call Jane.”

Elijah nods and lifts his bag. “Where am I staying?”

I point to the room directly ahead of us, and he turns away without another word. I head back up through the tunnel, climbing the stairs and emerging into the garden shed. With a deep breath, I pull out my phone and tap on her contact info.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Jane.”

“Where the hell are you? Did you have Skittles for breakfast again?”

Laughing, I shake my head even though she can’t see it. “No, I’m in Salem.”

“Salem?”

“Massachusetts. Since my captain put me on forced vacation, I figured why the hell not?”

“Wait a minute—forced vacation? What happened?”

Shit. I forgot to tell her. “There was an incident involving some men trying to throw me over the edge of a roof. She thinks someone’s trying to get to me.”

“What the hell, Rainey? Why didn’t you tell me? That’s some serious stuff!”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“So you take off to Massachusetts without saying goodbye? Terrible move.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m fine.”

“Are you alone?”

“No.”

“Oooh, that sounds a bit better.” Sensing the humor back in her voice, I can practically see her wiggling her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that with him, Jane. We’re friends.”

“Sure you are. Listen, I’ve got customers, but you let me know when you want to give me the juicy details. And maybe don’t die.”

“Fine. But hey, I don’t have great service. I’m staying at my grandmother’s old house, and she lived in the middle of nowhere.”

“Okay. Check in with me every day?”

“I will.”

“Bye!” Jane ends the call so I fire off a quick text to Ramirez, letting him know the same thing I told Jane. Can’t have anyone panicking because they can’t get ahold of me. Last thing I need is to be the subject of a search party.

Pocketing my phone, I walk toward the frosted glass window near the back and stare out over the sprawling land that has belonged to the Astor family since Salem was first settled. My sister and I explored nearly every nook and cranny of this place, minus the bunker beneath me.

We didn’t step foot in there until after our parents died.

I still remember it vividly, being so broken over the loss. My grandmother left no room for argument though. She dragged Delaney and me down here so we would know what to do with the place once she was gone.

Delaney went without argument. I, on the other hand? I wanted nothing to do with the world that murdered my parents.

Now, here we are, years later, and it’s claimed the lives of not only my grandmother—but my sister as well.

How long will it be before the Reaper comes for me?

31

Rainey

“So this is the place your sister referred to?” Elijah asks when I step back into the living room fifteen minutes later.

“Yes.”

“I can understand why neither of you wished to venture down here. To a child, this place would be equivalent to a monster beneath the bed.”

I stroll over to the bookcase and lift one of the old leather-bound texts. “We would sit outside and watch our parents come down here with our grandparents. It didn’t used to bother me, but there was one night I swear I heard screams.” After replacing the book, I reach for another. Fangs are the only marking on the cover, hand-carved by a hunter generation before me.

“I can still hear them,” I say and shut my eyes tightly, recalling the memory. “Delaney and I were lying in bed at the time, and we’d left our window open for the breeze. Our room was on the back of the house, facing the entrance to the shed. It was awful.” I crack open the book and run my fingers down the aged parchment. Most of these books are hundreds of years old, detailing hunter history and creatures only seen in nightmares.

“And Delaney?” he asks, walking to the bookshelf on the other side. He’s avoiding being near me, and I can’t say it upsets me too much.

Elijah makes me feel things that are unnatural to me. Different, alien, and having space to gather my thoughts is appreciated. Especially when my haunted past is trying to claw its way to the front of my mind.

“She didn’t see what I did.”

“What did you see?”

I take a deep breath. What I’m about to say is something I’ve never told anyone. Not my sister, not my parents, and certainly not my grandparents. “I woke up early the morning after the screams and watched my father drag a body from the shed. He disappeared into the tree line with it, and when he came back—it was as though nothing had changed. I was too young to understand what I was then, so to me, I’d just watched my father hide a body.”

“How old were you?”

“Maybe ten? To be honest, most of my childhood is a blur.” I replace the book. “But this has to be the place Delaney was talking about.”

He turns in a slow circle and surveys the space. “Seems like a good place to find answers.”

“It does.” I set the fang-marked book down and turn toward the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to make sure we have food.” I move into the kitchen and head for the cabinets. I pull the first open. It’s full of plates and bowls plus a dozen or so drinking glasses. Closing it, I move to the other. Nothing.

“Found something.” Elijah holds up an MRE with a disgusted look on his face. “This is the food your grandmother stocked?”

“They aren’t that bad,” I defend. “Well, not all of them.” I study the shelves lined with the brown packages and other canned goods. “At least, we won’t starve for a few days. I’ll venture to the store if need be.”

“You don’t need to be venturing anywhere alone.” Elijah replaces the package and shuts the cabinet.

I roll my eyes. “You do realize, of course, that I’ve been taking care of myself for years now.”

“Yes, we’ve covered that. Rainey the badass hunter needs no one. Except when she’s bleeding to death in an alley or nearly being blown to shit by a car bomb.”

I growl. “You done?”

“Yes. I suppose we should start looking.”

“Wait.”

Elijah turns toward me and shoves both hands into the pockets of his slacks. “What now? Do you wish to level me with more of your witty insults?”

“Maybe later,” I snap back. “Right now, I want you to tell me what you wouldn’t before. About my heritage. I brought you here, held up my end of the bargain. Now it’s your turn.”

Nodding, he takes a few steps toward me and sits on the arm of the leather sofa. “How much do you know of your history?”

“Not much,” I admit. “I know we’re descended from the original hunter, that we’ve been around nearly as long as the oldest vampire families.”

“That’s true.”

“Do you know how the supernaturals came to exist in the first place?”

I shake my head and drop down into the leather armchair facing him. My parents died before they could teach us, and because of how terrified I was of my grandmother, Delaney never brought me out here after she became my guardian. At least, not often enough to learn anything. Whenever I did come out here, my sister spent a lot of time with our grandmother. Everything changed after my parents died.

But I’ve always known what killed them, and because of that, I pushed my heritage away, blaming it for their deaths. Until I could no longer look the other way.

“Witches are the oldest among this world’s supernaturals. As far as anyone knows, the original witch sold her soul to a fae in exchange for immortality and power.”

“A fae? They’re real?”

He nods. “Very real. And bastards too, they tend to only come to our realm when they wish to meddle with things. They find human reactions amusing.”

“Have you ever met one?” I stare at him in awe. To have met a fae…now that’s one hell of a story.

“Once. Nearly killed him, then the slippery feck slipped back into his realm.”

I smile at his irritation. I can’t imagine Elijah was overly thrilled that he lost a fight.

“Centuries passed with the lone witch, and soon, the power was no longer enough. She was lonely and sought companionship. She fell in love with a human.”

“How can someone with no soul love?”

“It’s not love the way you and I might feel it but more in an obsessive way. She sought the power it could bring her, the loyalty someone in love would bring to the table.”

I don’t miss the subtle nod toward his ability to feel or the reminder that born vampires do indeed possess souls. “So she wished to possess a human for his love.”

“Correct. Now, as you know, humans don’t live but for a blip of a second compared to us, so this witch searched for a spell that would bring him to her side, though she didn’t want to bestow actual power on him. After experimenting for years, she finally found a way to do it. A blood exchange in which he drank the blood of a human while she performed her magic.”

“The first vampire.”

“That’s correct.”

I’m enthralled with his story, hanging on every word of a history I didn’t know anything about and probably should have.

“Years passed in happiness, and eventually, the witch learned to love. She thought they were happy—that eternity would no longer be full of loneliness. Unfortunately, her bliss didn’t last long. He began to change, his power and bloodlust making him unpredictable, and soon he left her and began slaughtering humans without provocation or the need to feed. Heartbroken, she performed another ritual, this one giving a piece of her power to a human—a peacekeeper who’d sworn an oath to protect innocents from this monster.”

“The first hunter.”

“Yes. Magnus Astor, your ancestor. But this is where it gets interesting,” Elijah says, his eyes glittering with the promise of more as he slides down onto the couch cushion and leans forward, his elbows propped on the tops of his knees.

I knew my line was descendant from Magnus, but I never realized a witch created him. “More interesting than a blood sacrifice and a cheating, ungrateful vampire?”

“Much more interesting.”

“Then, let’s hear it.”

“The hunter slaughtered the vampire as he’d promised, though not before the vampire started his own clan. Which is how the rest of us remained in existence. The witch was so grateful to her hunter that she began doting on him, crafting spells and creatures he could hunt and kill to hone his abilities while he tracked down the original vampire’s clan.”

“What?” Sickness twists in my stomach like a blade. “She was creating monsters for him to kill? How?”

“By turning humans into animals.”

“Shifters,” I whisper, and Elijah nods.

I’m descended from a psychopath? “She was offering humans to him on a silver platter. And he was okay with this? Who the fuck would be okay with that?”

Elijah shrugs. “Power corrupts. That’s the one constant in any timeline. Ultimate power will change you.”

“It didn’t change you. You don’t hunt to kill.”

Elijah swallows hard and leans back. “I don’t anymore.” His admission weighs heavy on him, that much I can see. Especially when he sighs and shuts his eyes tightly for just a moment before leveling them on me. “I’ve slaughtered hundreds of humans over the years, Rainey. Killed for sport. It wasn’t until I fell in love that I realized there was more to life. A better way to live.”

“Love.” There’s that damned word again. Four letters that have the ability to turn even the smartest, strongest people into complete morons.

“Love is what it all comes down to. It’s the only thing more powerful than power itself. Love can shift the course of history.”

I can’t help but feel his words settle upon me, the underlying concept of two enemies learning to love each other not lost on me.

“The witch loved a human, and thus, the first vampire was born. The vampire loved blood, so the witch crafted a hunter. And the hunter? He loved the hunt, so she created the shifters. And wouldn’t you know, the hunter grew to love the witch, and together, they created the very first ancestral line of hunters.”

I shoot up from my chair. “No. You are not saying what I think you’re saying.”

Slowly, Elijah stands. “What do you think I’m saying?”

“That the Astors are born of both the hunter and the witch.” I knew about Magnus Astor. Knew he was the first hunter. But if what Elijah’s saying is true—

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“You expect me to believe that every hunter and every vampire… and every fucking shifter share the same parentage?” I won’t even mention how awkward that makes me feel about how badly I wanted to screw him not even five minutes ago.

He shakes his head. “Other witches were brought to power the same way the original witch was. They sold their souls. My grandmother for example,” he adds. “There are multiple lines of them and hunters as well. As soon as the original witch’s grimoire was discovered, they took it upon themselves to create full factions of creatures.” He steps toward me. “Sirens, warlocks, goblins, griffins, djinns, ghouls, dragons, the list goes on and on. But you, my dear Rainey, you are the last in the hunter bloodline descending directly from the first of the first. The first witch and the first hunter.”

