Prologue
Belltown, Seattle, Fifteen Years Ago
One more taste before sunrise. Drunk on the bliss of the night, on that heartrending instant when you knew nothing would ever be the same–and not just because the sex had been life-altering–Bennett rose to kiss her again. The tip of her fang grazed across his lips as she taunted him. Adair smiled and trailed her fingertips over his jaw before giving in to the kiss. Warm and tangy, their breath entwined.
In stark contrast to the quiet of the stolen moment, the piercing shrill of sirens rattled the air around them. The crisp breeze over the rooftop served as a reminder that winter was heavy in the air. Beneath him, the sandpapery roof scraped against the skin of his back. Adair slid off and readjusted, then snuggled atop him, resting her head on his shoulder.
His voice filled with gravel, and coated with satisfaction, he said, “I knew training on the roof was risky, but the rocks digging into my ass have officially sealed it for me. I’m getting a bigger place. Something with room to train, add a gym, library, design my own living quarters. Maybe some outdoor furniture for more comfortable rooftop sex.”
“Or we could try a bed next time. You know, like normal people?” He felt her wicked grin against him as her fingertips trailed along the ridges of his abdomen.
“Normal? I can’t say I am familiar with the concept.”
“I am well practiced at normal. What better way to blend in?”
“Fair point.” He grinned, tracing the contours of her arm.
Melted into him, she tormented him with her touch–and not just because he wanted to go again, well, he did, but if she had a clue what she did to him, the corny thoughts in his head, she’d run far and fast. She sighed. “I suppose demon hunters don’t have time for normal.”
“I had the choice to live a human life, but it wasn’t for me.”
She shifted up to her elbows and grinned at him. “It suits you. Slayer of monsters by night, and debater of the nuances of ancient languages in the lecture hall by day.”
“I should have picked something more interesting, but it is useful.” He tipped his head up and pressed his lips to hers before lying back down again, hoping she couldn’t feel the flutter in his chest at the simple affection. “What about you? You have an eternity to do whatever you’d like.”
“I enjoy experimenting with normal, but there are only so many careers that don’t involve daylight. Perhaps I’ll try my hand at graphic design.” She settled her head back on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist.
“You kicked ass the other night when we ran into those werewolves. If you wanted, you could try out life as a demon hunter for a century or two. Quinn and Lana are open minded and would be on board with you joining our team. My parents would flip if they found out about us in any form, but they’d come around.”
“Bennett. It’s more than that. I don’t give a damn what your parents think, nor your friends. They’re hunters; they won’t ever see past what I am, anyway. And sure, I can fight. Even vampires don’t last as long as I have without survival skills. But you were raised for this. You make a choice to dedicate your life to protecting the fricking world. I wasn’t. I didn’t.”
On his eighteenth birthday, Bennett had accepted his heritage, suffering the inelegant ceremony in which his parents, grandparents, and a few other demon hunting families gathered and watched him writhe around on the ground as his ancestor’s demon blood activated within him. While the others chatted and congratulated each other on his success, he lost his lunch. His skin prickled, sweat drenched his skin, and he fought the embarrassing tears of fear and pain as he transformed. It was like going through puberty all over again, multiplied by infinity, but within the course of an hour. Okay, so his mom and the other hunters in the room had tried to soothe the ache, acutely remembering the misery of the change. Especially the moment you believed you wouldn’t survive it. Because not everyone did.
When it cleared, they’d left him to recover blessedly alone while they shared cake and champagne. Breath coming easier, mind clearer than ever, he’d sat on the cool concrete of his parents’ patio. Cold was no longer painful, but simply a nagging reminder that he ought to move inside, eventually. Having prepared for the life of a demon hunter since infancy, Bennett was well trained in combat, but the strength running through his veins was intoxicating.
He’d wandered the first few years, traveling the world, learning the ropes as he tested his limits. But he’d missed home. So, four weeks and two days ago, he’d rented a simple apartment in Seattle. The place was exactly where he needed to be. The nightlife was vivid, the parties wild… and he knew vampires walked among them.
Demon hunters didn’t have keen smell or sight like vampires, certainly better than humans, but nothing one would call extrasensory. He simply knew.
And he’d been so right. Three weeks ago, he’d met her.
Trained well, he suspected the club was full of bloodsuckers. Bennett had been compelled to scope it out. Innocent in appearance, graceful in her movements, yet swift and assured, he’d known what she was. With the satin dress that clung to her body like sinful second skin, her sun-kissed hair, the dappling of freckles across her cheeks, and pink lips that formed a natural pout, she’d been a walking vision of all his fantasies come true. No doubt about it, she was absolutely a vampire; her allure seemed designed to tempt him.
Falling right into her trap–willingly and intentionally–he’d followed her to the dance floor and splayed his palm possessively over her abdomen as she leaned into him, their hips swaying together in a fluid, erotic rhythm.
But she hadn’t been at all what he was expecting. Instead of deigning to sink her teeth into him, she didn’t make the move. Not to say she didn’t make some moves. He had regretted that his first solo vampire slay was going to be such self-torture. But he’d been trained well. Vampires would do whatever it took to lure in their prey. And he wasn’t about to blow it by falling for her charms.
She didn’t struggle when he held the knife to her throat, but asserted her vegetarian status, her innocent blue eyes swimming with honesty. Vampires had survival instincts stronger than any other as the only immortal breed outside the demon realm. So naturally, he hadn’t believed her at first.
When the dust settled from their battle of wits, he’d learned they had the same goal. Well, similar. She wanted to maintain her safety in this corner of the world and was seeking to clear the area of bloodsuckers. He wanted them annihilated.
“Bennett?” Adair murmured, her porcelain skin warm against his. Yet her voice was colder than the sleet that teased in the air.
“Yeah?” Fuck. He knew that tone. Well, not from experience, but he’d known it was inevitable. She’d made it clear he was little more than a dalliance. As she’d put it, minutes before thrusting her tongue down his throat that first time, their ages, and lifestyles were insurmountable barriers.
He’d scoffed. Sure, she was five centuries older. What guy wasn’t younger? Yes, he was a few months shy of twenty-one, and she was his first, but he knew what he was getting into. Adair looked no older than her early twenties, and would for the rest of eternity. As a demon hunter, he’d age a few more years, then hold steady for at least two or three hundred years. At least they’d look the same age for a few hundred years.
Interrupting him from his memories, waking him as he’d been falling asleep, Adair finally murmured her question, “You know this can’t happen again, right?” Her sunny brown hair tickled his skin as she sat up.
