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She uncurled her hands and glanced down at her new claws. “He won’t be back.”
“You can’t take him down alone!” Jude snapped. “You’ll?—”
“Die?” Dee finished and sent him a tight smile. “Been there, done that.” Her eyes darted around the street. No sign of Zane. He hadn’t come to Night Watch, not once during her little “stay.” She would have known. Would have caught his scent just as she’d caught all the others.
But he’d come for her, sooner or later.
Just like Tony would be coming. Her time had expired for him, and the little matter of her being undead wasn’t going to stop him from taking her down.
She stepped into the night.
“Never the innocents, hunter. Remember that. Never them,” Pak ordered.
Dee gave a nod. The prey she’d be hunting first, well, he wasn’t innocent. She doubted if he ever had been.
Sure, she’d track the Born Master. Find him, do her best to kill him. But first?—
First, she had some personal payback coming.
Her nostrils widened as she scented the night. “Come out, come out, Simon Chase.” I’ll find you, wherever you are.
The hunt was on.
* * *
Following the scent of blood was ridiculously easy. Fighting the urge to let her fangs out, to take a bite—not so easy.
But the need for blood had been slaked under Pak’s watchful eye. Control, yeah, she had that now. He’d gotten her through that first mad rush of blood hunger. The rush that drove some vampires crazy and pushed others beyond that thin good/evil line.
She’d survived. She wouldn’t need to feed for weeks now, and when she did feed, the thirst wouldn’t be as overwhelming.
The first time—it was always a true monster in vampire land.
So she had her control. For what it was worth. Once she got her hands on her lying lover, Dee wasn’t sure how long it would be before that old wall of control started to crack.
The first stop on her little hunt was his place. Not that she expected Simon to still be hanging around town. No, once he’d dumped her ass, he’d probably hit the road as fast as he could.
Why change me? Why? That question had haunted her every moment. Was this some kind of sick punishment? Another way of torturing her? Damn vampire. He’d probably thought turning her into what she hated most was hilarious.
His house stood at the end of the road, lined off by garish yellow police tape. She could see the color of the tape so clearly in the darkness. Could see everything so clearly. The bullet holes in the siding. The broken shards of glass. The front door that swayed drunkenly on its hinges.
Dee hunched down and slid under the police tape. No sign of any uniforms. No sign of anyone. Maybe she’d find something inside to lead her to the vampire bastard.
Getting inside was easy—the front door was pretty much gone. The TV lay smashed on the floor. Stuffing from the couch cushions covered the room.
And to think, she’d actually been happy here. For a brief, stupid moment of time, she’d been happy.
The floor creaked. A groan, more vibration than sound, and she caught the faintest hitch. Breathing. Coming from the bedroom.
Claws out, she sprang forward.
And slammed into her lover’s chest.
Her dead lover’s chest.
Dee took him down, hard and fast. Simon’s head rapped against the hardwood. Her hips straddled him, and she pinned his arms to the floor. Oh, yes, vampire strength, baby. Payback was going to be hell.
“Dee.” Why was he saying her name like that? All husky and hungry. Like he hadn’t royally screwed her.