“We don’t possess magic. If we were of witch heritage, we should possess a spark or something.”

“Not necessarily. Magic does not manifest itself the same in every being. For instance…” he says and disappears.

“What the fuck? Elijah?” I turn in a slow circle, scanning the room for him, but he’s gone. Did the magic expel him?

“Rainey.”

I stiffen, feeling him directly behind me. His fingers trail down the bare skin of my arm, and I shiver, desire coursing through my veins. “How?” I turn to him, tipping my face up so I can see him. He’s only inches from me, so damned close I can feel the heat radiating off his body.

“I have the ability to cloak myself from view. It’s how I followed you, and yet, you never saw me.”

“So all those times I felt someone watching me.”

“It was me. But you should have been able to see me. That’s why I told you there is so much more you need to learn, Rainey. Especially now that someone wants you dead.”

I swallow hard. “I don’t have power, Elijah. I never have.”

“Maybe not, but you are powerful, Rainey. I can feel it.”

“You told me you needed me, why? Does it have something to do with the cure?”

He shakes his head. “Not entirely, anyway. There’s a war coming, Rainey. And I damn sure want to be prepared.”

“A war? What war?”

“Haven’t you felt the shift? Noticed the extra activity in Billings? Something is coming—something big. And I can’t eliminate it on my own.”

A war? Is he serious? “I’ve noticed the extra activity, but not in a way that would suggest war.”

“It’s coming,” he assures me. “I don’t know in what capacity, whether it’s just unrest between the clans here in Billings, or something bigger, but one way or another something is coming.”

A war.

In Billings.

I groan and run both hands over my face. How the hell am I supposed to stop a war I didn’t even know was possible?

“As far as the cure goes, I believe that once the threat is eliminated, you can help me find it. And then I want you to give it to me and take my head off like you promised.”

I whirl on him, mouth falling open. “I’m sorry, you want me to what?”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Have you grown so fond of me, Hunter, that you no longer can fathom the thought of killing me?”

“Of course not,” I lie. Truthfully, the idea of killing him is nearly as repulsive as he was when I first discovered his truth. “I can do it for you now, save you the trouble of finding the cure.”

“I don’t want it for myself.”

Those words surprise me even more than his interest in my killing him. “Who?”

“A friend of mine. A man I had a hand in turning a few centuries ago. I want to give him a chance at a normal life. Break the bond he still has with his dead mate.”

“Oh shit.” Elijah wants to bring relief to his friend. Relief from the pain of loss. “And yet you say you’re not a hero.”

His gaze is intense and without humor. “I’m not.”

I don’t argue, nor do I tell him there’s no fucking way I’m dealing his final blow. “I don’t know where it is.”

“I know you don’t.”

“But you think I can help you find it.”

“Yes. I believe someone in your line possessed it at some point.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because a hunter I crossed paths with when I was in Prague told me as much.”

“A hunter?”

“He believed your family possessed the cure a few centuries ago.”

I turn away, trying to process everything he’s just told me. I don’t doubt its legitimacy. It’s far too detailed to be a lie, though I will be checking through the books so I can separate fact versus fiction.

I’ve never fully trusted hunters. Most of them are far too arrogant for their own good, and as I’ve mentioned before, they’re the first to throw another hunter beneath the blade of an enemy if it suits their greater purpose.

But the thought of the original hunting for sport? Of the fae creating witches, who then in turn created vampires and shifters of different origin—wolf, bear, large cat, and all the others—just so the original hunter could kill them? It’s murderous. Hell, it’s worse than that. She changed their DNA, crafted them into something entirely foreign to themselves and those they loved before turning them loose on the world with the sole purpose of being slaughtered.

“Delaney was different than any hunter I’d ever crossed paths with.”

“She was special,” I agree and turn to face him again.

“She didn’t kill mercilessly, and it was never without purpose. For her, the hunt was only to protect humans. You are the same way. It’s why I watched you for so long before showing myself. I had to know you weren’t like the others.”

“Delaney was everything to me,” I say, my voice cracking as the words slide out through my burning throat.

“Delaney loved you, Rainey. But there’s something else you need to know.”

“What?” Dread coils in my stomach, a venomous snake poised to strike and kill the last shred of what I think I know.

He sighs, shoulders slumping beneath the weight of whatever he’s about to tell me. “Delaney was not your sister.”

The blood drains from my face, and my stomach churns as I process his words. They must be lies. Delaney was my sister. We grew up together. I have no memories without her. “That’s a lie,” I growl.

“No, it isn’t. She told me herself.”

“No, no, no. Delaney was my sister. She was my family.”

“She was your family,” he agrees. “But she was a cousin to you—not a sister.”

“That’s not true.” Tears break free, my anger the last straw as they pour down my face. “She would have told me. Someone would have told me.”

“Her mother—your aunt—was killed by a Feline Shifter when Delaney was a baby. He’d sworn vengeance against her entire family, and after Delaney’s father was tracked down and killed, your parents took her in.”

“You’re telling me that my sister was not my sister. Why didn’t they tell me?”

“Delaney didn’t even know until she saw a Seer back in Billings. The Seer told her, and she confronted your grandmother before she was killed.”

Rage bubbles inside me, and I breathe deeply, trying to soothe the anger before I black out and do something stupid. Because right now, Elijah will take the brunt of whatever happens if I snap. “And she just poured all this out to you? A complete stranger?”

“She told me the last time I saw her. Before I left for Prague and when she made me promise to watch out for you.”

“I can’t believe she would hide that from me. That my family would lie to me like that.”

“No one could know she was alive, Rainey. The shifter family hunting her—they were notoriously deadly.”

“And you didn’t think this information was worth sharing with me earlier? So I could track them down?” Fury consumes me as the weight of my family’s secrets threaten to swallow me whole. “What if they’re the ones who killed her?”

“They’re not.”

“And how the fuck do you know?”

“Because I tracked them down and eliminated the threat after she told me.”

I blanch. “You killed them all?”

“I did. Because I know better than most that secrets hidden in the dark will eventually make their way to the light, and I didn’t want to lose her due to something she had no control over.”

“So you killed them,” I repeat.

“I did.”

“The young?”

“There were only two young shifters in the pack, and they are still alive today. They live with another pack in Canada. I took them there myself.”

Somehow, even through my anger—my grief—knowing he wouldn’t harm innocents solidifies the trust I’ve begun to feel when it comes to the vampire I was born to hate. If what he’s saying is true, the pack was gunning for my sister. But that doesn’t mean I can condone the murder of innocents.

“You should have told me earlier.”

“You wouldn’t have believed me.”

“And who says I do now?”

“If you don’t, we’re in the perfect place for you to seek the truth. Your sister did say this is where you’d find answers, so start looking.”

32

Rainey

“Can’t sleep, either?” I ask as I step into the living room.

Elijah glances up from the book he’s reading. “No.”

“Do vampires even sleep?” I ask.

Eyebrow raised, he nods. “You should know that by now. We did share a bed.”

I swallow hard remembering the way his fingers felt kneading into my sore muscles as they stole away my pain. “Good point.” I cross the room and lift a text from the wall. After spending all day yesterday and all day today searching, the only thing I have is a massive fucking headache.

“What are you reading?” I ask, walking over to curl on the sofa across from him.

“Your family’s lineage.”

“My lineage? Like, my family tree?”

“Precisely.”

“Why?”

“So I can prove to you I’m not lying about Delaney.”

“You stayed up to prove that to me?” I haven’t brought it up since he told me, unable to face what that truth makes me feel—completely fucking angry at myself for not being there when Delaney needed me.

Had she ever tried to tell me? Had I turned her away? Made her feel like I didn’t care? Emotion wells up inside me, my throat constricting, so I swallow hard in an attempt to beat it back.

“Why do you care if I believe you?”

He glances up at me. “Because I need you to trust me.”

Need. It strikes me then, as he says those words, how much I already do trust him. So much so, that I barely questioned his revelation. Something completely unlike me. I’ve trained myself to look at a situation from every possible angle—examining every possibility before deciding on the truth.

But with Elijah, I believe that he would never mislead me.

And that confidence I have in him is terrifying to someone with an untrusting heart like mine. He turns the page, scanning, then turning to the next.

It gives me a moment to study him, to watch without his notice. Hair pulled back at the base of his neck, he looks so damned relaxed. More like a human you’d find at a peace rally—not a deadly vampire with more blood on his hands than any war ever waged against man.

“Thank you.”

He glances up. “I haven’t found anything yet.”

“No, but you’ve saved my life multiple times now, you saved Delaney’s, and now you’re staying up late to find me some peace of mind. You claim you’re not a hero—and maybe you’re not—but I don’t see a villain when I look at you. And I’m pretty damn good at reading people.”

Elijah smiles—for probably the first fucking time ever—and it’s so beautiful it’s blinding. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it.” I wink and get to my feet again, needing to put some space between myself and this sappy-ass situation I’ve found myself in.

I don’t do feelings—not like most people. I hate compliments, shrink away at the first sign of a sentimental moment—it’s just how I’m wired. How I’ve always been wired. Even when I was young, before tragedy struck my family, I handled myself differently. Almost as if I could shut that part of me out and throw away the key.

Elijah’s presence appears behind me, and I know he’s blurred across the room. He’s so near I can feel his body warmth—the power radiating off of him. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, my skin tingles in anticipation of his touch, but to my dismay, he keeps his hands to himself.

I can’t figure out what I want with him, but I do know that if he came to me now—if he kissed me again—I’d be lost, and it would be fucking glorious.

“I found something,” he says, his warm breath on my neck bathing my body in goosebumps.

Turning, I take note of the book in his hands. He holds it out and I see a large tree that honestly reminds me of the one on his back. It spans both pages of the spread, and each line has names scrawled in elegant script.

Elijah’s finger is pointing to my name directly beneath my parents. Delaney’s name is not beside mine as it should have been. And as I follow his trail to the set of people directly to the left of my parents, I see Delaney’s name nestled beneath.

I swallow hard, damned emotion trying to claw its way to the surface once again as I take in the names of all of my ancestors…right up to Magnus Astor at the top. Conveniently, they left the name of the original witch off the page. “Thank you,” I say again as I meet his gaze.

“You’re welcome.”

We stand there before each other, the space between us snapping with sexual tension so potent it constricts the very air I’m breathing. Elijah closes the book and reaches around me, setting it on the shelf and putting his body closer to mine in the process.

