Page 18 of Immortal Hunter
Blood everywhere. His legs bent in ways he knew they should not go. Ewan screamed and fought the nurses holding him down until one of them jabbed a needle into his arm, and then his world went fuzzy. Warm. Peaceful. He watched as people in white coats scurried around him and his parents, but he wasn’t afraid anymore. Nothing mattered. Nothing but sleep.
He came back to himself on the floor next to his bed. “Fuck me. I had too bloody much to drink last night.” He’d obviously showered, the towel still wrapped around his waist. Mostly. But he couldn’t remember anything after getting into bed after his shift.
No more drinking. Ever.
By the time Ewan trudged downstairs, he felt almost…back to normal.
“Evening, sir,” he said to the old man as he tied on his apron.
“You must be hurting this morning, son.” Alfie poured him a mug of coffee and slid it across the bar.
A vague current of unease ran through him, but just as quickly as it came on, it faded away, and Ewan shook his head. “No. I feel brilliant. Yer sayin’ I should be pure done in?”
With one bushy brow arched, Alfie slid a tab towards him. “You drank your entire night’s wages. Plus tips.”
Ewan stared down at the receipt, his handwriting getting shakier and shakier with every line. “Shite. Twelve drinks? How am I still standin’?”
“You weren’t last night. I closed up for you.”
Ewan’s cheeks burned, and he stared down at his shoes. “I owe ya’ an apology then. I dinnae mean to disappoint ya’.”
Patting Ewan’s shoulder on his way to the kitchen, Alfie made a vague clicking sound with his tongue. “Just get your head on straight, son. That’s all I need.”
* * *
Kára
Her cry echoed off the walls of her bedroom, and she jerked up as something inside her cracked into a million pieces. Half of her was…missing. Her heart. Slamming her palm against her chest, she tried to sense the beat, but…she found only silence.
“Ewan! No!” Her muscles felt like spaghetti, and she stumbled to the front door, desperately trying to open the lock, and when it wouldn’t budge, she ripped the wood from its hinges, only to whimper and fall on her ass when the last rays of the sun blistered her naked skin. Crawling back to her bedroom, she hid under the bed, shaking all over as the adrenaline wore off and the pain overtook her.
Too bright. Even hidden by the blanket, her body protested the UV rays, and her fangs ached. She needed blood, but the short trek to her kitchen would be a death sentence.
As she huddled in a ball, she tried to sense him. Her mate. But where the warmth from their fragile bond had once been, now she found only emptiness.
The hour she had to wait until sunset felt like an eternity, but when the sky darkened, she clawed her way out from under the bed. Dressing quickly—and wearing Ewan’s shirt so she could have his scent all around her—she sucked down the last of her bottled blood and took off at a run.
* * *
Kára lockedeyes with Ewan as soon as she entered the pub, but he only nodded and waved his hand towards the few empty tables by the door. “Sit anywhere ya’ want, lass.”
He turned back to an older man perched on a stool and finished pouring a pint. Kára ducked behind the bar and grabbed his arm just as he set the beer down. “Ewan? What is wrong?”
“Hands off, lass. I don’t know what yer playin’ at, but I don’t know ya’, and no one’s allowed behind the bar.” He jerked back, breaking her hold as shock had her stammering.
“B-but, Ewan, you know me. You are m-my…mate.”
Staring at her, he shook his head. “Only been here a week, and I dinnae think I could forget a tall, bonny lass like yerself.” Kára swayed on her feet, and Ewan reached out to steady her. “Tied a few on, have ya’? Maybe it’s time for ya’ to go. We canna’ over serve here.”
With his arm around her waist, Ewan steered her towards the door. Kára inhaled deeply, memorizing his scent, even as her eyes started to burn, yet again, and her voice failed her.
“Ya’ best head home, luv,” Ewan said quietly as he guided her outside onto the sidewalk. “I dinnae want to see ya’ in here again.”
The door shut with a finality she couldn’t abide, but with her last, desperate breath as he’d leaned close to her ear, she’d figured out why he no longer had any idea who she was. And why he was no longer wearing the silver chain.
Magic. She’d smelled it all over him. Infusing his skin, clinging to his hair.
Vesper had lied to her. To hell with the fragile peace between her and the coven. If that bitch didn’t reverse her spell, Kára was going to bleed her dry.
