I’ll Be Slaying You

Chapter 12

“Zane, no!” Dee’s cry echoed in Simon’s ears. Fear. Fury. So the demon had tracked them? Big damn deal. He’d never been afraid of a demon, and he sure wasn’t about to start fearing one now.

Zane’s gaze scanned over them. Froze on the stake that Simon still gripped in his hands. “Were you planning to take her out, too?”

What? His brow furrowed and then the words registered. No, one word. Too. “The fuck you say.” He shoved Dee fully behind him. No way was a demon coming after his woman with death in his eyes.

“It’s what she wants.” The demon crossed the threshold. Strolled in and swung a blue bag from his shoulders. He shoved his hand inside the unzipped top and drew out a stake of his own. “What she’s always wanted.”

“You’re not touching her.” Killing the demon would be easy.

The only problem? He didn’t want to rip the man’s heart out, not in front of Dee. This demon had been her friend once.

A friend who was about to kill her.

“I won’t hide from him,” Dee said and her voice was clear. Strong. She stepped to Simon’s side, her chin up, her head back. The charred ends of her hair had vanished while she slept. Her blond mane was tousled around her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips bright red.

Sexy. The woman always looked so sexy to him.

“Dee.” The demon’s eyes swept her body once more. “You’re looking good for a dead woman.”

She shrugged.

“I take it that this asshole is the one who changed you?” Rage slipped past the ice in Zane’s voice. Cracked through.

“No.” Her hand brushed over Simon’s arm. “He’s the one who saved my life. More than once.”

A sad shake of Zane’s head. “So you’ve already gone to his side, huh, Dee? Already forsaken—”

“I’m Born.”

The guy’s eyes bulged. “Bullshit.”

“It’s the reason my parents were killed. The reason the vamps came after me again and again. I’m Born and I’m going to take out the bastard—Grim—who is on my tail.”

Damn. The woman sure had one hell of a bite.

Sexy. If there wasn’t a demon standing there, glaring and threatening death, he’d lick that long column of her throat once more.

If.

“Sorry, Dee, that’s not gonna happen.” Zane glanced down at the floor, then back at her. “I got a promise to keep.”

Then he lunged forward, the stake up, ready, moving faster than a human ever could and flying straight at Dee.

Simon tried to jump in front of her, but Dee shoved him to the side. Then her left hand shot out and she snatched the stake, ripped it right out of the demon’s hand and snapped the wood in two.

The broken stake thudded onto the carpet.

She grabbed Zane, bunched his shirt in her fist, and jerked him close to her face.

He smiled at her. “I tried.”

What?

“You gonna bite me now? Gonna sink those, um, really long and what looks like freakishly sharp teeth in my neck? Gonna drain me dry?”

The demon didn’t seem particularly worried.

Dee rolled her eyes. “Don’t tempt me, asshole. Don’t tempt me.”

The smile that had curled his lips faded. “You’re still in there, aren’t you, Dee? All this…” His hand lifted, traced her lips, and Simon had to bite back a growl. “It’s just surface.”

She blinked and her head cocked.

Surface.

Being a vampire was a hell of a lot more than that.

“Not a cold-blooded killer, are you?”

Dee freed him.

“If you were, you would have drained me by now.” He straightened his shirt, then raised a brow. “Born, huh? Never saw that one coming.”

She shoved a hand through her hair. “Me either.”

Zane grunted and looked his way. “So what’s your story?”

Simon just stared back at him.

“Man, you need to bring that down a notch. Dee and I weren’t lovers. You want to get all territorial and kick-ass, save that crap for Tony.”

Simon locked his jaw and gritted, “Why are you here?”

Another fleeting smile. “I’m here because if Dee really had become some soul-less bloodsucker, I would have kept my promise.” His stare slanted to a watchful Dee. “Don’t worry, sweet, I would have made it fast and as painless as possible.” A shrug. “But the minute I saw you, I knew you were still my Dee—”

A woman screamed. Loud, high. Terrified.

The scent hit Simon then. Thick and cloying. Smoke.

