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Go, baby, go! Get out. Hurry! Her mother. Always warning her.
Dee—Dee, why didn’t you help me? Sara. Always blaming her.
So many voices. So many.
Why, bitch, why’d you come after me? The vampires. Their last words haunted her.
Fucking whore. More of my kind will come. More. You can’t stop us. Twisted murmurs that followed her into the darkness.
She couldn’t escape the voices. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t?—
“Dee. Dee. Wake up.” Strong hands shook her.
Her eyelids flew open.
Simon stared down at her with his hair tousled and his face grim. “Someone’s here.”
A surge of adrenaline had her out of the bed and dressed in moments. They ran to the outer room. Dee grabbed two stakes and a gun.
She killed the lights and inched toward the window. A car door slammed outside. Gravel crunched beneath someone’s feet. Carefully, she pushed the curtain back, just a tiny crack of space.
Darkness without, to match the blackness within.
Night had fallen. The vampires would be at full strength again.
But since when did vamps come right up to your front door when they wanted to attack?
Her eyes adjusted almost instantly to the dark, and she motioned with her hand, pointing for Simon to take up a position on the left hand side of the door. The right side would be hers.
As she watched, the door knob began to turn. What? The bastard had picked the lock? Skilled SOB. Not that lock-picking talents would save his ass.
Dee waited in the darkness. Silent. Steady.
The door swung open. The scum walked inside.
Dee attacked.
She moved fast and came in hard. She caught the guy with a hard punch in the gut, then slung him back and rammed him into the wall.
Simon slammed the door closed. Good. Who knew how many of the bastards were out there? Better to separate them and make them weaker.
“Start talking,” Dee ordered, pulling out her stake. “How many of your asshole friends are out there waiting for their turn to jump me?”
The guy moved, shifting from a hunched shadow to the tall, strong form of a man. Dee stared at him, frowning as?—
“Dammit, Dee! Why the hell do you always have to punch first?”
She knew that voice. “Simon, hit the lights.”
A bright flood of illumination lit up the room, and Dee stared at an all too familiar face. “Tony? What are you doing here?”
Antonio Young pressed a hand to his stomach. Groaned, then said, “I’m here to arrest you for murder.”
Chapter Seven
“The hell you are.” Simon lunged forward. No one would be taking Dee away from him. No one.
And sure as shit not the bastard who’d been her lover.
