Deadly Pursuit (A Blood Hunter Novel, #2) (29 page)

Deke
had
set
him
up.

He
glanced
at
the
vampire
and
nodded
to
Deke.
“You
want
him?”

Rico
shook
his
head.
“Shit
no—I’m
full.”

Deke’s
eyes
wide
with
fear.
“Jon—”

Jon
flexed
his
claws
and
moved
quickly,
ripping
out
Deke’s
throat.
Deke
collapsed
over
the
desk,
and
Jon
shifted
his
hand
back,
wiping
it
clean
against
Deke’s
shirt.

“Messy,”
Rico
murmured.

“But
effective.
Let’s
get
out
of
here.”

…

They’d
all
gone
and
left
her.
Except
for
the
Trog,
and
as
usual
he
was
down
in
the
engine
rooms.
Alex
had
no
desire
to
join
him.
She
wanted
to
be
out
in
the
city,
seeing
the
sights.
Instead,
she
moped
around
the
ship,
with
Mogg
dogging
her
heels.
Normally,
the
cat
was
confined
to
Alex’s
cabin,
so
he
was
relishing
his
unexpected
freedom.

Alex
let
him
explore
but
followed
closely
and
eventually
found
herself
down
in
the
docking
bay.
The
exit
was
closed,
but
as
she
stood
watching
Mogg
chase
imaginary
rodents,
the
green
light
flashed,
and
it
slid
open.
Trog
must
be
checking
the
systems.

Alex
peered
out
into
the
dark
cavern
beyond.
Her
feet
itched
with
the
need
to
explore,
but
Rico’s
warnings
rang
in
her
mind.
An
image
of
the
vampire,
Bastion,
as
he
had
looked
at
her
last
night,
flashed
in
her
head.
So
hungry.
She
told
herself
not
to
be
stupid.
To
stay
put.

But
as
she
turned
away,
Mogg
spotted
something
interesting
on
the
other
side
of
the
opening
and
headed
for
freedom.

“Mogg,”
she
called.

He
ignored
her
and
scampered
toward
the
open
doorway.
Through
it,
Alex
could
see
the
cavernous
chamber,
almost
completely
dark
now.

“Mogg,
come
back!”

But
Mogg
was
determined
to
make
his
escape,
and
he
was
out
before
she
could
catch
up.
Alex
hesitated,
her
eyes
adjusting
to
the
dim
light
as
she
scanned
for
Mogg.

The
red
light
on
the
exit
was
flashing,
indicating
it
was
about
to
close
just
as
she
caught
a
brief
flash
of
movement.
She
took
a
deep
breath
and
ran
outside
onto
the
soft
black
sand.
As
she
stood
peering
into
the
gloom,
the
doors
slid
shut
behind
her
with
an
eerie
finality.

This
place
gave
her
the
shivers;
she
swallowed
the
lump
in
her
throat
and
wrapped
her
arms
around
herself
trying
to
keep
out
the
chill.
Rico
had
told
her
not
to
leave
the
ship.
And
really,
she
hadn’t
meant
to.
But
would
anyone
believe
her?

She
stepped
back,
reached
out,
and
pressed
her
palm
to
the
panel.
Nothing
happened.
Leaning
in
close,
she
spoke
into
the
comm
unit,
but
the
systems
must
have
been
knocked
out
and
nothing
was
responding.
She
tried
the
manual
switch
but
the
door
remained
stubbornly
closed.
No
problem.
She’d
get
Mogg,
and
they’d
sit
together
until
the
systems
came
back
online.

Nothing
was
going
to
happen.

Peering
into
the
gloom,
she
searched
for
the
cat,
but
with
his
black
coat,
he
blended
with
the
walls
and
floor.
Finally,
she
caught
the
flash
of
his
eyes—just
as
he
disappeared
down
one
of
the
dark
tunnels.

“Mogg,
no.”

Alex
stood
for
a
moment,
unsure
what
to
do.
But
the
tunnel
ran
in
the
opposite
direction
from
the
one
where
Bastion
had
vanished
only
hours
before,
and
Mogg
was
her
friend.
Had
been
her
only
friend
when
she’d
been
lost
in
the
wilds
of
Trakis
Twelve.
No
way
could
she
abandon
him
now.

She
hurried
after
him,
the
sand
muffling
her
footsteps.
Pausing
at
the
entrance
to
the
tunnel,
she
couldn’t
make
her
feet
move
forward.
A
meow
echoed
from
somewhere
far
ahead,
and
she
took
a
deep
breath
and
stepped
inside.

This
place
was
huge.
What
were
the
chances
of
running
into
the
vampire?
Really
low,
she’d
bet.
All
the
same,
her
hand
strayed
up
and
slipped
inside
her
shirt,
her
fingers
clutching
the
silver
cross.