Fire.

“Fuck!” Zane spun around and ran for the door. Dee and Simon raced after him.

Not another damn fire. Not again. Grim’s pack, they just weren’t going to stop, not until they killed Dee.

Not on his watch.

Zane shoved open the door at the bottom of the stairs and they walked into—

An inferno.

It should have been impossible. Fire couldn’t spread this fast. With their senses, they would have known but—

But Delaney’s burned. The flames crackled and licked at the ceiling, growing bigger, hungrier, and giving them a glimpse of sweet hell.

“Catalina!” Dee’s scream.

The witch stood behind the bar, seemingly frozen. Her eyes were on the flames that surrounded her. Bright, dancing flames.

The demon swore and charged for her. He waved his hand and the flames dimmed around the witch.

He flew over the fire and grabbed her.

“Burn,” she whispered, but Simon could hear her over the flames. “Burn so fast.” She closed her eyes and turned her head against Zane’s shoulder.

The flames shot higher. The smoke thickened, but the fire didn’t race back toward the witch. Instead, it headed right for Dee.

“Wynter!” Simon yelled. The demon could control fire. He didn’t know what kind of power scale the guy had, but right then, as long as the guy could stop the fire, he didn’t care.

Zane hoisted the witch over his shoulder, then made a fast movement with his hand.

The flames flickered, faded.

Only to start rising once again.

“Magic!”

Yeah, he’d figured that out. Dee had a tablecloth in her hands and she was fighting the flames.

“No, forget it, Dee! Get out of here!” Zane ordered.

Good plan. Simon grabbed her arm.

The demon led the way, using his power to push back the fire that just kept rising, rising…

“Her!” The demon’s snarl. He froze before the door. Simon barreled into him. So not the time for this—

But then Zane ran forward. The glass doors exploded around them. Smoke billowed up into the night. Simon sucked in sharp, clean air, choking as his lungs began to clear.

“Stop her!” He glanced up at the yell. He saw Zane struggling with the witch, and Simon glimpsed a woman with curly red hair running down the street.

He blinked and Dee took off. Fast, so fast, his little vampire. She caught the woman in two seconds and tackled her, sending her prey slamming into the pavement.

“No!” The woman’s cry. Afraid. Furious. “Why can’t you die?”

Oh, so not what she needed to be saying to Dee.

He bounded after them.

Dee flipped the woman over and pinned her wrists to the ground.

Simon saw the tears on the woman’s cheeks. Long, thin trickles that slipped over her skin, fell into her hair.

“Do it, Nina.” The whisper was on the wind. He froze. “Kill her or they die.”

Dee’s head snapped up. “What the hell? Hey, jerkoff—come out and face me!”

Another vamp. One of Grim’s men. Had to be. But he was telling the woman to kill Dee? How was she supposed to do—

“Ignitor!” Zane’s scream of fear.

No, no. Simon’s gaze snapped back to the woman’s, and he finally saw her eyes, the bleed of red.

Grim wasn’t screwing around anymore. He’d pulled out the big guns.

“Dee!”

Ignitor—a human. A very, very rare human gifted with the power of fire. She’d burn Dee, burn her with just a thought and kill her in an instant. She’d—

“Hell, no,” Dee growled when her T-shirt began to smoke. Then she slammed the woman’s head back against the cement. Hard.

The Ignitor’s eyes fell closed, hiding that deadly red, and she lay, limp, beneath Dee.

He could love that vampire.

Already did.

“I’ve got her,” Dee called. “You get that other bastard!”

Done. Simon took off, legs pumping fast. He flew down the dark street, snaked into the alley. His nose twitched as he caught the scent of blood. A woman stood, weaving slightly, her hand on the grimy wall. Alcohol fumed off her but she’d been prey, too.

Close.

“Come out!”

The woman flinched. She looked over at him with bleary eyes. “Run,” he told her quietly, flashing fangs.

She did.

That left him all alone in the alley with his prey. A Dumpster squeaked. A shoe scraped over the asphalt. Simon licked his lips. “Hiding with the garbage?”