I breathe him in as I remember the way his mouth felt on mine. When I glance up at him, I nearly lose my ever-loving mind with the way he’s staring at me. Warmth pools between my legs, drenching the soft cotton of my underwear. Elijah’s nostrils flare, his pupils dilating, and I know he can sense it—sense me—what he does to my body.

“You are intoxicating,” he groans and inhales deeply.

“Am I?” I ask, honestly. I’ve been with men before, had sex, felt desire—but all of that combined pales in comparison to what Elijah makes me feel.

“It’s a terrible thing,” he says, lifting a finger to trail through the thick strands of my loose hair.

“Is it?” I’ve apparently lost the ability to speak in full sentences…so that’s great.

He nods. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.” He steps toward me, placing both hands on the bookcase and caging me in.

But here in his arms, I’ve never felt more free.

“I—”

Elijah leans in, trailing his nose over my throat, the gentle caress lighting fires along my skin and making the soft throbbing between my legs damn near painful. I clench my thighs together, trying to ease some of it.

If he’d just touch me—

“You know we could never…” he starts, but trails off.

Wood crunches.

“Why?” The word leaves my lips on a sigh, and Elijah is gone from me as quickly as he came, and with the distance, I finally see reason. We’re already being hunted—that much is true. But if a relationship bloomed between us—and word got out—there would be no safe place. No ally to stand and aid us.

It would no longer just be the vampires after me. Hunters would come. They would kill everyone near us for the shot at being the one to put blades in our hearts.

My chest aches for the passion I’ll never get to experience even as I know I shouldn’t want him as badly as I do.

A shiver tears through me, and Elijah is back in front of me in a blur of movement, this time with the throw blanket off the back of the couch. He wraps it around my shoulders.

“I want you, Rainey. But I would ruin you.”

“I’m not as innocent as you seem to want to believe.”

He chuckles darkly and tucks hair behind my ear. “There’s not an innocent thing about you, Rainey Astor. But you are good—light—and I am nothing but shadows.”

“You aren’t as dark as you’d like to believe. But I do agree with you. Anything between us…” I trail off because I know how sour my next words are going to taste. “It would be a mistake.”

“It would,” Elijah agrees. “Goodnight, Rainey.” He kisses my cheek and turns away from me. Once his door shuts, I relax and start to head for my room, stopping the moment I’m no longer directly in front of the bookcase.

Reaching out with a shaking hand, I run my fingertips over the now cracked wood where Elijah’s hands were braced on either side of me—proof of his control.

Even as I believe the words I said—that it would be a mistake—I can’t help but wonder.

What would it be like if that control snapped?

33

Elijah

“There’s nothing here.” Rainey groans and tosses the book she’d been reading to the coffee table. I don’t blame her. We’ve been at this for three days, and so far, we’re no closer than we were when we first arrived in this damned bunker. I glance around the library at the hundreds of tomes lining the walls. Most of the texts in the room seem to be historical, some chronicles from other hunters in her line.

I can see why Grandmother Astor wished to keep these hidden and layered magic above. If these books fell into the wrong hands, it could be dangerous.

Not just for hunters but for other supernaturals as well. I watch Rainey as she lifts the book and carries it back to the shelf. She replaces it and scans for another. The way she moves, the strength apparent in the way she carries herself despite everything she’s been through and discovered over the last few days—it’s addictive.

But at least, the lust for her blood has dulled down to something manageable. Though, I worry it won’t ever fully fade. Not since I’ve tasted the fire. She faces me, so I quickly glance away and roll my shoulders.

“Wait—”

I look back up at her. “What?”

“You’re a vampire.”

“Yes, I thought we covered that.”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

I arch an eyebrow and shut the book I was scanning. “Not at the moment.”

“But don’t you need blood? I’m not about to bring you a human to drain.”

“First of all, I don’t drain humans. If I can’t get a blood bag, I drink animal blood, though admittedly that doesn’t serve me quite as long as human does.”

“Why not?”

“Something about the blood. Not like I’ve done a ton of research into it.”

“Okay. I can bring you back an animal if I need to. But no bunnies.”

I laugh and shake my head. “No bunnies,” I agree. We’ve been less at each other than normal the past few days, and the peace that’s settled between us has been nice.

Rainey breathes a sigh of relief. “How often do you eat?”

“I need to feed once every few weeks. The witch side of me makes it so I don’t need blood as often as most vampires.”

“Interesting.”

“Glad you think so.”

Rainey sets her book down on the sofa but doesn’t sit beside it. “I think I’m going to go grab us some supplies. It’s nearing dinner time, and I’m starving. Plus, I’m tired of MREs, and I need some damned Skittles.”

I stand. “I think you might have a problem.” She’d ripped into nearly every MRE in search of the elusive fruit candy and stolen every bag of them. I swear the woman could survive on Skittles alone.

“It’s only a problem if I don’t get them. And you can’t go with me.”

“No way in hell you’re going alone.”

“The only way on and off this property is with my blood, and since that didn’t go all that well the last time, and we’ve since come to the conclusion that us fucking would be a terrible idea…”

“I don’t believe I used the word ‘terrible’,” I interrupt.

Rainey pins me with an amused glare. “I think it would be better if we avoid that particular ritual as often as possible.”

“You can’t venture into Salem alone, Rainey. If someone recognizes you—what if the vampires who ordered your grandmother’s death are still here?”

“I’m sure they are. But I haven’t been here since I was twelve, Elijah. The chances of someone recognizing me are slim to none at best.”

Dread sinks in my gut like a pile of rocks. I know she’s capable, that the immediate threat is back in Billings, but that doesn’t mean it makes it any easier to consider sending her out alone. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it.” She grabs her jacket and shrugs into it.

“You can’t even call if you need help. There’s no service down here.”

“I’ll be fine, Elijah.”

“And if you’re not?”

“Then I guess you’re fucked since you won’t be able to leave.”

A growl rips from my throat. “Not funny, Rainey.”

“I’ll be back in an hour. If I’m not, feel free to try to leave anyway. Who knows? Maybe it won’t kill you.”

She moves past me, and I grip her arm. When she turns to me, it’s not just anger in her eyes but something that beckons me. A monster reaching for the one within me.

“Come back,” I tell her. “Don’t be an eejit.”

She yanks her arm from my grasp. “I won’t. And if you grab me like that again, you’d damn well better be prepared to lose a fucking hand.”

Watching her walk out the door is the hardest thing I think I’ve ever had to do. Especially knowing there’s not a damn thing I can do to save her if she runs into trouble.

34

Rainey

The town is just the way I remember it. In fact, I’m pretty damn sure nothing has changed since Delaney brought me here for the last time right before I entered the Police Academy. Less than a month later, my grandmother was dead, and there was no reason for me to return.

I stroll down the street, taking in the old houses, the way the leaves are changing colors to signify the coming of fall. It’s beautiful, that’s for damned sure, and the fresh air was much needed after spending nearly a week in the damned bunker.

The grocery store is just ahead, so I pick up my pace. There’s no doubt in my mind that if I’m not back in an hour, Elijah’s going to try like hell to get out to come find me. It will probably kill him, but at the very least, it’s going to hurt like hell, and the idea of him suffering bothers me more than I care to admit.

The last five days with him have actually been—dare I say it—pleasant. He’s typically up before me, prepping coffee, and pours me a mug without me even having to ask. Which is another reason I needed to get out. We’ve made a huge dent in the stock. Since my grandmother preferred tea to coffee, there was not much in the pantry, and I’m damned tired of the instant coffee from the MREs.

A bell dings as I push open the door and step inside. After grabbing a basket, I start strolling through the aisles. The candy aisle is the first place I go, and I grab four large bags of Skittles. Don’t judge me, they’re my lifeblood. I’m pretty sure I’m more Skittles than woman at this point.

Still, I have no shame.

“Rainey Astor?”

I turn at the sound of my name and meet the soft green gaze of an elderly woman I don’t immediately recognize.

“It is you!” She claps her hands together. “I knew it was you!”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Of course you wouldn’t remember me. I’m Doloris Taylor. Your grandmother and I were close.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I remember her name, though I can’t say I ever met her. Which makes it even more uncomfortable that she knew me by sight. “What if someone remembers you?” I hate that he was right. “How did you know it was me?”

“Your grandmother talked about you all the time. She showed us pictures right up to the end. She was so proud of you.”

She reaches forward and pats my hand, the contact making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. A quick pinch of pain shoots through my hand and up my arm. I pull it back and study the flesh on the top of my hand. Nothing’s there, but something is wrong about her touch—something dark that has my adrenaline pumping, The Hunt surging in preparation for a fight. “It was nice to see you,” I say and start to walk away, but Doloris is not so easily ditched.

“Are you staying on the estate?” she presses, trailing me down the aisle.

“No, it was burned down.”

“I knew that, so sad. I just wasn’t sure if perhaps you were rebuilding. Such a shame that the property is going to waste.”

“We’re staying at a hotel.” The moment the word ‘we’ leaves my lips, I want to smack myself.

“Oh! Is Delaney with you then? It’s been so long since I’ve seen her.”

Grief settles in my belly. “No, I’m afraid not. Delaney died two years ago.”

Doloris shakes her head sadly. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Rainey. You and Delaney were thick as thieves. I remember that much.”

“Thanks. I need to go. My uh—my boyfriend is waiting on me.” I push past her and stroll through the aisles, tossing things into the basket without putting a whole lot of planning into it. By the time I’m checking out, I’ve got three pounds of ground beef, a gallon of milk, an eighteen pack of eggs, an assortment of breakfast cereal, a shit ton of Skittles, and a large bag of coffee grounds.

I step out onto the street and groan when I realize carrying all of this is going to be impossible. So, I pull out my phone and tap the contact information for the driver who picked us up from the airport. At least I freaking remembered to put it into my cell.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Rainey Astor. You said to call if I needed anything?”

“Yes, Miss Astor! What can I do for you?”

“I’m standing outside Joe’s Market, and I think I grabbed a little too much to carry.”

“Not a problem, Miss, I can be there in less than five minutes. I’m just down the street.”

“Great, thanks.” I end the call and am about to put my phone back into my pocket when it rings. Jack’s name flashes on the screen, so I put it up to my ear. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Rainey? Thank God. Where the hell are you?”

“Not in Billings.”

“I got that much from Ramirez when I went to ask how to get in touch with you.”

“Why the hell are you checking up on me?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Rainey—”

“No. Don’t call me again, Jack. You can go to hell.” I end the call and shove the phone into my pocket. Logically, I know it’s not his fault, but I can’t help but hate him for what happened to my sister. Or, as I found out she might be, my cousin.

No. My throat tightens, and I attempt to clear it. Despite our parentage, Delaney will always be my sister.

