“Just tell us where he is and we’ll let you go.”
“I don’t know where he is! How many times do I have to tell you? I. Don’t. Know.”
The fair-haired man slapped her across the face, hard, twice.
With a roar, Stefan burst through the window, sending shards of glass flying across the room. “Bryony, go upstairs and lock your door!”
She didn’t argue. She turned and ran up the stairs, but stopped when she reached the landing, her gaze focused on the scene below.
Stefan faced the hunters, a faint smile twitching his lips as he motioned for the fair-haired hunter who had run away at their last encounter to come closer.
As if pulled by the same string, the hunters closed in on Stefan.
Bryony watched in fascinated horror as he fought them off. They darted in like hornets attacking a bear, knives flashing in the light of the hearth fire as they struck out at Stefan.
Heart pounding, she feared they would kill him. But he was moving, too, quick as lightning as he broke one man’s neck, the arm of another. When one of the hunters slashed Stefan’s shoulder, Stefan wrested the blade from the hunter’s hand and drove it into his heart.
Sickened, Bryony pressed a hand to her mouth. She had never witnessed such violence. There was blood splattered onthe wall, the carpets, the couch. The man with the broken arm inched his way out the front door and fled.
And now only the fair-haired man remained.
Stefan stared at him. “Are you going to run away again, you damn, dirty coward?”
The hunter glanced at the door and then at the window Stefan had come through. “Go ahead, vampire,” he said, with a sneer. “Kill me. But that won’t stop the others from coming after you.”
Stefan’s eyes narrowed ominously. “What others?”
“The Guild thinks you may be the last of your kind. They’ve posted a sizeable reward for your head.”
“Too bad you won’t live to collect it,” Stefan snarled.
“Won’t I?” In a burst of courage, the hunter pulled a bottle from his pocket, tore off the cap, and hurled the contents in Stefan’s face. Stefan let out a roar as holy water splashed across his face and down his neck. Darting forward, he sank his fangs into the man’s throat.
It wasn’t until he heard Bryony’s horrified cry that sanity returned.
Keeping his face averted, Stefan retracted his fangs and said, “I told you to go to your room. Now go.”
He heard her footsteps as she ran down the hall, the slam of the door after she entered her bedchamber.
Damn, damn, damn.Of all the rotten luck, why did they have to attack him here?
Filled with impotent rage and the pain of his wounds, he buried his fangs in the hunter’s throat once again. His cuts and bruises would heal overnight. The burns left by the holy water would take a day or two longer.
After cleaning up and disposing of the bodies, Stefan returned to the house. For a moment, he stood at the foot of the stairs, looking up. What was he going to do about Bryony? If hunters could find this place, they could find his other lairs, as well. Selfishly keeping Bryony with him was putting her life in danger. Even worse, tonight she had seen him for what he truly was, and that was something she was not likely to forget.
He could hear her pacing the bedchamber floor. He could easily imagine what she was thinking.Monster.She had known what he was, what he did to survive. But now she had seen him at his most frightening. The thing nightmares were made of.Monster. The more time he spent with her, the harder it was going to be to let her go. Might as well do it now and get it over with.
Taking a deep breath, he made his way to her room and knocked on the door.
It took several long moments before she opened it. She stared at his face, her eyes wide with pity and revulsion when she saw the burns left by the holy water, and he turned away.
“You’re hurt,” she said, a quiver in her voice.
“It is nothing. How did they get into the house?”
“I went out to see Daisy.”
“Did you invite them inside?”
