Caught in Darkness Read online

  “Just remember that this could potentially be very dangerous,” Seth replied firmly. “We only have this lead because Robert put over a dozen vamps on the street to help us find them and one called in a sighting. If we’re cornering Richards and the Wilsons—which is the hope—then this will get bloody. And there’s no guarantee that any of Robert’s men actually know how to fight.”

  “But you do?” Veronica countered, finding herself almost disconcerted by her lack of concern in that moment for how dangerous a position she could be putting herself in.

  “Veronica,” Seth said pointedly.

  “I’m not asking you to protect me,” she elaborated, turning her gaze to the side window. “I just want to know how much I should be worried about you.”

  Seth was quiet for a beat as the weight in the air started to lift and he made another turn before replying, “It’s not me you need to worry about.”

  She turned her eyes back to him, sensing that he was watching her though his head hadn’t turned, and smiled gently. Reaching out, she let her hand land lightly on his bicep and gave a squeeze as she said, “Okay.” Her lips lifted, forming a teasing grin, and she added, “I’m not worried about me, either. I’ve still got my pepper-spray in my purse.”

  Her joke seemed to do the trick, at least for a moment, because she definitely caught the reflexive twitch of his lips. “Good,” he said.

  ****

  Bringing Veronica was a terrible idea. It was, in fact, arguably one of the worst decisions he’d made in his entire existence. But the woman had the strangest effect on him and he’d found himself physically unable to disappoint or upset her. Sure, he would rather have her angry with him than injured for any reason, but she had sounded so sure that he’d let her convince him beyond all sense of reason. And though his reason was finally beginning to return as he pulled up to the recently-closed bakery it was far too late. He just had to hope this didn’t end in disaster.

  “An old bakery? Really?” Veronica asked beside him, her eyes glued to the building in the back of the small parking lot.

  “And, likely, the apartment above,” Seth supplied as he tried to focus. The bakery was actually a surprisingly good idea. It was only a couple of blocks away from Robert’s penthouse, and therefore in the heart of the Family’s personal downtown. If they really were holed up here, then it was hardly a surprise no one had found them yet. No one would think twice if they sensed another vamp or three in the area. He could kick himself for missing such an obvious possibility.

  “I don’t get the impression that this seems as random to you as it does to me,” Veronica declared, lifting a delicate brow at him with a silent question.

  That was an open door he very nearly walked through before his brain reminded him of all the danger she could find herself in with that knowledge rolling around in her head. Still, he knew better than to think she’d drop it outright, so instead he reached for his door and said, “It doesn’t, but right now that doesn’t matter. Grab your pepper spray, keep your phone in your pocket, and leave the purse in the car.”

  Veronica released a breath but refrained from further comment as she quickly complied and followed him out of the car. She met him in front of the car a second later and he nodded at her before turning his gaze outward.

  The lights were off inside the old bakery—at least from what he could see through the front-facing windows. Two more vamps, both from Robert’s personal security team, were walking up the sidewalk toward them. He could tell that they were eyeing Veronica curiously, but he merely nodded at them before returning his attention to the building. There was definitely the scent of vampire heavy in the air, indicating recent activity, but he couldn’t decide if that made him hopeful or anxious. He didn’t really want to end up in an altercation with Veronica anywhere near the line of fire.

  The two vamps came to a stop just out of arms’ reach of Veronica and the taller one said, “Interesting company you’re keeping, Hunter.”

  “She’s a friend,” Seth replied shortly, shooting the younger vamp a warning glare through his sunglasses. “Where’s Thompson?”

  The other vamp—shorter and older than his companion—replied, “Haven’t heard from him since he called in the sighting. But he said he saw Troy letting himself in through the front door.”

  Seth inclined his head. If Thompson had vanished already then he’d probably tried confronting the older Wilson brother—if not all three vamps—on his own. That wasn’t likely to end with good results.

  “So,” the taller vamp began, shifting his weight pointedly, “are we just gonna stand out here and chat or are we going in?”