“So good to see you, Rainey,” Doloris says as she steps out, two grocery bags in hand. “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

Thankfully, the driver chooses just then to show up. “No, thanks. I already called someone. Have a great day.” I toss the bags into the back seat and climb in the front before Doloris can say another word to me. Something about her—I can’t shake it.

“Back to the estate, Miss?”

“No, thanks. Drop me off at the motel we’re staying in. The—” Shit. I trail off when I realize I have no idea what hotels are in the area.

“Where?”

“It’s near the edge of town, I’m sorry, I’m completely drawing a blank.”

“The Jewel’s Bed and Breakfast?”

“Yes, that’s it. It’s near the road my family’s estate is on?”

“Yes, Miss. It’s a few blocks away from that road.”

“That’s it, thanks.” Leaning back, I watch the town as it passes by and prepare myself for the long-ass walk back to the estate.

But there’s no way in hell I want anyone knowing where we’re actually staying.

35

Elijah

One hour and forty-five minutes. That’s how fucking long it’s been since Rainey left. I’ve been pacing in the study since the thirty-minute mark. This was a horrible idea. Whoever killed her grandmother could be responsible for Delaney.

And if those vampires were responsible for her, isn’t it probable they’d go for Rainey too?

“That’s bloody it.” I march toward the door as it swings open and Rainey strolls in. I rush to her, gripping both arms and looking her over for injuries.

“What did I tell you about those hands?” she warns. I release her and step back.

“You took too long.”

“I had to walk back carrying over a hundred bucks in groceries.” Strolling past me, she moves into the kitchen and deposits the bags on the counter. After pulling the refrigerator door open, she starts unloading the bags and placing the cold things inside.

“Do you want these in the press?” I hold up one of what looks like three bags of Skittles. Rainey glances over at me, cocking her head to the side.

“The press?”

I gesture to the cabinet.

“That’s a cabinet.”

“Not where I’m from.”

“Guess you do learn something new every day. And yes.”

I help her put the rest of the food away. “Why didn’t you call the car?”

She turns and hops up on the counter before tearing into a bag of Skittles. “You were right.”

“About?”

“Someone recognized me.”

Fuck. “Who? What happened?”

“An old woman who used to be friends with my grandmother. Doloris Taylor.”

“I thought you said no one would recognize you.” The words come out angrier than I’d intended, though I can’t help it. She put herself in danger. I knew it was a possibility, and yet I let her leave without me.

“She shouldn’t have. But she said my grandmother showed her pictures of me. That she was so proud of me.”

“Makes sense if they were friends.”

“That’s the thing though. My grandmother hated that I wanted to be a cop. She turned her back on me when I went into the academy.”

“Is it possible she behaved differently around others?”

Rainey shakes her head. “My grandmother didn’t give two fucks about what others thought. She was the person she was, and that was that.”

I wonder if Rainey realizes she inherited that particular personality trait. “So you believe it was odd?”

“Yes. And she touched me.”

I straighten, uncrossing my arms. “What do you mean?”

“She reached forward and touched my han—” Rainey lifts her hand and stares at the top. “That’s weird.”

“What?” I cross the distance and take in the symbol on the top of her hand. A half-circle is split in two with a straight line that doesn’t extend all the way down but rather ends just below the moon shape. Two dots sit side by side near the inside curve of the half-circle. It’s a witch’s brand and one I’ve unfortunately seen before.

Dread surges through me even as rage threatens to overwhelm me. “Fuck!” I slam my fist down onto the counter and turn away, breathing deeply as I try to keep myself from losing my fucking mind.

“Is this from where she touched me? It wasn’t there before.”

I glance back at her. “She branded you.”

“Branded me?”

“Doloris is a bloody witch.”

“I don’t get it—”

“Your hand, Rainey. Ah, fuck. I told you it was a bad idea. You should have listened to me.” I turn away from her again, one hand running over my face, the other on my hip as I contemplate the possible ramifications for her mark.

“What does it mean?”

“It’s the mark of Blood. A moon glyph used by witches for centuries.”

“What does it mean?”

“It has quite a few meanings, depending on the motives behind the witch using it.”

“Care to share?”

I whip back around. “This isn’t a fucking game, Rainey.”

“I never said it was.” Her tone is a warning to me, but I ignore it. This is a hell of a lot bigger than she even realizes.

“That mark can be a witch’s way of branding you as a certain bloodline. The spell surrounding you will let any supernatural who approaches you sense who you belong to. It’s a homing beacon for any fucking asshole wishing to harm you.”

She pales. “What are the other meanings? You said there are more meanings, Elijah. What are they?” She crosses the room toward me, panic lacing her words.

Good. It’s about fucking time you realize you aren’t invincible. “It can also be a way of shielding you from anyone seeking your bloodline.”

“So she could have been protecting me?”

“As I said, it boils down to the witch’s intention at the time of the brand.”

“And how the hell do we figure that out? Should I give her a call and ask?”

“Don’t be an eejit.”

“If you don’t stop calling me an eejit, I’m going to bury my foot in your ass.”

“I wouldn’t have to call you one if you didn’t behave like one.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. There goes the unspoken truce between us. “How did you feel when she touched you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Think really hard, Rainey.” I step closer to her. “You are more powerful than you give yourself credit for, so think back. What were your instincts telling you when she touched you?”

She grows quiet, and her face scrunches up as she thinks back to the contact. I can’t keep my gaze from straying to her hand.

“Wrong,” she finally says. “It felt wrong.” She looks up at me, eyes wide. “But that doesn’t make any sense. I remember my grandmother mentioning her a time or two. I know they were friends.”

“Friends make the worst enemies, Rainey. Because they know where to hit us the hardest.”

She swallows hard and stares down at her hand. “I didn’t even think—”

“Because you don’t know what you’re up against. Being a hunter is only part of it, Rainey. And it’s small in comparison to the rest of it.”

Her gaze flits up to mine, and finally, I see what I’ve been aiming for since I first showed myself to her after the alley attack. Trust. “Then teach me.”

“We need to get that damned thing off of you first.”

“How?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. The last time I came across that mark, it didn’t fade until death.”

“Who?”

I meet her gaze, my heart feeling as though the bloody thing is being squeezed through a vise. “My fiancée.”

36

Rainey

Being underground has its positives, but it doesn’t erase the one massive drawback.

There’s no natural light. At all. The room around me is pitch black except for the single strip of light from my cracked door. I’ve been in here, trying to sleep for well over three hours based on the clock beside me.

Three hours of trying not to focus on the witch’s brand on my hand or the panicked expression on Elijah’s face when he saw it for the first time. Hell, I freaked out when I saw it. I’d been so focused on getting out of the store and back here that I hadn’t even bothered to look. Besides, who the fuck checks their hand for supernatural marks after being casually touched?

According to Elijah, I should have known the moment it happened, which explains the dread. What I don’t understand though is how. Just because I supposedly have magic in my blood doesn’t mean it’s active.

I could be inactive like so many witches. A good percentage of humans don’t realize they actually belong to our world. It’s those who can tell who’s going to be on the phone before they even check the ID. The ones who sense something is coming with no logical explanation for how.

A lot of them wind up in mental health facilities because they lose their minds to the call of their power. And if what Elijah tells me is true, a lot of hunters also share a witch heritage, and yet, I’ve never come across one with active magic.

Rolling over onto my side, I stare at the door. How the hell am I supposed to sleep when my mind feels like it’s in overdrive?

“Ugh.” Shoving my covers back, I climb out of bed and head for the door. I pull it open and stop in my tracks. Elijah stands on the other side of the room, shirtless, his back to me. This is the first time I’ve had a chance to study the ink on his back since last time he was dressing too quickly for me to take it all in. So now, I shamelessly stand behind him, taking my time to absorb every detail of the intricate tattoo.

Swirls and lines make up different designs I recognize as Celtic, though I can’t place the meanings. They’re multiple symbols that separately mean something while collectively forming a completely different shape altogether. A magnificent tree that spans the wide set of his shoulders before tapering down to the narrowness of his waist.

And it’s fucking magnificent.

“It’s the Celtic Tree Of Life,” he says without turning to me.

“It’s gorgeous.”

Elijah glances over at me. “Couldn’t sleep?”

I shake my head. “You?”

“There won’t be rest for me until we figure out how to remove that mark. From what I’m reading though, we’re going to need another witch to do it.”

“Why don’t I just track her down and make her remove it?”

“Because until you’ve tapped into your power, you’re useless against a practiced witch.”

“Ouch.”

“I won’t keep you alive by saving your pride, Rainey. How many witches have you actually faced off with?”

“Counting the one today?” I pretend to tally it up. “One.”

He mutters something I can’t make out, but based on his vast knowledge of Irish insults, I probably wouldn’t understand it anyway. It took me forever to realize he was calling me an idiot when he used the word eejit.

“I’ve come head-to-head with dozens. They are not to be underestimated,” he says.

“You seem so sure that I possess an active ability.”

“You do.”

“And how can you tell?”

“Because I can sense it in you. It—” He trails off, his jaw tightening. “It calls to me.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Elijah sets the book down on the table and moves toward me. I drink him in as he moves, gazing at his muscled chest dusted with dark hair that matches the color of the loose strands around his handsome face.

Even after deciding it was a terrible idea to act on how we feel, I can’t make myself forget the feel of the scrape of his short beard against my face. The way his tongue dove into my mouth, claiming me.

And fuck me if I don’t want him again. “We’re going to need to go into town tomorrow and find a witch.”

“You can’t—”

“Cut the shit, Rainey. I’m going with you. End of story.”

Before I can argue, he storms into his room and slams the door behind him.

* * *

“This is a terrible idea.” I stand just beneath the entry up to the garden shed, staring down at Elijah beneath me.

“It’s better than the alternative.”

“Which is?”

“You getting yourself into more trouble because you have no clue what you’re dealing with.”

“I know what could happen if I do this.”

“As do I. And trust me, it’s not something I take lightly.”

“Then maybe—”

“Just do it, Rainey. I assure you it’s far more painful for me than you.”

I stare down at the blade in my hand. “What does it feel like?”

Elijah’s ice-blue gaze pins mine. “Like fire is coursing through my veins and you’re the only fucking way to put it out.”

His words crash into me, sending a wave of desire so strong it nearly takes me to my knees. “That sounds—painful.”

“You have no idea.”

I take a deep breath and run the blade over my palm. The instant blood pools to the surface, Elijah straightens and backs into the wall. His hands curl into fists at his sides. He doesn’t look at me as I reach forward and slide my palm over his face.

As I touch him, my other hand holds his shoulder, our height difference being countered by the stairs so I’m at the same level as him. “You okay?”

He nods. “Finish it.”

