Predatory

He put on his sunglasses and pulled his hood forward to hide his face.

Zareb paced his living room restlessly. The other vampires stood motionless around the room’s edges, unwilling to come closer to him or Zareb.

“You returned home almost at dawn this morning. Tell me anything you didn’t have time to tell me before the day sleep took you.” Zareb paused in his pacing.

Ethan almost growled. Cassie had been gone for three days. The hell with talking, he wanted to get moving. They’d finally figured out where Garrity had Cassie, and Ethan wanted to be there now. He’d kill every one of the bastards. And if they’d hurt her—he wouldn’t even consider the possibility that she was dead—he’d kill them slowly. No Second One for them. Too easy. The Second One rumbled its thoughts on that.

But Zareb wouldn’t get his ass moving until he got an answer to his question. “The Collector is a scientist and a fucking entrepreneur according to what the guy said last night. I told you about the coffins and the binders. This Collector rewards those who work for him by feeding them small doses of energy from captive vampires. That’s why his men move so fast.”

“And?” Zareb glanced at his watch.

“The Collector created the beasts. He’s a stem cell research genius. The beasts really are made from a bunch of other animals.” He stopped and closed his eyes. This was the hardest part to tell. “He searches particularly for vampires from our bloodline who’re lost to the Second One. I don’t know how the hell he does it, but he uses their brain cells to create the beasts’ brains. They have our intelligence, hunting ability, and the Second One’s mindless lust for killing. The one difference is that the Collector has programmed their brains so that he or his people can control them.” He turned away. “I’m sure he was pissed off that one of his beasts killed Darren and that Garrity didn’t get a chance to harvest his brain.”

The gathered vampires moved restlessly. Their hate, their need to kill battered at Ethan.

“After we take care of Garrity, this Collector is fucking finished.” Death lived in Zareb’s eyes. “Let’s go.”

Ethan was oblivious to the dark streets, to the others in the car. He reached out with his thoughts, searching, searching. Damn it, why couldn’t he sense her? He finally grew aware that the car had stopped. He climbed out and waited while other cars parked nearby.

Zareb had pulled out all the stops. Twenty of his children surrounded him. The four brothers who guarded his home stood a little apart from them.

One of the brothers spoke. “We left her alone, so we’re here to help get her back.”

Zareb nodded. “We’re a mile from the building where we think Garrity is headquartered. He’s grown careless and arrogant. He doesn’t know how many children I have or how powerful we are when united.” He stared into the darkness. “Run, my children. And then kill.”

And so they ran, shadows gliding silently around buildings and through streets. Ethan was the first to reach the abandoned building. The rest spread out around it, looking for other ways in. He wanted to tear the door off with his bare hands, but Zareb moved in front of him.

“You’re too lost to your anger. We don’t need any noise to announce our visit. Let me.” Zareb touched the door and it simply dissolved.

Ethan stepped inside and then froze. He knelt and touched his finger to the floor. Her blood, her scent. He looked back. “She’s here.”

They flowed silently into the building.

Cassie lay in her glass coffin. She could see everything as long as she didn’t have to turn her head. Her mind was alive, a maelstrom of panicked thoughts and emotions. Where was Ethan? Had Garrity caught him? And how could she exist like this—her eyes the only thing she could move—for a lifetime?

No, no, no! Horror broke over her in waves of terror and despair. She was a vampire. She could live for many lifetimes. Like this.

She couldn’t even twitch, but her senses were so sharp they almost hurt. Cassie could hear sounds from outside the coffin—whispers, laughter, and a discussion about when the best time to bury her would be. Her heartbeat raced, and she would’ve screamed if she could make a sound. Her mind spun images of looking up from the bottom of her grave as clods of earth landed on top of her coffin over and over until she was imprisoned in darkness. Since she couldn’t pray for death, she’d pray for insanity.

