Page 3 of Caretaker

Jerk.

Of course, that made me want him even more—but I wasn’t telling him that.

Shane took my arm—one of those tantalizing casual touches—drawing the master’s suddenly icy stare.

Then Amias rolled his eyes up to look at Shane, and the air became thick and heavy with tension as the two men watched each other.

They might have stood there all night, waiting for the other to flinch, if a dozen infecteds hadn’t chosen that moment to show themselves. They raced toward us, starving, too desperate to care that they were no match for two hunters, a killing sword, and a master. Their cries made my stomach tighten with pity even as I drew Silverlight and ran to meet them.

I hated vampires, but I hated torment even more. Even theirs. I swung Silverlight through the air, a hunter’s joy singing through my veins, and took them out of their misery for good.

The attacks were infrequent now that so many vampires had been wiped out by the disease. Mostly Shane and I hunted for ones that had fallen down and ‘died’ so we could keep them from coming back.

The vampires had been annihilated.

At least most of them had. I glanced at Amias as the vampires on the ground began to disappear. They left sad, ragged piles of clothing behind, and he stared down at them, his shoulders slumped.

He looked up and caught me watching him. “I feel your despair,” he said.

“She needs to shake it off.” Shane slung the strap of his shotgun over his shoulder, then crossed his arms and stared down his nose at me.

“Angus is in hell,” I snapped. “I’m going to be a little sad.”

Amias took a quick step toward me, his hand out, and Shane’s blade appeared suddenly in his hand as he bumped me to the side and stood in front of me.

“Shane,” I said, surprised. “What are you doing?”

“Fuck.” He ran his hand over his face, then sheathed his blade. When he finally looked at me, his eyes were narrow and his frown was dark. As though his kneejerk impulse to protect me was somehow my fault.

As I watched him, mystified, he gave me one last scowl then turned and jogged away. I didn’t try to stop him.

“He’s been so strange lately,” I murmured, as he disappeared into the night.

Amias shrugged. “He fights it, but it will not matter in the end.”

I frowned. “Fights what? The need to give a shit?”

But he was no longer interested in discussing Shane. “I must eat, Trinity.”

“You’re not eating me.”

“You will force me to take what I need.” He said it so softly, so politely, that it took me a minute to hear the threat in his words.

I backed up and drew Silverlight, but though she lit up the night and prepared to end the vampire, the pain did not rip through me.

Those days were gone, and I was sad to see them go. I no longer wanted to hurt Amias Sato. I’d gone through many changes over the last few years, and accepting the master was maybe the worst one. I hadn’t even realized it completely, but there it was.

I squeezed Silverlight. “I may not feel the rage, and I may not want to hurt you, but I will defend myself.”

He shrugged. “And you will receive only pain for your efforts. You cannot kill me, Trinity.”

“So? I can deprive you of your manly parts. That’d smart a bit, wouldn’t it? Maybe take your mind off your hunger?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I wish you weren’t quite so difficult.”

“And I wish I’d never met you.”

A flash of real pain, there and gone, streaked through his eyes. “I wish that as well, my love.”

I sheathed my sword, then turned to go, but his words stopped me before I’d gotten more than a few steps.

“What would you do for the release of your werebull?”

I clutched my stomach as it tightened, and my voice was strained when I replied. “I would do anything.”

“Would you feed me?”

I hesitated. “Yes,” I whispered. “Amias, can you—”

But the vampire fled and left me staring into empty shadows, wondering if it were possible. Could he free Angus?

And if the answer to that was yes, then I’d just willingly sold myself to the master.