Chapter Two
Her wrist was burning. The wound had healed—Isabella always healed incredibly fast—but she could still feel his mouth on her, like some sort of brand that had gone beneath her skin.
She’d run through the city, constantly looking over her shoulder. She’d been terrified she’d see the beast coming after her.
A werewolf. Oh, jeez. Isabella had never encountered a werewolf before. She’d actually hoped they were all long gone from this world. From the time she’d been a little girl, her family had always told her how dangerous—how uncontrollable—a werewolf could be.
Stay away from the beasts. They’ll gobble up girls like you.
And one had tried to gobble her up. He’d taken her blood. Taken and taken when she’d just been trying to help him. What an ungrateful beast.
She yanked open the door to her hotel room. A fancy place in one of the bustling casinos, the room had seemed like a haven to her when she’d first arrived in town. She’d come to Vegas because it was a tourist hotspot. What better place to disappear? Only…
No one told me there were werewolves in Sin City. That little detail had been missing from the travel guides.
She kicked the hotel room door shut behind her and ran for the closet. It was a swanky room. The best she’d been able to afford because she’d been treating herself. Now, though, it was time to ditch the swankiness and get as far from Vegas as possible. She started throwing her clothes into her bag. Shoving in her shoes and—
A knock sounded at her door.
Isabella froze. Whoever was knocking…Please, please, don’t be the big, bad wolf. She edged toward the door.
The knock came again.
Would a werewolf bother knocking? She didn’t think so. Wouldn’t he just kick in the door if he were there?
They’ll gobble up girls like—
A man’s voice called, “Ms. Abandonato? It’s the hotel manager. I want to make sure your room is to your liking.”
Her room? A bit dazed, she glanced around. Her wrist kept throbbing.
There was a pause from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay?” the manager asked.
No, the world was absolutely not okay.
Isabella put her eye to the peephole and glanced into the hallway. A tall, thin male stood on the other side of her door. His hair was combed back from his high forehead, and the light gleamed off his round glasses.
Not my werewolf.
Fumbling, Isabella yanked open the door.
He smiled at her. “I saw you go into your room, so I thought this would be a perfect time to check on you.”
“It’s not perfect. I can’t talk now.” Not when there was so much running to do.
“I only need a moment.” His bright blue gaze swept over her, and his stare stilled on her shirt front. “I think you’ve hurt yourself,” he murmured. “There’s blood on your clothes.”
Her gaze fell to her shirt. “N-not my blood—”
He hit her—shoved both of his hands against her shoulders and pushed her back into the room. “No,” his voice had gone hard and cold. “I suspected it wasn’t.” Then he pulled a gun from his pocket.
Isabella stared at him with wide eyes. “Who are you?”
Definitely not the hotel manager. But then, she should have noticed sooner that the guy wasn’t wearing the standard uniform that she’d seen on the other staff members.
“I’m Felix Flemming, and I’ve been waiting a long time for you.”
Her gaze darted from the gun to his face. “Buddy, I don’t know you, and I’m having a really bad night so—”
“Blood loss will make your kind weak. I can fill your body full of bullets and let you bleed out on the floor. Then, when you’re helpless, I can have my team come up and carry you out of here. That’s one option.”
Your kind. Her shoulders tensed.
“The first couple of experiments were failures for me. But I have high hopes about tonight.” The guy who’d identified himself as Felix smiled at her. “My bait contacted me and told me about the developments in the alley. I’m very, very pleased. And because of that fact, we can try to do things the easy way. You can come with me willingly…”
Go with him? Um, the hell, no.
“Or I can fill your body with bullets.” His smile was evil. “Because there is no escape for you. I’ve got a team of five men waiting in the hallway. Even if you were to magically get past me, you’d still have to deal with them.”
Not true, jerk. I’d only have to face them if I tried to escape through the hallway. Luckily, she had another plan stirring in her head.
Isabella drew in a slow, deep breath. She let her face soften even as she hunched her shoulders and tried to appear weak. “I’ll come willingly.” She pulled up her power, knowing she’d only have one good shot at attacking him. She crept toward Felix. “There’s just one thing I need first…” Her stare held his.
“What’s that?” His eyes were locked with hers.
“For you to drop the fucking gun.” Power burned from her. “Drop it, now.”
