Blood Hunt (30 page)

Hacksaw found the address of Hope’s photography studio. The master’s presence inside his mind propelled him forward, burning inside him as a punishment for his failure.

He’d lost the master’s woman. The bloodsucker who guarded her still lived.

But the night was young and the master’s hold on Hacksaw was strong. His guidance would lead him to victory, so Hacksaw didn’t even try to fight it. Not that it would do any good if he had.

A bell tinkled as he walked into the posh studio. Ornately framed portraits lined the walls. Beyond a doorway curtained in heavy, fringed fabric, he heard the sound of a woman singing.

Hacksaw parted the curtain with a dirty hand and slipped silently inside.

The woman wasn’t Hope. Disappointment filled him for a moment as he watched her. She was wearing headphones, singing along with a tune that made her bounce in time with the music. She was pretty. Clean. He’d seen women like this come into the master’s domain and fall at his feet.

None of them were clean when they died, but the master didn’t seem to mind. So long as they were obedient.

The woman hadn’t noticed his presence. She was busy doing something with her hands—something that involved a razor blade.

The master’s voice echoed in Hacksaw’s head, blocking out all other thoughts. He didn’t know what he’d want with her, but it didn’t matter. What the master wanted, he got.

Hacksaw slipped around behind her. She didn’t see him coming. He clamped a dirty hand over her nose and mouth, blocking off her air.

She yelped in shock and kicked back at him while her fingers pried at his. But Hacksaw was strong. He didn’t let go. Not even when she slashed at him with that razor blade, drawing blood—both his and hers.

Dark red and bright red drops splattered out across the picture of a chubby toddler.

His blood was so much darker than hers. He didn’t know why that was.

The master’s presence in his mind reassured him there was nothing to worry about. All was as it was supposed to be.

Hacksaw took comfort in that as he suffocated the small woman.

Her struggle slowed and finally stopped as she lost consciousness. Hacksaw didn’t know how long he’d have before she woke, but his car was parked right outside and his trunk was ready for her body.

The master was going to be so pleased.

 

Logan smelled blood. Familiar blood.

He bolted from Hope’s room and sprinted down the stairs to the studio below. She was right on his heels.

“What’s going on?” she demanded, her voice raised an octave in fear.

“Get dressed. Fast.”

He didn’t wait to see if she complied. He stepped into the hallway and pulled in a deep breath through his nose, smelling human blood. Tainted blood. The blood of the man who’d tried to steal Hope.

Beneath that scent was a cleaner one. The blood of a human with no taint. She was blooded, but not heavily. The sour stench of her fear still lingered in the air.

Logan followed his nose to the studio’s workshop. Hope was only seconds behind him.

On a large, sturdy workbench was a child’s portrait spattered with blood—both light and dark.

“Jodi,” said Hope, the name filled with devastation. “Where’s Jodi?”

Logan followed the drops of blood out the front door and onto the sidewalk. Several congregated in a cluster at the end of an empty parking slot. He’d put her in the trunk. Just like he had done to Hope.

Her hand clenched his arm. She was weaving on her feet, and despite the emergency that faced them, Hope was his primary concern.

The Dorjan knew where she lived. He’d taken her roommate as leverage. Logan had to get Hope out of here. Now.

He reached around her waist and steadied her. “I’m going to find her.”

“She’s gone. Jodi’s gone. It’s my fault, isn’t it?”

“No. You are not responsible for the choices of others.”

Logan retrieved his cell phone and dialed Nicholas. “I need your assistance.”

“Where?” asked Nicholas.

It wasn’t safe to stay here, but he had no vehicle. It had been ruined by the Warden. “The coffee shop down the street from Hope’s studio. As soon as you can.”

“I’m nearby. It won’t be long.”

“And can you request a team of Gerai to tow my van? We ran into some difficulties and I don’t want my license plate drawing any unwanted police attention.” It was something he should have thought to do before, but he’d been too swept up in Hope and the shared pleasure of her dream.

