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Rogue (Relentless Book 3): Chapter 3


“SARA, ARE YOU sure these directions are right?” Roland twisted the wheel to the left and the headlights bounced over the cactus growing along the edge of the twisting desert road. Not a road actually, more like a track that wound through the uneven terrain with occasional markers to let you know you were still on it. We had been following it for forty minutes, and so far there was no sign of buildings or any kind of life.

“David said it was a bit out of the way.”

“Out of the way or out of the state?” he retorted. “If this road gets any worse, we’re probably going to lose the exhaust… or worse.”

“We should almost be there.” The car crested a rise, and I pointed to a small cluster of lights less than a quarter of a mile away. “There it is.”

Jordan leaned forward in her seat. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

“Right there, those lights.”

She shook her head. “I don’t see any lights.”

“Me either,” Roland said.

“Ha-ha, you guys. Very funny.”

By now we were close enough to make out a large, two-story adobe structure with lights shining from some of the downstairs windows. Outside lights illuminated the front of the building where half a dozen cars were parked.

Roland maneuvered the car across a small wooden bridge. “I don’t know what you’re talking –” He hit the brakes. “Whoa! Where did that come from?”

“What the hell?” Jordan yelled close to my ear. “That was not there a minute ago.”

One look at their shocked expressions told me they were not kidding me. “You really didn’t see it before?”

Roland shook his head, still gawking at the building.

I studied the structure, which appeared pretty normal to me – well, as normal as any building in the middle of the desert. “It must be some kind of spell to hide the place until you get close to it. He’s a warlock, so he could probably do something like that.”

“But you saw through it,” Peter said.

I chewed my lip, just as mystified as they were. “Maybe my power makes me immune to it. I don’t know.”

Roland parked the car in front of the building. He rested his hands on the steering wheel and looked at me. “Are you sure you want to go in there?”

“No, but I think I have to,” I replied. “You guys can stay in the car if you want.”

He reached for his door. “No way am I letting you go in there alone.”

The four of us got out of the car and walked to the entrance. I stopped in front of the arched wooden door and read the sign affixed to it. NO WEAPONS. NO BLOODSHED. NO CREDIT. “Nice.”

“No weapons?” Jordan blustered. “That’s ridiculous.”

I removed my dagger from the inner pocket of my coat and motioned for Roland to unlock the car. “It makes sense if you think about it. He does business with everyone, so he must get clients who hate each other. It would be bad for business if they killed each other at his place.”

Jordan didn’t remove the knives I knew she was carrying, and I waved a hand at the door. “I bet he has a ward in place to detect weapons.”

She glared at me for a long moment then stalked to the car. “Fine, but I’m going on record as saying this is a bad idea.”

“We’re not completely unarmed. We still have Roland and Peter.”

She made a sound that told me she’d rather have her knives.

Roland opened the door, and we filed inside. I was at the rear and had to move up between him and Peter to get a look at the room we were in. For some reason, I’d expected the inside of a warlock’s house to be dark and creepy with candles and wands and spell books all over the place. This room resembled nothing from my imaginings. It was warm and inviting with pale stucco walls, red ceramic tile floor, and a high beamed ceiling. Several pieces of what looked like local art adorned the walls. Brown leather couches, small tables bearing pretty stained glass lamps, and several large potted plants completed the décor.

The occupants of the room were another story.

Seated on one couch was a diminutive man with a ruddy complexion and small pointed ears who looked suspiciously like a dwarf. Across from him, two old crones in identical gray dresses bickered quietly over something. A burly man with shaggy yellow hair held a magazine in his clawed hands. He appeared to be some kind of werecat on the verge of shifting. Next to him, a slightly balding man in a dark suit was playing with the silver-tipped cane that lay across his knees. Everyone looked up when we entered and watched us curiously for a moment before going back to whatever they were doing. There was no sign of Madeline.

To the left of the door, a pretty young Hispanic woman sat behind a desk. She smiled and beckoned us over. “Welcome to Casa Orias. Do you have an appointment?”

“I don’t have an appointment, but I have an important matter to discuss with Orias,” I told her.

She flashed her dimples. “Orias is a very busy man, and as you can see he is booked tonight. If you’ll leave me your name and phone number, I’ll add you to his schedule.” She glanced at her computer. “How about tomorrow at 5:00 p.m.?”

