Page 90 of Bloodhunter

Amias was trying to wear me out. He made sure I never lostsight of him, but he stayed just out of reach. He began to help me defeat theincubus, and he hadn’t even had to touch me to do it.

Yet.

I kept the thought of him touching me in the forefront of mymind. If I concentrated on the horror of the master’s touch, I could almostforget the darkness of the demon’s kiss.

When three vampires rushed out to attack me, Amias stood backand laughed as I killed them. They weren’t infecteds, but neither of us cared.

Blood exploded from the vampires and showered me in scarlet rain,and I cried because I felt something other than desolation.

The moonlit ground swirled with colors so thick it was aneffort to slog through them, but that was only in my mind. I chased Amiasdeeper and deeper into the woods, until those colors painted the night air andshone like delicate beams all around me.

I was in the midst of a terrible, savage beauty. I was inthe midst of the vampires.

Amias led me, and I followed with the knowledge that when Icaught him, I would not be the one in control. It should have made me runscreaming into the night.

It didn’t.

There were worse things than facing the master. There wereworse things than fear.

Worse things, even, than allowing the one who’d killed myfamily to save me now.

He stepped suddenly out in front of me, and unable to stopmy wild rush, I careened into him. He wrapped me in his arms.

“Fight if you will,” he whispered, “but this is where youbelong.”

Oh, did I fight.

I fought him. I fought the darkness the demon had leftinside me. I fought the memories of dead people, people I’d loved, strewn brokenand bleeding around me.

Silverlight brightened so fiercely we were cocooned in asilver spotlight, but I didn’t care about the dangers of being so visible anddistracted. The influence of the incubus left no room for fear of death, and Icared about only one thing at that moment—defeating the horrific despair. Amiasreached down inside me and ripped emotions up through the blackness. He freedthe rage.

So I fought, because Amias made sure I could.

He didn’t simply stand there and take my assault—Silverlightwould have slashed him to ribbons. He was strong, and he was fast, and he wasvicious.

And not even Silverlight could kill the master. She couldn’tkill him becauseIheld her. If she could have killed him, he’d havedied a thousand deaths that night.

That didn’t stop me from trying, though.

AndGod, it hurt.

I fought through the pain because the incubus lingered, butwith each slash of Silverlight, each kick or punch or bite, the pain increased.The darkness of the incubus didn’t stand a chance. The weight of the pain andrage and grief and resolve was just too heavy.

In the end, after I’d been savaged and broken and beaten andhad nothing left but agony, I released the past.

I was free.

I opened my numb fingers and let Silverlight fall theground, where she darkened regretfully without my touch. My legs gave out and Iwould have joined her, but Amias caught me, gathered me to his chest, andwaited quietly for my surrender.

Abruptly, we were no longer encircled by light or caught ina ring of viciousness, but surrounded by a heavy, silent darkness.

Both of us were bloodied and battered and wounded, but hewas the immortal undead.

I was not.

And I did not want to die.

So I turned my head and bared my neck. He would give me backwhat I’d lost, and I would let him.