“No problem,” said Nicholas. “The tracker in it will give them the location.”

“Thank you.”

Logan hung up and swept Hope back inside. He kept a hold on her, making sure she didn’t topple over. She was swaying on her feet, moving along wherever he led without question.

She was in shock. A lot had happened tonight, and she was likely weak from the remnants of her injuries as well as feeding him. It was no wonder that she needed some time to process the situation.

He found a coat in her closet and eased it over her arms. A knit scarf went around her neck and he pulled her hood up to ward off the cold.

Her eyes were wide and shining with tears. Her mouth was tight with worry. “Is he going to hurt her?”

“No,” he lied.

Logan’s heart ached for her and for her friend, who was no doubt terrified. If she was still alive.

He had to believe she was. Not much blood had been spilled, and what good was Jodi if she couldn’t be used as a lever to pry Hope out into the open? She’d be of no use to them dead.

He kept his tone gentle as he pulled her to her feet. “We’re going to go meet Nicholas now. We’ll figure out where Jodi went and we’ll find her.”

“It was the same man who tried to take me, wasn’t it?”

“That is my belief.” He pushed through the front doors of her studio, not bothering to lock them.

“He’s going to use her as bait, isn’t he?” asked Hope.

She was smart, and now that the shock was wearing off, her mind was working and she had arrived at the same conclusion he had. He only wished it had taken her a bit longer—that they would have been closer to rescuing Jodi before her head had cleared. The fog of shock was much easier to tolerate than stark reality.

“That’s good news,” he assured her. “If they intend to use her in that manner, they’ll keep her alive.”

Hope’s knees buckled and he tightened his hold, pressing her against his body to steady her. The slight tremors shaking her frame were easy to feel, even through their winter clothing. “They can’t kill her.”

“We’ll find her, Hope. You hold on to that and all will be well. I promise.”

As the weight of his vow fell on him, he realized his mistake. He should never have promised her such a thing. It was not in his power to give. But it was too late now.

He hurried her down the sidewalk, ignoring the curious stares of the few people they passed. He opened the door of the coffee shop and was immediately blasted by the smells of ground beans, cinnamon, and cocoa. His eyes watered from the intensity, but he managed to ignore it.

Logan settled Hope at the table nearest the counter and ordered her hot chocolate. It was done by the time he’d paid. He added extra sugar and used ice to cool it down. When the temperature no longer burned his mouth, he wrapped Hope’s fingers around the paper cup and said, “Drink.”

The wisp of compulsion he used was slight, but he wanted no argument. She needed sustenance and fluids.

She also needed to be behind the locked gates at Dabyr. That was clear now. The Synestryn who’d infected the Dorjan wanted her for some reason. It hardly mattered why. What did matter was that the demon was not likely to stop until he got what he wanted.

Logan would die before he let that happen.

Nicholas strode into the coffee shop, his scarred face grim. His black leather jacket clung to his wide shoulders. His hair was mussed from the wind and his cheeks were red from cold. The woman behind the counter gave him an uneasy look before she moved to the phone on the wall. If Nicholas noticed her mistrust, he gave no outward sign.

“What’s up?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“Not here. Where are you parked?”

“Double-parked. I didn’t want to wait for a spot.”

Logan reached to help Hope from her chair, but stopped at the last moment, pulling himself back. Touching her was not his right, and the more he did so, the harder it became to remember that.

He looked at Nicholas. “She’s weak. Shaken.”

Nicholas nodded and wrapped his big hand around her arm to lift her from her chair. His thick arm came around her waist, making Logan grit his teeth against a jealous cry of outrage.

He averted his eyes and Nicholas helped her into the backseat of his SUV and buckled her in. “Don’t you worry, Hope. We’re going to take good care of you.”

She looked up at Nicholas, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “They took Jodi. They couldn’t get me so they took Jodi.”

Nicholas stroked her hair to soothe her. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Logan had to unclench his fists before he could open the car door. Possessiveness was going to get him nowhere. Worse, it could exacerbate their troubles immensely. He had to stay logical and focused.

