Blood Hunt

Hope shook her head. Moonlight slid over the silky strands. “You’re wasting your time. I don’t date. I’m too busy.”



“Finding lost friends?”



“Among other things.”



“I will help you.”



“I already told you I didn’t want your help. I’m not interested in partnering with any man who has to be paid off to do the right thing.”



“What if I told you that what I’m asking of you is the right thing? And that I seek only to further the greater good?”



Disbelief filled her tone. “By setting me up on a blind date?”



He was getting caught in the language, his meaning becoming diluted because of the words. It would be so much simpler if he could convey his wishes to her directly—send his thoughts into hers so she understood them without the barrier of communication.



Logan stepped forward, reaching toward her.



Hope stumbled back, raising the flashlight as a weapon. “Stay where you are. You’re not getting more of my blood.”



“You remember that?” Which meant her mind was powerful indeed. No wonder her mental barrier was so formidable. Chances were she’d erected it herself in an effort to forget some painful past best left uncovered.



If it hadn’t been for Logan’s need to know her origins, he would have decided then and there to let that barrier stand.



But he did need to know. She may have siblings. Children. If so, he needed to find them.



Her gloved hand strayed to her neck. Her voice became distant, vibrating with a subtle trace of fear. “I wasn’t sure until just now. I thought it might have been a dream.”



“I apologize if I hurt or frightened you.”



She took a long step back. Her face had gone ashen and he could hear her pulse speed.



His mouth began to water, but he ignored it. He’d fed well from her. He was still strong. Still full. He didn’t need any more of her blood. It was merely a want, and one he wouldn’t indulge. Not only was she likely to still be weak from what he’d taken; if he fed from her now, she’d never trust him.



“Are you a vampire?” she asked.



Logan detested the term, and he felt his mouth twist with a sneer. “No.”



“You killed that monster. You took my blood. If you’re not a vampire, then what are you?”



“Anxious to help you find your friend.”



“So you can drink her blood.”



He pinned her with a stare, gliding forward. “Would that bother you? To see my lips at another woman’s throat?”



Fear vanished from her features and was replaced with indignation. “Hardly. Get over yourself.”



“Would you like to stand out here in the cold and continue to talk, or would you rather find your friend?”



“Rory. Her name is Rory.”



He nodded his acknowledgment. “Tell me about her. Where did you last see her?”



“At the convenience store on the corner. I tried to get her to come sleep at the shelter where I work and she refused. As always. She said she’d rather sleep here, in this building, where there were no prying eyes.”



“Was she paranoid?”



“Maybe. Would it matter to you if she was crazy?”



“There’s a woman I know named Nika. Everyone thought she was crazy, too. As it turned out, she simply saw things the rest of us could not. Since then, I’ve become more conservative in making judgment calls about such things.”



Hope’s body went still. “What kinds of things did she see?”



“Why? Do you see things? Did your friend?”



“No,” she answered too quickly. “I just mean you hear stories about people seeing odd things. You know. Ghosts. Vampires.”



She was baiting him. Logan refused to take it. “As far as I know, such things do not exist. Though there are other things that do. Far worse things.”



“Like what?”



“I could spend a week of nights listing the nightmares that lurk in the dark. I fear, however, we do not have that kind of time. Rory is still lost.”



Hope nodded. “Right. You’re right. We need to focus. Ghost stories will wait.”



“What was your plan for locating her?”



“I was looking for a way inside. This is the only place where I know she stayed that I haven’t searched.”



“Have you notified the human police?”



She frowned. “Is there any other kind?”



He realized his mistake too late. “I only mean the ones who care. The good cops.”



“No. That’s not what you meant. I don’t want to slow us down, but I’ll have you know I’m making a list of questions.”



Good. That meant she was planning to be with him long enough to ask questions. “As you please.”



“The answer is yes, I did report her missing. The police did what they could, which wasn’t much. Which is why I’m out here, trying to break into private property.”



“Allow me,” he said, heading back to the boarded-up overhead door.



As strong as he was now, thanks to Hope’s blood, all he had to do was shove his foot against the wood. The force of his kick ripped the screws holding the wood loose, sending the board clattering onto the concrete floor inside.



“How did you . . . ?”



“I work out,” he lied.



While she was still staring in shock, Logan stepped through the opening. He channeled power to his senses, gathering information and seeking out threats. The poisonous Synestryn that had nearly killed him last night had chosen this place for a reason. For all he knew, there might be more demons lurking inside.



Chapter 7



The only reason Tori had not yet slit her own wrists was the promise of revenge. It burned inside her, churning and roiling in her belly until she couldn’t think of anything else.