The vamp came out, claws ready, a bit of blood still dripping down his mouth. “You picked the wrong side in this fight.”

Simon lifted his brows. He caught the whisper of footsteps behind him. His backup. No way would he ever mistake Dee’s rich scent. “I don’t think so.”

The vamp’s eyes darted behind Simon, and for an instant, fear flashed on his thin face. Then he spun around, and leapt up, clearing the brick wall behind him in one bound.

Simon lunged after him. No way was this scum getting away from him.

The man knew how to leap over a wall. Really kinda sexy the way he could move so fast.

Dee exhaled, watched a bit longer, admiring her view, then she eyed the wall. Um, yeah, she could take that. She hoped.

Dee ran—a running start never hurt anything—then leapt. She cleared the wall, but slammed into the ground below. The impact jarred every bone in her body, but Dee rolled, and came back up on her feet and took off.

A park. A big, dark, yeah, things-could-be-hiding-here park. Overgrown grass. Too tall trees. Too thick brush. Great.

The vamp with the ferret face was fast; she’d give him that. Her heart raced in her ears and her legs kicked beneath her as she charged after him and Simon. No way was this guy getting away, not after he’d set a freaking Ignitor on her.

An Ignitor. A vampire’s nightmare. A being that could raise and control fire.

Not a good way for a vampire to die.

She’d watched vamps burn before. Dee just hadn’t thought that would ever be the way she’d go out.

Of course, she hadn’t thought she’d be a vamp, either.

Simon lunged forward and launched his body at the vampire. Even from the distance that separated them, she could hear the thud when their bodies crashed into the earth.

She pushed forward with a burst of speed.

Simon flipped the vampire over—and the ferret bastard started laughing.

That’s when the hair rose on Dee’s nape. When she realized that the shadows were too dark.

And that vampires didn’t always rely on their first course of attack.

Backup plans. She wasn’t the only one who had them. Dee let her claws out. “Simon.”

His head jerked up.

“He’s leading us by the balls. It’s a trap.” One they’d walked, no, ran, straight into. The Ignitor hadn’t been the only threat.

Not by a long shot.

The vamps came from the shadows. Four. No, five. Oh, damn, six.

Simon rose slowly, no fear flickering in his eyes or showing on the hard planes of his face. His shoulders rolled and he smiled. “Guess you’re all ready for an ass kicking, huh?”

The man might be insane. This many vamps? No, hell, no. Dee was very much afraid they would be the ones getting the ass kicking. She still didn’t even understand all her Born powers. No way could she take on this many vamps at once.

Laughter. The wild, crazy kind you usually only heard in B-movies. Ferret-face rose to his feet. He spat at Simon. Blood hit the ground near his feet. “I-I knew they h-had a hole here.” More laughter. What was the deal with Mr. Giggles? “Can’t take us all, c-can you?” His back straightened and that grin nearly split his face.

Simon’s arm brushed hers.

Dee sighed and pulled out a stake. Some habits just couldn’t be broken. Maybe they shouldn’t be broken. She eyed the closing circle of vamps, looking for the head of the snake. Because there was always a head, one with dripping fangs. The alpha. The vamp who wielded the most power and who had to be taken down first, because otherwise, he’d take you down. Fast, hard, and dirty.

Just because she liked her sex that way, it didn’t mean she wanted her second death to be like that.

There. The guy with the long, dreaded red hair. The one with green eyes that glinted and stared too hard at her. The one with his claws out and his hands up. He stood before the others, just by about a foot or two. Not toss-away prey.

Threat number one.

“Got him,” Simon whispered.

Hey, if he wanted to go first. “Knock yourself out,” she whispered and her gaze dipped to the woman on the alpha’s right. Asian. Exotic eyes too dark and deadly, red, red lips, pale, smooth skin and—

The woman lunged forward.

What?

Dee snarled and brought her stake up. Fight. Survive. Her mantra. Always.

But the woman didn’t come for her. Instead, her claws ripped into the still laughing vampire’s back. Dug deep.

