The Huntress

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by Lisa Childs

Fear chilled her, and she shook her head, already denying the accusation she knew he was about to make.

  “Your sister…” His deep voice cracked as if his anger overwhelmed him. “Your sister killed him.”

  “No! Jennifer’s not a killer.”

  “Maybe she wasn’t before he turned her. But when she became a vampire, she became a killer. They all are.” McKiernan stepped closer to her, and his eerily pale blue eyes glinted like ice in the darkness. “That’s why you should have killed him when you had the chance, Eve.”

  “Then I would have become a killer, too.” No wonder the society worried about humans learning of their secret. Some humans were too quick to destroy what they feared. But Liam McKiernan didn’t fear the vampires; he hated them. He hated her sister most of all.

  Fearful for Jennifer’s safety, Eve glanced around the alley. She’d wanted to see her sister again; now she hoped Jennifer kept the promise she’d made to Andre and stayed away.

  “I don’t want to be a killer,” she said, “and neither do you.”

  “You don’t know me,” Liam said.

  “Because you lied to me,” she pointed out. “You told me my sister was dead.”

  “She will be,” Liam ruthlessly promised, “as soon as she shows up here.”

  “She won’t.” At least Eve hoped like hell Jennifer wouldn’t.

  “Then that’s too bad for you,” he said, his deep voice dropping to an even lower, ominous threat.

  Eve shivered again. “Why’s that?”

  “Because if she doesn’t, you won’t get another chance to see your sister.”

  “You can’t hurt her.” Jennifer had been through too much during her life, had given up too much to stay alive, for it all to end over a lie. “She wouldn’t have hurt your brother. She wouldn’t have…”

  “You don’t know her,” Liam said. “You were just a kid when she took off on you. You glamorized who she was, made her a fairy princess in your head. She wasn’t. She was selfish and heartless.”

  “No!”

  “You should know that better than anyone else,” he insisted. “She wouldn’t have deserted you if she cared about you.”

  “You don’t understand.” And neither had she when Andre had first told her, but it all made sense now. She knew, though, that she wouldn’t be able to convince Liam McKiernan. So all she could do was try to stop him. Her fingers trembling, she reached inside her pocket for the crude weapon Liam had made for her.

  But a strong hand caught her wrist and squeezed until she whimpered and withdrew her hand. “You’re hurting me…”

  Liam bitterly chuckled. “And what did you intend to do to me if I let you take out this gun?” With his free hand he reached into her pocket and pulled out the weapon. “You were going to hurt me.”

  “I just want you to leave me alone,” she explained. “Me and my sister. You’re wrong about everything.”

  “You’re wrong,” he argued, his grasp tightening.

  “Let me go!” She jerked her wrist, trying to twist free. “Let me go. Now.”

  He shook his head. “It’s too late. I can’t let you go—”

  Fear stalled Eve’s pulse then tripped it into overdrive as she realized his intention. He was going to kill her.

  The vampire hunter was going to kill Eve. Andre had worried that one of the society would harm her, and that was why he’d followed her from his apartment back to the alley. But this man, with his red hair glowing like fire and his eyes like ice, had to be the man of whom she’d spoken; Liam McKiernan was the true danger.

  “Let go of her!” Andre shouted, bristling with anger as he stepped from the shadows. Every protective instinct in him rushed over him, making him want to attack the man, making him want to be the killer the vampire hunter claimed he was. But if Andre acted rashly, the man might hurt her.

  Eve gasped in surprise, but the vampire hunter barely reacted, almost as if he’d known Andre was there. If anything, his grip tightened on Eve and on the gun he’d taken from her. The stake, protruding from the barrel, pointed in Andre’s direction, specifically toward his heart.

  Andre didn’t care about his eternal life, though. Because he knew now that it wouldn’t be worth living without Eve in it. In such a short time, she had come to mean more to him than anyone else had in all the centuries he’d lived. “She has nothing to do with this!”

  “You didn’t turn her into a killer like you did her sister?” Liam asked, his rage turning on Andre.

