The Hunted

by L. A. Banks

  Centrifugal force sucked the air right out of Damali’s lungs. Her back slammed against the seat. Oh, shit, they were gonna die!

  Sparks flew as the doors of both cars scored each other. They were madmen, trying to run each other off the road at a speed that didn’t even register on the speedometer. Red lights from highway traffic made her nails dig into her palms, waiting for the impact. A tractor trailer’s bumper came right through the windshield, shattering it, making her cover her face and shriek at a decibel she never knew was possible. She was instantly wind; the Chevy reconstructed, bounced hard, spiraled over the highway guardrail side-by-side with the Hummer, eating up expressway, upside down. She shut her eyes, tears flying from the corners of them as she tried to gulp air, her heart rising to her throat, then they were right-side up again, streets blurring by so fast that she couldn’t tell where they were. The front bumper collided with a warehouse wall, crumbled in toward her, briefly trapping her knees, then releasing them, papers flying everywhere as they exited the building whole.

  She almost wet herself as they took out a chain-link fence—it reconstructed behind them—the cars zigzagged, making a space widen between them before the Hummer slammed Carlos’s door again hard. Their car spun, hit a pole that went right through it between their seats, carving the Chevy in half, each part flipping over three times in opposite directions, and then reconnected in a hard snap.

  Sweat poured down her temple, her tears blinding her. Her feet were pressed hard to the floor, applying phantom passenger breaks, her hands covering her face as they whooshed through parked cars, and were heading for a church. They were playing chicken, dragging black smoke down the street toward a sanctuary. Cliffs and beach were behind the building. They’d run out of road. Vampires were on the sidelines, their excited faces blurred by the speed. Final destination, she felt it. That’s when she screamed in earnest. If they hit the church, all magic and illusion was gone. Both males would be smoked, and she’d be a bloodstain.

  It came out on reflex. A shrill, garbled call, “Oh my God!”

  Carlos pulled the Chevy onto two wheels just before the church gate, rolling the Chevy over in a crashing flip that kept skidding on its side beyond the church property gates, sending sparks down the street, momentum carrying them into dirt, onto rocks. An explosion sounded behind them. Shards of stained glass, wood, and brick followed them over the edge of the cliffs, hurling their car down an embankment. Then two arms caught her and set her on her feet.

  “What a fucking rush!”

  She dropped to her knees, could hear people cheering. Carlos was laughing. She could smell a fire. Hear sirens in the distance. She dry-heaved but was so shaken that nothing came up. A pair of strong hands lifted her under her arms. She stared at the jubilant face and slapped it.

  “You’re nuts! Get away from me!” She pulled out of Carlos’s hold, and staggered to a tree and held onto it.

  “Oh, man, Rivera! History again! Daaaayum,” a male voice behind her shouted.

  “You’s one baaad motherfucker, dude. You know humans always freak at the last minute—but you held your concentration through her prayer?” A male vamp pounded Carlos’s fist. “I saw that shit with my own eyes, boss. She screamed the word we don’t say, the other brother cringed, didn’t pull up in time, smoked his ass—went right through the church front door. It was lovely, man. Why don’t you and your lady come back to the club, we’ll treat you righteous, feel me?”

  “Naw, man,” Carlos said, breathing hard, and raking his fingers through his hair. “I need to walk this off.” He bent over and sucked in a huge gulp of air.

  “I can dig it,” another male said. “Give yourself a minute, man. That was some near-extinction type shit, if I ever saw it.” He nodded to the gathering of female vampires on the curb. “We told ’em not to rush you. After a display like that, a brother needed some space. Needed to be able to pick and choose.” Then he winked at Carlos as he stood. “You got ’em in a lather, man. But, uh, this Neteru is off da hook . . . kicking—no disrespect. Contact is in the air like a mug. When she slapped you, man, I thought I was gonna pass out.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Carlos said, chuckling, rubbing his jaw with appreciation. He looked at Damali. “You just don’t know.”

