He glanced over his shoulder toward her. Her lower lip quivered as she looked toward the now-complete version of her father. She nodded.
That was all he needed. Shane raised the sword above his head. Johnathan’s eyes snapped open. Shane brought the sword down with all his strength. He beheaded Johnathan’s animated corpse in one stroke. Blood sprayed across the wall, and he prayed Vera had closed her eyes.
Before Shane could comprehend what was going on, the sound of Vera’s scream rang in his ears, mixed with the cursing of his fellow hunters. Damon’s sword fell from Shane’s hands as Nathanial threw himself forward and grabbed Shane by the scruff of his shirt, slamming him into the ground as he used his power to detain Vera and the other hunters.
The first blow landed against Shane’s jaw, causing him to bite down so hard on his tongue that the iron taste of his own blood filled his mouth. He was vaguely aware of the sound of Vera screaming in the background, along with the encouraging chants of his fellow hunters.
Shane spat blood straight into Nathanial’s face. Nathanial recoiled, just long enough to allow Shane a straight shot. He punched Nathanial so hard in the jaw his fist throbbed in pain and the warlock’s head snapped back from the force of the blow. Shane grabbed hold of Nathanial’s shirt as he twisted his own body to throw Nathanial off him. The two men rolled across the hardwood floor several times before Shane finally landed on top. He pinned Nathanial with his weight, pummeling punch after punch into Nathanial’s now-bloodied nose.
Anger and adrenaline fueled him, despite the ache in his spine and at the base of his skull. Each blow was retribution for the victims, for their families, for every disgusting word the sick bastard had spoken to Vera. Just as Shane was certain Nathanial was about to pass out cold, a glint of silver caught his eyes.
“Knife!” Vera screeched.
Shane leaned back just as Nathanial swiped his blade through the air, nicking Shane’s forearm and then slicing Shane across the cheek. Searing pain radiated through his face, but it didn’t slow him down. He was off Nathanial in seconds, and the warlock stood to face him, blade in hand. They circled each other like predatory animals, blood pouring down both their faces.
Shane carefully watched Nathanial for any hint of when he might attack. “I should have known you’d be the type of asshole to bring a knife to a fistfight. Don’t think you can win without cheating?”
Nathanial grinned. “I think of it less as cheating and more as innovation.” He lunged, the knife hissing through the air.
Shane sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the blade, and reached for Nathanial’s knife-hand to disarm him. Suddenly he was slammed to the ground, the air rushing from his lungs as he hit the floor. Nathanial stood over him triumphantly, empty hand raised, having clearly swept Shane over with nothing more than a wave. Shit. Now he was down and vulnerable, exactly where the warlock wanted him.
“Now you’re resorting to magic? You’re really afraid I’ll beat you, aren’t you?” Shane gasped as he tried to regain his breath.
Nathanial shook his head. “I never said I fought fair.” He brought his blade down with all his strength.
Shane attempted to roll out of the way, but he was too slow. A hard blow that felt like the edge of Nathanial’s fist hit him straight in the chest. As Nathanial straightened to his full height, Shane prepared to deflect another stroke of the blade, but it didn’t come. Nathanial just stood there. A sharp ringing filled Shane’s ears, followed by the sound of Vera screaming as if she were dying. He turned his head and glanced toward the gorgeous woman pinned against the wall. Her normally snow-white skin had turned blotchy and red as tears flooded her cheeks. She continued to scream. Why was she screaming? Was Nathanial hurting her?
Shane looked back toward Nathanial. The bastard was laughing as he stared down at Shane’s chest. Shane followed the line of Nathanial’s gaze to the wooden handle sticking out of his skin just to the right of his sternum. Nathanial’s blade.
For several seconds his brain refused to comprehend what was going on, but the sight of crimson blood blossoming from the wound clued him in as a dull throb began to pulse through the wound. Nathanial had stabbed him.
As a hunter faced regularly with life-threatening situations and the nastier side of both humanity and, well...the inhuman, Shane had given a decent amount of thought to how he was going to die. As he lay on the floor of the coven’s gathering place, his blood pouring from his chest and beginning to form a small pool around him, it occurred to him that despite all that thinking, he had never expected death to come so soon.
Sure, it wasn’t as if your normal hunter could expect to live to the ripe old American’s average age of seventy-five, but he had at least expected to make it past thirty. Somehow, he found that fact humorous, though he couldn’t find it in him to laugh. He had always hoped it would be quicker than this, but he supposed there were worse ways to go. He’d expected to be alone, rather than surrounded by his fellow hunters, men who were practically his brothers, and certainly not with the gorgeous woman he loved crying by his side.
Love? Did he love Vera? He turned his head toward her. The tears running down her face pained him more than the wound in his chest, and his heart ached. Yes, he was definitely falling in love with her, and he knew that if he’d had more time on God’s green earth he would have grown to love her fully, that one day soon he wouldn’t have been able to imagine his life without her by his side.
Don’t worry. He tried to mouth the words to her, but she only cried harder. Didn’t she realize that it was all going to be okay? That he had bested Nathanial, even though the bastard didn’t realize it yet? Didn’t she realize that he was two steps ahead of the killer?
