by Zahra Stone
Then my eyes locked onto the most sinfully delicious man I’d ever seen. Tall, over six-foot, with broad shoulders and dark hair—from here, it looked black, but that could be attributed to the club's dim lighting. Dressed in black jeans and a close-fitting long-sleeve black T-shirt that molded to his chiseled body. He looked dark, dangerous, and undeniably sexy. Raising my glass to my lips, I took a long, slow sip, unable to tear my eyes away.
When he looked up and spotted me staring at him, I knew. For despite his stunning gray eyes, whisker-stubbled jaw, and sensual mouth—he was a vampire. Bingo. We continued to stare at each other for several drawn-out seconds, his gaze intent, mine seductive—I hoped. When he bent to talk to the woman by his side, I quickly gulped my drink to calm my suddenly racing heart. Then he was walking toward me, his gait smooth, powerful, as he weaved his way through the crowd to my side.
“Hello, handsome,” I said in my most alluring voice.
“Hey,” he responded, his voice as smooth as honey. I looked into his gray eyes, mesmerized. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“Sure.” I smiled. He signaled the bartender, and faster than I could blink, a fresh drink appeared in front of me. If only I could garner that type of service.
“Are you here by yourself?” He asked, leaning one elbow on the bar, his body angled toward me.
“Do you want me to be?” With him, my flirting felt stilted, unnatural. With the others, it had been an easy act—flutter my lashes, act coy, and they were all mine. But with him? With him, it was different. I didn’t feel in control at all. Along with his blinding good looks came a sense of power, one that sent me reeling.
“I’d like it if you were.” His voice was low, intimate, and I shivered. I opened my mouth to reply, but words failed me. His smile deepened, and his eyes moved from my mouth to my neck, which I stretched reflexively. He traced a finger along my jaw, and I shivered, thrown off guard.
“Shall we go?” He asked. I felt dazed and slightly panicked. Was I in over my head with this vampire? No, I scolded myself. You’ve got this. You’re a kick-ass vampire hunter. Pull yourself together. Just because he looks like he could ride you every which way, including Sunday, does not mean he gets a free pass.
“Go?” I tore my gaze from him and watched the dance floor instead, tried to focus on anything but him. I needed to get my head straight.
“Mmmm.” His fingers wrapped around a loose tendril of my hair and toyed with it. “Somewhere quieter. I’d like to… get to know you better.”
Nice. Usually, I was the one trying to lure my prey out of the bar. They were always eager, blindly agreeing to get in the car with me since I knew a place where we wouldn’t be disturbed. Of course, they’d been expecting my apartment, and even when they’d stepped over the threshold into the warehouse, they hadn’t twigged, hadn’t realized I didn’t need to invite them in. I assumed they were in the early stages of bloodlust and blindly followed, intent on nothing but sinking their fangs into my vein. Then I’d bring out my fire lasso, and well, we all know how that ends.
“That sounds good,” I responded, a little surprised with just how excited my voice was.
He chuckled, brushing my neck with the back of his fingers. I shivered. I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or pleasure—how could I possibly be attracted to a vampire? They were the enemy. I needed to hurry this along, get this over with and remove the temptation standing so close to me.
“What’s your name?” I asked, easing away from him, giving myself some breathing room that I so desperately needed. For a moment, I’d forgotten where I was and what I was doing here.
“Does it matter?” he murmured.
“I guess not.” He was right. It didn’t matter at all.
“Let’s go.” Placing my drink on the bar, I led the way outside, feeling him close behind me. He was so damn tall. He towered over me, made me feel even smaller than I was. At five feet two and one hundred and three pounds, I was, as someone had once described, a pocket rocket. I used it to my advantage because vampires, hell, men in general, thought I was weak. Easily subdued. Their assumptions were seriously misplaced, for even without my fire demon abilities, I knew how to defend myself. I’d been studying Gilan Cae martial arts since I was twelve, and I was damn good at it.
“My car’s this way.” He touched my elbow, guiding me toward a dark SUV.
