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Beyond the Moon. Michele HaufЧитать онлайн книгу.

Beyond the Moon - Michele  Hauf


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out who would bite her first when the hunter had charged onto the scene, stakes swinging like some kind of samurai warrior.

      Though he’d worn the coat of the Order of the Stake, the long leather jacket had not concealed his muscular physique. His movements had been skilled and swift. Nothing like having a knight in dark leather rush in for the save. Verity had swooned a little when he’d held his hand against her chest and their gazes had locked. When he’d said “My soul,” she had gasped.

      Could it be?

      She clasped the wooden heart that hung from a leather cord around her neck and ran faster over the cobblestones, her heels clicking too loudly. So long she had wondered about what she held in her hand, and—could he have finally found her?

      Sensing someone was quickly gaining on her, she couldn’t risk turning back for a look. One of the gang must have escaped the hunter and now pursued her, a panther hot on the rabbit’s tail.

      She dodged to the right down a narrow alley, seeking the streetlight some hundred yards ahead and cursing the fact that she didn’t know where she was. She needed a moment to reorient herself with the neighborhood.

      Testing her magic, with a thought she sent out a spurt of fire. That was all she could manage, a tendril. She’d expelled most of her fire during practice. She needed a night of rest to properly recharge and restore her magic.

      And although she was skilled in gymnastics, this running in heels business was quickly taxing her after hours of exertion in the gym. In proof, she stumbled on a loose cobblestone, but instead of her body floundering, she felt a hand sweep around her waist, turn her and slam her shoulders against the concrete wall. Impact jarred her teeth. Her ankles wobbled. Verity could barely hold herself upright as she faced the bald vampire with fangs revealed and menacing eyes.

      “What the hell do you want?” She tried to say it with command, but without any magic to control, she had lost her only defense.

      “Your blood, witch.” The vampire slammed his hands to either side of her shoulders and leaned in to sniff at her hair. “You burned me, so now I’m going to make you scream before you die.”

      Before she could reward him with the scream he sought, the vampire sunk his fangs in her throat. Instinctively, Verity jammed her knee upward but only managed to connect with his thigh. The bloodsucker didn’t even groan. She beat his chest with her fists, but he easily wrangled her hands with strong, pinching fingers.

      The teeth in her neck tore at her skin. It hurt like nothing she’d ever experienced before. She’d never been bitten. Would not suffer a vampire to be so intimate with her, despite having once dated one. The creep sucking at her vein drew out her blood. He moaned as if in the throes of orgasm and—

      A yell from down the alley stopped the vampire. He tore out his teeth from Verity’s skin, twisting his head to pinpoint the origin of the shout. The wounds hurt so badly, the pain manifested as a scream. Slapping his hand to her cheek, the vampire mimed a goodbye kiss, but thankfully, his bloody lips did not touch hers.

      As the vampire ran off, Verity sank against the wall. Grasping her neck, her fingers slipped in her blood.

      The hunter lunged to a diving kneel before her and lifted her chin to peer at her neck. He inspected her cheek and swore. “Damn it. I didn’t see that one get away!”

      Eyelids fluttering, Verity tightened her jaw to keep back the tears that threatened. She wanted to beg him to save her, to make it all better, but she knew it was too late. She’d been bitten. And the vampire couldn’t have had time to seal the wound. If the wound was not properly sealed, the victim risked becoming a vampire.

      “You a witch?” the hunter asked quickly.

      She nodded.

      “Impressive fire magic back there. Are you going to be okay?”

      “Of course,” she gasped. Dragging her knees up, she hugged her arms about her legs. “Just a little nibble.” It hurt to conceal the pain, but she was an expert at hiding her weaknesses.

      “I think I got here in time.” The hunter stood.

      He scanned down the street. She knew he wanted to go after the vampire—and he should. But he squatted again before her, drawing her in to his overwhelming presence. An easy authority that felt not too harsh and not too hesitant. When he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest, she sank into the comforting embrace.

      How strange that he gave her the comfort she had craved, yet had thought to skillfully conceal that need.

      You must get home and find a spell to counteract the bite!

      But right now Verity could only tilt her head against the hunter’s shoulder. She felt so good in his strong arms. He smoothed a hand over her hair. Perhaps a teardrop spilled down her cheek. Or it could be the repulsive heat of the blood the vampire had taken from her vein and smacked onto her cheek.

      She clutched his jacket, and he suddenly tugged it away from her face. The Order knights wore blades at their collars to deflect vampire bites. Verity wished she’d worn more than the comfortable slip dress. Like full armor with a neck guard.

      Get to safety!

      She was safe in this man’s arms. She knew it without doubt. That was her mother’s voice prodding her to flee. Never trust a man. Most especially a hunter.

      “Who are you?” she managed between sniffles and gasps for breath.

      “Name’s Rook,” he offered. “I’ll see you home?”

      “No, go after the vampire. He could harm someone else. And I need to fix this. To find a spell to stop the vampire taint from changing me.”

      He bent to meet her eyes. Compelled to look into his eyes, Verity’s breathing calmed. Despite the frail light from the distant streetlamp, she clearly saw his irises were blue. Intense, bright and true. Yet something about him was as far from the truth as it could ever be.

      She had no idea what that meant.

      “I felt…” He looked at her chest where he’d touched her earlier. “But not now.” He shook his head and stared at his hand, as if battling with an inner argument. Then he touched her cheek where the vampire had slapped her. “Zmaj.”

      She knew that tribe. How did he know? He must have been tracking them.

      “You sure you’ll be okay if I go after the longtooth?”

      She nodded fervently and looked at her shaking, bloody fingers. “Yes, you’ve a job to do.”

      “I will—uh, what’s your name?”

      “Verity.”

      He gave her the oddest look. “Your name means truth, yet…” Now he laid his hand against her chest again, and she wanted him to hold it there forever, imbuing his surprising coolness into her very being and stealing away her fears. “I can’t read you. Strange.”

      “Go,” she said against the screams from her heart that begged her to swoon into his arms so he’d have to carry her home.

      He nodded and, helping her up, walked her to the end of the alley. “You live around here?”

      “I—yes. I need to orient myself. Where is Les Invalides?” The military museum, which was also a hospital, always served as a navigation point for her.

      “That way.”

      “Then I can walk home in five minutes. I’m good now. Thank you, Rook. You’re with Order of the Stake?”

      “Yes.” He took out a metal stake and spun it between them. His body shifted as he stepped from foot to foot, eager to return to the chase. “Start walking. I want to make sure you can so I don’t have to worry about you.”

      Taking directions, she meekly turned the corner and scampered homeward, finding adrenaline carried her to the front door. Once inside, she raced upstairs to


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