He screamed.

“Hold him tight, Jun.”

The vamp screamed even louder when the woman dug her claws in deeper.

The alpha stalked toward him.

“What the hell?” Simon muttered.

Dee just shook her head and kept her stake up.

“You don’t know us. You come down here, smelling of fresh blood, bringing the risen Born, and you think we’re gonna do your bidding?”

“Grim—” Spittle flew. “Grim’s gonna—”

The alpha shook his head. “Grim’s gonna die, and so are you.”

A whimper now, not a scream.

The alpha vampire jerked his head. “Make it fast, Jun. But make it hurt.”

“N-no, no, Grim—”

“Grim can rot. I’m not his bitch.”

Wow. Now that wasn’t a statement she’d expected.

Two other vampires rushed to Jun’s side. They hauled the now begging vamp away and Big Red turned to face her.

A sliver of wood bit into her palm.

His nostrils widened, flaring a bit. “Going to kill me?”

“I was considering it,” she told him honestly. “But I thought I might see your plans first.”

A short, shrill cry burst from the darkness.

Make it fast, Jun. But make it hurt.

Looked like Jun had done both.

So killing was obviously on the agenda for him. Fair enough. It had been on hers, too, but she’d hoped to force answers out of the now dead vamp first.

“You going after Grim?”

If she survived the next five minutes, yes.

“And you…” Big Red turned his green stare—green, when it should have been black, definitely a time for a vamp to switch to the hunting mode—on Simon. “That spell still working for you?”

Simon tensed. “How do you know about—”

A hard laugh. “I know about a hell of a lot.” His gaze trekked back to Dee and he smiled.

Okay, that smile had goose bumps rising on her arms. Because while his eyes hadn’t so much as flickered in color, his fangs were out and Dee could feel his power in the air. Pressing around her. No, surrounding her. He hadn’t gotten his little gang of vamps to attack them, yet, but Dee had the very distinct impression that the order could come at any moment.

Jun came back to his side, her steps sure and steady. Her hands reached for the lead vampire, her hold possessive.

“I felt you—” he murmured, “the moment you rose.”

Jun’s nails lengthened into claws. Blood trickled down the male vamp’s arm when those claws slashed his skin.

Dee braced her legs and got ready for the attack that had to be coming. As far as she knew, there was no way this guy should be feeling anything about her. “Did you now?”

“Um. Been waiting a long time on you.”

If Jun’s glare got any hotter, Dee figured she might start to burn a second time that night. “Just how long have you been in this game, Red?”

“Name’s Tore,” he said, “and baby, I’ve been in this game longer than you can imagine.”

Born.

“Oh, I don’t know. I can imagine an awful lot.” She caught the slight hitch in Simon’s breath and knew he’d just realized they were dealing with a Born. Out of one fire, into another. “So are you some screwed-up prick like Grim? And what the hell are you doing in my town?” Cause no way, no way had this guy been in the city long. Word traveled too fast about the Borns, and Pak hadn’t said anything about two of the super vamps being around.

Pak wouldn’t have kept that Intel from her, would he?

The faint smile wiped from Tore’s face.

“He’s nothing like Grim,” Jun rasped and Dee knew the chick was walking a pretty short anger leash. “Nothing.”

“Good to know.” Simon’s body was in the same false relaxed stance as hers, and she knew if she so much as inched forward, he’d jump to attack.

“But we still don’t know why the hell he’s here, and yeah, Tore, I do know exactly who you are.” Banked fury rumbled in Simon’s voice.

Someone let me in on the party. Dee darted a quick glance at Simon.

His black eyes burned. “He’s Grim’s brother.”

What? Damn, talk about one powerful bloodline. Two Borns?

“An unfortunate circumstance of birth,” Tore murmured. “Can’t really choose family now, can we?”

Her heart slammed into her chest. “No, we can’t.” You couldn’t always save them either.

But you could avenge them.

“I thought death would finally let me escape the bastard.” Tore shook his head. His dreads brushed over his shoulders. “Should have known things wouldn’t be that easy.” His eyes raked over her. “I really thought you’d be…bigger.”

