Blood Hunt

And he liked it.



That alone was warning enough for Logan to back away. He couldn’t become personally entangled in the life of a human woman. Their roles were set. Immovable.



She would be paired with a human male who would make her happy—one who would complement the power flowing in her veins, rather than dilute it. They’d bring children into the world who could save Logan’s race from starvation. She was a source of power. Food. It was as simple as that.



It wasn’t nearly enough.



Logan fought the urge to slip back into the emergency room to check on her. The less time he spent with her, the better. He couldn’t grow any more attached than he already was. It was time to hand her off to Tynan and get back to the mystery that had brought him here.



He still had yet to find the address that had been written in blood on his bathroom mirror a few days ago, along with the message You have not been forgotten. You are not alone.



Between the women and children who’d been rescued from the Synestryn, and the deaths of Angus and Gilda, Dabyr had been in an uproar. His presence there had been necessary to help people stay calm and positive. Grief and fear were enemies Project Lullaby could scarcely afford.



Tonight had been his first chance to seek out the address. He’d gotten close, but the frantic call for help from Steve had distracted him. And then the woman had distracted him even more.



It was time for Logan to get back to the job at hand. He needed to find the reason for the mysterious message on his mirror and make sure it posed no threat to his race.



With any luck at all, he’d find a man with the same vibrant power in his blood that Logan’s lovely rescuer possessed. Tynan would pair her up and in a few years, her children would help save his people.



A pang of longing stabbed at him as he left the hospital and went back out into the cold. There were so many things he wanted that could never be. The woman who’d saved him tonight had served only to remind him of the things he could never have.



As he dialed Tynan’s cell phone, he realized that he didn’t even know her name.



And it was best that way.



Chapter 3



The flare of power that Krag had felt for a brief instant was gone now. All that was left was a faint ghost of energy fading as the seconds passed. Usually when he felt the presence of a blooded human, it was a gradual thing that grew as they came closer to him.



But not tonight. That flash of power had roared into his senses as if it had been plunked down out of nowhere. And it had vanished just as quickly.



The flash had come from downtown, several miles away. Perhaps a plane had landed and taken off with a blooded passenger aboard. If so, the human was already gone and out of his reach. Time to move on. Unless it happened again.



Krag settled back in his throne, surveying his worshippers. Both human and Synestryn alike, they gathered around him, eager to do his bidding.



Except for one.



“Bring her out,” he ordered, his voice booming off the cement walls of his home.



This defunct manufacturing facility had been easy to convert into a fortress. What few windows there were high in the walls had been blacked out with paint, keeping out the deadly light of the sun. The main space was large, with several smaller rooms that had once been offices. Krag had those converted into his sleeping quarters, leaving room for his women on the floor surrounding his bed.



It was truly too bad that one of those women had defied him so openly. She was pretty. Young. Full of life, her blood more powerful than most.



But like a cancer, she had to be cut out before she could spread her rebellion to the others.



Two burly human men dragged her before him. Her clothing was torn and dirty. Her dyed hair hung in wild tangles around her face. The glaring pink of her shoes seemed to mock him, declaring to all that she held no respect for his position.



Her hands were bound in front of her. No doubt a consequence of the angry red claw marks she’d left on one of the men’s cheeks. She was gagged, but there were no tears in her eyes as he would have hoped. No remorse. Only the glowing anger of her rebellious nature and promised retribution.



He was going to enjoy breaking her.



“Remove the gag,” he ordered.



The men hastened to obey. As soon as the dirty fabric cleared her mouth, she spat on the ground at Krag’s feet.



“Kneel.”



Her guards shoved her down so hard he could hear her bones hit the concrete.



Krag smiled. “Have you considered my offer?”



“I’d rather fuck a rotting pig corpse than let you touch me.”



Anger flared for an instant before he controlled it. He smoothed his features to regal stillness. “Throw her down below. I’m certain there is at least one rotting pig down there for her amusement.”



She screamed, but it wasn’t a cry of fear. Not this woman. Her scream was of feral outrage. Of angry defiance.



The men picked her up by her arms and hauled her out of his sight. The flooded section below housed some of the less advanced members of his race. They would make quick work of her. And when they were done, he’d mount her skull on the wall as a reminder to the others not to question his authority.



Before her screams faded, Krag beckoned one of the obedient women forward. She shivered in ecstasy at being chosen, as was proper, before crawling to his feet.



He patted his lap, inviting her to jump up like a pampered pet. As soon as he had her settled there, her naked body trembling, he jerked her head to the side and bit deep.



Her blood was weak, but once he’d taken it all, he felt better. Stronger.



Krag shoved her corpse to the floor, then motioned for her to be taken away. Let the lesser Synestryn feast on her flesh and bones. He had no more use for her.