  Impatient or not, Seth knew the other vamp had a point and again he nodded. He turned his attention to Veronica, who had been watching them all quietly, and said, “Stay by the car. Holler if someone comes outside.”

  Veronica narrowed her eyes at him, her defiant refusal bright and undeniable, but the sudden stench of old blood was suddenly assailing his nose and drawing his attention even before the accompanying outcry had reached his ears. The voice was male and slightly distant—muted by the walls between them. It was coming from the apartment above the bakery.

  “What was that?” Veronica asked, now-widened eyes staring up at the building in shock.

  “A scream,” the taller vamp bit out sarcastically.

  Seth cut a glance back at her and commanded, “Stay.” Without a second thought he charged forward, the other two vamps hot on his heels, and rammed his foot into the door of the bakery. It popped off without difficulty and by the time it settled on the floor several paces back he had already dashed past it, headed for the stairs that led to the apartment.

  The inside of the apartment was a mess. What sparse, old furniture there had been was tossed around and broken without care, and the floor and walls were dotted with spots of dark, dried blood. What drew Seth’s attention first, however, was the body currently impaled to the floor to the left of the door.

  It wasn’t one of the three traitors, which led him to assume that it was Thompson, and there was a slender, pointed piece of wood sticking out of his chest. A slim trail of blood had leaked out, around the point of impact, and discolored Thompson’s blue shirt. His skin was just beginning to gray, indicating that he had probably been the one to scream—a vampire’s skin turned gray and wrinkly within minutes of their death. There was nothing to be done for him.

  “Slayer!” the taller vamp hissed from just beyond Seth’s shoulder.

  Seth turned his attention from the decaying corpse of a vamp he’d never known and let his eyes land on the Slayer he’d run into nearly a week before. So much for hoping he’d already skipped town. “What are you doing here?” Seth demanded, reigning in his frustration. None of the traitors were there, but his instincts were screaming that they had been. The Slayer’s interruption had probably been how they’d gotten away.

  “Killing vampires,” the Slayer responded, turning his reloaded crossbow toward them. “Seems I’ve hit the mother-lode.”

  The inexperienced vampires behind Seth bared their fangs at the man and hissed angrily, clearly letting the Slayer’s words—as well as their Family member’s death—rattle them.

  Seth released a calm breath, noting that the Slayer was sporting a nice new cast on his broken wrist. He only wished that was stopping the man from being able to use his crossbow, but apparently the Slayer was ambidextrous. That could be a problem.

  “Now,” the Slayer began cockily, “which one of you freaks wants to die next?”

  “I’ll tear out your throat, fool!” the impulsive taller vampire snarled the instant before he dashed forward.

  Seth growled in frustration as the Slayer squeezed the trigger, calling, “Move!” He threw himself to the side, easily dodging the wooden projectile, and he noticed that the shorter vampire had managed to do the same. But the taller vampire was not so lucky, and Seth was forced to watch as the first spear lodged in his right shoulder, sending him sprawling ba
ckwards with a cry of pain. The Slayer immediately loaded the next spear—which had already been waiting in his injured hand—onto the crossbow, swung it toward the taller vampire’s partner, and fired again.

  The older vampire clearly had a little more practice with Slayers, as he threw himself forward and low, letting the spear sail over his head to impale the wall even as he closed in on the Slayer. Seth used the distraction to dash over to their fallen comrade and yank the wood from his shoulder, thereby allowing the wound to heal on its own. But he was distracted, and the mixed scent of blood in the air was filling his nose. He didn’t realize Veronica had disobeyed and followed them up until he heard her startled, choked gasp.

  ****

  Veronica watched, frustrated, as Seth and the nameless vampires rushed into the bakery after the short-lived scream that had come from above. He’d told her to stay, and she knew why. She even understood. But she didn’t like it. I didn’t ask him to bring me out here so that I could wait by the car. Of course she knew that, in a fight against a vampire, she was far from likely to come out the victor—especially twice in a row. That didn’t stop her from wanting to be up there, if only so that she could watch with her own two eyes as Mandy’s murderers were brought to justice. He’ll have to understand.