Dee shook her head, fed up. “Look, are we gonna stand around here pissing and moaning all night, or are we gonna fight?”

“Not so fast,” Simon growled. “We need to—”

“I can’t kill him,” Tore told her, patting Jun’s hand with a soft, “Easy, love.” One red brow rose. “But according to the seer—”

“Uh, you want to kill Grim?” But, then, didn’t everybody?

“He killed me once. Payback should be…acceptable.”

“Right.” Dee shook her head. “I don’t get it, why can’t you—”

“Kill him?” Simon fired at the same time.

“Because we’re linked. Grim can’t control me, but he can feel me. He can slip into my thoughts, no matter how hard I try to shield my mind, and he knows when I’m coming for him. He runs, always runs, and leaves a bloodbath for me to clean up.” His teeth snapped together. “Blood bonds, you know? There was no bite between us, but we shared a mother and the bond linking us has always held.”

This guy didn’t sound like a raving lunatic. He didn’t act like a power mad vamp, either.

He’d come into town, without raising a stir, without leaving a river of blood in her streets.

“Can’t get it, can you?” Jun asked, voice sharp. “Even now that you’re one of us—”

Uh, no. Not quite.

“—you still think we all deserve to rot, don’t you?”

No. Her eyes went to Simon again. No, all vampires weren’t evil. Some fought like mad to keep their souls. Their spirits. Some of them, well, they just got stuck in a curse or a war they didn’t understand. “I’ve never gone after every vampire,” Dee said slowly and she kept her focus on Simon. He glanced at her. Their eyes held. “Only those with bounties on their heads.” The killers. Those who loved to torture and raise hell.

“Like the bounty that’s on your head?” Jun pressed.

Simon’s jaw locked. “Don’t push me,” he growled at the chatty chick.

Her hero. So sweet. Her fingers lifted and brushed against his cheek. His head turned, just a bit, and his lips pressed against her palm.

“You’re making a mistake,” Tore said. “You shouldn’t trust him. Take him, screw him all you like, but don’t let your feelings blind you. You’ll die if you do.”

Simon attacked. He lunged at the other vampire, wrapped his left hand around Tore’s throat and lifted the stake he’d snatched from Dee—

Jun raked her claws down Simon’s side.

The vampires closed in.

“Stop!” Dee screamed. No, Simon wasn’t going out in front of her. No. Way.

At her cry, every vampire froze. Some of them—wait, did a few of those guys just lower their heads?

A vampire celebrity. That’s what she was now. Hell. “Let. Him. Go.” But nobody moved. “Jun, chick—I’m talking to you.” She could take that vampiress down, no doubt about it.

“He won’t kill my chosen mate!” Jun didn’t ease her hold, but she didn’t go in for another attack, either.

“Yeah, well, he won’t insult mi—” Whoa. What was that? No way she’d been about to say mine. “He won’t insult the guy that’s had my back this whole time. I know Simon’s linked to Grim. I know the spell won’t hold forever.” Her shoulders squared. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

Tore whistled, or well, kinda gurgled.

“Simon…”

His hand fell away from Tore’s neck, but the stake remained pressed right over the other vampire’s heart. “I’d die to protect her.”

“You’ll probably have to do just that.” Tore’s gaze dropped to the stake. “Lesson for you, little vampiress. When you get to be as old as I am—as old as Grim—killing us is hard.” His fingers rose, curled around the stake. “It’ll take more than a stake through the heart to keep Grim down.”

She’d heard a rumor like that years before. Talk of another Born who’d been staked and nearly decapitated, but the guy had gone to ground and risen again. “So what’s your killing tip?”

“Burn him. Burn him until there’s nothing left.”

Easier said than done.

Simon swore and stepped back, yanking the stake with him. “Why don’t you just tell us where to find the asshole?”

“Go back for your charred witch. She knows.”

The vamps began to retreat into the shadows.

“And where are you going?” Dee demanded.