“Okay.” I reach up and run my bloody palm down the other side of his cheek. Just as I’m about to pull it away, he snatches my wrist, his long fingers wrapping completely around it. When I look up to chew him out, I’m met with a bright gaze, unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

His eyes are glowing so bright it’s like they’re lit from an internal power. His grip tightens, and my stomach twists, my blood pounding in response to his magic. Desire, lust, and sexual tension so fucking thick it saturates the air around us.

Then, he leans forward and runs his tongue over the wound on my hand. Elijah’s eyes darken the moment he makes contact with my blood, his pupils dilating so wide they nearly eliminate the blue and white. I should be bothered.

Grossed out.

Fucking pissed.

But I don’t feel any of those because I’m far too turned on. My hand tightens on his shoulder as he licks the blood from my palm, his body vibrating beneath my fingertips.

“Is leatsa mé,” he whispers.

Before I can ask him what the hell he just said, something crashes above us, and he stills, a low growl emitting from his throat as he slowly drops my hand.

“Elijah?” I ask, breathless.

“I’m going to kill them,” he says softly, so low that I can barely hear it despite only being a few inches from him.

“We don’t even know who it is,” I reply.

Elijah holds his finger up to his lips, and he inhales. When he meets my gaze again, the man is gone, and the monster’s in charge.

I withdraw my blade, and Elijah’s fangs slide down soundlessly, his eyes glowing even brighter than before. He inches past me and toward the door, glancing back at me one last time before shoving it open.

Someone yells as Elijah plows out into the garden shed. I follow, slamming into the nearest body without bothering to see who they are.

“We got her!” someone yells, and I topple end over end with whoever has me pinned to the ground. He’s wearing a black ski mask, so I can’t make out features. But based on size alone, I’d say this is one big-ass human.

“You have no idea who you’re up against,” I growl.

He smiles through the mask. “We do, Hunter.” He balls up a fist, and I dodge just in time. It slams into the ground, and he howls in rage as I buck my hips, sending him over my head and into some pots stacked in the corner. I flip up to my feet and send my dagger flying.

He dodges, and I lunge for it again.

These aren’t humans.

“You’re a hunter.”

“And you’re a vampire-loving whore,” he spits back at me. I race toward him, planting both hands on the top of an old table and spinning my feet out, slamming the soles of both boots into his chest. I don’t hesitate any longer before jumping on top of him and driving my dagger down into his throat.

Blood spurts from the injury, and he gurgles, his hands gripping my thighs painfully. I try to pull away, to get free, but even in death, he’s pinning me to the ground.

Hands grip my sides and rip me up. Instinctively, I fight back against the hold, twisting and turning as I try to break free.

“Rainey!” Elijah roars, and I still. “Get back inside!”

I glance over my shoulder and feel all of the blood drain from my face. I grow cold as I take in the creatures surrounding us. Wolf, bear, large cats, basically, any deadly predator you could cross paths with here in Northern America stalks toward the cabin led by one woman.

Doloris fucking Taylor. She walks in front of them, her aged face illuminated with power, white hair whipping around her head as she raises both hands.

“That bitch.” I growl, my vision growing blurry around the edges as a blackout starts to take hold. No, no, not now. I try to focus, shaking my head to clear it as I clench both fists at my sides. “You’ll pay.”

“Rainey!” Elijah yells again, coming into view and gripping both of my shoulders. He shakes me, and I focus on him rather than the woman I want to kill. “Snap the hell out of it, and get back inside.”

I don’t move, and as the blood begins to pound in my ears, I begin to shake, and something wet drips down onto my cheek. A humming overtakes the shed, and Elijah bellows.

Fire explodes on the back of my hand, and I drop to my knees, the pain overwhelming every single one of my senses.

“Fuck!” Elijah lifts me and rushes toward the cabinet, sliding it closed behind us. The moment we’re inside, the immediate pain stops, replaced by an aching that leaves my arm immobile. Elijah sets me down long enough to secure the bolt, locking us inside. He turns to lift me when the door shakes.

“Rainey Astor, come out wherever you are,” Doloris yells from the other side of the door.

I clench my jaw, cradling my arm against my chest.

“It’s not nice to hide from an old friend,” an aged female voice purrs. “I want to talk. I always wondered why your grandmother refused to speak of you, and now I know why. You are one of them.”

She’s baiting me, and based on the anger reflected on Elijah’s face, he knows it too. I grind my teeth together.

“You are something special, child. Don’t you wish to know what? I would love the chance to teach you, Rainey. I can show you things your grandmother never could. Eventually, you’re going to have to come out, and the longer you make me wait, the more painful it will be for you and that vampire you’ve aligned yourself with. Tick tock, child. Tick. Tock.”

My vision wavers, and I collapse. Before I fall, Elijah grips me, cradling me to his chest as he carries me down the stairs. He moves silently, or at least I think he does. I can’t hear a damn thing over the pounding of my own blood.

“I’m sorry,” I grind out through my teeth as he sets me on the couch. “I should have stayed here. I’m sorry.” My head aches, the pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

“It doesn’t matter now.” He heads for the bathroom. My hand and forearm are bright red and blistered, the skin charred. The mark is now a pale white compared to the skin surrounding it when, before, it had been pink.

“What the hell did she do to me?” I ask, cradling my injured arm to my chest.

“Believe it or not, that’s the least of my concerns,” he says, stepping out to join me in the living room. His eyes are hard, but they’re clear once more now that he’s wiped my blood from his face.

“Why the hell is that? The bitch burned me from outside the cabin!”

“Can they get inside?”

“I don’t know. I don’t believe so. My grandmother had the place spelled to be hidden from view. If they’d wanted in here, they could have gotten in before now, right?”

“True.”

“But if she helped my grandmother,” I start, the horrific realization taking hold. “She could get in, Elijah. If Doloris is the one who—”

He mutters something under his breath and comes toward me, kneeling in front of the couch and reaching for my injured arm. “We need to focus on one thing at a time.”

“My arm is already starting to feel better.”

“Positives of being a hunter.” He gets up and sits on the coffee table, facing me. “What did you do up there?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“When you realized it was her, where did your mind go? What were you trying to do?”

“I wasn’t actively trying to do anything. Why?”

“Magic poured from you, Rainey. Every single cell of your body radiated with power unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. And your eyes, you weren’t you. The blackout at Jack’s—it wasn’t even this potent, and you would have decimated had I not stepped in.”

I gape at him. “What? What the hell does that mean? Who the hell else could I have been?”

“I don’t know, but until we figure it out, you need to maintain control over yourself. Your magic isn’t what we thought.”

“I don’t have magic.”

“Yes, you do. And it is not inactive, Rainey. It’s anything but. Fuck, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You’re afraid.”

“I am,” he admits. “And that’s not a typical feeling for someone like me. Has anything ever happened around you?”

“You mean have I ever sent something flying across the room with a wave of my hand? No, because I’m not a fucking witch.”

“Enough with your damned predisposed bias, Rainey. This is a hell of a lot bigger than that.”

I push to my feet, noticing the blisters on my arm already disappearing. It’s still red and hot to the touch. “It’s not a predisposed bias, Elijah. I’d know if I were a witch.”

“Would you? Because it seems to me you weren’t aware as you were trying to rip Jack’s heart out and feed it to him—your words, not mine. And you also don’t realize that you very nearly took the whole fucking shed down on top of us up there with a mere sight of your enemy. And honestly? The fact that you don’t know—don’t remember—concerns me more than the actions themselves.”

37

Elijah

Fear settles over me, a heavy blanket weighing me down with the force of a thousand pounds. I can’t shake it despite the fact that, for the most part, she seems to be back to normal. Yet, the emptiness reflected in her solid black, soulless eyes only minutes ago was something I’ve never seen before. And still, it was more than that; her face had contorted into a grim smile, one that promised death.

Destruction.

An empty void ready to swallow up anything in her path.

She was someone else—somewhere else—and it was clear to me, as it would be to anyone looking in, that Rainey was no longer in control of herself. Her sister told me she was the most powerful Legacy Hunter to ever walk the earth, and now I see why.

She’d told me that Rainey had to be protected at all costs.

At first, I’d thought it was a sibling-like bond that bound her to Rainey, but now I see Delaney was worried about a hell of a lot more than that. The evil that poured from the woman before me only minutes ago—it chilled me to the bone and snapped me out of my own bloodlust.

And let me tell you, it takes a hell of a lot to rip me away from that once it takes hold of me.

I can still taste the coppery tang of her blood on my tongue, feel the buzzing in my blood that responded when I tethered myself to her. Something I never would have done had I known the darker side lurking within her.

“What did you mean earlier?” she asks me, and I wonder if she can read my thoughts.

“When?”

“You said something to me before we went up through the door. What was it?”

“Is leatsa mé,” I repeat.

“Yes, that. What does it mean?”

You are mine. “Nothing. It’s just a phrase. I thanked you for offering me passage onto your property,” I lie because I just fucking tethered myself to someone who may not even be the person before me.

And if I swore my loyalty to her by taking her blood into my body and speaking those words, I also swore loyalty to the other side of her. The witch I only caught a glimpse of above.

“You thanked me?”

“What do you remember?” I demand, changing the subject.

“I was pissed.”

“At Doloris.”

“Obviously.” Rainey gets to her feet. “Now, how about we figure out what the hell we’re going to do before they manage to get down here.”

“Are there any other exits?”

She shakes her head. “The shed is it.”

“What the hell kind of hideout only has one exit?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I built the fucking place.” Rainey glares at me, the muted power I once thought was her hunter blood calls to me in a way it never has before. Because now that I’ve tasted it, I can feel the darkness.

And it’s terrifying.

“We need to scour this place, find something to help us figure out a way around Doloris’s magic because, if what she did to your arm is any indication, she’s a hell of a lot more powerful than any witch I’ve ever crossed paths with.”

“Then let’s get after it.” Rainey walks past me and starts gathering books from the shelf. I do the same, but as I’m reaching for the fifth book, it won’t pull from the shelf. Instead, it creaks, and a panel opens behind where it and the other four books once sat nestled together on the shelf.

“What was that?” Rainey asks and comes to join me, arms full of books.

“Seems whoever built this had a thing for secrets.”

“Wasn’t that clear when we entered a magically concealed stairwell leading us down to a private bunker?”

“Good point.” I set the books down and open the panel all the way, revealing a keypad.

“Well, that’s disappointing.”

“You have no clue what it could be?”

“You could try my dad’s birthday. He was her son.”

“Sure, what was it?”

“August fourteenth, nineteen-oh-two.”

“Gotta love that hunter immortality,” I say.