Jordan tapped her fingernails impatiently on the desk. “This can’t wait until tomorrow.”

The receptionist’s smile never faltered. “I understand, but everyone’s business with Orias is important. It wouldn’t be fair to the clients with appointments.”

Something told me sweet talk wasn’t going to work on this woman. I unzipped the small front pocket of my coat and pulled out a rolled-up tissue. Discreetly, I opened the tissue and let a perfect, fat diamond bounce across the polished wooden desk. The diamond had to be four or five carats, and it sparkled under the small desk lamp. Beside me, Jordan let out a small gasp while the receptionist’s mouth made a perfect O.

The phone on the desk rang and the receptionist answered it. “Yes, sir. Canceled? I do have a walk-in I could schedule instead. I’ll do that.” She hung up and smiled again. “Wonderful news. One of our clients just canceled and we have an opening tonight. Mr. Orias will see you right now.”

“What luck.” I picked up the diamond. “Lead the way.”

She walked around the desk and led us through a closed door, down a hallway, and up a flight of stairs. At the top, she knocked on a door and a male voice rumbled for us to come in. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

“Welcome,” said the man sitting behind a large mahogany desk. He looked to be in his thirties, with long black hair and sharp brown eyes. He wore a plain blue dress shirt and black pants, and he looked more like a businessman than a powerful warlock.

He looked at the four of us and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Mohiri children and werewolf pups, what an intriguing group.”

“We get that a lot.” I walked farther into the room and my power stirred, sensing the presence of a demon nearby. Warlocks kept their demons with them at all times so it made sense that Orias had one in his office. The demon felt oddly muted, as if it was under glass, but even so I could tell it was somewhere to my left. It was strange and disconcerting to be in a room with a higher demon, and I forgot to introduce myself.

Orias steepled his fingers, and his shrewd gaze shifted to me. “And how may I be of service to you this evening?”

Trying to ignore the demon, I walked forward until I stood behind one of the three visitor chairs in front of his desk. I rested my hands on the back of the chair, thinking about how to broach the subject of the reason for our visit. “I’m looking for information.”

“I know many things. What kind of information are you seeking?”

“I’m looking for someone, a Mohiri woman who has been to see you a couple of times this week. I need to find her.”

“Indeed. And does this woman have a name?”

“She probably goes by a lot of different names, but I doubt you have many Mohiri clients.”

He rested his forearms on his desk. “And what business do you have with this woman?”

“It’s personal.”

“Indeed.” Orias smiled, showing off even, white teeth. “It’s not often I have three beautiful Mohiri women visitors in as many days.”

My breath caught. “So she was here?”

“I do have a client who matches that description, yes.”

His short evasive answers were starting to annoy me. “Can you tell me where she is? It’s really important that I find her. I can pay.”

He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “I can’t give out sensitive information about another client.” I started to speak, and he raised a hand. “My clients pay well for my discretion as well as my services. It would not be good for my business if they felt like they could not trust me.”

His expression told me he wasn’t going to be persuaded to give up Madeline. I wanted to scream. I couldn’t believe we had driven all this way to the middle of nowhere for nothing.

“What kind of services do you offer, if you don’t mind me asking?” Jordan said from behind me.

“I offer many services, spells mostly. Protection and locations spells. My specialty is glamours.”

“Glamours?”

Orias smiled at her. “As you probably saw on your way in, many of my clients can’t go out in public in their natural form. My glamour spells allow them to live among humans undetected. They look and sound human for as long as the spell lasts. Of course, the stronger the spell, the shorter it lasts. Mine are very strong so my clients have to come back for a new one every month. I have many repeat customers, and I’ve found it to be a very lucrative business.”

Roland spoke up. “What if someone asked for a spell to kill someone else? Do you do those, too?”

“At one time, yes,” the warlock replied without remorse. “But I found it to be too messy, so I don’t deal in that type of magic anymore.” He waved a hand at his richly furnished office. “As I said, my current business is very profitable. It also keeps a certain warrior organization that likes to raid my peers at bay.”

I sighed inwardly. It was obvious we weren’t going to get anything useful from Orias. Hopefully, Madeline was still in the city and Kelvan could locate her again before she moved on.

Orias tapped his long fingers on his desk. “Speaking of the Mohiri, I received some very interesting news this afternoon. It seems they are looking for two of their young people, and they are offering a generous reward for their safe return. It’s not often that they reach out to their contacts in the community, so these two lost children must be very important to them.”

