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Hardly ever. Vamps didn’t explode in the sunlight. That was just some BS myth Hollywood had invented. Good old Bram had been right when he’d said that vampires could walk in the daylight. They were just weaker in the hours of light—human weak. Dee had always figured Bram must’ve had the inside track on the vamps.
As for using guns . . . why shoot your prey? For vampires, that was just a waste of good blood. Dee swallowed. “Why would vamps send humans after me?”
“After us.”
Her eyes narrowed. Sweat beaded Simon’s upper brow.
“They know I’m helping you,” he muttered. “Now they’re trying to shut us both down. Not. Gonna. Happen.”
The car jerked a bit. “Simon?”
He shook his head. “All . . . right.” His fingers tightened around the steering wheel, but his eyes began to drift shut.
“No, you’re not.” Her heart slammed into her ribs. “You’re hit, aren’t you?” Don’t touch me now. Gruff and angry. Had to be man slang for I’m hurting. “Stop the car, let me see what?—”
“No! Won’t . . . let them . . . take you . . .”
Uh, being all macho and protective was kind of sexy, especially since she was usually the ass-kicking one, but . . .
The car swerved off the road and headed straight for the line of twisted pines.
“Simon!” Dee lunged for the wheel.
Chapter Six
Simon stared at the grim-faced reflection in the broken gas station mirror.
He’d fucked up. Gotten distracted by a sexy smile and curvy body.
He hadn’t been on guard, hadn’t known the attackers were going to hit until it was too late.
Running—his only option. He hated to run.
When the gun had fired, he’d taken the hit. Taken it hard, right in the back. A human would have died.
Good thing he wasn’t a human.
Dee had saved his ass when she taken the wheel. A head-on crash with trees. Never good.
But if he didn’t do something, fast, Dee would be stalking her pretty little ass into the dingy restroom and demanding answers.
She knew he was hurt, but she hadn’t figured out how badly. Not yet.
If he had his way, not ever.
Simon jerked off his shirt, gritting his teeth as the pain knifed into his back. He spun around and craned his neck to see the wound in the mirror.
Dee waited just outside the door. She’d tucked the gun into the back waistband of her jeans and the woman was standing guard. But he doubted he had more than a few minutes time until she burst in to see what the hell had happened to him.
The wound was open. Deep as hell. The bullet had lodged inside. No way could he get it out now. Eventually, he’d find someone to dig it out. He just had to stop the blood loss now.
Because if he didn’t stop bleeding, his ass would be in serious trouble.
Human attackers. That bastard Grim was playing smart. He hadn’t sent his vamps because they would have been weak in the growing sun. But humans—probably puppets desperate for that immortal kiss—had done his dirty work.
And really screwed Simon over.
The door squeaked open. The scent hit him instantly. Cigarettes. Coffee.