  She was moving forward even before she’d consciously made the decision. By now, of course, she’d lost sight of Seth and the others, but she wasn’t worried about getting lost. And she’d be lying to say she hadn’t been at least a little impressed as he’d kicked down the bakery door. Sure, he was a vampire and so obviously he had more strength than an ordinary person—she knew that. But it was so sexy to watch. She even smiled a little as she passed the now-broken door. And when she reached the staircase in the back, nestled behind an already-open door, she took the stairs two at a time in her haste to see what was happening above.

  She wasn’t expecting the sight that greeted her.

  Her eyes landed for a second on the gray-and-wrinkling body of a vampire (she assumed) that she’d never seen before, an-honest-to-god wooden stake protruding from his chest. Then her attention was drawn by movement just off to the other side of the doorway and she was frozen with confusion and a different type of fear.

  The taller, impatient vampire who had greeted them below was lying on the floor with a wooden stake in his shoulder—though Seth was in the process of tearing it out—and the other vampire was struggling with someone else she’d never seen. He had a cast on one wrist, a crossbow just behind his feet, and he looked like a man who had aged more than his years. Veronica knew in an instant, somehow, that he was entirely human. And before she could find the confusion to put with that realization she came to another: this man was a Slayer.

  A cold, tight, uncomfortable feeling began wrapping, slowly, around her heart. This man had already killed one vampire, injured another, and was trying to kill a third. He would surely target Seth as soon as he was able, and though she had absolute faith in Seth she didn’t even want to see him risk losing that fight.

  But she barely had time to dwell on that before, as she watched, the Slayer pulled an apparently-sharp machete from the inside of his coat and swung. The shorter vampire was in too close, and realized too late, to dodge. Veronica watched, horrified, as his head rolled off of his shoulders as if in slow-motion. His body crumpled, blood spurting and trickling from the shoulders where his neck should have been, and she heard a startled, choked gasp. It wasn’t until Seth’s head had snapped up, swinging toward her, that she realized the gasp had come from her.

  Everything that happened after that seemed to blur.

  The remaining nameless vampire cried out in horror and leapt to his feet, ignoring the injury in his shoulder as he rushed the Slayer. They struggled for a moment before the Slayer swung his machete again, forcing the vampire to throw himself awkwardly backwards in order to keep his head. With room to breathe the Slayer dropped his machete, pulled a new stake from his coat, and lifted his crossbow again. It was loaded before Veronica could blink, and then without warning it was aimed straight at her.

  Their eyes met and his hatred floored her. What had she done to deserve that? “A vampire’s whore is as good as a vampire,” he spat as his finger closed on the trigger.

  She didn’t have time to process that the Slayer had just fired a wooden stake at her heart before something heavy was slamming into her and she found herself crashing into the ground in the short hall. The heavy weight above her grunted as though in pain and it was that sound that snapped her back to her senses.

  Seth had saved her.

  In her mind’s eye she could see him spinning on his heels, leaping to his feet, and throwing himself between them with a roar that she hadn’t actually heard. And now he was holding her, covering her body with his, and breathing heavily into her hair. He wasn’t moving or speaking otherwise, but he was breathing.

  “Oh god, Seth!” she cried, finally finding her voice. She pushed against him, praying she wouldn’t see a piece of wood protruding from him, but for a long moment her efforts were in vain.

  “Are you…all right?” Seth finally asked, his voice heavy beside her ear.

  “Yes,” she replied, tears burning her eyes.

  He released her slowly then and eased up until he was kneeling beside her. Her eyes widened, her heart leaping to her throat, at the sight of the wood sticking out of his torso. It was on the wrong side to threaten his heart, but it had definitely pierced him. There was a slow trickle of blood trailing down his shirt.