“All their children are important to them.” I swallowed and walked over to look at a painting to hide the panic flaring inside me.

“And imagine my surprise when two of their young people show up in my office on the same day. A coincidence, no?”

Jordan snorted. “Do we look lost to you?”

I could only muster a small laugh as I strolled toward a bookcase that held an odd assortment of books and ornaments. The demon’s presence grew stronger until it was impossible to ignore. I turned away from the shelves to find Orias watching me with a calculating gleam in his eye. It was time to get out of there.

“Thanks for taking the time to meet with –” I gasped as Orias raised a hand and the office door slammed shut behind Roland and Peter.

Roland grabbed the knob and pulled, but the door refused to open. He spun to glare at the warlock. “Not funny, dude. Open the door.”

Orias reached for his phone, looking very pleased with himself. “Why don’t you children get comfortable while I make a call? Don’t worry; you won’t come to any harm here.”

Roland, Peter, and Jordan started toward the warlock. Orias flicked a finger and the three of them suddenly found themselves sitting on the three chairs with their arms and legs bound by some invisible force. They yelled and were gagged until all they could do was struggle mutely in their bonds.

Orias glanced at me. “I only have three chairs, but you don’t look like much trouble. Behave yourself while I make this call or I’ll stick you in the closet until they get here.”

Why did everyone always assume I was the helpless one? I spun back to the bookcase, looking for something to use as a weapon. I laid my hand on one of the shelves and blue sparks danced across my skin. The demon was very close, the same demon the warlock needed to feed his magic.

I scanned the items on the shelves and my eyes lit on a small brass replica of Aladdin’s lamp. I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “How original.”

As soon as my fingers touched the lamp, I felt something move inside it. I picked up the lamp in both hands and turned to face Orias, too desperate to ponder how a powerful demon could fit into such a small space. Orias was looking through the phone book on his computer and completely ignoring me.

I let a small amount of power infuse my palms. The lamp jumped in my hands, making the lid rattle.

Orias’s head whipped in my direction and he paled slightly when he saw what I was holding. “That is very valuable. Put it down.”

More of my power surrounded the lamp, and it began to quiver and issue a faint whining sound. I ran a hand along the side. “I wonder; if I rub this, will a genie appear?”

“That… that is not a toy, you meddlesome child.” Orias’s words were stern, but he had gone a shade whiter and small beads of moisture appeared on his brow. “You don’t know what you are messing with. Set it down before you get hurt.”

“I know exactly what this is.” I gave the lamp a shake and the whining grew louder. “You have one pissed off demon in here. I’m afraid he doesn’t like me at all. Tell me, how do you fit a demon in a lamp anyway?”

Orias stood and held out his hands, which I noticed weren’t so steady anymore. “Give that to me.”

I looked at my friends to see them all watching me with a mixture of curiosity and worry. I gave them a small smile and let my power brush against the brass sides of the lamp again. The demon rumbled and I thought I could actually feel its fear. That’s new.

“Stop!” Orias cried, panting. He put a hand on the wall to steady himself, and fear filled his eyes. “Please.”

I tilted my head toward my friends. “Release them.”

Jordan sputtered and yelled the second her magical gag fell away. She jumped up from the chair and reached for her weapons… which were in the car. By the look on her face, she might not need anything but her bare hands.

“If this is how you treat clients, it’s no wonder you have that ‘no weapons’ rule,” she shouted at the warlock.

Orias ignored her. “They are free. Now please hand over the lamp.”

“Do you honestly think I am that stupid? I give you this, and you’ll have us all tied up before we know what hit us.”

“What are you going to do with it? You can’t take it.”

Jordan made a face. “There is no way I’m getting in the car with that thing.”

I touched the lamp’s ornate lid and the demon actually growled.

“Oh, be quiet,” I said to the lamp. I met Orias’s worried gaze. “You can have your pet demon back after you promise to let us go and tell no one we were here.”

“Done.”

Jordan scoffed. “You actually expect him to keep his word?”

“No. That’s why he’s going to take the White Oath.”

Orias inhaled sharply, and my friends shot me questioning looks. “What’s that?” Peter asked.

“The White Oath is the only oath that can bind a warlock to their word.” Thank you, Remy, for everything you ever taught me.

“How could you possibly know about that?” Orias demanded, not bothering to deny it. “That is something known only to my kind.”

