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“Yes.”
She swiped away the tear and left a smudge of red on her cheek. “Why should I believe this crap? Why should I believe you? You’ve been lying to me from the beginning.”
“Yes.” Again, a simple response.
She growled at him. He shouldn’t have—really shouldn’t have—but Simon found that small growl sexy.
“This could be some kind of sick-ass mind game you’re playing with me.”
“Could be, but it isn’t.”
Her hands went to her narrow hips. “Then how do you know all this? How do you know?”
His gaze drifted over her face. He suspected she knew this, but he’d tell her anyway. If she wanted the words, he’d give them to her, and he’d brace for her attack. “Because I’m blood linked to the Born Master who killed your family. And from the moment I became a vampire, I’ve known there was a bounty on your head.”
The hunter—she didn’t know it, but all along, she’d been the prey. Prey who’d taken down every vamp who’d come for her.
And who’d made the Born bastard afraid.
Dee drew back her fist, and Simon knew the punch would be hard. He probably deserved it, though, all things considered.
Before the blow could land, a long, loud whistle split the night.
Dee spun toward the front of the house. “This is not my night—” She froze. “Tell me that’s not gasoline.”
But it was. The scent was thick and heavy in the air because some bastards were out there, getting ready to torch the house. To torch them. “They followed you.”
“What?” Her claws were out. Not as long or deadly as a shifter’s, but still able to do a whole lot of damage. “No way, I’m always careful.”
He shoved past her and headed into the small den. The gasoline scent was stronger. Not much time. “You weren’t careful enough.”
“Simon—”
Something flew through the already broken front window. A Molotov cocktail. Shit. “Dee! Get the hell out!”
More burning bottles. They slammed into the floor. Into the walls. Into the broken remains of his prized TV. Then the flames sprang up in a greedy swarm as the fire raced across the floor and devoured everything in its path.
Trying to burn us out. No, just trying to burn them. He grabbed Dee and shoved her back into the bedroom. The flames chased them. The smoke thickened the air, and he tasted ash on his tongue. Simon could see flames through the blinds on his window. Tall, dancing, red flames. They’d surrounded the house. Smart SOBs. They’d circled the house with a ring of fire before sending the flames inside.
The better to trap them.
Vampires and fire didn’t mix. He’d seen too many of his brethren fall to the flames. It wouldn’t happen to them. Not to Dee. He grabbed the tangled covers from the bed.
Dee jumped up and kicked the glass from his window. No fresh air came in, just more billowing smoke. She hurtled through the broken glass and Simon lunged out right on her heels.
Couldn’t see the sky. No stars. No moon. Only that hungry circle of flames, burning closer.
“We’re surrounded.” Dee’s tight voice. And they were. The vamps had planned well, and he’d been so distracted by Dee that he’d let them get killing close.
Won’t make that mistake again.
They’d fed the flames. The vamps had poured so much gas on the area that the air tasted rancid on his tongue.
“Burn, bitch, burn.” The words echoed in the night, crackling above the flames.
Not on his watch. He threw the covers over Dee, heard her grunt as he grabbed her, and Simon tossed her over his shoulder.
Then he jumped through the flames.
