Kadie stared at him. His shirt was soaked with blood.
“I’m all right,” he said curtly.
She shook her head. Then, unable to resist, she glanced in the rearview window. The two men were still sprawled on the sidewalk. Unmoving.
Were they dead? She bit down on her lower lip, trapping the question in her throat.
Saintcrow pulled away from the curb. Keeping his eyes on the road, he said, “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”
She shook her head, one hand pressed to her heart.
Saintcrow drove for several miles before pulling to a stop alongside a park. Switching off the engine, he got out of the car, removed his shirt, and used it to wipe the blood from his shoulder and back. Wadding it up, he tossed it into a cement waste receptacle.
Kadie stared at him. In the faint glow of the headlights, she could see that his face was set in implacable lines. Was he in pain? Being stabbed might not be fatal to him, but she couldn’t help thinking it must be painful, vampire or not.
Saintcrow clenched his hands at his sides. He could feel Kadie watching him, sense her amazement as the wound in his shoulder began to heal.
After taking several deep breaths, he returned to the car. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“That’s a good question, only I should be asking it.” The nasty-looking gash in his shoulder was healing right before her eyes, the skin knitting together as if by magic. “Does it hurt?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“There’s blood on the seat.”
He shrugged, as if it wasn’t important.
“Do you think my father sent them after you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. It doesn’t matter.” Word of his presence had no doubt spread to nearby towns. Taking him out would be quite a coup for any hunter who managed to cut off his head.
“Are they . . . ?”
“One’s dead. The other one’s gonna have a nasty concussion.”
“Were they . . . ?” She swallowed hard. “Were they friends of my dad’s?”
“Probably. Come on, I’ll take you home.”
“But . . .”
“Don’t argue with me. Not now.” The wound in his shoulder was minor; the one in his back, made by a jagged silver blade, hurt like the very devil and would take longer to heal. Right now, he was in desperate need of blood to replace what was trickling down his back.
Kadie had a lot to think about on the ride home. Her father was a hunter, and there were others in town like him, men who wanted to kill Rylan.
Rylan had killed a man. What would her father’s reaction be when he found out?
Rylan was going back to Morgan Creek to find out if Lilith was there. And if she was, what did that mean for Rosemary and the others?
Kadie’s head was throbbing by the time they reached her house.
Saintcrow pulled up to the curb, his nostrils flaring. Andrews had company.
“ Rylan . . .”
“Stop worrying about me.”
Kadie nodded, worried by how pale he looked, by the fact that the house lights were on so late, and by the unfamiliar cars in the driveway. She glanced at the house, quickly exited the car when she saw her father step out onto the porch. Was that a gun in his hand?
She looked back at Saintcrow. “Go!”
Kadie hurried up to the porch, determined to get some answers. One look at her father’s face and she swept past him into the house, her heart pounding with fear for the man she loved.
Two men stood in front of the hearth, their bodies rigid, their faces expressionless, as if they had been carved from stone.
Kadie turned to look at her father, who’d followed her inside. “What’s going on?”
“Saintcrow,” her father said. “Where’s he staying?”
“I don’t know.”
“He killed a man tonight,” her father said. “A man who was a friend of mine.”
“Your friend tried to kill Rylan. What was he supposed to do?”
“He’s a vampire, Kadie.”
She took a deep breath. “I know that.”
“You know?” Disbelief swept every other emotion from her father’s face. “You know? And you’re dating him? Are you out of your mind? He’s a monster. A killer. Dammit, he’s not even alive!” He took a step forward. “You haven’t . . .” He sucked in a deep breath. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. Just tell me where to find him.”
“I have no idea. And I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”
“Kadie.” Her father moved toward her, one hand outstretched. “I understand you’re infatuated with him, but whatever your feelings for this creature might be, they aren’t real.”
“Dad . . .”
“Let’s leave it alone for now, Kadie. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Kadie nodded. She spared a brief glance for the two men in front of the fireplace, then went up the stairs to bed, only to lie there, wide awake, unable to sleep for the questions that plagued her.
Was Rylan safe?
Had his wounds healed?
And, most troubling of all, how many others were hunting him?
Thinking a glass of warm milk might help her sleep, she tiptoed down the stairs, only to pause when she heard voices on the front porch.
“. . . tomorrow night.”
“We’ll be ready.” Her father’s voice.
“What about your wife and daughter?”
“Leave that to me.”
Hearing muffled farewells, Kadie scurried back up the stairs, dived into bed, and pulled the covers up to her chin.
Tomorrow night? She clutched the bedspread in her fists. What was happening tomorrow night?
Chiding himself for not going back to the vacant house he was currently using as a lair, Saintcrow stood outside a rundown tavern on the outskirts of town, waiting for some unwary drunk to exit. Under other circumstances, he would have gone inside, but being shirtless, his pants stained with blood, he would surely have drawn attention, and that was one thing he didn’t need right now.
So, he stood in the shadows and waited.
It was nearing one A.M. before a middle-aged couple staggered out the door. He mesmerized them both, ordered them into the car—the woman in front, the man in the back. He took the woman first. Her blood was thin and tasted strongly of alcohol, but he was in no condition to be choosy. He took as much as he dared, then got into the backseat. The man’s blood tasted vile. He drank as much as he could stand, wiped the memory from their minds, and sent them on their way.