  The other vamp sniffed hard and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “See why you roll like that. So, since we know what you can do, and all the fellas ain’t trying to piss you off, and whatnot . . . uh . . . if you got any lair queens you can spare . . .” He held up his hands in front of his chest. “We asking, you know. Respectful, like. Hoping you might hook a brother up. Ain’t trying to jack your shit without permission, though.”

  Carlos nodded, wiping his nose and still breathing hard. “It’s cool, man. Consider it a gift for me coming back from the ashes. Take ’em all. Do ’em right. Seal my lairs, though, and watch my back. No more bullshit while I’m out in the streets with my woman. And don’t be sweatin’ her, neither, if she’s by herself. That’s all I ask until I figure out how I’ma realign my shit. I’ll let ya’ll know who gets what, later.”

  “That’s most cool, man,” the male closest to him said. “My name is Yonnie. My posse, we never worked for Nuit—we was made earlier, had to lay low for a few. We’re from the old empire, never went rebel. But, shit, man, we got your back.”

  Carlos just nodded and glanced at Damali, hoping she was taking all of this in. She was leaning against a tree as though it were holding her up. Her eyes were closed, her entire body was damp with sweat. She was breathing so fast that she was going to make herself faint. The sight of her like that was intoxicating. He glanced at the grouping of males and smiled.

  “Knock yourselves out,” he said, getting his breath regulated and motioning to the female vamps. “That’s me right there,” he added, pointing toward Damali.

  “We can dig it,” Yonnie said, shaking his head. “We be out.”

  Carlos waited until the coast was clear and all the vampires had left before he approached Damali. She was going to go off, he could feel the hysteria brimming under her skin the closer he got to her.

  “Baby,” he said quietly. But she held up one finger with her eyes still closed and stopped him from saying a word.

  So he stood there in the dark on the edge of the cliffs, looking at her, listening to her pulse, so loud it made his ears ring. Terror, adrenaline, rage, you name it, it was fused with Neteru and it saturated the air. His own adrenaline high was still pumping through him. His dick was so hard there were tears in his eyes.

  He was about to approach her again when she put her hand up and then pointed toward the church. “Fix it, and take me home!”

  Her eyes were filled with gorgeous, glittering fury like he’d never seen before. The sight of her wrath stole his breath.

  “Baby,” he said again, trying to approach her, needing to be near her. “Okay. I’ll fix the church, but then I need to feed. All right?”

  She just nodded and closed her eyes as he walked away from her and repaired the damage as best he could. He couldn’t do a full reconstruction of the building running this low on fuel. Besides, it was hallowed ground and took way too much energy to try to hold it in his mind safely. His concentration was splintered now, anyway. The angrier she got, the hornier he got. Oh, man, he needed to feed. But at least she had been able to see what he’d been trying to tell her about traveling without some controls in place.

  He glanced up toward the hills. “My car is totaled; can’t fix it right now. And, uhmm . . . even though things are pretty cool in the territory, I don’t think it would be wise to leave you here standing by a tree. Some male might just happen by, get a whiff of what you’re trailing, and lose it. Then I’d have to fight without a full tank.”

  She opened her eyes. The color was still drained from her lovely face, and her hand was over her heart. He hadn’t thought about the fact that she could have died of natural causes from something like an aneurysm or a heart attack. Then, again, if she
did, he did have a solution, albeit not a perfect one. He smiled.

  When she balled up her fist, he laughed and backed away from her. “My bad,” he said, laughing harder. “Oh, damn, Damali, that was some crazy shit, girl!”

  He leaned his head back and wiped his face with both palms. “I can’t believe I did that. Whoooo, shit!” But as he stood there and looked at her, the more rage glittered in her eyes, the more he knew he had to go eat. “Let me take you up there with me,” he said, motioning toward the hills as the mirth slipped out of his tone. “I’ma eat, then I’ll take you home.”

  “Fine,” she snapped.

  He nodded, but was thoroughly disappointed. Baby, please don’t leave me hanging. Not tonight.

  “And I will never forgive you if you go back there and pick up one of those hoochies.”

  “No, no, no, you got me all wrong. That was just theater . . . a little drama, baby. I’m cool.”