  “Jennifer’s not a killer!” Eve shouted at him, struggling against the madman’s hold.

  Liam jerked her arm, and Eve’s beautiful face twisted into a grimace of pain. Andre jumped forward, but he couldn’t pull her away without risking her more harm—without her slender arm breaking in two if the men fought over her.

  “Let her go,” he ordered again. “You’ve already used her enough.”

  Too many people had done that with Eve; they hadn’t appreciated her, only what she could do for them. Andre’s heart ached with all the pain she’d endured because of how people—including himself—had mistreated her, caring nothing about her feelings.

  “I helped her,” Liam insisted. “I gave her answers that no one—”

  “You gave me lies!” she lashed out.

  “How do you know who’s telling you the truth?” Liam asked her. “Do you think you can trust this…thing?”

  “He has no reason to lie to me,” Eve said, her gaze meeting Andre’s.

  The muscles in his stomach tightened as he read the fear in her eyes. She was scared. And she was putting her trust in him to save her. He couldn’t hurt her again or let anyone else hurt her.

  “He has every reason to lie to you,” Liam said.

  “But I haven’t,” Andre said, his gaze still locked with hers. “You can trust me.” He glanced down, trying to send her a silent message. Some of his family could read minds. It was an ability he’d always envied but never more so than now, when he needed it most.

  But maybe Eve understood because she tipped her head down in a slight nod. Then she dropped, falling to the asphalt, so that Liam lost his grip on her.

  Andre moved, slamming his fist into Liam’s square jaw. The guy was strong, maybe even superhumanly strong, because Liam just stumbled back but he didn’t fall. He didn’t loosen his grip on the gun either; he lifted it instead and pressed it against Andre’s chest.

  He sucked in a breath, and the point of the stake ripped his sweater and scratched the skin beneath. “Eve, get out of here!” he shouted. He didn’t want her to see this, him being killed or being forced to kill.

  “No!” she yelled, vaulting to her feet again. She tried pushing between them, tried shoving them apart and pushing down the gun.

  But Andre wouldn’t move. He’d rather take the stake than have her harmed in the cross fire between them. “Go!” he ordered her. “Please go…”

  Because if he didn’t survive, he wanted her gone—far away and out of the reach of the vampire hunter, who no doubt intended to use her to draw out Jennifer. “Get out of here! Now!”

  “I’m not leaving you,” she argued.

  The strength he’d once admired in her now infuriated the hell out of him.

  “This is all very touching,” Liam said with a short, bitter chuckle. “But nobody’s going anywhere. Not alive.” And he jammed the barrel harder against Andre’s chest.

  “Don’t!” Eve screamed, and she launched herself at Liam, pounding his head and shoulders with her fists.

  He lifted his free hand and slapped at her, knocking her away. Rage surged through Andre, nearly blinding him. His control snapped, and he lashed out, shoving Liam back. This time the man fell. With a groan, he dropped to the asphalt then a curse slipped through his lips.

  Satisfaction eased some of Andre’s anger. But causing the man pain wasn’t enough, not for everything he’d done to Eve. Not for the threat he would pose to her…if he lived.

  Andre swung his fists, connecting wit
h the man’s jaw. Then he reached for his throat, closing his hands around it. As strong as he was, he could crush the human’s windpipe. He could kill him easily. But then the barrel dug into his chest again, scratching his skin.

  Andre wasn’t a killer. But he would kill. To protect Eve. But could he kill Liam McKiernan before the vampire hunter killed him?

  Chapter Five

  “Stop!” Eve screamed, but she just echoed the word another woman shouted.

  Jennifer’s appearance distracted the men, who grappled together on the ground. But Eve flinched as she recognized the clink of metal, as the trigger was pressed. The stake fired. She screamed again: nothing coherent just a primal cry to express the pain tearing her apart.

  Strong hands closed over her shoulders, shaking her gently. “He’s okay. He’s okay,” Jennifer assured her.