“I just wanted to see you and to figure out if you were up to the task before you.” A somewhat sad shake of his head. “You’re not.”

Now he was going to insult her? “I could’ve had you dead on this ground in the first minute.”

“And I could have taken your heart in the first thirty seconds.” A taunt. One that had her hands clenching. “Don’t hesitate on your kills. Stop thinking like a human.”

Impossible. Inside, she still was human.

Deep inside, and she always would be.

Surface. Maybe Zane had been right about that. Maybe rage had been blinding her for too long.

“When you face Grim, strike fast and strike first. Because you won’t get a second shot.” He turned away.

So did Jun. Protecting his back. Good girl. She could admire that.

“Oh…” He stopped, looked back. “Tell the Ignitor they’re dead.”

Then he was gone.

But the knot in Dee’s gut had just gotten bigger.

Spells were powerful things. A few words, charms, a wisp of magic, and the world could change.

Dee and Simon rushed back to Delaney’s. Simon half-expected to find the street swarming with fire trucks and neck-craning bystanders, eager for a glimpse of tragedy or heroism.

But Catalina’s spell held, and though smoke curled lightly from the shattered windows, no humans were near the bar. If a human came by and glanced at Delaney’s, they’d see no damage. No wreckage. Not while the spell was in place.

But Simon saw it all.

Catalina stood in front of the broken doors, her shoulders slumped, her clothes stained with soot.

The demon wasn’t near her. He’d positioned himself next to a parked truck. A beat-up, older, gray pickup. When he caught sight of them, his head jerked. “You get the bastard?”

“He’s dead.” Not by his hand. Tore. Who would have thought that vamp would come calling? Simon had known he was looking at the Viking, even before Tore had opened his mouth and started talking about Grim.

The guy’s reputation definitely proceeded him.

He jerked his thumb toward the truck. Even with the tinted windows, he could see the slumped figure of the woman. “She still out?”

“Yeah, Dee hits hard.”

Dee grunted at that. “When someone is trying to fry me, I do.” She stalked toward the bar. “Catalina?”

The witch didn’t turn.

Dee touched her shoulder. She flinched. “Catalina, I-I need your help.”

Finally, the woman turned. Her face had bleached of color, and her lips quivered when she asked, “Do I get to kill her?”

From the corner of his eye, Simon saw the sudden stiffness of Zane’s body. “Cat…”

“She would have killed me.”

“No.” Dee’s hand fell away. “She was looking for me. This wasn’t a hunt, Cat. She wasn’t here to bind or destroy you.”

A hunt. Simon’s brows rose. Witch hunts were supposed to be nightmares from the past. Burning and screaming and hell.

From the past.

Then why did they keep happening so often in the present?

“Doesn’t matter why.” Catalina’s chin lifted. “She would have burned us all.”

Simon remembered the tears he’d seen streaking down the woman’s cheeks. And she was right. The fire could have destroyed the building in one fast fury. But, lucky for them, they’d all had time to leave before the fire burned their flesh away.

With an Ignitor, they could have been destroyed in seconds. An Ignitor always had perfect control over the fire.

The woman had hesitated with her flames. Why? Slowly, he said, “I think there’s more going on here than we know.” Tell the Ignitor they’re dead. His gut knotted. Couldn’t be good. “Let her talk. Let’s find out what she knows.”

“I want her dead.” Fury and fear talking from Cat.

He knew ’em both when he heard ’em.

“Stand down, Cat. Stand. Down.” A demand from Zane. One that came just as—

The Ignitor blew out the back window of the truck. She hurled herself through the flames, crashed into the cement. Stumbled, but managed to get to her feet.

Zane took her down. Hard. “And don’t even think of burning me because, baby, I control the—”

“They’re dead,” Simon said, the words ripping from him. Probably the wrong time. Should have used some tact, but the witch was looking twitchy and with her magic—no way could they take chances. They needed someone left alive to question, and he didn’t want to lose another link to Grim.

“Simon!” Dee’s soft and shocked voice.

The Ignitor stopped thrashing beneath the demon. “Wh-what did you say?”