All Shane’s senses rushed back at once as the pain intensified. The sound of Nathanial’s laughter, Vera’s uncontrollable sobbing and the shouting of his fellow hunters assaulted his ears.
“Though watching you slowly bleed out is truly satisfying, this moment wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t finish what I’d set out to do just so you can see the extent of your failure,” Nathanial said with a vicious smile. “And just maybe you’ll stick around long enough for the show afterward, when I kill your friends and your lovely whore one by one.”
With those words, Nathanial stepped toward the altar and began to chant. An icy coldness seeped into Shane’s skin, and he suddenly felt himself trembling. Cold. He was so cold. Freezing. Spots of black clouded his vision, and he could feel his consciousness beginning to fade.
No, not now. He had to stay conscious. He gathered every ounce of his strength and focused on remaining lucid. Just a few more moments and it would all be over. He had to watch as Nathanial destroyed himself. Then he could die knowing Vera was safe.
As the ancient necromancy spell fell from Nathanial’s lips, he slowly lifted his hand to his chest, clutching at his heart. Despite his obvious pain, he continued to chant, speaking quickly in an attempt to complete the spell. As he nearly reached the climax of the chant, he fell to his knees, gasping for air, grabbing frantically at his chest.
Shane smiled as he began to whisper the ancient spell spoken by generations of witch hunters. These would, he knew, be the last words to pass across his lips. Yes, there were certainly much worse ways to die than this. Even on the brink of nonexistence, besting Nathanial felt so sweet. A practicing necromancer afflicted with the symbol of the witch hunter was destined to die. Shane’s words would only hasten that process. It was like suicide by self-combustion, triggered as soon as the necromancer attempted black magic—such an utterly perfect spell for a narcissist like Nathanial. He would be his own downfall.
As the sound of Shane’s whispering registered in Nathanial’s ears, he slowly turned toward Shane. “Nice try, hunter, but you need to brush up on your black magic. That spell would only kill me if you’d managed to mark me with a witch hunter’s symbol, which we both know you
never had the time to do.”
Despite Nathanial’s continued arrogance, the blood oozing from Shane’s chest and the pain throbbing through him, he grinned. “You should have removed that bullet.”
Nathanial’s eyes widened as realization washed over him, but it was too late. Shane muttered the last words of the spell and watched as Nathanial writhed in deathly pain. And then Shane’s vision went black.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SHANE WOKE TO the distant sounds of beeping machines and hushed whispers. He attempted to open his eyes, but each lid felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. For several moments he tried in vain to make sense of the voices, until finally he managed to work himself up to the Herculean task of opening his eyes.
Blinding white light. That was the first thing he saw, along with several large, blurry, black-clad figures off to one side.
“Shane, my man, you awake?” a Southern-tinged voice asked.
Shane blinked a few times to find himself staring into Ash’s face, his eyes warm as Cajun spice.
“Welcome back, Doc.”
Shane glanced around the white-walled room and down at the IV drip leading into his arm before brilliantly deducing he was in the hospital. He had to admit, he was slightly stunned. He hadn’t died, after all. With the amount of blood he’d lost, he’d been certain he was done for.
“I didn’t die,” Shane said matter-of-factly. At that moment he didn’t have it in him to feel foolish for stating the obvious.
Ash shook his head. “Nope, courtesy of David. Once we got you here, they needed more of your blood type to give you a transfusion, and luckily Damon remembered from our paperwork that you and David are a match.”
David, who was sitting in a nearby chair with Jace right beside him, held up his bandaged arm, looking slightly pale. “You’re welcome.”
Shane nodded. “Thank you.” He glanced at the three hunters’ relieved expressions. “And Nathanial?”
All three of them smiled before Jace said, “You outsmarted that sick fuck like a boss.”
Shane nodded. A sense of pride washed through him, but he couldn’t find the energy to smile. “Good,” he finally said.
“Damon and Trent have been out trackin’ down the remainin’ members of the bastard’s coven since the doctors announced you were stabilized. You’ve been out around twenty-four hours, so they should be about finished by now. It’s all over with,” Ash added.
“And Vera?” Shane asked.
“I’m right here,” a sweet, familiar voice said. She stepped around the corner from the hallway and into the room. “I didn’t want to intrude unless you asked for me, so I figured I’d just wait around until you woke up.”
Ash glanced between the two of them. “I don’t think you’re the one intrudin’, darlin’.” He patted Shane lightly on the shoulder. “We’ll be right outside.” He stepped toward the door and signaled for David and Jace to follow him.
Once the three hunters had filed out, Vera pulled up the chair David had been using and sat down at Shane’s bedside.
“Are you okay?” Shane asked.
Vera smiled. “Am I okay? Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the one who was stabbed.”
“This little thing?” He glanced toward his bandaged chest. “It’ll heal.”
She shook her head as she continued to smile. “Leave it to a hunter to try to be tough when he’s lying in a hospital bed.” She reached across the sheets and laid her hand on top of his. A moment of silence passed between them.
There were so many things Shane wanted to say to her, but he didn’t even know where to begin. Finally, he managed, “I’m sorry for everything Nathanial said to you. It killed me to have to wait outside, knowing he was treating you like that.”
