Deadly Pursuit (A Blood Hunter Novel, #2) (10 page)

His
mood
lightened.
Yeah,
this
was
definitely
what
he
needed.
How
long
was
it
since
he’d
been
in
an
honest-to-goodness
fight?
Killing
was
his
profession,
but
his
business
these
days
always
seemed
to
be
from
a
distance,
and
it
always
left
a
nasty
taste
in
his
mouth.
Fighting
the
vamp
would
feel
good—real
good.

He
rolled
his
shoulders,
easing
the
tension
in
his
muscles,
and
heard
the
shirt
rip
down
the
back.

The
vamp’s
eyes
narrowed.
“That’s
my
shirt,”
he
growled.

“Yeah,
I
thought
it
must
belong
to
someone
puny.”
He
rolled
his
shoulders
again
and
the
material
tore
a
little
more.
Grinning,
he
stripped
off
the
rent
fabric
and
tossed
it
at
the
vamp.
“Have
it
back.
It
doesn’t
fit
anyway.”

“Nice.
Very
nice.”
Jon
heard
the
muttered
words
of
one
of
the
women
in
the
background
but
took
no
notice.
The
vamp
didn’t
try
and
catch
the cloth,
and
it fell
to
the
floor
between
them.

He
saw
the
moment
when
the
vamp’s
muscles
tightened
and
readied
himself.
Jon’s
vision
narrowed,
the
rest
of
the
room
fading
to
nothing,
his
concentration
fixed
on
his
opponent.

It
still
came
as
a
shock
when
the
vamp
made
his
move,
and
Jon
barely
had
a
second
to
brace
himself
before
the
impact.
Lightning
fast,
he
slammed
into
Jon
hard,
pushing
him
back
step
by
step,
until
Jon’s
shoulders
pressed
against
the
smooth
curve
of
the
wall.

He
took
a
deep
breath
and
lashed
out
with
his
foot,
swiping
the
vamp’s
legs
from
under
him.
The bloodsucker’s
grip
slipped,
then
tightened
again,
dragging
Jon
down
as
he
fell.

Jon
landed
on
the
bottom,
his
cheek
pressed
against
the
cool
metal
of
the
floor.
He
rolled
instantly
so
he
was
on
his
back,
just
as
the
vampire
reared
up
over
him.
Jon
clenched
his
fist
and
punched
him
in
the
jaw.
The
blow
hardly
seemed
to
register,
but
it
nearly
broke
Jon’s
hand.

“Can’t
do
better
than
that?”

Jon
gritted
his
teeth.
Grabbing
onto
the
other
man’s
shoulders,
he
smashed
his
forehead
into
the
vamp’s
nose.

Jesus.
The
guy
was
like
granite.
But
he
heard
the
crunch
of
bone
and
the
sharp
acrid
scent
of
blood
filled
the
air.

“Fuck,
that
hurt.”
The
vamp
shook
his
head
and
blood
sprayed
across
the
room.

“Don’t
look
so
pretty
now,
do
you?”
Jon
mocked.

The
vamp’s
eyes
narrowed
as
he
licked
a
drop
of
blood
from
his
lower
lip.
Then
he
raised
his
fist
and
punched
Jon
in
the
mouth.
Fuck.
A
warm
trickle
oozed
down
Jon’s
chin,
and
he
resisted
the
urge
to
wipe
it
away.
Instead,
he
bunched
his
knees
to
his
chest
between
them
and
thrust
out,
hurling
the
vamp
across
the
room
so
he
crashed
into
a
chair.
Somebody
swore
loudly,
but
Jon
ignored
everything
else.
He
rolled
to
his
feet,
charged,
and
slammed
his
head
into
the
vamp’s
belly,
and
they
crashed
to
the
floor
again.
He
was
vaguely
aware
of
booted
feet
scrambling
out
of
the
way.

They
were
rolling,
each
trying
to
get
a
grip.
Pretty
evenly
matched
in
strength,
each
tried
to
get
in
the
punch
that
would
make
a
difference.

Twisting,
Jon
freed
himself
and
scrambled
to
his
feet.
His
eyes
stung
with
sweat,
and
he
blinked.
Blood
smeared
his
chest
from
his
cut
lip,
but
the
vamp
looked
no
better.
His
nose
was
clearly
broken.

For
a
moment,
their
gazes
locked.
As
Jon
watched,
the
vamp
slowly
raised
his
hand
to
his
face
and
licked
the
blood
from
his
knuckles.
Jon’s
blood.

Ugh!

The
vamp’s
eyes
glowed
crimson
now, and the
tension
in
the
room
ratcheted.

“Rico!”

Someone
spoke
urgently
behind
him,
but
Rico
seemed
not
to
hear.
He
stalked
toward
Jon,
his
lips
curled
back
revealing
razor-sharp
fangs.

A
flash
of
primordial
fear
rolled
over
him,
but
he
held
his
ground.
Shifting
wasn’t
an
option
in
such
a
confined
space,
and
besides,
there
was
nowhere
for
his
wolf
to
run.
Instead,
he
concentrated
on
his
right
arm,
heard
the
bones
crack
and
the
claws
pop
from
his
skin
until
it
was
covered
in
thick
dark
brown
fur
and
ended
in
vicious
claws.
He
flexed
his
fingers
and
smiled.

“Come
on.
Let’s
party.”

They
circled
each
other
with
focus.
This
time,
Jon
made
the
first
move,
diving
for
Rico
and
hurtling
them
both
to
the
floor.
They
slid
along
the
smooth
surface
and
crashed
up
against
the
wall,
the
vamp
on
top
of
him,
so
close
his
cool
breath
skated
across
Jon’s
skin.
His
nostrils
filled
with
the
scent
of
death.
He
used
his
free
hand
to
grip
the
vamp’s
throat,
holding
him
off
while
he
raised
his
clawed
right
hand
and
tried
to
get
an
angle
so
he
could
rip
into
the
jugular.