The Synestryn lord Zillah was going to die. She wasn’t sure how yet, but every one of the hundreds of painful possibilities was appealing in its own way.



He’d stolen her when she was little. Caged her. Fed her his blood. Raped her. Forced her to bear his spawn—all dead. Like his soul.



It didn’t matter how many times she tortured him or killed him, it would never be enough. Her hunger for his agony would never be sated. Her thirst for his suffering never quenched.



She could feel his presence burning in her blood. His blood.



Beneath her pale skin, she could see the black of his essence pulsing inside her. The healers here had tried to get rid of it, but it had only made them sick.



She made them sick.



The door to her room opened and panic ripped through her. She held her breath, peering out from under the bed where she lay. Big, booted feet crossed the carpet.



“Tori?”



Andra’s voice. Her sister.



“What?”



“I brought you something. Can you come out?”



Andra wouldn’t go away until she’d given her whatever it was. It was faster to let her do what she wanted and get it over with.



Tori wriggled out from under the far side of the bed. She stood, pressing herself into the corner.



Light from the hall spilled inside, burning Tori’s eyes. After so many years of living in blackness, light burned. Especially sunlight.



For so many years, she’d dreamt of seeing the sun again, and now it brought only pain.



That was one more sin Zillah had to pay for.



“You don’t have to sleep under there, baby,” said Andra, her voice soft, like she was talking to a child.



She was shielding something on a tray with her hand. A searing glow poured over Andra’s face and body.



Tori closed her eyes. “This room is too big.” It loomed around her, like the open jaws of a giant monster. One wrong move and those jaws would clamp shut, trapping her inside.



“We’ll figure something out. So you’re more comfortable.”



“Why are you here?” asked Tori, hoping her sister would hurry up and leave.



“I brought you something.”



Andra moved her hand and the flare of fire stabbed Tori’s eyes. She hissed in pain, falling to a crouch to cover her head so she wouldn’t get burned.



There was a sound of heavy breathing, then the smell of smoke. Her sister’s voice was filled with guilt. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you.”



Tori didn’t answer. There was nothing she could say to make it better. For either of them.



“I knew you wouldn’t want a bunch of people around, but I wanted to do something.”



Now that the fire was gone, Tori looked up. Andra held something Tori recognized but could not name. It was sweet. She remembered that much. Mom used to make them in the dreams she had before the caves.



Andra offered it. The tiny, pink torch stuck out from the top, sending a tendril of smoke into the air between them. “It’s a cupcake.”



Cupcake. Yes. That was the word.



Tori took it. Her fingers sank into it until she lightened her grip. The sweet smell of it turned her stomach, but she hid that from her sister. She thought it might hurt Andra’s feelings.



“You don’t have to eat it now if you don’t want to. I just wanted to do something,” said Andra.



“Why?”



Her sister reached out to touch her, but Tori flinched away. She couldn’t stop herself.



Andra’s hand fell to her side and sadness covered her. Even her hair looked sad. “Today is your birthday, baby. Don’t you remember? You’re eighteen.”



Shock stilled Tori’s heart for a moment. That had to be wrong. She had been in those caves forever. Not just ten years.



Andra let out a sad sigh and rose to her feet. “Is there anything I can do? Anything I can get you?”



“No,” said Tori automatically. She didn’t like it when people were around. It was easier to think when she was alone under the bed. Safe.



Andra nodded. As she left the room, she said, “Happy birthday, Tori,” then shut the door.



Tori stared at the cupcake for a long time. She opened the bottom drawer of the little cabinet beside her bed and set the cupcake inside. She might need it later, if she got hungry, and she didn’t want anyone to see it and take it away.



It was her cupcake. She’d kill anyone who tried to take it.



Andra managed to shut the door before the tears started to fall. Her baby sister was home, but she wasn’t okay. Whatever the Synestryn had done to her had destroyed her. Their blood still flowed in her veins.



Tynan said she was dangerous. To others as well as herself. He wanted to put her in a magically prolonged sleep until they could figure out how to filter her blood.



If they could figure out how. So far, everyone had failed.



Maybe he was right. Andra had hoped that with time and love, Tori would heal, but that was looking less and less likely as each day passed.



Her husband Paul’s comforting presence slid through the luceria that linked them together. He was in a meeting with Joseph, but he was never far from her mind.



He was worried what Tori might do.



Andra wasn’t. If she had to, she’d restrain her sister. She refused to fear her. Tori needed help, not to be shunned.



The real fear wasn’t what Tori would do to others; it was what she’d do to herself.