Objects within her range of vision looked vibrant, almost unreal. Every detail, no matter how tiny, was distinct. Right now she could see her binder working on another victim’s headstone. His name was Jon. Cassie never knew that hate could devour. She didn’t need a Second One urging her to kill the binder bitch. She’d put her shiny new fangs to good use if she ever got free.

No smells seeped into the sealed coffin, but if fear had an odor, she was suffocating in it.

At least they weren’t starving her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a stand with a bag of blood hanging from it. The blood was draining down a narrow tube that had been inserted through a small opening in the coffin. Since her arms were at her sides, she couldn’t see it flowing into her body.

Cassie closed her eyes, the only physical power she still controlled. She would survive on blood until . . . Would some merciful person eventually remove the tube? Did she want to die from starvation? Would she die? A question she hadn’t asked. Maybe even starvation wouldn’t kill her, just torture her forever.

What about her family? She’d never see them again. They’d grow old wondering what had happened to her, imagining her lying dead somewhere, never knowing that her fate was much worse than that.

And when she thought she couldn’t bear the parade of horrendous possibilities one more second, she thought of Ethan.

Ethan who had dragged her from that nightmare basement in Eternal Rest. Ethan who loved his brother, cared about the death of his neighbors, and who rescued a bad-tempered cat that no one else would have wanted.

Ethan. The man she wanted to sleep beside for the rest of her lifetimes and now never would. The realization that she loved him came too late, much too late. A tear slipped down her face and she couldn’t even freaking wipe it away. How pathetic was that?

The sounds of raised voices yanked her from her pity party. Damn, she wished she could turn her head. Everyone was yelling at once. She could just see Garrity.

“What do you mean they killed all the guards? There were two dozen of you up there. How did they get past the fucking beasts?” Garrity was shouting into his cell phone.

The binder crouched, whimpering beside Jon’s headstone.

Cassie pictured herself bringing the stone down on top of her murderous head. And then she forgot about the woman. Was the place under attack? Finally, she dared to think the impossible.

Had Ethan found her?

Garrity cursed as he shoved the phone into his pocket. He ran toward the other side of the room, but Cassie couldn’t see what he was doing. Then she heard the sound of a door opening.

“Cut the crying crap and get over here. I always have an escape route. This tunnel will bring us out one street over. Once I close this door behind me it’ll lock. I won’t wait for you even for the Collector.” Fear lived in Garrity’s voice.

“Then maybe you’ll wait for us.”

Cassie would’ve laughed if she could. She recognized the voice of Ethan’s friend. Stark.

“We figured you’d have a secret hole to crawl into, so we looked for it.”

Garrity came back into view as he scuttled away from the door. He grabbed the screaming binder and yanked her in front of him. Then he dragged her back toward his desk. Cassie could hear him pulling a drawer open.

Frustrated, Cassie lost sight of him again.

“I won’t need a sword. This gun will splatter your skulls all over the room. No regenerating a new head.” Garrity’s voice shook. “And I have her in front of me. I’m walking out of here and you’re not going to stop me.”

Stark’s laughter rang with wicked anticipation. “Oh, I’m not going to kill you. Someone else wants that pleasure. But forget about walking out of here because . . .”

Cassie rolled her eyes to the left in time to see the hall door implode.

“My buddy’s here to send you to hell.” Stark’s voice ended in a snarl.

Whatever Garrity saw in the hallway, it sent him stumbling over to put her coffin between himself and the door.

Cassie was still thinking about that snarl. That sound couldn’t have come from Stark’s throat. Cassie mentally cursed as she made a desperate attempt to see. She needn’t have bothered. Suddenly, a tiger leaped into view. It faced Garrity across the width of her coffin. It rose onto its hind legs and put its freaking front paws on the coffin and growled at him.

“Look at me.”

The new voice came from the doorway. Cassie knew that voice. Ethan.

“Don’t look.” Garrity sounded as though he were in full panic mode as he warned the binder.

Too late. The binder had looked. Cassie watched her die. And as much as Cassie wanted to feel sorrow at another death, she could only remember what they’d planned for her. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">