  Throat tight, she whispered, “You…you’re hurt.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he grunted, the pain obvious in his voice. He reached down, wrapped his fist around the wood, and tugged it out the way a child might tear off a Band-Aid.

  Veronica had to bite her lip to keep from crying out for him, though he didn’t make a sound. The flow of blood increased for several seconds, but before it could slow there was another outcry and the sound of a body hitting the floor. She turned, horror forming a solid pit in her stomach, and watched as the Slayer stood up, crossbow held at his side. The other vampire was dead and rapidly turning gray at his feet, a stake sticking out of his chest.

  Her back was against the wall a beat later as Seth pulled her behind him, one knee on the ground and hands curled as if he was contemplating ripping something apart. And he was growling.

  There was a tense moment of silence as man and vampire stared each other down, Veronica having to angle her head just to see what was going on. There was no way she could squeeze out from behind the wall that was Seth.

  It was the Slayer who spoke first, a look of frustration darkening his eyes. “Well, vampire, it’s your lucky day. I’ve run out of stakes.” He held up his casted forearm, adding, “And we’ve already seen what happens in close-quarters with you, so if you don’t want to risk your dinner’s untimely death I suggest you let me pass.”

  Tension was heavy in the air for several more seconds before Seth growled, “Go. Before I change my mind.”

  Veronica wasn’t sure she took a breath until the Slayer had walked past them and disappeared down the stairs. Her eyes fell as the relief flooded her, but then she realized she was staring at the drying blood on the back of his shirt and her heart clenched again. “You’re still hurt,” she said gently. Had he known those vampires? Would he be sad or angry over their deaths?

  “Don’t worry about it,” Seth grunted, turning and moving forward enough to give her a little personal space.

  He was going to play it off for her sake, she just knew it. And she wasn’t going to have it. “No,” she said firmly, “I’m going to worry about it until it’s better.”

  “There’s no point,” Seth argued, pushing to his feet and holding out a hand for her. “I need to call this in, and then we can get the hell out of here.”

  She released a breath, allowed him to help her up, and nodded. He was standing and talking properly, so it wasn’t critical, which meant she could let him do what he ne
eded to. But then he was going to let her help him—if she could—and they were talking about what had happened here.

  Chapter Nine

  “Should you really be driving?” Veronica asked as they made their way back toward her house. They had ended up having to wait a few minutes, to make sure that the vampires took control of the scene before any humans stumbled across it, but then Seth had taken her hand and guided her to the car. And she spent each agonizing second sick with worry over how badly injured he might really be. She knew, from what he’d told her, that wooden stakes were enough to kill vampires—but did it have to pierce their hearts? Or could it kill them slowly with wood-blood poisoning?

  “It’s not that bad,” Seth said calmly. His voice was stable and his hands appeared to be steady on the wheel, but she had no way of knowing if he really was fine or if he was just putting on a show. Her instincts insisted it was the latter.

  “You didn’t really answer the question,” she pushed, shifting in her seat to face him better.

  “I’m fine to drive, I promise,” Seth replied. He slid a sideways glance to her, clearly knowing she was staring at him, and offered her a strained smile as reassurance.

  “You can’t be ‘fine’,” she declared firmly, “you were stabbed with a stake.”

  “I know,” Seth began, his covered eyes back on the road, “but I am. Vampires heal much faster than humans.”

  Veronica straightened in her seat, knowing they were close to her house, and said, “I hope you know you’re coming inside when we get there.”

  “If that will make you feel better,” Seth promised. This time there was a strange combination of frustration and amusement in his voice.

  “It will.” Because once she got him inside she could actually look at him and inspect the wound to her satisfaction. She wanted to see what his definition of ‘fine’ really was. There was just so much blood…. At the very least, with the amount of blood he’d lost, she was sure he’d be feeling weaker than usual. He would need to eat something to—oh, right. He didn’t exactly ‘eat’ the way she did.