Page 11 of Bloodhunter

He nodded. “You need me, you call. I can be there in lessthan ten minutes. Girl like you shouldn’t live alone.”

I took a deep breath to tell him off, but inadvertentlypulled the scent of him deep into my lungs. He wore a subtle, spicy cologne,and the elusive hint of that cologne mixed with the exotic scent of shifter,man, and a special scent I could never quite catch, but I knew it was one he’dbeen born with. And I knew it wasthatscent that drifted around him andmade him nearly irresistible. Too bad he was such a “misogynistic Neanderthalof a horndog,” as Miriam had so aptly put it. “Goodnight, Angus.”

He slammed my door. “Go straight home.” His loud voice was onlya little muffled. He waited until I’d backed out of my parking space before hestrode back toward the building.

But I had no plans to start obeying Angus’s orders. I wasgoing to New Gravel. I patted the stakes in my belt, then reached for thesilver cross around my neck. I also had a Glock in the glovebox, though thatwas more for protection against human monsters. Guns wouldn’t do much to thesupernaturals.

At least not any I’d ever met.

Excitement uncurled inside my belly, climbed to caress myheart, then dove into my brain. I craved that feeling. It made me feel alive.Even better, it made me forget the ever-present heaviness of the past thatcovered me like slick, putrid scum.

Going to the scene of the crime in the dead of night mightnot seem like a smart thing to do, but I was fully aware of the risks. I wasalso fully aware of the high it gave me. Just thinking about it unleashedsomething inside me, something closer to happiness than anything I’d ever felt.Especially in the last six years.

I needed to find those killers, and I needed to kill them. Ineededto.

So I sped eagerly toward New Gravel and the scene of themurder, wide awake despite the hour. I didn’t sleep much anyway. Picking upclues at a crime scene was preferable to tossing and turning in a lonely bed inmy unadorned bedroom—or in my closet, which I ended up crawling into more oftenthan not.

When I arrived in the tiny New Gravel, I parked along thestreet across from Fred’s Bar and climbed out with no hesitation.

I should have been terrified. I knew I should have been.

But I wasn’t.

The street was well lit and completely silent. Not even adog barked. I stood in the cold, listening, watching for movement, and after afew minutes of nothing, I walked to the back of my car.

The rusty trunk lid groaned when I opened it, reluctantlyexposing the contents within. I cringed at the noise and darted a look around,but the village remained silent. Unaware. Very possibly afraid.

That could work for me, but then again, cops were bound tobe keeping an eye on the place. Not only that, but terrified, angry humanswould be sleeping with guns.

I dragged a dusty Kevlar vest from underneath a box oftools, shrugged off my coat and fastened on the vest, then put my coat back on.

I grabbed a couple of stakes and shoved them into my belt tojoin the other two. Two small vials of holy water followed, then a knife, whichI stuck into a coat pocket. I always wore a silver cross around my neck, but I donnedan extra just in case. I also wore a silver ring on the middle finger of myright hand. A thin cross stood out in sharp relief on the silver. It would beimmensely satisfying to punch a vampire in the throat with that ring.

I left the gun in the car. Killing vampires would beapplauded. Killing a human—even accidentally, as I went on some sort of deathwish vendetta, would land me in jail.

I slipped across the street and around to the back of thedark building, my heart beating hard and fast. The air grew heavier the closerI got to the scene, and the fine hairs stiffened on the back of my neck. Icould feel him…nothim, exactly, but the lingering horror he’d leftbehind.

Amias.

It was a familiar feeling, and not one I would ever forget.

When I finally stood inside the yellow tape, my flashlightplaying over the broken, bloody ground, I calmed a little and my mind began toclear.

I wasn’t sure what I’d hope to find but all that remainedwere footprints from law enforcement and stains I didn’t care to look at tooclosely.

I flashed the light over the back of the building, into thedistant woods, and then back to the ground.

Amias had been there. He’d killed the woman. His scent hungheavy in the air, and his presence was strong.

Maybe he was still there.

Somewhere a couple of blocks over, a dog began to bark, andjust that quickly, terror shivered through my body. I clicked the light off andbacked toward the building. I was vulnerable. Exposed. If I wanted to take outvampires, I’d have to stay alive to do it.

As my mind filled with doubt—or common sense, rather—I slidthe flashlight into my pocket, then grabbed two of the stakes.

Amias’s wasn’t the only presence I felt.

Amias wasn’t the only vampire I would kill.