  All Eve had wanted for the past twenty years was to see her sister again, to hug her. But she pulled away from the woman and turned to Andre as he lurched to his feet. He held the stake in his hand; he must have caught it as it fired. Just how strong was the vampire? As he squeezed his fist, the specially hardened wood splintered and snapped in two. Then he reached down for Liam, his dark eyes glazed with rage.

  “Stop!” Jennifer repeated. “This isn’t you, Andre. You’re not a killer.”

  “But he is—he’ll hurt her if I let him live,” he said, his voice raspy from his struggle, which Eve suspected was as emotional as it was physical. “She’s already been hurt so much. I can’t let anyone else hurt her. Ever again.”

  He hadn’t spoken the words to her, but he reached Eve as no one else ever had. Love for him flooded and warmed her heart.

  Tears glistened in Jennifer’s green eyes. “I know she has,” she said, her voice cracking. “That’s why you can’t do this. You are the one person she can trust, Andre. Don’t become someone she can’t. Don’t become someone she’ll fear.”

  “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Eve said, feeling like the child she’d once been, the child who’d only existed as a cure, as spare parts. The child who’d never mattered. Until now. Until Andre Vossimer was willing to kill to protect her. “I’m right here.”

  “And you shouldn’t be,” Jennifer said. “You can’t be here.”

  Andre turned away from Liam, who lay on the ground, spotlighted in the beam of the flashlight lying beside him. Blood oozed from his lip and trailed down his chin. Instead of looking at Jennifer, who’d spoken to him, Andre stared at Eve—as if she were the only one in the alley. “You can’t be here,” he agreed with her sister. “You need to leave…”

  She shook her head.

  Jennifer’s fingers dug into her shoulder as she pushed Eve toward Andre. “Take her, Professor. Get her out of here. Take her to safety.”

  “I’m okay,” Eve assured them both. “I’m fine.” And she was—thanks to Andre.

  Jennifer glanced up, toward the lightening sky. “The professor won’t be fine, if he stays here. The rising sun will steal away his strength. He won’t be able to protect you or himself. You need to get him out of here almost as much as you need to leave.”

  Eve shuddered at the danger she hadn’t even considered. To Andre. He had risked his life for her; it was her turn to protect him. She reached for his hand and entwined her fingers with his.

  Andre finally turned toward her sister. “And what about you? I can’t leave you alone with him.”

  Eve glanced down at the man sprawled yet on the ground. His neck bore the red marks of Andre’s fingers, and he gasped for breath. “Come with us,” she beseeched Jennifer. A twinge of guilt squeezed Eve’s heart that her first concern hadn’t been for her sister but for Andre. “You can’t stay here, either, with him.”

  Despite his lies, Eve knew Liam McKiernan and knew that he would stop at nothing to exact his revenge. “Please…”

  Jennifer shook her head. “No. I’m staying.”

  “The sun will hurt you too,” Andre warned Jennifer, “if he doesn’t kill you first.”

  She picked up a piece of the splintered stake. “I’ll be fine. Take care of my sister.” A look passed between her and Andre that raised goose bumps on Eve’s skin.

  She recognized that look as goodbye. But before she could say the word to her sister, Andre whisked her into his arms and then into that lightening sky. He flew faster now, clutching her close to his madly pounding heart. In moments they were back in his apartment, locked underground. Safe and alone.

  “We shouldn’t have left her,” she protested, her stomach churning with nerves and regret. She wrapped her arms around her waist as she stood in the living room—in the exact same spot where she’d stood just a few hours ago.

  “Jennifer’s not the woman you remember.”

  “He’s not right about her,” she defended her sister against Liam’s crazy accusations. “He can’t be…”

  “He’s not,” Andre assured her. But he offered her words only, no physical comfort. He hadn’t touched her since he’d locked the door behind them. “But neither are you right about her. She’s not the sick girl she used to be. She’s strong now. She can take care of herself. She’s not the one I’m worried about right now.”

  “I can take care of myself, too,” she reminded him, with pride. “I’ve been doing it for years. I could have handled Liam.” She had to believe that he wouldn’t have hurt her, that he wasn’t a killer. He was just a man in pain over his brother’s death; she understood that kind of pain too well.

