Page 35

I took a few steps toward him, twirling my dagger between my fingers. “Never knew I had a fan.”

“Oh, you’re quite the legend in some circles,” he said, tugging on the sleeves of his leather jacket. It was nice – he had good taste, I’d give him that. “The fiery redhead with the golden blade. Some say you can smell us a mile away.”

I laughed. “And yet here you are, making my job easy.” I stopped a few paces from him. “Unless you’ve got something to trade, that is?”

His smile faltered for just a moment before returning, colder. “I know what you’re after. I can’t help you.” He began circling me with measured steps. “Though I will say, your reputation doesn’t do you justice. You’re much more… captivating in person.”

I mirrored his movements, maintaining the distance between us. “Maybe you’re not a fan after all – otherwise you’dknow flattery won’t get you far.”

He laughed, the sound bouncing between the concrete ground and the metal walls of the warehouse. “I’m just saying it like it is.”

In a blur of movement, he lunged. I pivoted, feeling the air rush past as his fist missed my face by inches, the driving heat in my blood rising up to meet him. I countered with a strike to his kidney, but he twisted away, impossibly fast.

“Good reflexes,” he noted, straightening his shirt. “But I’m not like the rest of them, little hunter.”

“No?” I smiled sweetly. “Funny how you all say that, and yet you all burn just the same.”

His next attack came from the side – a sweeping kick that would have taken my legs out if I hadn’t jumped over it. I used the momentum to drive my elbow into his temple, sending him staggering. Molten fire surged through me in a glorious rush as I followed with a flurry of strikes – knee to stomach, fist to throat, boot to chest. He crashed into a stack of old pallets that splintered under the impact.

“I’ve been at this for days. My patience is pretty fucking thin right now, so last chance,” I said, advancing on him. “Wyatt. Murray. Talk.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” he growled, though his eyes darted around, searching the shadows.

“Mm-hmm.” I flipped the dagger over, again and again, closing the short distance between us. “You’re full of shit.”

He charged again, feinting left before diving right. I read the move too late and caught a glancing blow to my ribs thatknocked the wind out of me. Before I could recover, he grabbed my jacket and hurled me into the door of the nearest warehouse, the sharp, rusting hinge of a door slicing deep into my left shoulder blade, straight through my jacket.

With a quick roll, I was back up in an instant, ignoring the fresh throb in my shoulder. The pain only stoked the inferno burning through me, turning it white-hot and fuelling our pure, savage dance.

“Okay, that wasn’t half bad,” I conceded, adjusting my grip on my dagger. “But I’ve killed stronger.”

“You hunt us like animals,” he spat. “We’re just trying to survive.”

I tried to resist rolling my eyes. I failed.

Pretending to retreat, my hands up in surrender, he predictably pressed his advantage, and I dropped to the ground, sweeping his legs out from under him. He went down hard, and I was on him in a second, my knee on his chest, dagger pressed against his throat.

“Names. Wyatt. Murray. What do you know?”

Fear flashed across his face, genuine this time. His eyes skimmed past me, to the rafters, the doorways, and the broken windows. My scalp prickled, and goosebumps spread across the skin of my forearms. There was someone else here.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “They’ll kill me.”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t,” I countered, pressing my blade deeper until a bead of blood welled up.

His face hardened “Just fucking do it. It’ll be faster.”

I studied him. He was serious. A newly turned vamp,absolutely bloody shitting himself and ready to die rather than… what?

“Who’s ‘they’?” I demanded.

Instead of answering, he bucked wildly, catching me off-guard. His fist connected with my jaw, and I swore as lights danced behind my eyes. I rolled with the blow, using the motion to flip backwards and regain my footing.

He was already running for the exit, moving with the desperate speed of true terror – it wasn’t quite the flitting I knew vampires were capable of, but there was no way I’d keep pace with him. I could have thrown my dagger – I might have even caught him – but something held me back as the heat in my blood cooled.

“Coward,” I muttered to myself. That was the fourth one tonight to waste my time – though I hadn’t let the others run, so the ache of unfulfilment in my veins wasn’t quite as hollow as it might have been.

As I turned to leave, running a hand through my hair, the familiar prickling sensation edged its way up my spine, stronger than ever. I whirled, casting my senses out across the darkened warehouse and into the night. But there was nothing. Just the wind, whispering through broken windows, and the far-off rumble of the city. Still, the feeling persisted – that oh-so-creepy awareness of being… stalked.