“Doesn’t matter how I know. Are you going to take the oath?”

Anger replaced the fear in Orias’s eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it. I swear that –”

“Not so fast.” I knew the oath had to be worded right so there was no way for him to wriggle out of it. I walked over and grabbed a pen and notepad from his desk. It took me a few minutes to write something, and then I handed the notepad to him. “Read this.”

Orias pored over what I’d written, and when his mouth set in a straight angry line, I knew I’d gotten it right. “I swear under the White Oath to the following terms: I will allow Sara, Jordan, Roland, and Peter to leave this place unharmed. I will not try to harm them or bring them back once they leave here, nor will I have someone else harm them or bring them back for me. I will tell no one I have seen Sara, Jordan, Roland, or Peter, and if anyone asks about them, I will not reveal they were here. And…” He paused and scowled at me. “I will tell them how to find the woman they are looking for.”

“Brilliant!” Jordan crowed.

I hadn’t planned to add the bit about Madeline, but Orias had brought it on himself when he’d tried to turn us in. I watched him expectantly.

He gritted his teeth. “I don’t know where the woman is now, but she is headed to LA. Go see Adele at the Blue Nyx club. She knows everything that goes on in the city, and she can find anyone. That’s all I have.” He held out his hands. “Now can I please have that?”

I handed the lamp to him, and he cradled it like it was a baby. His eyes met mine. “What are you?”

“I’m just a girl looking for answers.” I reached into my pocket for the diamond and set it on his desk. “Payment for the information you gave me.”

Roland huffed. “Are you nuts? The dude tied us up. He doesn’t deserve payment.”

I turned, ignoring his outburst. “Come on, guys. Let’s get out of here.” The last thing I wanted was a powerful warlock holding a grudge against me. Anyone who could raise a demon and imprison it in a lamp was not someone I wanted as an enemy. Hopefully, the diamond would soothe his wounded ego and make up for some of the reward money he’d lost out on.

The door opened this time when Roland tried it, and we filed out into the hallway. We hurried down the stairs and along the hallway to the waiting area, all of us eager to quit this place.

“How the hell did you know about that oath thing, Sara?” Roland asked from behind me. “That was genius by the way.”

“Remy. He taught me a lot of stuff. I just never thought I’d have to use it.”

The waiting room had a few more occupants, and I knew immediately that at least one of them was a demon. It was either the short man with yellow skin and pointed ears or the young gray-skinned woman with long white hair. She glanced at us then looked away. Tucked against her side was a tiny version of her that had to be her child. I smiled at the little one, and she returned it shyly before burying her face in her mother’s sleeve.

I was halfway across the room when cold stabbed me in the chest. “Oh, no,” I uttered, looking around frantically. But the vampire wasn’t in the waiting room. He was outside and coming closer.

Jordan grabbed my arm. “What is it?”

“Trouble.” I met her eyes and said, “Radar.”

Her eyes widened and she cursed softly. “I told you it was a mistake to leave the weapons in the car. How many? Can you tell?”

“One, I think. I can’t be sure.”

Roland came to my side. “What’s wrong?”

“Vampire,” I whispered, and he let out a low growl. I’d never heard him do that in human form, and I had a suspicion he was very close to going furry.

“What should we do?” Peter asked in a low voice.

Before I could answer, the door opened and the vampire stepped into the room. He was medium height with black hair, and he wore a brown leather jacket. Fear stole my breath as his eyes passed over us on his way to the receptionist’s desk. A second later, he stopped and I saw him sniff the air. I wondered if he was picking up the werewolf scent in the room.

When I’d almost lost Nate I made a vow to destroy every vampire that crossed my path. But we were weaponless, and I had no idea how old the vampire was. The smartest thing to do right now was get out of there.

Roland’s fingers closed around my wrist. Come on, he mouthed.

Peter was the first one through the door with Jordan close at his heels, eager to retrieve her knives. I was about to follow them when there was a sudden breeze and the door slammed in my face. I found myself face-to-face with the vampire. My heart thrummed against my ribs and I let out a small scream. Someone pounded on the door, but the vampire held it shut with one hand.

The vampire let out a hiss. “A Mohiri child all alone without her protectors.” He reached for my face, and Roland growled. The vampire’s eyes flicked to him. “I am a lot older than you, pup. Stay out of this and I might not kill you.”