“Immortality only gets you so far,” she replies dryly.

I couldn’t agree more.

I type in the code and, when nothing happens, glance back at her expectantly. “You could try Delaney’s birthday.”

I type it in, and Rainey stares at me, clearly surprised I knew Delaney’s birthday.

“I had drinks with her one year. That wasn’t it either,” I say, frustrated. “What’s yours?”

“It’s not going to be mine.”

“Then that would make it the clear choice, would it not?”

Rainey sighs. “October thirty-first, nineteen-eighty-two.”

“You were born on All Hallows Eve?”

“I was.”

“During a full moon.”

“I have no fucking clue. It’s not like I track them.”

She’s a hunter with witch magic born on a full moon during one of the most supernaturally charged times of the year. No fucking wonder she’s powerful. I type in the code, and a door-sized panel to our left slides away.

“Seems your grandmother wanted you to find it.”

“Or Delaney,” she says. “If she discovered it first.”

“Either way, someone wanted you in here.” I take the books from her and set them to the side before stepping into the dark. The moment I cross the threshold, lights flicker on, and the room is bathed in their soft, yellow glow.

The room is completely empty save for a video monitor perched atop a filing cabinet and a manila folder in the center of a large metal table.

Rainey moves slowly across the room, each step appearing labored until finally, she stops in front of the table and glances over at me as I stop beside her.

The Lunar Divide is scrawled in elegant penmanship on the pale-yellow surface, and Rainey reaches for the edge of the top, opening the folder.

A picture of a woman with golden hair and a bright smile stares back at us. A bright red X has been drawn through her photograph, the word ‘terminated’ stamped beside the photo. Rainey flips it over, and another smiling woman, brunette this time, stares up at us. Another red X and stamp on her page.

Rainey continues to flip through, and one after the other, each woman’s photo has been crossed out. Until…

She drops the latest image and steps back, covering her mouth with both hands.

I reach down and lift it. Rainey stares up from the photograph, wearing a navy-blue uniform. Her name, height, age, weight, and description fill out the page. She’s the only one in the entire file who’s not listed as terminated.

“What the hell are these?” I ask as Rainey steps forward and gathers the other images. She scans them, more frantic this time, and I’m unable to tear my gaze from hers.

“Their birthdates, Elijah.”

“What about them?”

She swallows hard and steps forward, scanning. “All of them are on Halloween.”

A shiver of knowing slithers up my spine. “What are the years?”

“Three were born in nineteen-eighty-two. Two in nineteen-sixty-three, and two in two-thousand-one. What does it mean?”

“A full moon happens on Halloween once every nineteen years,” I tell her.

“What does that have to do with—”

“Rainey.”

I still, and Rainey pales as Delaney’s voice fills the room. I spin, searching for her.

“I wish I could see you,” Delaney says from the video monitor in the corner of the room. She smiles back at us, her familiar features digging a fresh wound in my grief. Rainey looks like she’s two seconds from toppling over as she moves slowly toward the screen.

“Delaney?” she whispers.

I set the page I’m holding down and move toward her, reaching down to thread my fingers through hers in an attempt to offer her some strength.

“I’m glad you found the room. I had this set on a timer to give you a chance to look through the folder. If you haven’t yet, you need to.” She pauses. “I want you to know how sorry I am that this had to happen this way. But I had to be sure you got the messages, and they had to be done carefully as I’m sure you will understand by now.”

“What? What do I understand?” Rainey asks, her voice cracking.

“As I record this, I’ve been told I have two months left. After that, my time will be over, and it will be up to you. I don’t know if Elijah has crossed paths with you yet or if he’s told you what I confided in him. I hope he has, but just in case he hasn’t, the information is in the cabinet beneath this monitor.” She chuckles. “I know you’re impatient, but before you go digging right away, I need you to remember one solid truth: Don’t let them paint you as what they believe you to be. You are a good person, and this is nothing but one final roadblock before you begin to truly understand what you are.”

“What is she talking about?” Rainey turns her gaze up to mine, her tear-filled eyes gutting me.

“I don’t know.”

“I stole these files last night from a witch named Doloris Taylor. She used to be one of grandma’s old friends but turned on her. I discovered it was a coven that killed her, Rainey, not vampires and not humans. It’s how they were able to get to her through the wards. Because they helped set them up.” Delaney’s jaw hardens. “I wish I was there to help you, but you should know—this is only the beginning of what’s to come. There is so much more headed your way, and you’re going to need all the help you can get.”

Rainey turns to me, eyes wide. I shrug, unable to explain anything Delaney is telling me. It’s all news I am hearing for the first time too.

“If Elijah is here with you, or if you see him again, please thank him for me. And if your path ever crosses with a hunter who goes by the name of Jack.” She grins, her cheeks flushing with color. “Tell him that it wasn’t his fault. None of it was, and I wish him happiness. I love you, Rainey. You are my sister, in all ways that matter. And you are my best friend. Don’t forget. Check the cabinet.”

The video goes black, and a pained sob rips from Rainey’s chest. “No, no, Delaney!” She rushes forward and presses a button on the monitor, but nothing happens. The screen remains black. She turns and pushes past me to the table. After shoving the folder aside, she slams both palms down on the table where the folder had been.

“Why isn’t it working?”

I have no answers for her. To my knowledge, Delaney had no active magic that would have allowed her to spell the room this way. But someone had to have.

Rainey stalks across the room again and starts ripping open drawers.

“Rainey,” I say softly. When she doesn’t respond, I walk to her and grip her shoulders. “Rainey.”

Finally, her tortured gaze focuses on mine. “I don’t understand.”

“We will.” I reach up and cup her cheek, running my thumb over her skin in a tender caress that does nothing to soothe the panic in my chest. If these women were hunted down and killed…what if Rainey is next?

38

Rainey

Tears stream down my cheeks, the grief still fresh in my heart made even fresher by the visual of the woman who will always be my sister. It doesn’t matter that I’m pissed at her for not telling me the truth earlier, or that I’m furious that she knew she was going to die and didn’t do anything to stop it.

I fucking miss her, and seeing her—even in a recorded video—breaks my damned heart all over again.

Elijah stands across from me, looking nearly as broken up as I feel, though he’s hiding it much better than I am.

“I need to know what she wanted me to find.” I pull open the second drawer, the third, and finally, the fourth. Nestled inside is a box, so I lift it carefully, carrying it over to the table. It’s ancient and crafted with dark wood. The lid and surrounding sides are covered in swirls and designs I don’t recognize.

Elijah leans forward and brushes his fingertips over the designs. “These are Celtic,” he says. “And ancient.”

“What do they mean?”

He shrugs. “I have no clue. But I think we need to find out before we—”

“She wanted me to find it. I’m not waiting.” I open the lid, and all hell breaks loose.

Lights flicker overhead as a whirring sound so fucking loud it drowns out everything else fills the room. Black smoke swirls around me, filling me with a sense of foreboding even as it promises power.

Pure.

Unfiltered.

Ancient.

It’s addictive and beckons me forward. I reach for the lid again and try to pry it all the way open, but Elijah’s hands are on it in an instant, forcing it to remain partially closed.

I growl at him. He has no right. My sister left this for me! I let go of the box and shove him. He stumbles back, and the lid flies open the moment he’s no longer holding it shut.

“There you are,” a voice whispers to me. The call of a lover, enticing me. I turn toward it, moving closer, closer as the inky black envelops me. The stroke of fingers brushes over my skin, sliding up and down the side of my face, my arms. They’re everywhere, wrapping around me, holding me. Filling the part of me that’s been empty for what feels like forever.

The part of me that acted on instinct—that killed those who would harm me when the rational side of my brain wouldn’t allow me to act.

It made me a hunter, and they will make me better.

“Come to us.”

“We need you.”

“We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Free us.”

“It’s time.”

Something screams.

“Stop him!”

“He will trap us!”

I turn and growl at Elijah as he rushes toward me. “No!” I scream, though it’s not just my voice. It’s layered with their voices. With power.

We collide, my shoulder cracking as it impacts with his sternum. He flies back, and I land on top of him.

“Rainey! We have to close it!”

“Never!” I scream and ball up my fist, slamming it down into his jaw.

“Yes. Kill him! Kill him for what he would do to us!”

I reach for my dagger, my hand closing on the hilt. Elijah’s eyes widen as I snarl down at him. “You should have stayed back.”

“Rainey, no. Stop. Rainey!” he bellows. With the force of their power behind me, I drive the blade down toward his heart.

He grips my arms and throws me back, causing my head to slam into the wall opposite of him. Pain explodes in my skull, and I crumple to the ground.

“No!”

“Stop him!”

“Get up!”

The black smoke in the room begins to move more rapidly now, an inky black snake attempting to evade its enemy.

Then, as quickly as it appeared. It’s gone.

I shake my head as the roaring stops. The pain no more than a dull ache now. My thoughts scramble to find logic in what just happened as I focus on the room. Elijah stands in front of the box, his hands covering the lid. Breath coming in ragged gasps, his cheeks are reddened, his hair windblown, and he gapes at me with an expression I never thought I’d attribute to the powerful vampire.

He’s afraid of me.

“What in the fuck just happened?” he demands, stalking toward me.

“I don’t—” I search for a reason behind what just happened, but the memory of it is fading already and making it nearly impossible to focus on anything.

Elijah grips my arms and rips me up from the ground, pinning me to the wall. “You nearly fucking daggered me!”

I did? “I did? I don’t remember—let me go.” I squirm against his hold.

“What do you remember?”

“We found the box, and I tried to open it.” What the hell is wrong with him? “Let me go, Elijah. Now. We need to know what’s inside.”

His eyes widen, his mouth falling open. “You already opened the bloody thing!”

“What?” Now it’s my turn to stare at him as though he’s crazy. But as I look around the room, at the pages scattered about, the way his hair is tousled as though he’s been in a fight—I start to panic. What if I’m the crazy one? “Elijah?” I choke out his name, and he releases me, turning away.

I jump when he rams his fist into the wall. “Gather the pages. We’ll deal with this later.”

Kneeling, I gather up the pages and shove them back into the folder, then set them beside the box. Elijah’s eyes are on me the entire time, so I step away from it as quickly as I can.

“What are we going to do?”

Something crashes outside, so we race into the living room. Elijah hits a button on the keypad, and the panel closes seconds before the door leading to our only escape path bursts open, and shifters pour inside.

They stop just inside the room, teeth bared, some snarling in our direction. Doloris comes into view, and she grins at me. “Your time has run out, child.”

“How did you get in here?” Elijah demands.

“Something broke the wards on this place.” She glances around. “I have to admit this is one hell of a hidey-hole. Your grandmother worked hard to protect this from me.”