  She walked up to him and when she slipped her fingers in his pants he shuddered at her touch. She snatched the C-note out of his belt, and flung it in his face. He’d forgotten about it, but her scent almost made him reach out and pull her to him. Hope would do that sorta thing to a brother after a hunt. Even now he had to steel himself against the insistent incoming female vampire calls. They were on fire and lighting up his senses like a Friday night police station switchboard. Red pulses were everywhere in his brain, but there was one . . . one that was so primal, so fantastically alluring that he was almost afraid to even admit it was there. Definitely female, whatever it was. And it definitely was not Damali. It was coming strong from a distance . . . All right. Focus.

  He led Damali to a densely wooded area where he knew deer were plentiful and placed her by a tree. “I’ll be right back. This won’t take long, I promise.”

  She folded her arms and looked up at the moon. He was getting on her nerves so badly, she wanted to scream. It didn’t have to be all this. Truly, it didn’t. This was the most reckless, dangerous, unnecessary . . . Then she froze.

  She watched him walk into the underbrush and disappear, but a long, black velvet tail parted the foliage before it vanished. She took a deep breath. She knew masters and second-generations could shape-shift, but seeing Carlos do it was a whole other story . . . she’d only been teasing when she’d asked him to show her that before. And they were still connected. She could feel the power rushing through him, rushing through her. Oh, no, it had never been like this. Yeah, they’d been hanging pretty tight, but there were areas of his mind that he kept telling her not to wander into. He had a black box around them. This was one of those areas. She knew it the moment his focus wavered. Sometimes it even gave him pause. His blood lust side.

  Suddenly she heard branches snapping, a low growl that cut through the night and made the crickets stop singing. She heard a hard thud. He’d brought something big down fast. The desire that ran through him made the hair stand up on her arms. Then she felt it. All the adrenaline, energy, everything that had been coursing through him before, during, and after the race. Yeah, he’d taken her to a safe private glen a few times to make love, and had left her side to go discreetly feed himself from deer. But she’d never experienced the quiet terror of the woods like this, never connected to the lurking predatory power within it. Never understood the true danger hidden in the underbrush.

  She glanced around, and felt for her blade. Tonight she needed it. He was on a mission. She’d definitely been playing when she’d asked him to shape-shift. Pure curiosity Hadn’t understood what that meant. And the moment she thought it, two golden eyes appeared in the thicket, and she could feel something huge, were-like, stalking her.

  Damali took slow steps, drawing away from the presence until her back hit the tree. But she was forced to hold onto it for support as a rough, catlike tongue licked up her leg, a strong velvet jaw forced them open, and she could feel the rough wetness slide between the crack of her butt, come up her front, opening everything in its wake, then taste her navel, dragging a rough moist trail up her torso.

  Her sphincter muscle twitched and contracted at the delicious invasion, but she tensed. Uh, uh, not the back door, when he was like this. No way. She could feel him probe every orifice on her. But the eyes in the bushes hadn’t moved, so she knew he hadn’t physically touched her. She heard a low constant rumble that sounded oddly like a threatening purr.

  Then just as suddenly, the sensation passed, and Carlos stepped out of the bushes. Carlos, the man, that is. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looked at her with longing, then glanced up at the moon. “I have got to get you home.”

  She wasn’t about to argue with him as he walked toward her, his motions still fluid like the thing he’d temporarily been. His breaths were ragged, his gaze intense. Something was definitely wrong with his vibe. Vampires were smooth; tonight he was . . .

  “Sorry about that,” he murmured. “You smell so fucking good, and . . .” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment. “Like I said,” he whispered, opening his eyes slowly and holding her stunned gaze in the moonlight. “There are some things you do not want me to do.” Then he smiled, fangs coming down without censure. “Unless you want me to?”

  She lifted her skirt and unsheathed baby Isis in response.

  “Please, don’t do that,” he said, his voice a tense plea. He wiped his brow and took a deep breath. “Not while serving a red thong underneath that skirt. Put it away.”