“Oh, I thought we’d take mine.” I pointed to my blue Volkswagen Golf parked not ten feet away. I’d need my car to get back home—and I didn’t want to have to deal with his vehicle being abandoned outside the warehouse.
He stopped and looked down at me for a moment—I couldn’t see his face clearly in the dark, but he appeared to be thinking about it before shrugging and heading toward my car.
I was nervous. I didn’t usually get nervous, not anymore; I had my act down pat. Flirt with them, make them think they were in control, that they were going to get what they wanted. It was easy, and I was confident. But with him, I wasn’t so sure, and that made me nervous. My heart rate was up, and I could feel sweat beading on my upper lip.
In the small confines of the car, his presence was even more overwhelming.
“Are you wearing cologne?” I asked, fastening my seatbelt and sliding the key in the ignition.
“No,” he replied, buckling his belt. Oh. That meant this effect was all him. Damn. I pulled out from the curb, and an uneasy silence descended. Usually, they were chatty, telling me how sexy I was, how much they wanted me, all of that stuff they thought I wanted to hear. Not this guy. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He appeared relaxed, his hands resting loosely on his knees. He was looking straight ahead, not paying me the slightest bit of attention.
Thankfully, the drive to the warehouse was short, and my nerves were starting to change to anticipation. I rolled to a stop and killed the engine, releasing my belt. It was dark here. I’d intentionally broken the street lamp outside and removed the bulb from above the warehouse door—no need to draw attention to what went on here.
Before I could get out of the car, he turned to face me, grabbing my hand.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked, his face unreadable. Again, this was something that had never happened before. Usually, they were helping me out of the car at this point, all handsy, brushing my hair from my neck and practically drooling at the prospect of my blood. Again, not this guy.
“I’m sure.” I smiled, showing my even white teeth. I’d perfected this smile. It was the one that looked like I was happy, but if you looked carefully, if you looked hard enough, you’d know it didn’t reach my eyes. I was acting. But they never looked hard enough.
He studied me for a moment longer before releasing my hand and opening his door. Right, we’re doing this. It was vital that he walk into the warehouse ahead of me. It gave me the element of surprise, allowed me the few scant seconds I needed to call forth my flame and trap him.
“After you.” He stood just in front of the door, gesturing me to go ahead of him. Shit!
“You go. I’m right behind you.” I returned his gesture, trying to usher him ahead of me.
“I insist, ladies first.” He stood resolute, and I cursed his good manners. I had no choice but to enter ahead of him; otherwise, we’d both be standing outside arguing over who went first, and that would look not only foolish but suspicious, and I needed to keep him oblivious as to what was about to happen.
“Fine.” I’d muttered it under my breath, but I caught the smirk that curled his lip as I stepped forward. He’d heard me, not surprising given his vampire-enhanced hearing. I didn’t want to alert him to my fire demon status, so rather than lighting the warehouse with a fireball, I flicked the light switch. A single bulb illuminated a small area, but it was all the light I needed.
“Nice place,” he drawled. When I turned to face him, I was not expecting what happened next. He punched me in the side of the head. Hard. So hard I was out, crumpling to the floor in an unconscious heap.<
br />
Chapter Three
“Urgh.” I groaned, my head throbbing. “Whaa?”
“Finally.” The sound of his voice had my eyes springing open. What the hell? Confused, I tried to get my head around my current situation… which was chained to a pole in my very own warehouse. My arms were stretched above my head, my toes barely reached the floor, and my head hurt like a son of a bitch.
I immediately summoned my flame, tried to burn the chains keeping me captive, but all I managed to do was heat the chain until it burned my skin. Damn it. Then I tried my lasso, but with my hands restrained, I couldn’t wield it, and it flopped around in front of me, useless.
“Finished?” He was sitting on the fold-out chair I’d bought for this very purpose. Interrogating my captives. Only this time, I was on the receiving end, and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what was to come.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, tugging at my aching wrists.
“You tell me.” I didn’t like being on the receiving end, I decided. Not at all. Tugging harder, I twisted and turned, trying to dislodge the chains, at least get one wrist free so that I could use my flame against him. Eventually, he must have gotten tired of watching me, for suddenly he was in front of me, his fingers wrapped around my throat, lifting me off the ground.