“They’re dead.” Who was he talking about? Didn’t know. Had to be someone close to her. “A vamp told us.”

A sob broke from her. Not one of those soft sniffles that some women could do, but a hard, chest-shaking eruption of agony. Pain.

Her face reddened and the tears leaked from her eyes. She tried to curl into herself, but Zane held her fast. “What the hell?”

Then Dee was there. Staring down at the other woman with recognition. Understanding. One who’d been there, and seen the darkness. “Her family. It’s…Christ. They’re gone.” She swallowed. “I-I cried like that, too. Zane, l-let her go.”

He stared down at the woman, the struggle on his face.

“She won’t hurt us,” Dee said.

The woman’s breath gasped out. She shuddered and cried as if the world were ending.

For her, maybe it was.

Simon’s hands clenched. What if the vampire was wrong? Lying wouldn’t be something new for his kind.

For any kind.

How many times had he lied? Tricked? To further his own plans—too many times to count. “We haven’t seen the bodies,” Simon said. The words slipped out, an effort to comfort. That agony—no, he couldn’t see it. Couldn’t hear it. Because when he looked at her, he saw Dee’s hell too easily.

And remembered his own.

No, Mom! Mom! Dad! So much blood.

Her watery eyes turned to him. Hope, faint, flickering, shined through the pain.

He locked his jaw and Simon gritted, “A Born vampire named Tore wanted us to deliver a message to you. He’s the one who said they were dead. We have no proof and—”

“Wh-what about Greg?”

Greg? “The vampire who brought you here to kill us?”

Zane’s hands were tight around her wrists. Too tight. When the demon suddenly freed her, Simon saw the red imprints on her flesh. Zane swore when he caught sight of the marks.

“Y-yes, h-he’s the one—” She pushed herself up.

“Greg’s dead.” Dee put her hands on her hips. “Very dead.”

Hope again, brighter this time. “Then there might be a-a chance. I-if we can get to the house before anyone else ch-checks in, I can get them out—”

They’re dead.

Simon shook his head. False hope, that’s all he’d given her. Freaking false—

“The vampires drained the man first. The one with streaks of silver in his hair.” Catalina’s voice. Calm and cool. Simon’s gaze found her huddled on the ground, leaning over a thick shard of broken glass.

Her eyes were fixed on that glass. No, on what she could see in the glass.

Scrying. A witch’s talent.

The human’s heartbeat raced in his ears. Pounding, fast, too fast. Dangerous that.

“They held the woman, made her watch. Then it was her turn.” Catalina picked up the glass and blood dripped from her fingertips when the sharp edges cut her. “Death waits in that house near the water. Only death.”

The Ignitor didn’t cry out again. The tears came silently, long, pouring streams, and Dee snarled.

Her fangs were out, her claws glinting, and when she rounded on the witch, her eyes were perfect midnight black. “See him.” Grim.

The blood drops splattered onto the ground. The scent drew him and power pulsed in the air.

Simon crossed to the witch.

Catalina’s eyes had been glassy with her magic. A dazed blink seemed to bring her back to them. “I-I didn’t mean—I haven’t even cast my circle—”

No time. The bodies were piling up. The evil closing in.

No more attacks.

Our turn.

Simon swiped his claws over his forearm. He lifted his hand and let the blood drop onto the darkened glass. “See him through me.”

A glow lit her eyes, then she stared down at the glass once more. He couldn’t see a damn thing. Soot. Ash. The red smear of his blood. Darkness. But Catalina stared and stared, and the silence thickened around them.

“Where.” A demand from Dee. He should have known her patience would break first.

“Texas.” Soft, tired. “Waiting, in a place called Heuco, near the Mexican border.”

Hueco. Hollow.

Excitement burned through him. “Cut the link.” She couldn’t look too long. With Grim, there was no telling who he’d forced onto his side. An Ignitor was just the start. He could have a witch or even a warlock. Probably a warlock. When choosing his weapons, Grim would go right for someone who’d stepped onto the dark side of magic. A warlock would be able to sense Catalina’s power if she stayed tuned in too long.

