Sneaky bastard!
My fangs punched out, and I lunged for the man’s bloody neck.
He recoiled, shoving me back. “Holy Christ! What the hellisthat?”
Cuffs clicked around my wrists. “We could have done this the easy way,” the guy on the right said, bearing his weight down on me.
The closer my head got to the other man’s leg, the more I tried to reach to bite him. He all but stood up on his seat, climbing over me to the other side of the cramped cab.
“Scoot over!” he barked at his friend.
He shoved me against the left door, leaving me in an awkward position, my arms bound.
They unzipped my duffel bag, and he said, “Hold her down.”
When the big guy put his weight across my hips, holding my head against the door with his hand, I thrashed beneath him like a feral animal. My hips screamed in pain, and something felt ready to snap.
They tied a strip of fabric around my head so that it went between my teeth. Two of my sharpest weapons snagged in the tight weave of a red T-shirt. I could have fought, but what was the point? I’d spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, and I had no one to protect me. I had to look at this as an opportunity I might never have again—to face the man who wanted me dead.
Beneath the one guy’s crushing weight, the lack of oxygen made me light-headed. I should have never assumed the men had accidentally gotten into the cab. That was my human nature still kicking and alive. Humans rationalized dangerous situations, afraid to react when it might be a misunderstanding.
And now two hundred and fifty pounds of misunderstanding was squeezing the life out of me in the backseat of a taxicab.
* * *
Christian enteredthe interior balcony that overlooked Keystone. A heavy mist thickened the air, and had there been a hint of sunshine, he was certain a rainbow would have appeared. He placed his forearms on the stone railing and leaned forward, his gaze chasing a wild rabbit that was scurrying across the lawn. It wasn’t common to see them out in the daytime since they burrowed low to hide from the hawks.
Maybe the rabbit saw him and recognized Christian for what he was: a predator. A dark soul with black eyes and the instincts of a hunter.
Killing was a Vampire’s nature—a melody in their blood they could either dance to or ignore. In the early years, Vampires needed that coping mechanism for survival, removing the remorse they would inevitably feel after draining their victims. But this was no longer the Middle Ages; Vampires had long since become civilized in terms of controlling their blood addiction. A youngling’s first years were the most difficult, so their maker needed patience to guide them through the bloodlust. A Vampire occasionally drank blood to uncover information about people, so it was imperative that they learn to control their urges.
Raven reminded him a lot of himself in the early years. His maker had tried to temper his anger, but Christian was bitter from the mistreatment he’d endured in his human life. The land of opportunity had turned out to be a cesspool filled with poverty and greed. America attracted aristocrats who saw an opportunity to elevate themselves by ensuring the lower class stayed right where they were. Had his maker not been a patient man, there was no telling where Christian would be now.
His thoughts drifted to Raven. A rogue stood no chance at long-term survival, and those that did were the men Keystone hunted.
“What are you doing out here?” Blue asked.
Christian nodded, his gaze fixed on a white cat who seemed to be searching for the rabbit.
Blue leaned on the railing to his left, her hair pulled up in a messy bun. “It’s a little warmer today. I think the sun’s angry at the clouds.”
“They can keep bickering for all I care,” he said. Christian’s pupils were fully dilated, which made his eyes permanently black. Over the years, he’d learned to endure the discomfort of bright lights, so sunglasses and cloudy days were a godsend.
“Today’s her last day,” she continued. “I wonder if Viktor’s having regrets about granting her a favor like this. Someday we might be hunting her, but here we are, showing her the best way to kill us.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Raven only hunts criminals.”
Blue swiped a loose strand of hair away from her face. “I’ve never met a rogue with principles. Have you? Time and experience will wear her down. At least she won’t remember us after you scrub her memory, but what if you miss something and she starts to remember? Maybe you should just clear it all to be on the safe side. The last thing we need is another enemy.”
“Aye,” he said, recollecting his promise to Raven. A promise that could one day unravel Keystone.
Blue turned around and pushed herself up so she was sitting on the ledge, facing away from the property. “You’re moody today. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve spent all week on the first floor, probably eavesdropping on Niko and Raven. Am I right? But not today. Instead, you’re up here brooding. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she grew on you a little.”
“Ah, shut your beak.” He turned his head and gave her a crooked smile. “It’s only been a fortnight since the little tornado swept into our lives, leaving a path of destruction. The sooner she moves on, the better. And don’t think you can rile me up, lass. Women just love to insinuate.” Christian stood up and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Viktor made a mistake thinking he could dust her off and make her shiny as new.”
Blue crossed her feet at the ankles, her eyes drawn upward. “Isn’t that how he found all of us?”
“He’s got a good thing here now. He shouldn’t worry so much about bringing in new blood. Seven is a magical number. The seven wonders, seven samurai…”