I choked, gasping for air, my eyes meeting his as he slowly squeezed the life out of me. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I kicked at him with my feet. A shoe flew off, clattering to the floor. Spots appeared in my vision, and my struggles stopped. I was dying. I couldn’t believe it. Me? A vampire hunter. A fire demon. Dying at the hands of a vampire—and so damn easy too. Like it was no effort for him at all to hold me up by the neck with one hand while I fought for breath. My eyes fluttered closed, and then, only then, did he release me.
One foot hit the floor, and I wobbled madly. Without my shoe, the other foot didn’t reach the floor at all. Gasping and coughing, I sucked in a breath, trying to calm my ragged breathing, focus on the breath that my lungs had been starved for. He watched dispassionately.
“Who are you?” It was hard to speak through my bruised throat, and I couldn’t contain the wince.
“Who I am doesn’t matter. The question is, who are you?” He remained in front of me. Close. Too close for comfort. I clamped my mouth shut and eyeballed him.
“Don’t want to talk? That’s okay, little one. I’ll help you, shall I?” He leaned in so close I could feel his breath on my cheek. I shuddered. Then his face was at my neck, and he breathed in, whispering, “Delicious,” and I closed my eyes. Then his mouth was on my neck, his tongue brushing over the vein that was pounding wildly, then the graze of his teeth. His fangs. Oh god. He was going to bite me. I’d never been bitten, had avoided that catastrophe all this time, but now it was my turn, and I quaked at the prospect.
“Who do you work for?” Another scrape of his teeth.
“No one.” I choked, hating the fear in my voice. I wanted to be stronger than this, but I wasn’t an idiot. He was an old vampire. Had to be. He had power, skills, and smarts. I’d been outwitted, and I had to applaud that. Had he played me all along? Or was it only when we arrived at the warehouse that he realized something was up?
He raised his head, leaned one hand above my head while he crowded in close. I pushed myself back against the pole I was chained to, tried to drive myself all the way through and out the other side—of course, it doesn’t work like that. I was trapped.
“Bullshit. Try again. Who. Do. You. Work. For?” Each word was punctuated by his fingers inching around the back of my neck and then jerking, forcing my head to bang painfully against the pole but also giving him easier access to my artery.
“I don’t work for anyone.” I tried to hide my fear from him, but no doubt he could sense it leaking from me—let’s not kid ourselves, it wasn’t leaking, it was pouring out of me in waves. I was shit scared, and he knew it.
“Too bad. I liked you.” Then he bit me. I screamed. A startled, garbled sound. Through the pain of his fangs piercing my skin, I felt him pull deeply, swallowing my blood, my life. Some sense of self-preservation kicked in, and I struggled, letting my aching wrists hold my body weight I wrapped my legs around him and squeezed as hard as I could.
It kind of worked. He raised his head, his tongue sweeping across his bottom lip to capture the blood that lingered there. Screwing up my face, I squeezed my thighs around him as tightly as I could. Only he wasn’t reacting to my crushing grip.
“That’s some grip you’ve got,” he commented, and I stopped, looking at him in shock.
“Some grip?” I practically shouted, outraged. “I’ve got thighs of steel, mister. You should be screaming in agony by now. Why aren’t you?” I didn’t know where this blast of anger came from, this rush of adrenaline, but I wasn’t going to question it. I just went with it.
He threw his head back and laughed, which only served to incite me even further.
“Maybe because I’m a hundred-and-eighty-year-old vampire who’s stronger than you.” His humor eased, and he looked me over, his eyes focusing on my neck where I could feel the warm wetness where he’d bitten me. It continued to throb, and even though I was a fast healer, I wasn’t that fast. I hoped I didn’t bleed out here.
With startling ease, he reached behind, unhooked my ankles from where they only just met behind his lower back, and removed my legs from their death grip around his waist.
“Not that I wasn’t enjoying that…” He grinned wolfishly. “But we’ve got work to do.”
“Work?” I wasn’t following. What did he mean, work?
