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His lip twitches as he removes the safety off the gun, his movements slow and deliberate. I’m assuming he must be a bounty hunter. I’ve heard of them, but never dealt with one before. Witches are known to protect their own and to make sure no information gets out. I wonder how many more are after us.

He steps forward, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders, like he’s warming up his body, ready for an altercation. I sway slightly, the sun too bright and too hot on my skin, but I don’t back down. I level him with a steely gaze. I can hear Tara’s heartbeat in my ears and her steady breathing. She’s okay, but I know she’s hurt.

‘You don’t want to do this,’ I say, keeping my voice even. ‘Walk away. No one has to get hurt.’

He tilts his head, smirking like I’ve said something he has heard a hundred times before. His finger moves. The first shot roars out, loud and sharp in the almost-silent surroundings, but I’m already low, shifting left. The blast scorches past my shoulder, and I feel the wind of it as it whizzes past me. He was much faster than I expected. He’s clearly done this before.

Rushing forward, I lunge onto him. We crash into each other shoulder to chest, the hit sending both of us staggering. Gravel crunches under our feet as we wrestle with each other. He swings and I duck, he is no match for a vampire’s reflexes. My hand connects with his arm. I twist, hearing the sound of his shoulder pop out of its socket and he howls in pain, attempting to get out from under me.

He pulls a knife from his belt with his other hand, even though he is still pinned beneath my weight. I block the first swipe with my forearm and grab his wrist before he can pull back. We struggle, muscles straining, both of us locked in place.

I knock the blade free and land a punch that sends his head snapping back.

‘The witches sent you?’ I ask, my eyes searching his, but he keeps them averted, not foolish enough to let me compel him.

He grunts, attempting to push me off him, but I’m locked in place. I know he isn’t going to say anything. With a resigned exhale, I reach down and snap his neck. There’s a bony crunch under my fingers as he lies motionless, his head bent at an awkward angle. He gazes above my shoulder, lips parted.

Sitting back, I swipe a hand through my hair, feeling a little disorientated from the heat. I pull myself to my feet and head over to the car. Tara’s half-awake, trying to sit up. Leaning through my side, I unbuckle her seatbelt and pull her out. She moans softly, her body limp as she lets me drag her from the car.

Eyes fluttering open, she weakly grips my shirt as she tries to stand, but she’s unsteady on her feet, one hand pressed to her ribs. She collapses into me and I sweep her up into my arms, one arm under her knees, the other around her back, holding her close to my chest. The beat of her heart grounds me.

‘What … what was that?’ she asks, voice hoarse, blood trickling down the side of her face from a wound that’s covered by her hair. ‘What happened?’

‘Someone looking for you,’ I say. ‘Or us, perhaps. I couldn’t get any info out of him.’

Her brows dip together, her eyes drifting to the road. They land heavily on the dead man, his gun and knife beside him. They dart back to me and she swallows.

‘You killed him.’

The air hangs thick between us and I scan her face, trying to read her thoughts.

‘I gave him the chance to walk. He didn’t take it,’ I explain, feeling a sense of deja vu wash over me, as this exact thing happened with Lucy, even though that somehow feels like it was ages ago.

‘We need to get off the road,’ I say. ‘More could be coming.’

A wave of dizziness hits me with full force and I stagger, feeling light-headed. The sound of a car alerts me and I turn, seeing an SUV. The car stops and a man in his mid fifties pokes his head out, jaw almost on the floor.

‘Oh my God!’ the man blurts, taking in the dead man on the ground and the crumpled car beside him.

His eyes meet mine and I lock onto his with as much strength as I can muster.

‘I need your car,’ I say, voice smooth and firm, leaving no room for argument. ‘Stay here and call for help.’

Wordlessly, he steps out of the car. The man opens the back door for me and I gently lower Tara into the back seat. Settling behind the wheel, I put my foot down and gun it toward the closest town. The sun is starting to sink into the horizon and I could not be more relieved to see night approaching.

I pull into a near-empty car park. The motel light flickers and I eye it suspiciously. I could find something nicer, but I just want to get her cleaned up and into bed. The motel room smells like mildew and cheap disinfectant. The tiles in the bathroom are cracked, the curtains half-hung, the bedspread patterned with cigarette burns. Not exactly ideal, but it’s good enough for now.

I set her down on the edge of the bed.

‘Sit tight,’ I say. ‘I’ll get you cleaned up.’

She nods, her eyes looking heavy. I run the tap in the bathroom and wet a towel. I bring it back and kneel in front of her.

I clean the cut on her cheek and check her ribs. Nothing feels broken, but she winces when I press just below the sternum. Bruised, probably. When I reach for the water bottle, she stops me. Her fingers close around my wrist.

‘Don’t waste time,’ she says quietly. ‘Just give it to me.’

I meet her eyes. ‘Are you sure?’