Page 93 of A Hunt Bound in Blood

He nodded. “I had to get the image out of my head. It was a recurring dream for years. The same scene, the same woman. I reached a point where I had to set it down on canvas or lose my mind. It took me ages to get it right.”

“Did it work? To get it out of your head, I mean.”

It was ridiculous that I should be jealous of a dream woman, but what else could I call the niggle of viciousness awakening within me, the wish that I could claw out her eyes? That would be the bloodlust, I told myself. A nasty side effect I’d never had an opportunity to experience before.

“It must have,” Cammon said. “I’ve had the dream a few times since I hung the painting, but not once since we started this journey.”

The beast inside me was mollified. In fact, it downright purred, and I was as annoyed by that reaction as I’d been by the jealousy.

“Do you miss her?” I asked.

Cammon shot me a glance. “I might. In time.”

I swallowed hard. “Maybe when you go home, she’ll come back.”

“Unlikely. I suspect that once I get home, she’ll be gone for good.”

The beast within raised an ear at his wistful tone, and something like hope, like a wish, woke alongside the bloodlust.

It meant nothing—because even if it did, life was what it was—but I hugged it close to me nonetheless.

We stepped out from among the trees, and as we did the rain eased, transitioning into a soft mist that danced across my face and decorated my hair. Our path took us higher, over a first set of hills that would lead us to the Widow’s Hood where our second-last clue waited. My legs complained with every step, but I pushed forward, refusing to be held back by the pain.

Halfway up the hill, the clouds thinned and the bright sunset shone in its luscious, golden splendour.

The moment its rays touched my skin, a sharp spasm cut through my middle, and I stumbled. The hunger pang had taken me off guard, but now that I’d noticed it, starvation swept through me. My fangs elongated, and my tender joints could no longer carry my weight. I dropped into the wet grass, braced myself on my hands, and shivered. Everything hurt, the discomfort so much worse than I’d endured while the sun was obscured.

The rest of the clouds parted, my skin sizzled, and I couldn’t hold back my screams. My arms gave out, and I pitched backwards before rolling down the hill.

Cammon

XL

I chased after Glory as she tumbled over the rough terrain. Her head smashed against a rock on her way down, and I picked up my pace when I spotted a smear of blood across the stone.

She finally reached the bottom of the hill, and I skidded to a stop by her side and pulled her half into my lap.

“Glory, are you all right? What was that? What’s going on?”

She was dazed, barely conscious but hanging on. When she opened her mouth to try to speak—her voice raspy and hoarse, her words unintelligible—I noticed her fangs and the whiteness of her gums.

The woman was starving, and she must have been for the past few days.

A cold sweat broke out over the back of my neck as fear pumped through my veins. I shifted her position in my lap, and when my fingers brushed her skin, she yelped at the contact. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to clasp her to my chest, but doing so would clearly be agony for her. A thin stream of blood trickled over the side of her face where she’d knocked her head, and her gaze turned bleary, consciousness fading.

My heart galloped against my ribs as I set her down in the grass as gently as I could.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Buttons?” I didn’t expect her to answer, doubting she was aware enough of her surroundings to hear me. With shaking hands, I raked my fingers through my hair.

Beneath my fear for her was a slithering anger that she’d kept the problem from me for so long. She’d endangered herself, me, the mission, our futures by keeping this secret. I bit down on my lips to contain the lecture bubbling inside me and set to work pulling her pack off her shoulders, cringing with every moan. Once it was free, I pawed through her bag until I found her red flask, but it was empty.

Hadn’t there been more?

I threw her pack onto the ground and stroked my fingers over her cheek, careful not to apply too much pressure but needing her to look at me. A whimper slipped through her lips, but her gaze sharpened.

“Where’s your backup supply?” I demanded.

A dry tongue flicked out over even drier lips. “Don’t know. Lost.”