Hauling the Savage from the car, Killean barely acknowledged the blow the creature delivered to his cheek before he sank his fangs into the Savage’s throat. The monster hit and kicked him for a good thirty seconds before the agony of having its blood unwillingly drawn overwhelmed it. Its fingers dug into Killean’s forearms as its body went rigid in his grasp.
Killean savored the vampire’s suffering as it flooded his system and eased the demon’s craving for this pain-filled, bloody end. The last of the Savage’s blood slipping down his throat didn’t bring with it the rush of power the life of an innocent did, but he still felt sated when he released his bite.
Lowering the dead Savage, he met Simone’s gaze over the roof of the car. He didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, but it had been long enough to see at least some of what he’d done. He braced himself for her revulsion, but he saw no disgust or loathing in her eyes; instead, there was only a strange caring he didn’t understand, and it unnerved him.
He didn’t want her understanding or to care what she thought of him, but with a sinking feeling, he realized he did care. However, shewouldbe going back.
Killean shoved the Savage into the car and bent down to pull the latch for the trunk. When it popped open, he stalked behind the vehicle to examine the contents of the trunk before pulling out a lug wrench. Taking the wrench, he walked over to where the gas lid was located and slammed the wrench into the side of the car until he found, and punctured the gas tank.
Gas poured onto the roadway as he tossed the wrench into the trunk and returned to the truck. He searched the vehicle for anything he could use to start a fire and discovered a disposable lighter in the glovebox. He removed their bags of clothes from behind the seat before returning to the car and taking off his shirt. After dipping his shirt into the gas, he flicked the lighter to set it on fire before tossing the cloth onto the spreading puddle of gasoline under the car.
He’d returned to Simone and was already running with her across a field of cows when the car erupted into a ball of fire.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tendrils of pinkspread across the horizon when Killean opened the door of the motel room he’d confiscated from a bleary-eyed clerk. They were getting inside with time to spare, but the hair on his nape rose when he glanced warily at the sky. He didn’t know if he’d ever walk in the sun the same as he had before, but it was as much a peril to him now as Joseph.
Killean stepped into the room behind Simone and closed the door. He tossed the bags of clothes onto the bed and pulled back the curtain to peer out the window. It could have been pure luck those Savages stumbled across them last night, or it could have been something more.
Neither of them had a tracking device on them, they would have discovered it by now; he was certain of that. And besides there had never been a time when Joseph or one of his flunkies could have installed one on him.
He suspected Joseph had more eyes out there than he’d initially believed, but where did that leave them? After fleeing the fire, they’d run through numerous fields and yards before he discovered a car with keys still in it. Taking the car, he’d driven another fifty miles before coming across this town.
He’d taken the car out of town and ditched it in a pond ten miles away before they doubled back on foot to this motel. Stores and restaurants lined the main road outside of the motel, and the area was already busy as cars drove up and down the street. Joseph may be attacking large groups like the wedding party, but he wouldn’t be so ballsy as to attack them here with so many witnesses.
He didn’t think Joseph could have tracked them here, but he’d believed they were relatively safe before, and he had no idea how many other towns were in this area. For all he knew, this was the only town near where they encountered the Savages on the road, or there were ten others in the vicinity. If the owner of the car reported it stolen and it was discovered in the pond, it would be a lot easier to track them down, but there was nothing Killean could do about that now. He was stuck here for the day.
Turning away from the window, his eyes fell on the phone sitting on the stand in the middle of the twin beds. He’d been putting off calling Ronan, but he had to get a warning out while he still could. Ronan had to know the little he’d learned about Joseph and his operation.
Walking over, he sat on the edge of the bed and lifted the phone from its cradle. Simone sat across from him as he dialed the last number he had for Ronan. Placing the phone against his ear, he listened as an automated message came on to say the number wasn’t in use.
“Shit,” he muttered and hung up.
Simone clasped her hands before her as Killean glowered at the phone. Over the course of the night, the cut over his eye had healed to a scratch and the swelling was gone. She knew vampires healed fast, but this was incredible.
“Who are you trying to call?” she asked as she stretched her wounded arm. It was still a little sore, but she hadn’t been anywhere near as injured as Killean.
“Ronan.” Picking the phone back up, he punched in the number he had for Saxon. He couldn’t handle Declan’s strange insight right now, and Lucien would probably hang up on him.
The phone rang four times before a groggy voice answered, “Better be good, I was dreaming about unicorns.”
“It’s not good,” Killean said.
“Killean?”
Saxon sounded like he’d be less surprised to receive a call from God, but Killean didn’t blame him. They’d probably never expected to see or hear from him again unless it was in a battle where they stood on opposite sides. That would never happen, but he couldn’t kid himself into believing he was the same vampire who walked away from them.
He flexed the hand in his lap. Blood no longer stained it, but he clearly recalled the blood flowing over his flesh and sliding down his throat while he killed those Savages. And he already longed to be covered in, and tasting, that blood again. Fisting his hand, he dug his nails into his palm and used the pain it created to keep focused on the conversation.
“It’s not Santa Claus,” he muttered.
“Is it the Krampus?”
Killean snorted. “It could be.”
For the first time since he’d known him, Saxon was speechless as he didn’t say another word.
“I tried calling Ronan first,” Killean said, “but his phone’s not in use.”
