Blood Hunt

“I’ll manage.”



Hope took another step forward, jabbing the fire near the demon. It inched back, hissing in frustration and rage.



“Can you hold the torch?” she asked.



“Yes.”



She handed it to him. The wood was rough in his palm. He kept his grip tight, not wanting to lose their only real weapon.



“Keep it back. I’m dragging you out of here.”



Before he could argue, she grabbed the collar of his coat and began pulling him back faster than he would have thought possible for a woman her size.



She was strong. Inhumanly so.



The importance of that would have to be examined later. For now, he had to pour all his concentration into holding the demon back with nothing more than a chunk of burning wood and steadily weakening arms.



As they moved down the hall, the Synestryn followed them, keeping out of reach of the firelight. Occasionally, it would bend its head and lap up a spot of blood on the floor left behind from Logan’s wounds.



Its eyes burned a bright, eerie green, telling Logan that it hadn’t given up on a meal yet.



They hit the first step. Hope grunted with effort. Through the leather, he felt her arm quivering with the strain of dragging his weight. Logan lifted himself, helping her as much as he could with one arm.



The demon kept up its pace, searching for an opening. Fire had eaten its way down the wood and was now only a few inches from his hand. Once he had to drop it, the demon would pounce.



They had to be out of here before that eventuality.



“You need to go faster,” he told her.



Her voice was breathless. “I’ll try.”



Even without looking at her, he could almost feel her gather her will, as if the air around her had shifted at her command. The torchlight wavered, the flame eating its way toward Logan’s hand.



The demon made a grab for Logan’s leg. Its claws raked across his skin, but sliced cleanly through his flesh, leaving nothing for them to catch on.



Pain burned his limb and he felt more poison enter his bloodstream.



The torch became heavier. So did his eyelids. His arm drooped and the demon lurched forward.



Logan raised it up at the last second, singeing away a spot of fur on its paw. It howled in pain and its eyes glowed brighter.



The last few steps bumped beneath him, rattling his spine. He heard the squeak of door hinges and felt a cool rush of air pass his cheek.



The demon flinched away from the relatively bright light of the first floor. Crackling power gathered around them, like static electricity. A moment later, Logan’s body nearly flew across the concrete, landing a few feet away. Hope slammed the door shut, picked up a discarded length of pipe, and slammed it down on the handle.



The metal doorknob bent slightly, jamming it shut.



The demon pounded against the door, rattling it on its hinges. That bent knob wasn’t going to hold it off for long.



Hope came over, grabbed the torch from his hands, and shoved it in the crack under the door, swinging it from side to side.



The demon screamed, but the pounding stopped. For now.



She came over and crumpled beside Logan, panting. “Please tell me you have a cell phone on you. Mine’s gone and we need to call for help.”



“We need to get out of here. That demon will be back.”



She let out a heavy sigh and her head hung limp from her neck in exhaustion. “I don’t know if I can drag you both out of here. I barely made it up those last few steps.”



Not to mention the fact that he was bleeding and the scent would eventually draw other Synestryn to him to feed.



He was too weak to heal himself. Too weak to even stand. He needed blood. If she wasn’t going to leave his side, he had to be strong enough to defend her.



“Feed me,” he whispered, feeling ashamed that he had to ask. “Give me some of your blood and I’ll get us all out of this mess.”



Hope’s hand covered the spot where he’d fed from her last night. Uncertainty drew her pale brows together before she gave him a resigned nod. “No more hospitals,” she warned him. “Deal?”



Logan couldn’t speak. His mouth had already begun to water in anticipation. His body clenched at the thought of holding her close again, of feeling her power sliding into him to become a part of him.



He returned her nod, sealing the deal. Even unspoken, the promise he’d given her had power. It fell across him, warm and sweet like a lover’s kiss.



Hope brushed her hair away from her neck and bent down. “Don’t you dare make a habit of this,” she said.



Logan feared he already had.



Krag stilled as that flash of power slammed into him again, coming out of nowhere. This time he was ready for it.



He closed his eyes and concentrated on the path, letting his mind slide out and through the ribbon that led to the source of that power.



The frozen landscape flew past him, giving way to homes and then to the run-down buildings at the edge of the city. The speed at which they passed was dizzying, but he held tight, needing to know who the source of such a vast amount of power was.



Krag caught only a glimpse of honey blond hair and a slender neck for an instant. A Sanguinar was feeding from the source. A woman.



How dare that leech touch what belonged to Krag? All blooded humans in this region belonged to him. Their blood was his.



Rage broke Krag’s concentration and he was flung away from the scene, dragged back into his body against his will. He fought it, struggling to go back to the woman and see her face, but it was useless. The connection was already gone.