I tried to step in front of Roland, but he put an arm across my chest to stop me.

“Don’t touch her,” he snarled in a voice that was several octaves deeper than his normal one.

I looked down and saw dark wiry hair sprout from his arm as claws grew from his fingers. I flexed my own fingers, feeling power hum through them. Between us, we can handle this.

“Heel, dog,” the vampire spat, showing his fangs. He reached for me again.

Roland lunged at him. The vampire moved so fast he blurred, and Roland flew backward across the room to crash into a tall ceramic vase. Shards of pottery flew everywhere.

“Roland!” I turned to run to him but my arm was held in an iron grip.

“Now where were we?” The vampire stared at me with dark hungry eyes. “I had a young Mohiri once, but his blood smelled nothing like yours. It’s so sweet.”

Revulsion coiled in my stomach. I brought my free hand up between us, and it took the vampire several seconds to notice it was glowing.

“What –?”

My hand slammed into his chest and power exploded from me. His eyes widened in shock, and he let go of my arm. Before he could recover I laid my other hand on his chest and pushed another wave of power toward his heart. He didn’t go down as I’d hoped, but he wavered stiffly as if he was momentarily frozen. I’d never taken down a mature vampire, and I had a feeling this one was strong. I hit him with another blast, and he made a strange keening sound but stayed on his feet. Jesus, what did it take to kill one of these bastards?

The door crashed open, knocking us both off balance and severing my contact with him. I fell backward and landed on the two old hags, who shrieked indignantly. Mumbling an apology, I scrambled up just as the vampire gained his own footing. He wasn’t moving nearly as fast, and his confident sneer was gone as he crouched, facing Jordan, who was now armed with two long knives. Peter crowded the doorway in wolf form.

“You weren’t going to keep him all to yourself, were you?” Jordan quipped. “Friends share, Sara.”

“Help yourself.” I darted a glance at Roland, relieved to see him sitting up. He looked dazed but otherwise okay.

The vampire glared at me. “First, I’m going to take care of this little piece, and then you and I are going to get to know each other a lot better.”

“Ew! Dude, you look old enough to be her father.” Jordan twirled one of her knives. “And don’t call me a piece, you sexist pig.”

The vampire shifted his stance.

“Jordan, watch out!” I shouted.

A shriek split the air, and the vampire grabbed at the knife that had just missed his heart. His hand smoked as he ripped the blade out of his chest. He had to be very strong if he could withstand touching pure silver. He raised his hand, his intent clear. There was no way Jordan would survive a blow at such a close range.

I dove at him.

I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder, but it faded as magic surged in me. Lightning bolts leapt from my hand before it even made contact with his chest. This time, instead of drawing back for another strike, I fed more power into him. I felt it surround the demon inside him as he sank to his knees, his face frozen in a silent scream.

Something shiny caught my eye, and I turned my head to see the knife protruding from my shoulder. Bracing myself for the pain, I grasped the handle and yanked it free. Fire lanced through my shoulder, but I ignored it. I wasn’t giving the bastard time to recover. With gritted teeth I lifted my glowing hand from his chest and plunged the silver blade into his heart. He made a sound like air leaking from a balloon, and his eyes grew round in disbelief before he toppled over and was still.

“What have you done?” I turned to see Orias emerging from the hallway. He wore a look of horror mixed with shock. “Do you know who that is?”

“You mean was.” Jordan reached down, pulled her knife free from the vampire’s chest, and wiped it on his shirt. “And it’s nice of you to show up and lend us a hand by the way.”

Orias ignored her. “That was Stefan Price.”

I lifted my uninjured shoulder. “Is that supposed to mean something to us?”

“He was the oldest vampire in these parts, over one hundred and fifty years old, and very strong.” The warlock stepped into the room and stared at the dead vampire. “No one has ever fought him and lived.”

Roland limped over to us and laid an arm across my shoulders. “That’s because old Stefan never met a couple of real warriors before.”

Orias took in the state of his waiting room. “You four are nothing but trouble. You tore up my place and killed one of my clients.”

“That client tried to kill us first. Ask anyone here.” I looked around the room and caught sight of the stunned faces of the other occupants. My gaze met the eyes of the man with the yellow skin, and he jumped up and bolted for the door. Peter moved aside and the man disappeared into the night. He was followed by the two crones, who moved a lot faster than I would have expected them to.

