The Samaritan crept closer. “There’s a woman outside. I can get her to call for help—”
“No…”
The Samaritan moved a few more precious inches closer.
Perfect.
Simon’s hand whipped up and caught the guy right around the neck, closing off his airway. “I can’t let you call for her at all.”
The fear came then. In the widening of the man’s eyes, in the fast drumming of his heart.
“Don’t worry,” Simon said, “I’m not going to kill you.”
“Simon?” Dee’s worried voice as she rapped on the door. “Everything okay?” The rusty door began to inch open.
“Fine!” He yelled back. “Be right there.”
The door froze.
He stared into his prey’s eyes. “I won’t kill you,” he repeated again because the guy had really only wanted to help.
And that was exactly what he’d do.
Three minutes later, Simon left the Samaritan sleeping in a bathroom stall. The cleaner stall. The one that didn’t have feces floating in the toilet.
Dee still waited outside for him.
“We need to hit the road,” he told her, trying to brush past her.
“No, you’re hurt. Let me help you—”
He shook his head. “Flesh wound, just like yours.” The scent of her blood hung in the air between them. Not as much of a temptation though, not now.
She braced her legs and cocked her chin. “Let me see it.”
This part, he’d expected. Dee Daniels was one stubborn woman. He lifted his shirt. Twisted a bit, and showed her the long gash on his lower left side.
Not really a mark made by a bullet. One he’d carved himself, using his claws.
He and Dee were sure going to have to talk soon. No way would he be able to keep hiding his true self from her.
Just wanted her to trust me first.
Trust. Such a hard thing to earn and so easy to lose. One word. One wrong move and she’d turn away from him.
“They’ve got some bandages inside,” she said. “Let me get some, clean you up better.”
A grim nod. If that was what she wanted. “Only if we do the same to you.” They’d have to hurry. Simon didn’t want to risk any more unexpected company. Not until his strength had fully returned.
Dee turned away from him, but he reached out and snagged her arm.
A frown pulled her brows low when she glanced back at him. “Simon?”
“Trust me, Dee.”
She blinked. “I don’t—”
“I know, you don’t.” That was the problem. “I just want you to try. I’m not one of the bad guys.” Well, depending on your definition of bad. “You and I—we want the same thing.”
For the vampires who were hunting her to pay.
“I know you’re after the Born,” he told her, deciding to cut through the shit.
Dee’s gaze darted around the deserted lot. “Not here. We can’t talk about this now—”
His back teeth clenched. “Then let’s hurry and get to safety, because we damn well have to talk.”
And maybe, just maybe, confess.
Can’t. Lose. Her.
Safety was her grandfather’s cabin. A place he’d built by hand long, long ago.
Her parents had sold the place when she’d been a kid, but she’d gotten lucky and been able to buy it back two years ago. The only tie to my family.
Winding dirt roads took them back to the two-bedroom shelter. The old wood gleamed in the bright sunlight.
“Not much,” she murmured. “But I installed a generator up here a few months ago. So, we’ll have power, a roof over us, and time to figure out our next move.”
He eyed the cabin. “Can the vamps trace this place back to you?”
Dee slammed her door and ignored the throb in her shoulder. “No, Night Watch made sure this place was buried for me.” Because she’d wanted a retreat, no, a haven.
Pak had made certain she was protected.
She found the key she’d hidden so carefully on her last visit. The scent of pine teased her nose. Birds chirped from their nests high in the trees. “Come on,” she said. “We’re both about to crash.” And after the night they’d had, the crash would be hard.
A flick of her hand and the key slid into the lock. The door opened soundlessly and the place was just as she’d left it. Rocking chair, faded rug, the quilt she’d—
“Uh, are those stakes?”
A smile lifted her lips as she stared at the glass gun cabinet. “Stakes…” She crossed the room and spun the lock, turning the code automatically. “Knives, guns. Everything we need to be ready for those bastards.”
Her hand lifted and opened the door. Then her fingers smoothed over the wood and tested the sharp points of the stakes. If she’d been better armed before, they wouldn’t have been on the run now. No way would she be caught unaware again. Out here, every sound was magnified. Human ears or not, she’d hear the ass**les coming long before they stepped onto her small porch.
“You hate them, don’t you?”
At his soft question, Dee glanced back and found Simon watching her with hooded eyes.
No need to ask about the “them” in question. “Don’t you?” She fired back. “I know what happened, Simon. I know they killed your family. Slaughtered them, just like they did mine.”
His jaw tightened and he slammed the cabin door closed with his heel. “I want those bastards. I want them to pay.” He wrenched the lock into place and stalked toward her. “I took some of them out already. Hunted them down…” He reached behind her, grabbed one of the deadly stakes, “and made them beg for death.”
Her breath caught. Vengeance. How long had she wanted it?
“How long have you been hunting the ones who killed your family, Dee?”
“Since that night.” A stark whisper. But she’d been little more than a kid. She hadn’t known where to hunt. Hadn’t known how to track. By the time she’d learned, they’d been long gone from the city. “I won’t stop,” she told him and her gaze darted to his hand. The stake was so sharp. So deadly. “Not until I find the bastards.” Because she’d never forget their faces. Never.
He pulled back a bit and lifted the stake between them. “How many vampires have you killed? How many did you stake because you were trying to punish the ones who hurt you?”
Her eyes narrowed. What was this? She wasn’t in the mood for some kind of therapy session. Not her thing. “The vamps I staked were killers. They got off on fear, on torture—”