“I can see why.” My vision begins to swim, but Elijah’s hand brushes against mine, his touch rooting me in this reality rather than whatever is waiting for me in the dark. “You betrayed her,” I accuse.

“She was weak, and we serve a greater purpose.”

“What purpose is that?” Elijah steps forward. “Slaughtering innocent women?”

She cocks her head to the side. “And which women would you be referring to?”

“We know about the Lunar Divide.”

Her eyes widen at my words, and her dark smile spreads. “So you know you’re next. The final piece to the puzzle.”

“You killed them. Why?”

“They posed a threat, and threats have to be eliminated.”

“Was Delaney a threat?” I ask, the edges of my vision blurring so she’s the only one I can see.

“I wasn’t responsible for Delaney. Though, I can’t say I was overly disappointed in her death. She was getting too close. Just as your grandmother had. You should feel rather special, Rainey. They hid you from me for quite some time. It wasn’t until a few months ago I discovered your true potential.”

“Potential you want to terminate,” Elijah adds.

“Perhaps, though you might prove more useful to us alive,” she says as she studies me. The way her eyes travel over me, it’s unnerving, reminding me of a scientist’s through a magnifying glass. “Take her,” she orders, and the shifters begin to move forward.

“Over my dead body,” Elijah growls beside me. I don’t look over, too focused on maintaining a level head like Elijah told me after our first interaction with her above.

“It will be,” Doloris promises. “You won’t be walking out of this one, Vampire. I assume your council will be quite pleased with the news of your death.”

Her threat surges through me, and I snarl. “You won’t touch him.”

Doloris’s gaze flits to mine. “You are awfully protective of a bloodsucker. Must be the witch blood in you. Some of us have a soft spot for the pets. Though, I am afflicted with no such weakness. You should all die,” she spits at Elijah, and I roll my shoulders as The Hunt surges through me.

The surge of adrenaline should have been familiar to me, but it’s laced with something far more sinister now. And it wants to bathe in the blood of my enemies.

Elijah attacks, lunging for a wolf, and I spin, kicking out as two stalk toward me. A bear slashes out with its long claws. They grip the front of my shirt and tear, shredding the fabric.

I howl in rage, and Doloris snaps her fingers.

The bear falls to the ground. “Don’t kill her!” she orders.

The golden eyes of a cougar level on me as it lowers to pounce. I reach back and palm my dagger. It lunges. I stab. Blood drips down my arm, and I race for Doloris as the other shifters head for Elijah.

One quick glance assures me he’s holding his own—if barely. I run toward the room for Doloris. She raises both arms and stares at me expectantly.

Nothing happens, and her eyes widen.

“Surprise, bitch.” I have no clue what happened, why whatever she did to me above ground is no longer affecting me, but I’m not about to tell her that. She waves a hand, and books from the shelf beside me fly out, slamming into me. I fall to the ground, buried beneath ancient leather.

They weigh me down for a moment before I shove to my feet. The books continue to surround me, and a whirling sound fills my ears as they try to bury me. Pages flap, and Doloris smiles, her eyes burning with power.

“Rainey!” Elijah calls my name, a panicked cry as he fights his own battle. I swallow hard as books from the other shelf join the ones determined to form my grave. I struggle, fighting against them even as they pin my hands at my sides, crushing me.

My vision blurs. No, remain in control. After what Elijah told me he saw, I don’t want to risk losing it. Especially not when he could get caught in the crosshairs.

I scream.

Elijah roars.

An animal I don’t recognize yelps.

The books continue climbing, obliterating my view. My lungs burn as they press into me, and I gasp for breath. I’m going to die tonight.

Suffocated by the literature my family died to protect. If I wasn’t so terrified, I could laugh at the irony.

Spots form in my vision, and I gasp for air. “Elijah,” I choke out, a strangled sob that will be my final word.

And as everything begins to fade to black, the books crumble away.

39

Elijah

“Rainey!” Panic, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, surges through me as she disappears into a tomb of books.

I growl and release the chains I’ve kept myself wrapped in for so damned long. Bloodlust surges through me, knowing nothing but the need to survive. A wolf lunges for me. I grip it by its brown fur and rip, tossing its head to the side as I move to the others.

I kill, shred, destroy on my way to Doloris.

Rainey chokes, my name barely audible above the magic whirring in the air around us. Doloris doesn’t see me, the foolish witch believing her shifters were enough to stop me.

When it comes to Rainey, there’s not a fucking force powerful enough to keep me away from her. A bear races toward me, its claws digging into the flesh of my abdomen. I don’t even feel the pain that should have followed.

My heart hammers in my chest, and I wrap both arms around its throat, spinning and pinning it to the ground. I squeeze, and it squirms as it shifts into a man. Panicked, he grips at my arms, but it’s a futile fight. His neck snaps, and I jump to my feet, nothing standing between me and the witch.

I race toward her, and she turns as I slam into her.

The books fall, the sound like an avalanche to my ears.

“How did you?” Doloris scrambles to her feet, lifting her arm and flinging me back into the empty bookcase.

My body jolts against the hard wood. As I push to my feet, I steal a glance at Rainey. She’s unconscious, her face bloody, lip swollen, one hand outstretched as though she’s reaching for me.

“You have no idea who I am,” I growl.

“You shouldn’t have been able to do this.”

“No,” I say, calling to the power in my blood. I can tell the moment she loses sight of me. My cloak in place, I race toward her and pounce, sinking my teeth into her throat.

Copper fills my mouth, and she screams.

I bite down and rip, tearing her throat out and spitting it to the ground beside me.

“You can’t save her,” she chokes out. “She’s as good as de—” Doloris trails off, her eyes frozen open.

I stare down at her, the vampire in me wanting more. More of her blood. I start toward her, and Rainey coughs.

“Rainey.” I race toward her, throwing books to the side. “Rainey!” I yell at her, gripping her face. “Please, open your eyes.”

I have no damned clue where to even look for adrenaline in this fucking place, and I wish I could kick my own ass for not checking when we first arrived.

But this? I survey the blood-soaked ground and the bodies scattered around us. I never could have imagined this would happen.

“Elijah?”

“Yes, Rainey, it’s me.”

She opens her eyes slowly and wheezes as she tries to sit up. “My chest.”

I feel down her sides, and she winces. One, two, three. “You have some broken ribs,” I tell her as I try to lift her. “We need to get the hell out of here while we can.”

She nods, and I help her to her feet. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I hold her against my body, and she sucks in a pained breath. “We need to get the box.”

“I know.” I guide her over to the couch and set her down before running to the keypad and inputting her birthdate. Without paying it too much thought, I retrieve the file, rolling it and shoving it into the waist of my slacks before I tuck the box beneath my arm and return to her.

She stares up at me, one eye swollen and full of tears. “I’m so sorry,” she chokes out. “This is my fault.”

“No.” I wrap an arm around her waist again and pull her against me. “This is not your fault.” We stumble toward the door, my adrenaline giving me enough of a boost that I don’t pay attention to my own injuries. Which, I’m sure, are impressive enough. I can feel them, the pain in my chest where claws tore at my skin.

We barely make it to the top of the stairs without falling. I release her and shut the door, sealing the death below by sliding the cabinet in front of it. Then, I heave her up again, and we limp outside.

A black van sits just behind the main house. “We’re going to be fine,” I tell her. Though Doloris’s final words run through my mind on sadistic repeat. “You can’t save her.”

I pull the passenger door of the van open and help Rainey inside. I don’t hand her the box though. Instead, I carry it around to the driver’s side and set it in my lap as I reach down and rip the console beneath the steering wheel open.

After finding the wires I’m looking for, I pull, tearing them loose before wrapping them together. The van comes to life, and I slam my foot onto the accelerator, determined to put as much distance between me and the Astor estate as quickly as possible.

40

Rainey

After everything that took place tonight, being back at my apartment feels so surreal. The coffee mug I’d rinsed four days ago when we left town still sits in the same place beside my sink.

And yet, literally everything in my life has changed.

My sister uncovered some crazy-ass plot to kill women born during a full moon on Halloween, which is probably what got her killed. I apparently had some psychotic break because I opened a box, and Elijah now thinks I’m a witch.

Not that he’s said much since we found the van. In fact, I haven’t heard him speak since he told the pilot we wanted to return to Billings. Thanks to a quick phone call, he’d been waiting for us at the airstrip when we arrived.

The nearly two-hour flight passed in complete silence, the night’s events weighing heavily on us both. I’d been pretty dazed when I’d woken up after nearly being suffocated, but I had been alert enough to notice the carnage surrounding us.

It looked like a bomb went off. And one look at Elijah told me he was that bomb. I could only guess what had detonated him, but I dared to believe it was my near-death experience.

“I’m going to grab a shower,” I tell him. He doesn’t respond, just sets the box on the counter in front of him and slides onto a stool.

I flip the light switch right inside my bathroom before I shut the door behind me. Then, after turning on the shower so it can warm, I hold my breath and lift my gaze to the mirror. The woman before me has the same eyes, the same facial shape, and yet, I barely recognize her.

Blood is crusted to my face, covering nearly all of my freckles. My hair is a tangled mess, my mouth swollen. One of my eyes is black, the bruising already fading to a grotesque purple and yellow.

My sides are still tender, though my hunter blood has healed the broken ribs. Still, I look like shit and I feel much, much worse.

I’ve suffered more severe injuries in the past. My reminder does little to soothe me though, and rage burns through me. I slam my fist into the mirror. Glass rains down on me, shards of my reflection falling to the floor, and a sob rips free from my chest.

I throw my head back and cry out seconds before my door is ripped clean off the hinges.

Elijah stands there, wild-eyed as he takes in the scene before me.

I don’t have anything to say to him. My leaving the bunker nearly got us both killed. He warned me not to, and I did it anyway. And yet, he still cared for me, brought me back home when he could have just left me in Salem.

I’ve dismissed him at every turn. Told him time and time again I wanted nothing to do with him because of what he is—what could happen to us should we give in.

Not once has he told me he hated me because of my blood. And even now, I can hear the way his breath catches, the heavy thumping of his heart—so much faster than my own. Even after what we discovered tonight, after I supposedly nearly killed him with my own hands, he still looks upon me with passion as though I’m the only thing that matters in this entire fucked-up world.

Bright blue eyes stare straight into my own. The intensity of his gaze making me feel completely naked even though I stand before him fully clothed—or what’s left of them anyway. I know he can sense the effect he has on me.

The way he holds my beating heart even as I’ve fought him at every turn.

It’s dangerous—the way I feel.

Uncharted waters.