I heard a whimper behind me, and I turned to look at the gray-skinned woman. The woman’s child clung to her neck, her little body trembling. Poor thing. I didn’t blame her for being terrified of that monster.

I walked toward them, intending to reassure the little girl, but her mother shrank away from me, holding her daughter tightly. “Please… my child,” she whispered, her black eyes glistening with tears.

“It’s okay. He’s dead.”

The woman seemed not to have heard me. She raised a hand to ward me off. “Don’t hurt us.”

Her plea stopped me in my tracks. She was afraid of me? “I wouldn’t…” I looked at my friends helplessly, but they were as surprised as I was. Facing the woman again, I took a tentative step. My fingers tingled with power. It took me a few seconds to put it all together. I stopped walking and locked my power away.

“You’re demons,” I said gently, remembering Kelvan’s reaction when he realized what Jordan and I were. Apparently, the Mohiri were known and feared everywhere.

“We’ve never hurt anyone. I promise. Please, don’t kill us.”

“No one is going to hurt you.” I knelt in front of her so she would feel less threatened. This was new territory for me. If they had been animals or some other kind of creature, I could use my power to calm their fear and earn their trust, but my power had the opposite effect on demons. “I give you my word that you and your little one are safe. What kind of demon are you?”

“She is a mox demon,” Orias said when the woman did not reply. “A very passive race, I assure you. She buys my glamour spells for her daughter, so she can attend school.”

I smiled at the woman. She didn’t return it, and I wasn’t surprised considering the situation. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about the Mohiri, but you don’t have to fear us.” I stood and looked around the room, meeting the eyes of the remaining visitors. “My friends and I aren’t here to hurt anyone.” I pointed at the dead vampire. “He was different. We kill vampires, but we don’t hurt innocent people, no matter what they are. That includes demons.”

I looked at Roland. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. What about you? You’re the one who is bleeding.”

My shoulder chose that moment to twitch, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the pain I had forgotten until now. Adrenaline is a great pain buffer, apparently. I put up a hand to cover the wound made by the knife. It didn’t feel like anything major had been hit, and the blood was already beginning to slow. I suddenly felt tired and wanted nothing more than to lie down. It felt like forever since I’d last slept.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” Jordan said. “I have something in my bag that will fix you up.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Please don’t say it’s gunna paste.”

Jordan grinned. “What else? I snagged a can before we left. I figured if I didn’t use it, you definitely would.”

I cast one last glance at the demon woman. She was rocking her child gently, and I heard her say softly, “Talael esledur.” Whatever it meant, it worked and the child stopped crying.

“I’m really sorry I frightened her,” I told the woman before I walked out.

Jordan retrieved the dreaded can of gunna paste from her backpack and laughed at my expression as I dutifully swallowed some. The stuff was horrid, but it worked amazingly fast to numb pain and speed healing. She was smart for remembering to take some. It wasn’t as if we could go to a hospital if we got sick or hurt. She got a towel from Orias to staunch the flow of blood until the gunna paste and my accelerated healing kicked in. The warlock happily provided one, and then he politely asked us to leave and never come back because we were bad for business.

“Sara, do you realize what you did back there?” Roland asked as he drove us back to the city. “That vampire was super old, and you killed him by yourself.”

Jordan and I were sitting in the back, and she laid her hand on my arm. “I have to admit, that was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen. When you pulled that knife out of your shoulder and stabbed him with it, my jaw nearly hit the floor.”

I grimaced and adjusted my hold on the towel pressed against my shoulder. “What is it with vampires stabbing me anyway?”

“At least you aren’t picking pieces of pottery out of your skull,” Roland complained. “You were amazing, Sara. Nikolas would be proud of you if he’d seen that.”

“Are you kidding? Nikolas wouldn’t let me get within ten miles of a vampire that old. And we might want to keep the whole stabbing thing between us.”

Laying my head against the headrest, I stared out the window at the dark desert landscape. I couldn’t help but wonder where Nikolas was now and what he was doing and thinking. I had no doubt Chris was with him, and they had probably scoured every square mile of Salt Lake City after he’d sensed me there. How long would it take him to figure out where we’d gone? I was sure he would eventually. If there was one thing I had learned, it was to never underestimate Nikolas.

I thought about the vampire I’d just killed and smiled sadly at the darkness. Maybe, when all of this was over, Nikolas would feel the same way about me.


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