The
tunnel
meandered
for
what
seemed
like
miles
with
Mogg
always
staying
out
of
reach.
Finally,
it
widened
into
a
large
chamber,
with
a
bed
at
one
end.
The
light
was
brighter
in
here,
a
central
lamp
casting
shadows
around
the
room.
Her
gaze
locked
onto
the
bed
where
a
woman
lay
on
the
white
sheets.
Her
head
hung
over
the
edge
so
her
fall
of
blond
hair
spilled
onto
the
stone
floor.
A
crimson
ribbon
lay
curled
beside
her.
She
was
perfect—apart
from
a
red
wound
at
her
throat.
It
was
the
woman
Bastion
had
offered
to
Rico.
And
she
was
dead.

Alex
swallowed
and
tried
to
control
the
shiver
of
fear
that
rippled
across
her
skin.
She
needed
to
get
out
of
there.

“Are
you
looking
for
me?”

At
the
softly
spoken
question,
she
whirled
around.
Bastion
emerged
from
the
shadows
at
the
edge
of
the
room,
his
blond
hair
glowing
pale
against
the
dark
walls.

Alex
froze
in
place,
her
muscles
locked
solid.

The
deep
blue
of
his
eyes
threatened
to
mesmerize
her,
and
she
shook
her
head,
trying
to
clear
the
haze
from
her
mind.
She
took
a
slow
step
back,
and
a
smile
played
across
his
face.

“Don’t
run
away.
I
won’t
hurt
you…much.”

Fumbling,
her
fingers
refused
to
obey
her,
but
finally
she
managed
to
pull
the
cross
from
beneath
her
shirt.

His
eyes
narrowed
slightly,
but
there
was
no
other
reaction.
No
running
away…and
her
last
hope
fled.
She
was
going
to
die
here.
Before
she
had
even
lived.
Briefly,
the
idea
of
praying
crossed
her
mind,
but
she
dismissed
it.
Why
would
God
answer
her
now
when
he’d
been
silent
her
entire
life?

Bastion’s
eyes
trapped
hers
once
more.
“Take
it
off.”

Her
mind
screamed
in
denial
even
while
her
hands
lifted
the
chain
over
her
head.
She
wanted
to
clench
it
tight,
but
her
fingers
opened,
and
the
cross
fell
to
the
floor.
Bastion
laughed
softly
as
he
stepped
closer,
and
Alex
shuffled
back
until
she
came
up
against
the
cold
stone
of
the
wall.

His
hand
gripped
her
shoulder
and
pulled
her
upright,
so
for
a
moment
she
hung
from
his
fist.
One
finger
glided
over
her
cheek,
and
needles
of
ice
prickled
her
skin.

The
finger
trailed
over
her
throat,
lingering
on
the
pulse
point
before
moving
lower
to
hook
into
the
neck
of
her
shirt
then
rip
the
fabric
to
her
waist.

She
bit
back
the
small
scream,
determined
not
to
beg.
Besides,
she
knew
instinctively
it
would
do
no
good.
All
she
could
hope
was
the
pain
wouldn’t
be
too
bad
and
she
could
go
with
some
dignity.

“Pretty,”
he
murmured.
His
hand
cupped
her
breast,
where
no
man
had
ever
touched
her
before.
She
didn’t
want
to
respond,
but
jolts
of
sensation
raced
down
to
her
belly
and
settled
between
her
legs.
Her
nipple
hardened
under
his
touch,
then
he
pinched
it
between
his
finger
and
thumb
and
pain
shot
through
her.

He
lowered
his
head
and
kissed
her
there.
She
looked
down
at
the
blond
head
against
her
breast
and
wanted
to
cry.
Bastion
scraped
a
fang
down
over
the
creamy
flesh
and
a
trail
of
blood
welled
up.
He
lapped
at
it
with
his
tongue,
and
his
eyes
changed
from
blue
to
crimson.

She
struggled,
and
he
laughed
again.

“Go
ahead,”
he
murmured.
“I
don’t
like
them
too
docile.”

Subduing
her
with
ease,
he
spun
her
around,
and
slammed
her
face-first
into
the
stone
wall,
pressing
his
icy
cold
body
against
her
back.

He
leaned
in
close
and
kissed
the
back
of
her
neck.
“Please
me,”
he
murmured
against
her
ear,
“and
I
may
keep
you
alive
for
a
while.
Would
you
like
to
live?”

Not
at
any
price,
she
realized.
Besides,
she
didn’t
know
how
to
please
him.
She
didn’t
know
how
to
please
anyone.

He
positioned
her
as
though
she
was
a
rag
doll,
tugging
her
head
to
the
side
with
a
hand
in
her
hair.
His
other
hand
reached
around
to
squeeze
her
breast,
slick
now
with
blood—the
fingers
digging
in
cruelly
so
she
couldn’t
prevent
the
scream
from
rising
up
in
her
throat.