Deadly Pursuit (A Blood Hunter Novel, #2) (9 page)

Alex
couldn’t
believe
Skylar
was
so
calm,
and
it
didn’t
look
as
though
the
captain
was
going
to
be
any
help
either.
Tannis
had
already
moved
back
and
was
leaning
against
the
wall,
an
expression
of
anticipation
on
her
face.

Alex
tugged
on
Skylar’s
arm.
“Stop
him,
Skylar.”

“Who?
Rico
or
the
werewolf?
They
look
pretty
well
matched
to
me.
Besides,
I
don’t
think
either
of
them
are
willing
to
listen
to
reason
right
now.”
She
breathed
in.
“Can’t
you
smell
the
testosterone
in
here?”

They
were
all
crazy.

Jon
took
a
step
closer.
His
eyes
were
changing,
glowing
amber.
Feral.

…

The
adrenaline
coursed
through
Jon’s
veins.

After
Al
had
left,
he’d
gotten
bored
of
waiting
in
his
cabin
and
finally
ventured
out
in
search
of
food.
Also,
he
wanted
to
know
how
soon
he
could
get
off
this
stinking
ship.

But
once
out
of
the
cabin
he
had
to
admit
he
was
impressed
with
the
vessel.
She
was
a
Mark
3
Cruiser
but
obviously
extensively
customized.
The
black
and
silver
decor
gleamed.
The
air
was
fresh—no
stinting
with
the
recycling,
but
beneath
the
freshness
he
caught
the
scent
of
death.
As
he’d
followed
his
nose
deeper
into
the
ship,
the
stench
grew
stronger.
Finally
he’d
arrived
at
the
bridge,
and
even
though
he’d
guessed
what
he
would
find,
shock
had
held
him
immobile.

Vampire.

It
had
been
decades
since
he’d
even
heard
mention
of
them.
He’d
believed,
and
hoped,
that
they’d
all
died
out.

Maybe
this
was
what
he
needed
to
clear
the
last
lingering
effects
of
the
cryo.
What
would
be
ideal
is
if
he
could
shift
and
go
for
a
long
hard
run,
but
that
was
hardly
going
to
happen.
So
a
fight
would
be
the
next
best
thing.

And
if
the
vampire
killed
him,
his
problems
would
be
over.
He
wasn’t
afraid
to
die.
On
the
other
hand,
he’d
fought
vamps
before
and
survived;
no
doubt,
he
could
do
it
again.
They
were
almost
impossible
to
kill,
especially
without
the
proper
weapons,
but
you
could
hurt
them,
make
them
bleed.
Vampires
and
werewolves
were
natural
enemies—both
predators
and
both
territorial—they
didn’t
like
sharing
their
prey.
And
vampires
had
a
taste
for
were
blood.

His
fists
clenched
at
his
side.
No
way
was
this
blood-sucking
monster
feeding
on
him.
It
occurred
to
him
fleetingly
that
if
he
seriously
damaged
the
vampire,
his
welcome
on
the
ship
was
probably
over
and
he’d
be
out
the
airlock
without
a
spacesuit.

His
attention
had
been
on
the
vampire,
but
for
the
first
time
he
took
in
the
other
occupants
of
the
room.

The
“boy”
Al
was
no
threat.
Now
he
knew
she
was
a
girl,
she
appeared
different—quite
striking
with
her
red
hair,
pale and
creamy
skin,
and
huge
gray
eyes.
Not
that
he
was
interested.
Her
gaze
caught
his,
and
she
glanced
away
quickly.
He
moved
on
to
the
two
women.
They
were
armed
with
laser
pistols,
and
both
looked
more
than
ready
to
use
them,
their
hands
resting
lightly
on
the
grips.

One,
with
her
eerie
violet
eyes,
was
obviously
Collective.
His
“sister”
he
presumed.
Was
no
one
on
this
ship
who
they
said
they
were?
He’d
have
to
remember
to
thank
her
later,
and
then
find
out
why
the
fuck
she
had
lied
and
busted
him
out
of
prison.
Not
that
he
wasn’t
grateful.
Anything
was
better
than
the
Meridian
mines
and
a
slow,
painful
death
from
radiation
poisoning,
which
was
where
most
prisoners
ended
up.

The
other
woman
was
a
GM.
The
effects
of
genetic
engineering
clear
in
her
sinuous
body
and
cold
yellow
eyes.
He
idly
wondered
if
she
had
a
forked
tongue.

He
turned
back
to
the
vampire
who
appeared
relaxed,
his
lean
body
loose,
but
Jon
sensed
the
coiled
tension
and
the
eagerness
in
his
gleaming
dark
eyes.
The
guy
was
big,
but
not
as
big
as
Jon,
and
the
bloodsucker
was
unarmed.
Well,
except
for
the
fangs.
A
vamp
had
bitten
Jon
once,
and
he
wasn’t
about
to
let
it
happen
again.
Not
that
he
could
be
turned—werewolves
were
immune
to
that
particular
side
effect—but
it
had
hurt
like
hell.