The glass shattered in her hands. “Can’t find me now,” she whispered. “But I found you.”

Hot damn. They’d done it. His gaze met Dee’s. Her lips began to curl, just a bit.

He hurried to her. Kissed her hard and deep. Tasted her.

The end was coming.

Not for them, oh, no. For them, it would be a beginning. They’d have forever.

But for Grim, hell waited.

Simon would get his freedom. Dee would have her revenge, then they’d have each other.

Pretty fucking perfect.

“Is the trap set?” Grim asked, his eyes on the woman who danced before him. Human. He liked the human dancers best. This one—her eyes smiled, flirted. Her heart raced and all that sweet blood pumped with every sway of her body.

“Greg didn’t report in.”

At that, Grim pulled his stare away from the woman. Music beat, a sensual rhythm, and he knew the woman kept on slithering. “How long has he been missing?” He didn’t worry about guarding his words with the dancer. No need with her.

“An hour.” Malik, a vampire who’d been with him since the guy’s first Taken breath five hundred years before, met Grim’s gaze directly.

An hour was plenty of time to die. Grim rubbed his hand over his chin. “The parents are dead?” His Ignitor was such a useful tool. Weak package, but an incredible power inside.

“Their bodies should be found tomorrow.”

A quick tip to the cops, yes, that would do just fine. “And my brother?” Like he didn’t know the asshole was around. The instant Tore had crossed the ocean, he’d felt the fool. He’d taken steps to prepare for him. Tore wouldn’t have an advantage in this hunt.

“No word yet.”

There wouldn’t be. “He won’t come for me.” Tore had learned his lesson the last time when Grim had left the dead children for him to find.

His brother had always had a soft spot for the kiddies.

When you knew someone so well, it was easy to work their weak spots. He knew just how to make Tore suffer.

His brother had begged him for death over twelve hundred years ago. When he’d seen what Grim had become. When he’d found the bodies and known that he’d be the next to feel Grim’s fangs on his throat.

There’d been no controlling the bloodlust. No stopping the vicious thirst. But he hadn’t wanted to stop it. He’d just wanted to kill.

He’d granted his little brother’s wish. Too bad Tore hadn’t stayed down.

“He’ll be our next project,” Grim said, giving a nod. “It’s time we freed him from his torment.” A gift.

The music ended. He glanced over at the woman. Heaving chest. Glistening lips.

He’d screw her first.

Then kill her.

“It’s a pity. I always loved my brother.”

Malik didn’t speak. Didn’t call him a liar. Or a fool.

And Grim was both. After all, he’d let Tore survive for this long. He should have taken his head long ago.

But when his brother had woken—just like me.

Sentiment. Attachment. So yes, he had a soft spot for the man he’d known as his brother. Tore had tried to save him once, right before his father’s bitch of a new wife had betrayed them all.

Tore had come to him, worked to free him from the chains, but there hadn’t been enough time.

Too many warriors around them. Too much rage.

Blood eagle.

He squeezed his eyes shut but the memory of agony seared his flesh. His hands reached behind him automatically, touching his back.

No wings.

But he’d never forget, never. The snap of his ribs, the jerk backward—

Death had not come fast enough as his blood spilled onto the ground.

The silence hit him then. Thick and complete. His arms still behind him, he looked up at the dancer. Dark skin. Long, supple limbs. Her eyes were on him. Studying. Watching.

Watching like all those others. Watching and laughing as he fell to the ground.

No one had helped him then. No one.

“We’ll kill the Born bitch.” Grim’s voice came out hoarse. He’d screamed that long ago night. Screamed until they took his breath and ripped his lungs out.

Blood eagle. No myth of Viking torture. Real. Real.

He would not die again. The vampiress coming would know the agony. Not him. Not again.

She’d die. He stepped forward. The dancer lifted her chin and asked, “Kill me…or change me?”

Humans were always wanting to live forever. He reached for her and didn’t answer.

Because he’d never wanted to be a liar.

Or a killer.

Such a pity he was both.