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“Rosemary,” she said quietly, “are there any other vampires in town?”
“Not right now. Lilith’s been here a couple of times, but she hasn’t come near any of us. Why?”
“I think those men who just left are hunters.”
Chapter 33
In the darkness of his lair, Saintcrow stirred, then came fully awake as the scent of freshly spilled blood stung his nostrils.
Vampire blood.
Lilith’s blood.
There were strangers in town. Strangers who smelled of blood and death.
Hunters.
Saintcrow opened his preternatural senses, honing in on his blood link to Kadie. It was midafternoon and she was in the restaurant with the other women.
A thought took him to Blair House. The scent of freshly spilled blood was strong inside. He found Lilith in her bedroom. A thick wooden stake made of hawthorn had been driven into her heart while she was at rest. The skin of her face was gray and shriveled, her white nightgown dyed red with her blood.
Saintcrow ran his fingertips over the stake. The hunters were Old School, he mused. In times past, people had believed stakes had to be made from ash or hawthorn or black thorn in order to be effective when, in truth, one kind of wood served as well as another.
Taking hold of the stake, he eased it from her chest and tossed it aside, then wrapped her body in one of the blankets. He would come back later tonight and bury her.
There was no sign of the young man she had preyed on. Either the hunters had taken him away, or he had left on his own early this morning, after the sun had sent Lilith to her rest.
The young man’s fate was immaterial. Saintcrow’s only concern was for Kadie. After ascertaining that she wasn’t in any danger, he was about to return to his lair when his senses warned him that the hunters were now prowling through his house. Saintcrow cursed himself for his carelessness. After the vampires and most of the humans had left town he had lowered the wards on the front door to make it easier for Kadie to come and go. Reinstating the wards had slipped his mind, or maybe he had been unconsciously hoping some hunter would find him and put him out of his misery when he returned without her.
He had two choices, he thought. He could go home and kill the hunters. Or he could stay here. One thing was certain—he had to decide soon. He could feel the dark sleep stealing over him again, dragging him down toward oblivion.
Swearing vociferously, he slid under Lilith’s bed. There was no hurry to go after the hunters. Now that he had their scent, finding them would be easy.
With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the darkness once more.
It was near dusk when Kadie left the restaurant. She had spent the afternoon with Shirley and the other two women. Donna had brought out a deck of cards and they had spent the day playing canasta and nibbling on potato chips and M&Ms. They had enjoyed an early dinner together and then Kadie had taken her leave, eager to see Saintcrow and tell him about the strangers she’d seen.
After parking the car, she hurried up the stairs, only to come to an abrupt halt when she saw that the front door had been forced open and was now hanging by one hinge.
Nudging it open a little farther, she leaned inside. “Rylan?”
An eerie silence greeted her.
She called his name a little louder and when there was still no answer, she crossed the threshold, cautiously glancing to the left and the right.
Someone had been here, but who?
The answer came swiftly to mind. The hunters, of course. Where were they now? Were they still inside? Had they found Saintcrow’s lair?
The thought spurred her forward. Grabbing the poker from the fireplace, she ran up the stairs to the turret room. The tapestry lay in a heap on the floor.
She stood there, the poker clenched in her hand, debating whether to open the door leading to Saintcrow’s lair, when she heard faint cries coming from the other side. The hunters! Had they forced open the door to Saintcrow’s lair and destroyed him? Whether they had gotten past the second door and made it into Saintcrow’s lair or not, they were now trapped inside the tunnel.
She started to open the door, then hesitated. If they had killed Saintcrow, the hunters could stay there and rot for all she cared. But what if they hadn’t? What if Saintcrow was still safe? He would surely kill them if he found them.
She bit down on the inside corner of her lip. Did she want to be responsible for that?
She was about to open the door when she felt a hand on her shoulder. With a shriek, she whirled around, the poker raised to strike, only to come face-to-face with Saintcrow, his eyes blazing with fury.
Taking the poker from her hand, he said, “Don’t even think about opening that door.”
Kadie pressed a hand to her heart. “What are you doing out here?”
“The men in the tunnel have had a busy day. They destroyed Lilith while she slept, and then they came here, looking for me. Only I wasn’t at home.”
“Where were you?”
“I spent the day at Blair House. I went over there to find out what had happened to Lilith, and I finished my rest there.”
Kadie glanced at the door. “What are you going to do with them?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Would they have been able to break down the door to your lair?”
“Perhaps.”
“You’re not going to . . . ?” She stared up at him. Sometimes she forgot he was a vampire, a creature with supernatural abilities she could scarcely comprehend, but it was blatantly evident now. Three men had come to destroy him. What right did she have to plead for their lives? And yet, how could she not? “You won’t . . . ?”
“Kill them?” A muscle clenched in his jaw. “Are you asking me to spare them?”
She nodded.
His gaze held hers for several moments, and then the red faded from his eyes and he was Rylan again.
“Get away from the door, Kadie.”
She quickly backed away, her foot catching in the fallen tapestry so that she stumbled.
He caught her arm, steadying her. “Careful.”
With a nod, she scooped up the tapestry, then scooted into the hallway, still within sight of the door. Whatever happened next, she was going to be there to see it.
When Saintcrow was certain Kadie was safely out of the way, he opened the door.
The three men inside blinked at him, the color draining from their faces when they realized they were staring into the face of the man they had come to destroy. The hunter at the top of the stairs loosed a cry undoubtedly meant to boost his courage as he charged forward, a stout wooden stake clutched in his right hand.
