Page 27 of Taste of Blood

“The fact that you carry an axe around in your trunk raises some serious questions.”

“Can you think of an easier way to separate a head from a body?”

He shrugs. “I guess I just never put two and two together.”

“What do you mean?” I ask as I reach for the latch on the gate.

“I accept the fact that your job demands that you kill occasionally. I just never thought about the reality of it.”

“I’ll be honest, it’s not something I enjoy. Fighting, beating a guy up–that I can get behind. This…well, it gets messy. Which reminds me, stay out of the way. In fact, I’d prefer that you wait in the car.”

“Not going to happen.”

I roll my eyes. “Figured you’d say that. Just keep to yourself and try not to get involved.” I glance at him with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to mess up your suit.”

He glares at me. “What about you?”

“Why do you think I always wear black?”

I approach the stoop and set the axe against the wall outside the door then knock, listening for any signs of life inside. I’m about to say fuck it and bust the door open when I hear the sound of locks disengaging. The door opens a crack and a bleary-eyed man I recognize from the photo Dante sent me stands there, peering out at me. He’s dressed in a white T-shirt and sleeping pants, his light hair disheveled like he just woke up. Judging by his activities last night, he probably just got to bed.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“Eduard Smyth?”

His eyes narrow. “Who wants to know?”

I don’t offer an explanation, just shove the door back and barrel inside. Smyth stumbles backward, almost falling over an ottoman. I don’t give him a chance to recover, grabbing the neck of his shirt and hauling him back to his feet. He stares at me, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. Asher follows me inside and shuts the door, and Smyth’s widened eyes dart between us. I have to admit, I’m getting off on the look of terror in them. Not so tough when it’s you on the receiving end, are you shithead?

“W-who are you?”

“Me?” I sneer. “Consider me justice. You’ve been a bad boy, Eddie, and I’m the motherfucker who’s going to punish you.”

12: Asher

CORD BALLS UP his fist and punches Smyth in the face, shattering the man’s nose in a spray of blood that blows back on Cord’s face. He doesn’t seem to notice it as he shoves Smyth hard against the wall.

“Wait! Wait!” Smyth protests, trying to push Cord back, but his attempts are futile. I know for a fact Cord is stronger than he looks.

Cord pauses, a maniacal grin on his face. It’s a side to him I’ve never seen before, and I don’t know how I feel about it.

He fists Smyth’s face and leans close, his gravelly voice imperious. “Not really interested in anything you’ve got to say, asshole.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“No? How about this?” He raises a single finger in front of Smyth’s face. “One. You butchered I don’t know how many women in four states over the last twenty years.” He delivers another crushing punch to the face then holds up another finger. “Two. You exposed the Clan with your carelessness.”

Another punch, another finger. “Three, and this one is personal. Youinconveniencedme for two days while I tracked your worthless ass down to this godforsaken dump.”

The punch closes Smyth’s left eye and elicits a pitiful whine. “But…we’re vampires. We’resupposedto kill.”

That earns him three quick body blows that double him over. Smyth is wheezing heavily as Cord grabs a chunk of his hair and yanks his head back.

“I don’t know what your sponsor taught you, though I’m damned sure going to find out who he was, but get this through your sick head. We are not here to kill humans.”

“Okay, okay. I won’t do it anymore. I swear.”

Cord chuckles again. “No, you definitely won’t.”