Stepping back, he let my legs drop, and this time I lost the other shoe. I couldn’t reach the ground and dangled, my shoulders screaming, the chains biting into my wrists painfully.
“You were about to tell me who you work for.” He grabbed the chair, flipped it around, straddled it, and sat, resting his forearms over the back.
“I’ve already told you, I don’t work for anyone.” I tried to get a grip of the pole with my bare feet, get some traction to ease the pressure on my arms.
“I find that hard to believe. You see, yesterday I saw you being most alluring with a vampire, promising him all sorts of delights. Then you brought him here but left alone a short time later. Imagine my surprise when I found nothing left of that poor unfortunate vampire except for a dusting of ash and a pile of clothes.” His eyes traveled to a drum in the corner of the warehouse where I’d been throwing the clothes and other items the vampires I’d ended had on their bodies when they’d died.
“Seems you’ve been doing this a while,” he continued. “I counted thirteen wallets.”
Fuck. Should have got rid of the evidence. What a rookie mistake, I berated myself. I’d ditched their phones, ripped out their sim cards, and snapped them in half, but everything else I’d shoved into that drum with the intent that I’d incinerate it all. I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
“You knew him?” No point denying it. What I hadn’t factored in with my hunting games was that vampires might have friends who’d come looking for them. Even worse, old, powerful friends, for the older the vampire, the stronger they were. I had a feeling I was shit out of luck.
“No.” He shook his head, returning his attention to me, studying me with what appeared to be great consideration. “So, if you’re not working for anyone, as you claim, why are you killing vampires? What did these men do to you?”
“They’re vampires!” I cried. That was reason enough. Bloodsucking, soulless vermin.
“You’re telling me you killed them purely because they were vampires?” An eyebrow arched, and his eyes took on a cold, hard intensity.
“Yes.” I was about to die. I could see it in his face. And if our positions were reversed, I would do the same. Kill the asshole who’d been killing my species. If someone were killing fire demons just because they were fire demons, I’d be pissed too.
“You’re facing quite the dilemma, aren’t you?” W
hat did he mean, a dilemma? I frowned, confused.
“I guess I should introduce myself.” He stood, approached me again, and I couldn’t help the flinch in response to his nearness. “My name is Nate Wilder, and I’m the Director of the Supernatural Investigation Agency.”
“SIA.” Of course, I’d heard of the SIA. Agent Jordan Buchanan had come to town to deal with our vampire problem, recruited my cousin Rae, and then buggered off with the job half done. “And what, exactly, is my dilemma?”
“Vigilante actions such as yours are what the SIA is here to stop. You’re breaking the law, and I’m going to have to take you in.”
“What? You’re arresting me?” I couldn’t believe it. The vampires were the problem here, not me!
“You’re killing vampires who have done nothing wrong. They are, believe it or not, innocent. You’ve gone rogue.”
I stared at him in absolute shock. Oh my god. Was he right? Had I turned into a monster myself? No. It couldn’t be. I was fighting the vampire problem in Maxxan; I was helping.
“They’re not innocent,” I protested. “I’m helping to rid Maxxan of the epidemic sweeping through our town.”
“Epidemic?” His brows rose. “Hardly. With the deadnettle crops gone, and the operation dismantled, that element has cleared out, searching for somewhere else to set up shop. Maxxan is no longer viable for them.”
“But the Gunslinger…we have to find the Gunslinger.”
“The Gunslinger has gone underground. That’s his MO, and he’s good at it. The sighting of him here is the first in years—he operates under the radar and has a loyal team protecting him. We’ll continue our search for him, but he is not our top priority.”
“Who is?”
“A rogue on the loose in Maxxan murdering vampires.”
The silence that followed was deafening. I was the bad guy. I dangled from the chains, my head spinning, taking in what he’d said. I’d been killing innocent vampires—was that why my investigation had stalled? Because my targets weren’t real targets, they were vampires, and I assumed they were involved because of their species. Closing my eyes, I reeled from the reality of it. I was the rogue. I was the criminal. I was wanted. I was a murderer.