He absolutely would. A few more seconds, if that rip-roaring headache hadn’t rattled his progress, he would have drained that security guard. Delivery service would be fantastic, but to request a pint of blood?… Groaning as he envisioned the possibilities, of ordering some breakfast… starting with the delivery driver…
Shaking his head, thinking ofanything else, trying to block the thought from his mind, Bennett turned on the loft’s single pot brewer and sipped a cup of black coffee while he stuffed a stack of texts thatmightbe helpful into a box. Adair had only needed blood every few days; he’d make some calls and pick up something from a butcher on his way out of town. Hell, he’d lick a raw steak if he had to.
What was Blayk saying about another infusion? Fucking shit, that taste had been different from the guard. Like literal lifeblood, where the guard had been closer to mana or ambrosia or something irresistible, the vampire blood had been critical.
Dammit, stop thinking aboutit. His throat burned, his mouth watered at the thought of another taste. Vampire, human, cow… any of the above would ease the hunger that was growing stronger by the second.
Reaching to the next shelf up, he grabbed a few more books on vampires, but he doubted anything in here told of the change. Slice a belly, shatter a neck, then call in the coroner to cremate. Demon hunters didn’t exactly care how the vampires spawned each other, instead focusing their efforts on eliminating them.
He needed help. Dashing down the stairs, he lifted his phone from the kitchen island and glared. Cringing, his stomach wrenching in rebellion, his throat burned as the craving knocked him on his ass. Breaking out in a cold sweat, he collapsed to his knees.
***
Adair scanned the area, looking for… anything. Something. A glimmer of hope that he was alive and not ravaging the local population in a frenzied killing spree. Expanding her circle, passing dozens of not-its, she finally found what she was looking for. At the edge of the industrial district, a few restaurants and converted lofts dotted the row, civilization increasing with each block closer to downtown.
About damn time. An old warehouse looked decrepit at first glance, but she could see where the structure had been subtly updated. Hopping out of the car, she stuck to the shadows, the overcast sky toasty as a tropical island, but tolerable for now. At the garage door, she searched for a lock she could pick, a window she could bust open… anything.
Flipping a rusted-over panel, she found a sleek electronic doorbell. Pulling in a lungful of oxygen, she pressed the green button to request entry. Watching the camera, she silently pleaded for him to be here, safe and peaceable inside.
He didn’t answer, but within a few seconds, the garage door smoothly retracted, revealing a cavernous bay. He was here. Her heart tripped in her chest, and a heavy moisture pooled behind her eyes. Parking in the middle of a cluster of flashy cars, she turned and saw the garage door closing behind her.
Targets, dummies and a whole lot of open space. Clearly a well-used training area. To the left, she saw the finished areas. A gym, well equipped with weights and mirrors for serious training. And a metal staircase next to a freight elevator. Climbing the stairs, she kept her treads silent. Easing the door open, she sniffed for signs of anyone but Bennett, and was relieved to find nothing more than a fire in the hearth and coffee in the brewer.
The left wall was dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. Along the adjacent wall, an impressive fireplace was the focus of a trio of couches that surrounded a wide ottoman atop a plush white rug. An identical rug anchored the open bedroom on the opposite wall, the bed neatly made with white sheets and a fluffy comforter with a wintry impressionist painting over the bed, a wooden double-wide walnut dresser to the side. To the right, a long dining room with seating for six bordered a granite, brick and stainless-steel dream kitchen. Further along, a door to what looked to be the bathroom, and to the right, a triple-sized walk-in closet or something.
Her gaze landed on a spiral staircase that led to a loft above. Dashing to the top of the stairs, she found a cozy library overlooking the rest of the living space and a box of books tipped over on the floor, but he wasn’t there either. Where was he?
A low, whimpering growl rumbled from the closet beneath her. Tearing down the staircase, she threw open the closet door. Locked in heavy iron chains and hooked to a steel support beam, Bennett sat on his knees, tugging, yanking at his bindings, his wrists raw and bloody. Tears streamed down his face.
She inched toward him, swallowing the burning pit of resentment for the creeps that would snuff out such a steadfast light.
His eyes were bloodshot, their natural, vibrant brown now a dull dirt and as lifeless as his ashen complexion. He shook his head as he growled, “Don’t.”
Lowering to her knees in front of him, she stayed out of biting distance. “I know you’re hungry,” she crooned. Hair wild, shirt ripped over a torso that had seriously bulked up since she seen him last, his body tensed with restrained rage.
He bared his teeth and let out a fierce rumble. Those canines confirmed it all.
Jerking against his bindings, the veins of his arm bulged as he strained to break free. One bolt had already snapped off the wall, but he’d been smart in his self-imprisonment, and more still held.
“Did you do this to yourself?” she asked.
He nodded.
Her gaze softened as she imagined him without blood, realizing he was out of time and tried to restrain himself before he hurt someone. She remembered that feeling so well, the urgency of it, needing blood so often during those first few weeks. In the beginning… she’d succumbed to the thirst. She hadn’t questioned it. She hadn’t missed the humanity. How many hundreds had she killed? “I’m going to help you. I’m going to get you some blood, but…” she trailed off, not wanting to let him know she didn’t know how the hell she was going to do it.
Leaving him alone wasn’t an option. It was only a matter of time before he broke free. She had no doubt he could bust a hole in the wall if he put his mind to it.
This was not the naïve young demon hunter she’d loved. He was… built. A solid brick of a man, he had put that gym downstairs to good use. The darkness to him was new too, and a niggling in her gut told her it wasn’t only the change that had brought it on.
Daring to get close, she pulled his phone from his pocket and backed out of reach. “I’m calling your team. I’ll see if someone can swing by a butcher I know.”
Voice hoarse, he muttered, “Not… I need…” He clenched his jaw, refusing to say more.
Adair saw where he’d opened the garage for her, then pulled up his calls, finding her number right up top. “You were trying to call me?”
He nodded again, but wouldn’t open his mouth. There was something he wasn’t saying. And, she suspected, a lot he wasn’t going to say.
She backed out of the closet. Logan and his wife were still in Scotland, otherwise she knew her brother could be here within the hour if he risked a few speeding tickets. But newly human, his proximity would probably make things worse.
