The sound beckoned the darkness encroaching on Henrik’s psyche. A red cape before a raging bull.
Three Soul Eaters remained out there. Somewhere. And every instinct in his body told him at least one was the source of that human’s alarm.
Driven by the beast within, Henrik shoved Jakob away, flipped off the gritty pavement and took off in search of his next kill.
Chapter 4
Kaira said her goodbyes to the group of other contestants and crossed the street. The reception had ended and everyone was gathering down the street at a bar to continue the festivities, but she wasn’t up to it. Fever still heated her skin, her hip joints ached and tenderness had settled into her left side. Ever since her encounter with the older man—Jakob, he’d called himself—she’d felt shaky. Ridiculous, really. Nothing had happened. But her body didn’t seem to be convinced.
She dipped her chin further underneath the chunky scarf and held the collar of her wool dress coat closed at her throat. Should’ve brought a change of clothes, but when she’d left her little, out-of-the-way hotel this afternoon, it hadn’t seemed necessary. Now she was cold and tired and feeling the weight of her illness, and the two-block walk back to the bus stop seemed like two miles. Especially in heels. If it wasn’t so cold, she’d have slipped them off and walked in her bare feet.
Turning the corner, Kaira distracted herself from her aches by replaying the night’s highlights in her mind’s eye. Two of her photographs had already sold. She’d had great conversations with the rest of the judges—everyone seemed universally impressed with her vision for the series and especially with her violet aurora. She could’ve broken out into a dance in the middle of the gallery. And she’d had a promising conversation with a travel editor at a magazine based out of Copenhagen. All in all, one of the best nights of her life.
A flare of green light momentarily illuminated the street. Above her, the color rippled, like a holographic flag flapping in the wind. Her fingers itched for the feel of her camera.
She crossed the intersection and the small shelter for the bus stop came into view in the distance. At least she could sleep in tomorrow morning and let her body recuperate a bit from all the excitement of the day.
Her scalp prickled and her body broke out in goose bumps. She burrowed into her coat, but the sensations worsened. Kaira peered over her shoulder.
Two men crossed the intersection behind her.
Just two guys out at the festival. Don’t freak out. She picked up the pace as much as her heels and her joints would allow.
And, still, her internal alarm system rang. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t convince herself it was all just a coincidence. Instinct roared that they were following her, pursuing her.
She stared over her shoulder another moment, her hand already fishing in her purse for her cell phone. She pulled it out and looked ahead—
A hooded man stood five feet in front of her.
Herregud. Oh, my God. She froze and screamed. It was one of the two men who had been following her. Without looking behind her, she knew it was true.
She bolted to the left. He was on her almost instantly, his touch like ice even through her coat. Kaira screamed, and he slapped a hand roughly over her mouth, busting her bottom lip against a tooth. She twisted and writhed and pulled at his arm around her neck. No use. His hold was like iron.
His smell was sickly sour. The stench burned her nose and had her fighting back her gag reflex.
The second man joined them and made a grab for her wrists.
Kaira thrashed and pummeled and kicked with every bit of the desperation she felt. If she stopped fighting... No, she couldn’t even let her mind entertain all the horrible things they were likely to do to her. Every bit of her adrenaline-pumped energy had to remain focused on fighting, on surviving.
In the shadow of a van parked at the curb, they forced her to the ground. Her head glanced off the pavement. One of them wrenched her coat open, sending buttons flying, as the other tore the scarf from around her neck. Hands pawed over her breasts. Knees pinned her arms down, and one of them continued to muffle her screams. A blast of cold seemed to concentrate on her throat a moment before something sharp sliced into it.
Oh, nei. Oh, nei. Herregud, nei.
A sickening pull centered around whatever pierced her throat. Had he...had he bitten her? The suction burned and grated, like crushed glass flowed through her veins.
Growling cut the night air from somewhere nearby. Hissing, her attackers reared back. With bleary, unfocused eyes, she tried to track what was happening. Then something—or someone—swooped over her. Suddenly, the men were gone. Harsh words and feral growls rang out. Some sort of chaos was happening close to where she lay. Shots ricocheted off concrete.
Run, run, run!
Time slowed to a crawl even as she forced herself to move.
Pushing up onto her elbows, Kaira fought a wave of light-headedness that sent the world tilting and warping. She used the van’s bumper to pull herself up. Her foot pressed against the cold asphalt, making her aware she’d lost a shoe somewhere along the way. The bodice of her gown flapped open.
Like the air was made of molasses, she staggered to her feet and kicked the other heel free. Vertigo washed over her, sending her body careening against the back of the van. Ignoring the fight obviously going on behind her, she concentrated on forcing oxygen into her lungs.
A man appeared in front of her.
She sucked in a scrape of frigid air that left her throat raw. Shaking her head, she raised her hands and pressed tight against the van. Tears of fright and rage blurred her vision. She blinked them away and her mind reeled. The man from the gallery. Jakob. She’d recognize those flashing, ice-blue eyes anywhere. Except...bleeding cuts and scratches marred his face and throat. His clothing hung in tatters.
Had he sustained these injuries protecting her?
Pale eyes with an odd reflective quality dragged down her face and settled on her neck.
An anguished noise bubbled up from his throat a moment before he opened his mouth and flashed what could only be called fangs. He had fangs. Fangs!
She blinked, hoping against hope to see a different reality before her.
Even as she rejected what she was seeing, her mind resurrected the memory of the piercing sensation of moments before, and the trail of warmth covering her neck told her she was bleeding. The other one had bitten, sucked and drank from her.
In one more blink of her eyes, his body pinned hers and his mouth fell against the wound on her throat. She gasped and flinched as those long canines penetrated her flesh. While there was a moment of piercing pain, the first pull of suction obliterated it. Each hungry draw of her blood into his mouth blanketed her body in languorous heat.
It wasn’t the only difference from the attacker’s bite. This one—this...vampire?—was warm. His chest against hers, his lips and tongue on her neck, his hands holding hers against the metal. Her temperature rose everywhere his hard, lean frame pressed against hers. And, herregud, he smelled delicious. A tempting blend of everything dark and decadent, like hot, spiced chocolate. Saliva moistened her mouth.
An unwelcome thrill rushed through her trembling body. Her heart hammered, her blood pounded, her breaths came in ragged pants. Originating where he suckled, heat skittered down her spine and settled low in her belly.