They drove away and Logan wasted no time filling Nicholas in on what had passed. The Theronai assessed the situation quickly. “We need to find Jodi before it’s too late. We’ll take her back by force and kill the demons who took her. But first we need to get Hope to Dabyr.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” said Hope, her voice resonant with determination. “Jodi’s my friend. She’s in this mess because of me. I’m going with you.”

“You’ll only slow us down,” said Nicholas.

“The longer we wait, the farther away they’ll get. Logan can track them now, like he did the man in the warehouse.”

Nicholas shot him a sideways glance. “That true?”

“Yes. But I’d feel better if Hope were at Dabyr.”

“Every second counts.” Hope put her hand on his shoulder. Her finger inadvertently stroked his neck, making his body clench in desire. “Please don’t let her die. Find her. You promised.”

He had. It had been stupid, but he’d made the mistake and now he had to live with it.

Logan eased the window down an inch. He hated letting the cold in to chill Hope, but there was no help for it.

He gathered some power and breathed in through his nose, seeking the scent of blood.

“What are you doing?” asked Nicholas.

“Blood hunting.” His eyes cast a pale glow on the window as he eased himself into a trancelike state.

Minute particles of power wove through the air, creating faint, visible streams. Those particles seemed to be drawn to Nicholas. They bombarded him, adding to his already vast stores of energy—energy that was slowly killing him.

Logan sifted through the streams, searching for the ones that matched the scent of Jodi’s blood or the Dorjan who’d taken her. He caught a slight glimpse and forced his mouth to move. “Turn right.”

Their direction shifted and two delicate strands of power came into view. He breathed in deeply, testing them to see if they were the ones he sought.

The match was true. Both Jodi and the Dorjan had gone this way. He had their trail now and it was only a matter of time before he caught them.

 

Hacksaw heard the master’s voice in his head, booming like a loudspeaker. He swerved off the side of the road, nearly hitting a mile marker.

“What do I do?”

Hacksaw didn’t dare question the master. He didn’t understand why the master wouldn’t want the glory of slaying a Sanguinar himself, but it was not his place to talk back. Instead, he exited the highway and went down a quiet country road.

A few miles down was a turnoff on a hill that would give him an excellent view of the top. He got his machine gun from the backseat.

As soon as he saw the vampire, he’d blow him away and take his corpse back to the master as a treat for his pets.

Chapter 21

K
rag split his attention between what Hacksaw was doing as well as the scene playing out before him. Two of his women had disagreed, and they were now rolling around on the floor, trying to kill each other.

He didn’t know who’d win. He didn’t even care. The sport was enough of an amusement that he’d see what he could do to enhance the experience in the future.

The brunette grabbed a chair and smashed it into the blonde’s head. She stumbled back, arms flailing. When she fell, she landed wrong and something in her neck snapped.

She wasn’t dead yet, but she soon would be.

He briefly considered draining her blood himself, but he preferred his meals to have a little more life in them. The blonde was of no use to him now.

He turned to the woman who’d bested her. “We eat what we kill around here.”

The brunette’s face paled as she realized what he was demanding of her. “I will feed her to your loyal servants.”

“No. You will drink her blood and then I will feed you to them.” He sent a compulsion to her, forcing her obedience. “Now.”

The woman sobbed as she bent over the blonde. Krag watched her struggle with her human nature for a moment before it became boring.

He closed his eyes and reached out to Hacksaw. The man was good with a gun, but there was no guarantee it would be enough. He wanted the blooded woman. He was tired of waiting.

Krag sent a mental missive to a pack of Handlers he controlled. Touching their minds made him break out into a sweat, but he’d managed to give them his orders. Their excitement to be of service was unsettling in its enthusiasm. At least he knew they’d be thorough and his orders had been clear: Find anyone associated with the blooded woman and burn them alive. Once she had no place to go, flushing her out of hiding would be much easier.