Page 42 of Hunted

The next, the world disappears.

No warning or shift of muscle.

Just motion. Violent, impossible motion.

Air tears past my ears as my stomach drops through my spine. The wine glass leaves my nerveless fingers and shatters somewhere below as the club vanishes in a rush of lights, black marble and stunned faces.

He’s carrying me.

No.

He’s flying with me.

Valentin Moretti launches from the rooftop with a force that splits the night open.

My hands slam into his chest, fingers digging into his shirt as the city drops away beneath us. Buildings blur. Wind claws at my hair. My boots leave solid ground, and my body does not understand what’s happening.

Every instinct screams one thing.

You’re going to die.

I grit my teeth hard enough to make my jaw ache.

I will not scream. I will not give him that.

He lands on the next rooftop with impossible grace, barely a jolt through his body, and before I can process it, we’re airborne again.

The city stretches below in glittering grids and endless black streets. Cars look like insects. People look like nothing.

A jagged, wheezing sound tears from me.

Because he isn’t breathing hard.

I am.

Every nerve in my body wants space. Every instinct screams he’s waiting for me to shove him away. My mouth is drier than a desert but in contrast my eyes are readying to water like jet streams. Not with tears though… because… fuck that. No.

So I stay still, my collared throat still in his hand, ignoring the flex of his fingers as the most powerful vampire in the world dares me into a silent game of chicken.

He soars again.

Lands again.

And again.

On the next leap, he glances down at me, silver eyes glinting in the dark. ‘You’re very quiet all of a sudden,’ he says mildly. ‘Nothing to say now?’

‘I’m conserving oxygen,’ I say through clenched teeth.

His mouth curves. ‘Admirable.’

We land on another building, higher this time. Still gripping my throat, he walks towards the edge, my boots scraping concrete.

Then he holds me out over open air, one hand resting nonchalantly in his pocket.

The drop is obscene. Definitely enough time for a long think before splat.

Wind howls between buildings. My coat snaps around my legs, and the city yawns beneath me, uncaring and endless.