Vera waved her free hand in dismissal. “You didn’t say those things. Nathanial did. I knew if you could have, you wouldn’t have let him talk to me that way.”
Shane nodded. “I have so many things I feel like I need to apologize to you for.”
A grin lifted Vera’s lips. “Well, that isn’t one of them. Scaring me half to death by making me think you were dying, now that’s a real big one right there. Next time warn me of the plan ahead of time.”
Shane gave a small shrug, as much as he could manage given the pain in his chest. “Honestly, I wasn’t entirely certain the plan would work, since I’d never tried the spell before.”
Vera’s eyes widened. “You threw yourself in front of Nathanial like that, baiting him with insults, and you didn’t know if it would work?”
He nodded again. “I knew that was our only chance. I was either going to die trying or die not trying, so I decided to give it a shot. He kept calling you a junkie, and it’s just not true. I couldn’t let him break your confidence. I had to do something to stop him.”
Vera opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, then quickly closed it again. She patted his hand lightly, until finally she whispered, “Thanks for that.”
They lingered in silence for what seemed like hours before finally she gave his hand one final pat. “I guess I’ll see you in class, Dr. Grey.” She stood to leave.
He grabbed hold of her wrist. “Vera, don’t go. I have to tell you something.”
She stared down into his face, waiting for him to speak. In spite of everything he had been through in the past forty-eight hours—battling a sadistic killer, being stabbed, facing death—nothing scared him as much as the confession he was about to make. He gulped down his fear and forced the words out. “When we were in there, after Nathanial had stabbed me, I thought I was dying. I really thought I was going to die, and one of my last thoughts before I blacked out was that I was glad you were there, that it wouldn’t have felt right if I was dying and you weren’t with me.” He glanced up into Vera’s face.
Her emerald eyes shone back at him with a look of slight confusion, and she chewed on her lower lip in that adorable way that always made him want to both cuddle her and make love to her until she couldn’t see straight, all at the same time.
“What I mean to say is, I realized then that I’m falling in love with you, and I don’t think I could bear it if whatever this is between us ends all because this case is over with. I can’t go back to seeing you in my class, knowing what could have been between us, without at least giving it a shot. It was bad enough before, when I always wondered what it could be like, because I thought you were so beautiful and intriguing and fun and interesting, but now I just don’t think I could stand knowing what I’m missing out on.” He met her gaze again and was surprised to see tears glistening in her gorgeous eyes.
“I’ve made some crappy mistakes in the past few days, but I want to make everything up to you. I want you to come live with me, to give this...give us...a shot. Quit that crummy job at the bar and just focus on finishing school without all the stressors that make you want to go back to black magic. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of you.”
Silent tears poured down Vera’s cheeks. Shane reached up his free hand and brushed one away.
“What about your job?” she asked. “What happened to not being able to date a student?”
Shane shook his head. “Screw my job. We don’t have to broadcast what’s going on behind closed doors to the university. Besides, you’ll only be in my class a few more weeks, and if anyone finds out and I lose my professorship, so be it. I make enough money from the Execution Underground to live. I’d rather lose my teaching career than lose you.”
Vera slid her hand from beneath Shane’s grip and laced her fingers through his. She grinned despite her tears as she said, “I don’t know that I can do all that, Shane. I’m an independent woman. I can’t just have some man taking care of all my bills for me.”
He laughed. “Then consider yourself a live-in caretaker. My grandmother loves you, and tha
t would be more than an even trade.”
Vera shook her head. “I still don’t know, Shane.”
His stomach lurched as he realized what she might be saying. It had never occurred to him that he could feel so strongly for her but maybe she didn’t return those feelings.
“I mean, you say you’re falling in love with me,” Vera continued as she rubbed slow circles on his hand with her thumb, “but I’m already in love with you, so that kind of puts us in two different places.”
The mixture of elation, relief and happiness that washed over Shane at Vera’s words made him feel light as air, as if he might simply float away from his hospital bed on a cloud of contentment. Before she could protest, he pushed through the pain, sat up and placed both hands on the sides of her face. He guided her closer to him until the tips of their noses touched and the warmth of her breath caressed his face, his lips barely an inch from hers.
“I think we can easily remedy that.”
* * * * *
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This is the fourth book for which I’ve written an acknowledgment, and it never gets any easier. There are so many people to thank.
They say it takes a community to raise a child, and as a new mom, I’m coming to realize that old adage is true. The same thing can be said about a novel. It takes a community to support a writer through that journey, no matter how many times they may have completed the process before.
I have also heard the production of a book compared to giving birth, and since I wrote this novel while pregnant, and edited it just after the birth of my son, the process of the book very much followed that trajectory. As such, I would like to thank the following people for their role in the birth of Midnight Hunter:
First and foremost, a huge thank-you to my editor, Leslie Wainger, who has devoted her editorial talent to helping perfect each and every one of the Execution Underground novels. Leslie, you are a true gem, and I’ve enjoyed every moment we’ve worked together. Thank you for being so thorough, and for always dotting my i’s and crossing my t’s.
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