At least he’d seen her location. It was an old, run-down building some of his minions used for shelter. The Tyler building.



Krag sent his mind back out, racing across space until he touched the thoughts of the demon lurking in the basement of the Tyler building. He shoved his orders into the demon’s mind, forcing it to obey. It shuddered in defiance, but in the end, Krag’s will won out.



Now all he had to do was send one of his Dorjan—his human servants—to fetch her and bring her back here. With any luck at all, he’d have her at his feet before sunrise.



Chapter 12



The flash of pain was gone, leaving Hope floating in blissful warmth. It was better than she remembered. Pleasure became a palpable thing, winding around her cells and soaking into them. The gentle tugging at her throat, the feel of Logan’s lips moving against her skin, made her head spin, and not with loss of blood, either. As the seconds passed, he became stronger, gathering her up in his arms and holding her tight.



He sat up and swung her around until she was cradled in his lap. She felt his muscles swell and harden against her body. His erection throbbed against her hip, sending zingers of need arcing through her.



She heard a strangled sound of shock coming from somewhere nearby, but it didn’t matter to her. Nothing mattered but the scent of Logan in her lungs and his strength surrounding her, keeping her safe. Here, there were no worries. No fears. No monsters could touch her here, in this place of blissful peace.



Weakness slid into her, but even that was welcome. Her eyes drifted shut and sleep beckoned.



Hope fought it off only because she didn’t want to miss even a moment of what Logan was doing to her. It was too good to miss.



His tongue slid across her skin, sending a parade of shivers marching down her spine. A moment later, his mouth pulled away and she lay in his arms, looking up at him.



He was so beautiful. His jaw was tight and that lovely silvery light in his eyes was back, glowing with need—a kind of need she’d never seen on a man’s face before. It made her feel special. Cherished.



“If there were more time . . .” he whispered, his voice stroking over her like a caress. He didn’t finish what he was saying, but she enjoyed filling in the blanks for herself.



If there were more time, he’d kiss her. Touch her.



And then he laid her down on the cold floor, leaving her feeling weak and alone.



Hope struggled to sit up.



“Not yet,” he said from somewhere behind her. “Give yourself a moment.”



She didn’t want to, but her body had other ideas. That unexplained strength she’d experienced before was gone now, leaving the opposite in its wake. She could barely hold up her own head. She had to settle for rolling onto her side to see what he was doing.



He was at the stranger’s side, bent over his neck. Feeding from him.



Feral jealousy rose up inside Hope. She didn’t want Logan doing that to anyone else. Ever. Only her.



The reaction was so strange and unwanted, it shocked her. Of course she didn’t want Logan to drink her blood all the time. What kind of an idiot wished for a thing like that?



Logan leaned back and pressed an elegant hand to the man’s head. The stranger closed his eyes as if falling asleep.



“What did you do to him?”



“He was poisoned. I had to administer an antidote.”



“How did you get it?”



He ignored her question. “I’ll take him to a human hospital.”



“But not me. You said so.”



“No, not you. You I get to keep an eye on myself.” He said it in a way that made her wonder if he saw the task as a chore or a pleasure. “Can you walk?”



Hope was wobbly, but she could walk as long as it was out of here. “Yeah.”



“I’ll carry him. Follow me.”



They hurried outside to Logan’s van. He loaded the unconscious man in the back and drove to the hospital. He parked at the emergency entrance and got out. “I’ll just be a few minutes,” he told her. “Will you please await me here?”



Hope nodded and leaned her head back against the seat to rest. She was still feeling woozy, but she’d take that over dead any day of the week.



Logan came back out wearing scrubs. He had a trash sack full of something clenched in his fist.



“Where are your clothes?” she asked as he got back in the van.



“Bloodied. I have to dispose of them properly.”



“You make it sound like you have some kind of disease. I really hope that’s not the case with all the necksucking you’ve done.”



A faint smile lifted one side of his mouth. “I can assure you there’s nothing for you to worry about. You’re perfectly healthy.”



Except for a slight case of brain damage that made me enjoy getting fed on by a vampire. Not that she was going to bring that up.



He drove onto the highway and headed east. “Where are we going?”



“There are too many people here for me to simply toss my clothing out the window. I have to go to a safe place where I can burn them. You’re coming with me until I’m certain there will be no lasting damage.”



Worry crept into her. “Damage?”



“I tried not to take too much from you—just enough for us to escape—but after what I took from you last night . . . I just want to be careful.”



“So you’re not trying to scare me?”



“No, Hope. That’s the last thing I want to do.”



He opened a compartment between them and pulled out a bottle of water. “Here. You need the fluids.”



Hope popped it open and drank, struggling to make sense of everything. She’d let a vampire suck her blood. Twice. Sure, he didn’t call himself that, but that’s what he was.