A vampire and a hunter. Hell, it’s condemned. As I mentioned before, my entire faction would turn their backs on me—even more so than they already have. We would be hunted to the ends of the earth until they have both our heads on spikes.

And yet, I ache to let him in. To give him a part of me I never realized I possessed. A vise squeezes my heart as my gaze travels over the partially healed injuries covering his body. Blood smears his muscled chest through the shirt shredded by the claws of the shifters, hanging in tatters from his body.

He nearly died tonight.

Came close to sacrificing himself to save me. My breathing is heavy as I stare at him, my chest rising and falling at a rate that’s steadily increasing the longer I stand here pondering my next move. Ice-blue eyes never leave mine as he takes a cautioned step toward me.

I swallow hard.

If I do this, everything will change.

My mission.

My life.

My future.

None of it will be the same, and yet, I know there’s no fucking way I can walk away now. Who knows, maybe everything changed the moment he slid onto that barstool beside me. And damn, doesn’t that feel like lifetimes ago.

I rush toward him, and he moves to me. We clash in the middle. Body against body, heat on heat as his hand grips the back of my neck, tipping my face back and devouring my mouth. His kiss is bruising, the power behind it matched only by my own. Rolling my shoulders back, I shed my jacket, never breaking the kiss.

It falls to the floor, and I bury my hands in his hair, gripping the strands still matted with the blood of our attackers. I can taste it now as his tongue dives into my mouth. The coppery tang invading my senses and bringing to life the primal hunter living within me.

The one that hungers for the blood of battle.

He slams me into the wall, the sheetrock behind me denting with the force of his strength. Elijah grinds his body against mine, perfectly molded to me. His dick is hard, the evidence of his arousal pressing against my belly. Heat envelops me, a flame of desire burning so hot it threatens to leave nothing but a charred corpse behind.

And I don’t fucking care if it kills me.

Elijah’s hands slide down my body lower, lower until he reaches the hem of my tattered shirt and rips. The cotton tears, and he tosses it to the floor in shreds. Frantic to feel his skin, I grip the front of what’s left of his own destroyed shirt and rip it apart. Buttons pop and snap off, falling to the floor. I run both palms up his hard chest, feeling the warm skin beneath my fingertips. It only throws gasoline on the flames.

Too soon, Elijah pulls away, stepping back from me. His pupils dilated, the ice-blue nothing but a slender ring around the black, he swallows hard as he takes in my bared skin. I worry he’s going to change his mind, decide he doesn’t want me. That being with me will be far too dangerous. So before he can say anything, I reach down and unbutton the top of my jeans. Slowly, I lower them, slipping them off my body and stepping out.

He sucks in a breath, and his pupils dilate even further, nearly obliterating all color. I’m unleashing him—the animal I glimpsed earlier, and I can’t wait for him to feed on me.

To devour me.

To fuck me senseless until nothing else matters.

“I want you,” I tell him. “Don’t pull away from me.”

A low growl slips from his throat. I clench my thighs together in an attempt to ease the throbbing between them. He doesn’t move though, so I reach behind me and unsnap my bra before letting it slip down.

Whatever was restraining him snaps, and he’s on me before it hits the floor. His hands are everywhere, all over my body. I barely feel when he rips the cotton underwear from me and grips my ass, lifting me up so I’m straddling him, he slams us into the wall again and I reach down between us, desperation taking over.

“I want to come with you inside of me,” I whisper against his mouth. “Please, Elijah.”

“Fuck,” he whispers against my lips and steps back just enough to put some space between us. My back against the wall, his hands on my thighs, he holds me up as I unsnap the buttons on his slacks and shove them down.

I grip his dick and squeeze gently as I guide it—and him forward. With one thrust, he slams into me, and I cry out, my head resting against the wall as he fucks me—mercilessly—the animal inside of him fully freed as he drives into me. There’s no soft love between us, no calm, collected whispers of promises.

Here, against this wall, we let it all go and just give in to desire.

Freeing the monsters inside both of us.

“Yes,” I whisper, and he takes my mouth as he thrusts into me again, again. My orgasm builds inside of me, a wave of pleasure rushing over and through me. Stars burst in my vision as I shatter around him.

He pulls back, fangs descended, eyes nearly completely black. His gaze flickers down to my throat, so I tilt my head to the side. “Do it,” I tell him.

He shakes his head, thrusting harder.

“Do it, Elijah. I want you to.” Hell if I know why, but the thought of him owning me that way—it’s something I want more than anything in the world.

Elijah groans and buries his face in my neck. Wet warmth slides over the skin of my throat a moment before the faintest crunch fills my ears, the instant pain replaced with something far more alluring.

Forbidden.

His moan vibrates against my throat, and the steady pull of my blood hums in my ears. As another orgasm builds inside of me, I realize just how fucking deep I’m into this. Into him.

He comes, his dick pulsing inside of me, and he takes one last drink of my blood before pulling back and staring into my eyes, crimson beads falling from his mouth.

Even as I’ve tried to fight it, Elijah owns me.

And based on the way he’s looking at me? I own him too.

41

Rainey

Darkness envelops me, settling around and comforting me like a familiar blanket would a child. For here, I have nothing to fear.

Here, in this place, I am what others are afraid of. The monster beneath the bed. The killer in the dark.

“You found us,” the melodious voice wraps around me, seemingly coming from every direction.

“Who are you?”

“We are you,” it replies. “You are us. We are all one.”

I peer ahead, unable to make out anything beyond the inky tendrils that seem even darker than the pitch black around me. A voice inside me screams, begging for me to leave this home I’ve found.

But I shake it off.

“Come to us, Rainey. We’ve been waiting for you. The others, they thought they’d destroy us, and really, they were our salvation.”

“What do you mean?” I move forward, further into the darkness.

“They freed us from our separate bodies, allowed us to be together. We are stronger together—as one.”

I take another step, followed by another, as the dread is replaced with excitement. This is what I was born for, who I’m supposed to be. Everything I’ve been through, everyone I’ve lost has led me here.

Someone screams, but I barely hear it as the inky black grows larger the closer I get. Before I know it, I’m running through the abyss, pumping my arms and legs as fast as I can.

“Stop,” a layered voice orders, and I obey.

The dark moves toward me now, and the closer it gets, the more I see the shape morphing into that of a silhouette.

“Who are you?” I ask, desperate for answers. “What is this place? What am I?”

The being steps forward and stops just before me. Something snaps, and light floods the space. I’m no longer surrounded by dark. Now I stand in a sea of red.

A woman stands before me, dark brown—nearly black strands of hair covering her face as she looks down. She’s naked save for a dagger in her left hand. And when she looks up at me, when her familiar eyes meet mine, I gasp and stumble backward. Three black crows fly down, perching atop her bare shoulder.

“No.” I fall, tripping over something I can’t see until I’m lying on the ground staring into Elijah’s empty blue eyes. His chest is covered in blood, his face bruised and broken. “No!” I scream and reach for him. “Elijah!” I shake his body, but he’s already cold. I scramble to my feet as I stare at myself. Only, she’s not me, though we’re identical. Her smile is far too sinister—too evil—and suddenly, the voice that had been screaming at me, begging for me to turn back, makes sense.

I turn, running as fast as I can in the opposite direction. A hole appears before me, and I slide to a stop but don’t manage to get far before it swallows me whole.

My stomach lurches, my heart pounding as I fall, my descent taking me further and further into the dark.

* * *

I shoot up in bed, covers pooling at my waist as I frantically suck in breath after breath. Just a nightmare, I tell myself, though I can’t help but worry if it wasn’t some kind of foretelling. Some hint at what’s to come.

Elijah sleeps softly beside me, his head propped up on one of his arms. I take a deep breath, focusing on the peaceful expression reflected on his handsome face.

But when I turn back toward the end of my bed, that peace vanishes as I stare directly at myself. The dagger in her—my—hand is covered in blood and I can hear it drip onto my floor even though it should have been silent. The three crows sit on top of my footboard, staring at me with black, beady eyes.

“Who are you?” I demand. Elijah stirs beside me.

She—or I—grins, and crimson spills from her mouth just before she answers, her response filling me with terror, unlike anything I’ve ever felt. “Didn’t we tell you?” she asks, her layered voice full of malice. “We are you. We are one.”

She opens her mouth and screams, black smoke pouring from her. Inky black tendrils reach for me. They claw at my ankles, and I reach for Elijah.

“Elijah! Elijah!” I scream his name, but as I’m dragged toward the edge of the bed—into the black abyss waiting for me—I know there is no one who can help me now.

* * *

The series continues in Blood Captive, releasing October 22nd! Click here to pre-order! As always, if I meet my pre-order goal, I’ll release the book earlier than the scheduled date!

Did you enjoy? Please help me meet my review goal for this release! Click here to leave an honest review!

Need someone to vent to about that ending? Come hang out in my Facebook group! Click here to join Jessica Wayne’s Whiskey Thieves!

Also By Jessica Wayne

Vampire Huntress Chronicles

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Blood Captive

Blood Cure

Cambrexian Realm : The Complete Series

The realm’s deadliest assassin has met her match.

The Last Ward: FREE READ

Warrior Of Magick

Guardian Of Magick

Shades Of Magick

The Tethered Saga: The Complete Series

A two hundred year old curse and love that spans centuries.

Tethered Souls

Broken Tether: FREE READ

Collateral Damage

The Prophecy Series: The Complete Series

Ana has spent her entire life at the clutches of her enemy. Now, it’s time for war.

Phoenix

Fighter

Sorceress

The Gypsy’s Curse: The Complete Series

An ancient curse. A headstrong detective. A gypsy seer cursed with visions of death. And a bloodthirsty druid determined to kill them all.

Visions Of Death

Visions Of Vengeance

Visions Of Triumph

For more information, visit www.jessicawayne.com

About the Author

Photo Credit Mandi Rose Photography

Jessica Wayne is the author of over twenty fantasy and contemporary romance novels. The latter of which she writes as J.W. Ashley. During the day, she slays laundry and dishes as a homeschooling stay at home mom of three, and at night her worlds come to life on paper.

She runs on coffee and wine (as well as the occasional whiskey!) and if you ever catch her wearing matching socks, it’s probably because she grabbed them in the dark.

She is a believer of dragons, unicorns, and the power of love, so each of her stories contain one of those elements (and in some cases all three).

Jessica lives in Texas with her husband, kids, their two German Shepherds who think they’re both cats, and a fluffy orange cat named Leo who thinks he’s a dog.

You can usually find her in her Facebook group, The Wayne-O’s, or keep in touch by subscribing to her newsletter where she shares updates as well as shenanigans she finds herself in.

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Long Road Home: Coming home was always part of the plan. He was not.

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