  “Tonight, and Liam McKiernan, was nothing compared to what will happen to you if the society realizes you know the secret,” Andre warned her. “You won’t live long.”

  “I don’t want to live long,” she said.

  He gasped his shock, turning toward her. “What—”

  She closed the distance between them, pressing her body against his. “I want to live forever.”

  His brow furrowed in confusion. “You can’t mean…”

  She nodded in response to the question in his dark eyes. “I want you to turn me into what you are. I want you to make me one of the secret society.”

  This woman would never cease to amaze him. “You’d trust me to do that?” After she’d witnessed him nearly killing a man with his bare hands?

  She nodded. “I trust you.”

  “But you left before because you blamed me,” he reminded her. “For the pain you endured, for Jennifer being out of your life when you needed her most.”

  “I don’t need my sister in my life anymore,” she said.

  He gasped, again, in surprise.

  “I want her in my life,” she clarified. “I want to be her sister again. But I don’t need her.”

  He nodded his understanding. Having been alone as long as she had, she’d become so strong and independent that she no longer needed anyone.

  As if she’d read his mind, she shook her head. “I need you.”

  Her hands tugged his torn sweater up and over his head. Then she pressed gentle kisses against the scratched skin of his chest. Her tongue laved the hurt away…until the pain shifted lower. His erection throbbed and pushed against the fly of his pants.

  Her fingers moved there, smoothing down the zipper to release him. She stroked him with her palm before dropping to her knees, like she had in the alley. Then she’d silently understood what he’d needed her to do, just like now, because her lips slid over the tip of his erection. Her tongue stroked the length of him.

  He tangled his fingers in her soft hair and groaned as she slid her mouth over his shaft. She sucked him deep in her throat. After the fight in the alley, his control was tenuous at best, so he struggled to hang on to it. So that he wouldn’t hurt her.

  But her straight, little teeth nipped at him, scraping his most sensitive flesh. And he spilled into her mouth.

  She swallowed and licked her lips. And drove him even crazier. He lifted her, swinging her over his shoulder and carrying her to the bed where he dropped her so that she bounced lightly
on the mattress. She giggled at his action, but her amusement vanished when he reached for her.

  His hands shaking slightly, he dragged off her sweater and pulled down her skirt. And this time he took off the boots, too, wanting her completely naked. He wanted her completely. And he took her, thoroughly kissing her lips before gliding his mouth down her throat.

  She arched her neck. “Do it,” she urged him. “Turn me.”

  But he pulled back. “Are you sure you want this? Do you understand what you’re giving up? That your life will never be normal again?”

  She nodded. “I don’t want normal. I want you.”

  He chuckled. But he didn’t bite her. He only teased her with his fangs, scraping them down her throat and over her collarbone. He flicked his tongue across one of her nipples. Then he closed his lips around it and tugged.

  She came off the bed. “Now. Take me now.”

  He made love to her with his mouth again, driving his tongue inside her—teasing her with his fangs—until she came. Then he lifted her up and turned her over, so that she lay, stomach-down, on the mattress. And he parted her legs and drove his body into her wet heat. Her muscles clutched at him, pulling him deeper with each thrust, wrapping tighter around him.

  She arched, pushing her back into his chest, her neck into his mouth. And he bit her. With each thrust of his shaft inside her, he sank his fangs a little deeper. And when she came, her orgasm pulsing over him, he drank of the sweet richness of her blood, of her life.

  And he came, filling her as she filled him. Her blood bound the two of them together for eternity. She shuddered and collapsed beneath him. He clutched her close, studying her pale face. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

  Turning a human was risky; more died than survived. And few thrived as her sister had. But Eve was as strong as she’d claimed; he’d witnessed and experienced her strength. He hadn’t thought turning her would hurt her. Or he never would have tried.

  His fingers trembling, he stroked her sweat-damp hair off her brow. What had he done?

  Hungrier than she ever remembered being, Eve awakened. But it wasn’t her stomach growling; she didn’t want food. Her soul was starving instead, for love.

 

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