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“Sure. Come on.” She headed back to her car.

Squeezing Ben’s hand, I said, “Be careful.”

“You, too.”

I jumped out of the car to follow Hardin. I only got about halfway when I heard, “Kitty!”

Ben left the car and trotted toward me, hefting my backpack. I met him halfway, the late-night traffic roaring past us. Over us, the dark sky was washed out by city lights.

“Don’t forget this.” Ben handed me the bag. It had a weight snugged firmly inside that had become familiar. The handgun. “I put some stakes in there, too.”

“Cool. Good.”

Then he kissed me. Hand on my cheek, holding me steady, he covered my lips with his and urged open my mouth. I responded, melting against him. The movement lingered, passionate, flushing through my whole body. The touch was fire. I wanted to fall against him and keep him that close to me forever. My hands clenched on his arms.

He pulled away. “Be careful,” he said, his voice tight. Then he retreated to his car. His jaw was taut, lips frowning, determined and driven.

That kiss was almost like saying goodbye.

“Kitty, come on!” Hardin called from inside her car.

Then we were back to the gangster movie. Ben drove off.

He’d be all right, I knew he would.

I climbed into the passenger seat of Hardin’s car, and we peeled back onto the road.

“Lucky girl,” she observed, her smile amused.

“Yeah,” I said, still breathless. Yeah, I was.

chapter 14

She switched on all the sirens and lights, and we sped off at superspeed. I had calculated twenty minutes to get to the hospital. We might make it in ten.

“Tell me about Arturo,” Hardin said, totally calm, not at all like she was speeding down Denver’s streets at eighty miles an hour.

Where to start? “He’s a vampire. I don’t know how old. Maybe two or three hundred years—”

“You know, I can’t even comprehend that,” she said, giving a short laugh. “He was alive when George Washington was alive. What does that mean? How does this guy look at the world?”

“It means we don’t matter to him,” I said. “We’re just a flash in the pan.”

“What else?”

“He has flunkies, followers. I don’t know if he’ll have any of them here. I’m guessing he left them to guard the homestead. But if they are here, they’ll protect him.”

Her expression pursed, contemplating the dilemma: they were vampires, monsters, and she could plow right through them to get to her quarry. But they were also individuals who were entitled to due process.

“If we do run into them, how do I stop them? Can I do it without killing them?”

“I don’t know. Lots of things’ll hurt them: sunlight, holy water. Maybe even garlic. Staking’s what kills them.”

“So those stories are true.”

“A lot of them, yeah.”

“Good.” She reached to her collar and pulled a chain with a cross pendant from under her shirt. She left it hanging over her collar.

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