  The shudder that ran through him made her hands shake as she fumbled with the weapon and tried to sheath it. He closed his eyes and walked away from her while she did, but she could feel the blatant desire wafting around her. In all the times they’d been together, she’d never seen him like this. He was so aroused it was turning her on, and yet, she didn’t know why. This was crazy. Curiosity was drugging her, and the lingering urge to mark her own territory was lighting a dangerous fuse within her. She had to know what the female vamps had been talking about. And if there was something they could do for him that she couldn’t . . .

  “What’s the double plunge at V-point?”

  He turned around so fast that she backed up two steps.

  “Don’t ask me that shit right now! Are you crazy?”

  “All right,” she said softly. “Okay.” But the image that slammed into her brain nearly set her on fire. Apparently the double plunge required her to bear fang . . . They were right, she couldn’t accommodate him. And it disturbed her, deeply, that they could do something apparently mindblowing for him. But there was also no way she was going to sit at home and watch TV with Marlene, while he prowled the streets in this state. He wasn’t going to make it through the night without answering a vamp call.

  “Damali, you have to understand that there are some things about my world . . . It won’t mean anything.” Carlos tilted his head as though listening to something in the distance and breathed out slowly. His voice dropped an octave. “It won’t mean what it means when I’m with you. Let me take you home. You don’t want me to take you like this.”

  Furious, she stood tall, pulled out her blade, hiked up her skirt on one side, and cut her thong with it, then let the flimsy red fabric drop to the grass.

  The minute the scrap of material hit the ground, she froze. The Isis blade was not supposed to be used like that, and she knew it. This thing had passed through the twelve major religions and then had come from the Vatican. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. But she was on a mission. No vamp female was calling her man out into the streets over her. She touched the blade with shaky fingers then cast it to the ground.

  She turned away, walked off a few paces, and got down on her hands and knees, then glanced over her shoulder. She could see him trembling where he stood. Knew he’d be on her in seconds. But also knew that tonight, whatever he did, it would be over quick. Ten hard strokes and brother would be done.

  “Go for it,” she told him, her voice low and sure. “Just don’t turn into something that’s gonna scare m
e.”

  He walked over to her slowly, knelt behind her. His palm caressed her exposed cheek, and he groaned before he melted naked against her tense body. He covered her like a hot seal, drawing a hard gasp from her. She braced for impact when he paused at her still-virgin opening, hovered just outside of it, then wrested himself away from it. She released her breath when he sought refuge where he normally entered her. Oh, this man was close to the edge.

  He filled her so hard and so fast that she nearly choked. There was no gentle nuzzle at her neck. He held her by her waist with one arm, and braced himself against the dirt and grass with the other. No foreplay, nothing. No tender words, no whispered endearments. Just deep pants keeping time with his hard strokes, his body hot and sweating, lunging.

  She couldn’t see him. She peeped at his extended arm through squinted eyes to make sure his form hadn’t changed. If he had, she didn’t want to see it—not while he was in her . . . But the size of his forearm was nearly twice what it normally was. Veins were standing up beneath the skin on the back of his hand. It was almost as though he was drawing strength right out of the ground. A steel biceps bulged and released his weight near her shoulder, and what was moving inside of her felt like granite.

  Her arms and legs were trembling as she tried to hold herself up and take his thrusts. Pleasure and pain became one as the width of his shaft stretched her to near-tearing, but the length hit every glorious place that she needed it to, and then some. She dropped her head forward, breathing with his rhythm, and felt the night air thicken around her when her cries blended with the other noises of the forest.

  A long, soulful growl came up from his abdomen with a shudder that made her clutch the earth. The timbre of it was so primal that it shot hunger through every opening she had. It made her throw her head back and dip her spine into a deep sway and release a primal call of her own.

  He threw his head back, and shuddered.

  “Oh, shit, girl . . .”

  His voice was deep and hoarse, and he was almost lifting her off the ground as his body convulsed with repeated spasms. The siphon strike at her neck was so powerful that it flattened her instantly, slamming her breastbone to the ground, his knees shoving her legs open wider, his hand at her belly keeping her in rhythm with him without missing a beat. Then his hot face dropped to her back, and she could feel him battling for air as the last of his shudders abated. She was only glad that he’d gone in the right door. Heaven help her if . . .