Pak had made certain she was protected.
She found the key she’d hidden so carefully on her last visit. The scent of pine teased her nose. Birds chirped from their nests high in the trees. “Come on,” she said. “We’re both about to crash.” And after the night they’d had, the crash would be hard.
A flick of her hand and the key slid into the lock. The door opened soundlessly and the place was just as she’d left it. Rocking chair, faded rug, the quilt she’d—
“Uh, are those stakes?”
A smile lifted her lips as she stared at the glass gun cabinet. “Stakes…” She crossed the room and spun the lock, turning the code automatically. “Knives, guns. Everything we need to be ready for those bastards.”
Her hand lifted and opened the door. Then her fingers smoothed over the wood and tested the sharp points of the stakes. If she’d been better armed before, they wouldn’t have been on the run now. No way would she be caught unaware again. Out here, every sound was magnified. Human ears or not, she’d hear the assholes coming long before they stepped onto her small porch.
“You hate them, don’t you?”
At his soft question, Dee glanced back and found Simon watching her with hooded eyes.
No need to ask about the “them” in question. “Don’t you?” She fired back. “I know what happened, Simon. I know they killed your family. Slaughtered them, just like they did mine.”
His jaw tightened and he slammed the cabin door closed with his heel. “I want those bastards. I want them to pay.” He wrenched the lock into place and stalked toward her. “I took some of them out already. Hunted them down…” He reached behind her, grabbed one of the deadly stakes, “and made them beg for death.”
Her breath caught. Vengeance. How long had she wanted it?
“How long have you been hunting the ones who killed your family, Dee?”
“Since that night.” A stark whisper. But she’d been little more than a kid. She hadn’t known where to hunt. Hadn’t known how to track. By the time she’d learned, they’d been long gone from the city. “I won’t stop,” she told him and her gaze darted to his hand. The stake was so sharp. So deadly. “Not until I find the bastards.” Because she’d never forget their faces. Never.
He pulled back a bit and lifted the stake between them. “How many vampires have you killed? How many did you stake because you were trying to punish the ones who hurt you?”
Her eyes narrowed. What was this? She wasn’t in the mood for some kind of therapy session. Not her thing. “The vamps I staked were killers. They got off on fear, on torture—”
“So vampires are all evil? They all have to be put out of their misery and given a one-way ticket to hell?”
“Aren’t they?” He’d hunted, too. Just like me. She caught his hand and wrapped her fingers around the stake. “I’ve never met one who wasn’t addicted to the power.” That was the problem with vamps. As humans, maybe they’d been okay, normal even, but when they woke as vampires, the power rush got to them. Human life lost its meaning.
Humans became nothing more than prey. No, food. And so many vamps enjoyed playing with their food.
He grunted. “I have.”
“What?”
His lips thinned and pulled away from her, dropping the stake onto the floor. “The vamps who went after my family. Hell, yeah, they were freaks. Sick, twisted bastards who deserve hell, but I-I’ve met vamps who aren’t pure evil.”
She stared at him, waited.
Simon exhaled. “You need to open your mind, babe. You got a raw deal. We both did, but hating every vampire isn’t gonna bring your folks back.” A pause. “Killing ’em all won’t either. Trust me, I know.”
Dammit, she knew that, too. But when she’d first started hunting, the rage of revenge had been all she’d had.
She hadn’t wanted to live. When the remains of her parents, and, God, Sara, were hauled out the next day, she hadn’t wanted to take another breath. She’d fallen to her knees, wished for death.
Even thought about—
Dee shook her head, hard. Her mother had died for her, no way would she have taken the easy way out. “Sometimes vengeance is the only thing that keeps you going.” Especially once you found out the world wasn’t the happy, picture perfect postcard all the TV ads promised you.
His hands fisted at his sides. “There’s more to life than death, Dee.”
Her lips trembled at that. Not a smile. Not yet. “Tell that to the vamps.”
“I’m telling it to you.”
She swallowed. “Why are you here? Why did you track me to that vampire hell? What do you—”
“Would you rather I’d just left you in the pool of blood? Left you with the body and with the cops on the way?” His shoulders stiffened. “Well, fuck, next time I’ll know to just leave you the hell alone.”
He spun away. She reached for him. Her fingers brushed over his shoulder.
Simon stilled.
“I’m not good at this emotional stuff,” she told him, and felt rough, awkward. “I know how to fight. I know how to kill. I don’t know how to—” Love. No, no, they weren’t talking about love.
Don’t go there.
But he wanted more from her than she was used to giving. That need was there in his eyes, in his voice, in the rough demand of his questions. Simon wasn’t going to settle for small offerings from her. He wasn’t that kind of guy. She’d have to open up to him if she wanted to keep him.
And she wanted to keep him with her. Maybe the best way to do that was to start by being civil. She could do that. She could drop her guard and try being normal.
So she let the armor fall and jerked up her big girl panties. “Thank you for pulling my butt out of that place.”
He glanced at her. “Hard, wasn’t it?”
Uh, yeah.
“You’re not used to needing anyone else.”
No, even at Night Watch, she usually worked on her own. She liked it that way. If you had a partner, you’d start to care too much.
Then it would hurt like a bitch when the partner left…or died. Hunters at Night Watch didn’t always have the longest life expectancy.
Slowly, he turned fully toward to her. His hand lifted, skimmed her cheek. “I told you I knew about the Born coming to the city.” His fingers were light, but strong. His thumb brushed over her lips. “Every vamp in the city is lit up because of him. Some are scared shitless. Some are thrilled.”
Because some loved to see death and chaos.
“He’ll bring hell, Dee. Born Masters have too much power. He’ll bring the vamps he’s turned, all those…” A gritted jaw, then, “puppets that he controls, and he’ll burn down the city if he can.”
Borns didn’t come out and play much in the States. Not much at all. Because when they played, life ended.
“I’m going to stop him,” she breathed the words against his fingertip. She would stop him. Dee was certain of that. Maybe not too sure of the how part of the equation, but she’d find a way to stop him. There wasn’t any other choice.
“No.”
She blinked.
“We’ll stop him.” A vow. Then he kissed her.
Just what she’d been wanting.
Dee rose onto her toes, locked her arms around him, and held on tight.
So she sucked with emotions and nice words, but getting physical was definitely her strong suit.
His tongue thrust into her mouth and she moaned, loving that strong glide. His lips were firm, hard, just what she wanted, and her nipples tightened as need burned through her.
The aches, the pains, the fears—all faded away.
Lust. Hunger. Need—all that remained.
His hands slid down her back, curled over her ass, and jerked her up high against him.
No mistaking the swollen ridge of his cock.
Good, I’m not alone in this.