Instead of dropping it, he pressed the weapon right to her chest. “You think I don’t know about a vamp’s compulsion? Why the hell do you think I’m wearing these glasses? Special lenses, my dear. They distort my environment just enough that your magic doesn’t work on me.”
Oh, shit. “In that case…” Isabella rasped—and then she yanked the weapon from him in a lightning fast move. His fingers squeezed the trigger when she grabbed the gun’s barrel, and the bullet blasted, but it missed her. Mostly. She felt the bullet graze her side even as Felix shouted for his men.
Not hesitating, Isabella whirled away from him. She sprinted for the window on the right. She was high up, on the seventh floor, so this wasn’t going to be the most pleasant experience of her life.
“Shoot her!” Felix yelled. “Stop her!”
Gunfire erupted.
She flew into the window. It was probably supposed to be reinforced glass or something but…not paranormal proof. She took that whole pane of glass out with her hit, and then she was plummeting down, down, falling straight to the earth below. The sidewalk came up to meet her in a blinding, sickening swirl, and then she hit it. The impact knocked the breath from her, and Isabella was pretty sure it shattered her bones, too.
For a time, the entire world went dark. Everything was covered in a blanket of black.
Isabella had a little secret. She might be a vampire, but she was still afraid of the dark. She was afraid of a whole lot of things.
“I think she’s dead!” A woman’s high-pitched, horrified voice penetrated the darkness.
Isabella sucked in a breath—vampires actually did need to breathe. Their hearts beat, blood flowed in their bodies—they were undead, not dead, after all—and she pushed herself up. Her arm felt funny. So did her leg. A quick glance showed they were both broken.
I’ll heal. I always do.
Someone screamed, “Oh, my God!” Then a woman with almost white-blonde hair fainted, hitting the ground right next to Isabella.
“Stop her!”
Isabella’s head jerked at that blasted order. Gawking humans were staring at her, but over their shoulders, she caught sight of Felix and his goons. They were rushing toward her. So, broken limbs or not, she had to get out of there.
Isabella shoved her broken bones into a semi-correct position and she fled. Every staggering step was absolute torture, but she didn’t slow down. She couldn’t. Eventually, her body would heal itself. For the moment, though, she had to take the pain—and run.
This night cannot get any worse. And to think, she’d thought Sin City would be fun. How could a woman be more wrong?
***
Griffin followed Isabella’s scent to a high-end casino/hotel combo in the heart of Vegas. One filled with about a million glittering lights. It had taken him a bit of time to pursue his prey. He’d needed to get back-up clothes out of his car. Needed to get his beast in serious check.
And I needed to figure out what in the hell I am going to do with her. Because there was one law in the werewolf world. The vampire is the enemy. If a wolf encountered a vamp, then the vamp died. No debate. Evil was eradicated.
A crowd had gathered near the front of the glittering building.
“I thought she was dead!” A woman’s voice rose to reach his ears. An ambulance had pulled up near the casino/hotel’s entrance, and an EMT was treating a blonde woman. “She jumped out of that window—had to be seven floors up! When she hit the ground, I heard her bones snap.” Dark lines of mascara ran down the blonde’s face. “It was horrible!”
Griffin stiffened. His gaze lifted, and he saw the gaping hole seven floors up. Not Isabella, not…
But his nostrils flared, and he caught the scent of Isabella’s blood. It was a scent he now knew all too well. He shoved through the crowd, and sure enough, next to the broken glass on the ground, he saw drops of her blood. And he knew it was Isabella’s blood. The scent was instantly recognizable. Imprinted on his very soul.
Isabella had jumped from the window. Isabella’s bones had snapped. Isabella had—
“She got up!” the woman cried. “And she ran away. How did she do that? How is that even possible? How—”
Griffin’s head turned toward the ambulance.
“Probably just a publicity stunt, ma’am,” the EMT assured her. “You know the magicians around here are always pulling shit like this. Now, you just take it easy…”
Isabella’s fall had been no publicity stunt. Why had she leapt from seven stories?
Fear grew within him. It took a moment for Griffin to recognize the emotion because it had been far too long since he’d feared anyone or anything.
Find her. Protect her.
He backed away from the crowd. Isabella’s scent was faint on the breeze, so he knew she’d raced from the scene. She’d run while she’d been hurt. His steps picked up speed. He would find her. He had to find her.
If another werewolf in the city got to Isabella before he did…
The vampire is the enemy.
No, he would get to Isabella first.