Hope opened her eyes, already knowing that Logan was gone. She couldn’t feel his presence or that consuming pleasure he’d given her.



Fear wove through her for a moment, but she wasn’t sure if it was fear of the man, or fear caused by the fact she knew he was gone.



A plump, dark-haired nurse hovered over Hope. She couldn’t remember the woman, but the way she was looking at Hope with tears in her eyes made her wonder if she shouldn’t.



“You’re awake. How are you feeling?”



Hope blinked a few times to make sure that blurry vision wasn’t making her see concern that wasn’t real. “Do I know you?”



“I’m Barb,” she said, her tone of expectation telling Hope she should know the woman.



Was her memory getting worse? Was she losing more chunks of time? Hope pushed herself up in a panic and looked around, hoping it would clear her head.



She was surrounded by a striped curtain. Beyond that curtain, she could hear voices and the low moans of a man in pain. Disinfectant laced the stale air. A machine beeped insistently in the background. An IV bag hung above her, feeding fluids into the back of her hand.



A hospital. That’s where she was.



Hope didn’t know how she got here. The last thing she remembered was Logan. He’d grabbed her and . . . bitten her neck.



Her hand flew to the spot, feeling only smooth, whole skin.



“What is it, honey?” asked Barb.



“Do you see anything? Any marks on my neck?”



Barb leaned forward and brushed Hope’s hair away. “It’s a little red. Does it hurt?”



“No.” Her skin tingled, and there was a throbbing warmth, but that was all. “Who brought me in?”



Barb frowned as if trying to remember. “A man. Tall. Dark hair. Do you know him?”



That description could be almost anyone. Or it could have been Logan. Either way the answer was the same. “No.”



“The doctor will be in to see you soon. We couldn’t find any injuries. Do you know what happened?”



Hope shook her head. What she thought had happened couldn’t have. It wasn’t possible. Either the stranger had bitten her and left marks, or he hadn’t bitten her at all. Those were the only options.



Weren’t they?



A wave of dizziness slid over her, and she shut her eyes to let it pass.



The smells of the hospital assaulted her nose, dragging from her memories of the last time she’d been here—the night Sister Olive had found her in the empty Tyler building and brought her here, insisting she get checked out. Hope had no injuries then, either. Nothing that explained her amnesia. She hadn’t known her name or how old she was. Hope still didn’t know. No one had claimed her. The only thing that had been in her possession was a wooden amulet clutched in her fist. The name Hope Serrien was burned into it.



She didn’t even know if that was her real name.



That had been a decade ago and Hope still had no answers. All she had was a nagging sense of duty—that there was some vital task only she could complete. Every day that went by that didn’t reveal her task left her feeling more restless and defeated.



There was something inside her—some forgotten knowledge she could almost put her finger on. It was there, evading her grasp, but she knew it was there. When Logan had been holding her, she’d almost been able to remember why she was here.



“I need to go,” said Hope.



Barb shook her head. “Not until we know what happened. It’s not safe.”



Hope had to find him. She had to find Logan and figure out what he knew. Maybe he knew who she was. What she was.



“I’m leaving. Bring me whatever paperwork you need me to sign, but do it fast. I won’t wait.”



Whoever Logan was, Hope didn’t want him to get far. She was going to find him. And then she was going to force him to give her the answers she needed. One way or another.



Logan met Steve and Pam in their apartment. They were fine. All three of them. Logan called Joseph—the leader of the Theronai—and asked him to send someone to guard them so they could rest. He then did what he could to remove the memory of tonight from their minds. He didn’t want them to worry—didn’t want the memory to draw more demons to them.



Tomorrow the couple would go to Dabyr, where they’d be safe. After tonight’s attack, living in the city was no longer an option for them. If Logan hadn’t been so close, if the GPS gadget on his cell phone hadn’t made it possible for Steve’s call to go to the closest Sentinel—namely Logan—things would have turned out very different tonight. It served only to display just how fragile their progress truly was.



As Logan got back in his van, the blond woman’s face danced in his head. It was strange to no longer feel weak and hungry. Even walking inside Steve’s formidable mind had been easy. There was no effort. No strain.



The power in that woman’s blood was amazing. Too bad Logan knew he had to share.



Out of habit, he turned on the engine to get some heat before he realized he wasn’t cold. Still.



Normally, the flush of feeding would have faded by now, leaving him chilled to the bone. For some reason, this time was different.



Logan dialed Tynan’s cell phone. “We need to meet.”



“Why?”



“I have blood to share.”



“A new source?” The weariness in Tynan’s voice worried Logan.



“Yes. A young woman. Her blood is strong. It’s possible she may even be a Theronai.”