Hunter's Blood (3 page)

Heat rushed to the very top of her scalp, and she squirmed. Saw Guy kissing her, he meant. Saw her rubbing against him like a cat in heat.

Anger sizzled her bloodstone. What did she care if he saw? It wasn't against the rules. "What I do in my spare time is none of your—oh!"

He spun her back to the wall, and planted one hand either side of her head. His bloodstone glowed hot, dazzling. "I didn't like it," he growled, his breath burning her ear. "Shall I tell you why?"

Her pulse throbbed with his scent, pine needles and male skin and sex. "Umm… look, why don't I just…"

He leaned closer, his big body blocking out the strobe lights. "Because you looked like you were enjoying it, Santangelo. Shall I demonstrate?" And in a shower of green sparks, he crackled his magical aura alive, and deliberately rubbed it against hers.

Electricity tingled along her every nerve. Heat spilled molten over her body, and ozone filled her nostrils, rich and stormy like thunder.

Oh, heaven. She gasped, shuddering. He was so powerful, it made her ache inside. And so bold. Hunters didn't mix magics where anyone could see. It was like getting naked in public. But he was doing it to her. And his scorching aura caressed hers hungrily, like he wanted more.

Was he drunk? Playing some cruel trick on her? Was she dreaming? She didn't care. His spelltouch felt so good, she moaned aloud, her eyes half-closed. A slick ache throbbed between her legs, and her nipples sprang so hard they hurt. "Uh huh. Umm… that's… what are you…? Oh, shit."

"Mmm, that's the look," he murmured. "I don't want that look on your face. Not unless I put it there." And he leaned in, crushing her against the wall.

Oh, shit.

His lips bruised hers, the iron-sweet taste of blood and bourbon.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit. He's kissing me. Me. For a nonplussed moment, she froze. And then his fangs caught her bottom lip, a tiny sting of blood.

She gasped, shock and desire, and kissed him back. His heady flavor dizzied her.
Sparks
danced, green and scarlet as his powerful magic mingled with hers, a sultry sigh of pleasure and shared potency. At her throat, her bloodstone throbbed afire.

A dark laugh, rumbling in his chest. "I knew it. You're a bad girl, Santangelo. I've felt you watching me all year, thinking your dirty little thoughts, and it makes me hard. I spend our classes thinking about ravishing you, and now I see you with another man and I want to rip his skin off. Shall we stop pretending this isn't happening?"

Dizziness fuddled her mind. He'd always been so cold to her. Aloof. Professional. And all along, he'd wanted to…? Either that, or you're hot, baby, let's do it was his idea of a line.

But he didn't give her time to think, or breathe. He just tilted her chin up and opened her mouth wider with his thumb, slipping it into the kiss and finding her tongue, and it felt so sexy her knees melted. And then he clenched his fist in her hair and tugged her head back, demanding her surrender.

Tingles sparkled over her body like flame, and desire flowered deep inside. Her breasts ached under her flimsy dress, and she rubbed them against him, the hard pressure of his chest on her nipples almost too much to bear. His kiss was barely controlled, his lips ravaging hers, his tongue thrusting inside her mouth like he wanted to do that to her with his cock, which oh-by-the-way strained big and hard like hot stone against her belly.

Make that very big. The thought of taking him made her weak. She was already wet for him. She wanted him to touch her there, open her and push into her, thrust hard and hot until she broke apart.

"Gina," he growled, nudging her chin up to brand kisses on her throat. He grazed her with hungry fangs, a luscious threat. "You're so fucking beautiful."

Her sex clenched hard. He'd never said her name before. Always Santangelo or cadet, or something more profane. Tonight, her name in his mouth was the sexiest sound she'd ever heard.

"Mmm." She tried to talk, but it wasn't easy when her mouth kept seeking his, her hands hungry on his body. "This is… a bad idea… the rules—"

"Fuck the rules." He bit her collarbone with a soft snarl. Blood trickled, and he licked it up, scorching. Faintness dizzied her at the thought of him sinking those razor-sharp fangs into her vein, sucking on her…

He grazed her aching nipple with his thumb, cupping her breast possessively. "You don't play around with other men, hear me? You're mine."

Indignation stung through her desire. What did he think, that after making her life an over-worked, under-praised torment for an entire year, he could just walk up, pull his tall-dark-and-fuck-me-gorgeous act and have her declare eternal servitude?

But damnation if it wasn't working. Her tongue was torn between go to hells and oh heaven, yes please. Her reason faded in a hot shimmer of desire, and she fought for her senses. Someone might see. She'd get expelled. She should push him away, apologize, get away from him before she did something even stupider.

But she just wrapped her fists in that sinful black hair and yanked him onto her. She wanted him, and by the seven hells, she'd have him, if he was willing.

He kissed her harder, more urgently, sucking hard on her tongue. She moaned into his mouth, wanting more. He cupped her ass and lifted her. Her back slammed into the wall, and he pulled her legs around him. "Ride me. I want to feel you."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she locked her ankles together and arched, pressing into him. Static crackled between them like magical lightning, and it was beyond delicious. The hair lifted on her arms, every sensation magnified, every kiss and caress an explosion of pleasure.

The sensitive flesh between her legs throbbed, and tension coiled her belly tight. She gasped. Oh, hells, I'm gonna come right here. She could feel how hard he was for her, and when she slid herself against him, his body jerked.

He growled into her mouth, a deep vampire groan of hunger that made her pulse race. "Say it, Gina. You're mine."

She bit his tongue, hard, and blood sizzled. Delirious, she sucked, the glorious hot-metal taste coating her mouth. "Yes," she panted. "Now. Make me yours."

He dragged her skirt up, reaching for her. Her flesh ached, and she held her breath in anticipation.

And then his phone rang.

His fingers halted. He banged his forehead into the wall, closing his eyes. "Fuck."

"Don't answer it." She shuddered, on the edge. Just one touch…

"I have to. I'm on call." He dug the phone from his pocket and flicked the screen. His breath was deep and ragged against her chest, his other hand still cupping her ass. "Yeah. For the record, your timing sucks."

He listened, and swore. "I understand. I'll be there." He ended the call, and kissed her, hard, before letting her slip to her feet. "I have to go."

Shaking, Gina rearranged her dampened dress. She couldn't look at him. She'd been totally swept up in the moment, and now it was shattered and she was just a dingy student again. But for a few precious seconds, the first in her life, she'd felt bright. Beautiful. Alive.

Her heart trembled, terrified. Heaven save me, I'm falling for him. And he's getting away.

She cleared her throat, eyes down. "Umm. Demon troubles?"

"Yeah. I'll be gone a few days… Gina, don't hide. Look at me. Look what you've done to me. This is real."

She forced her gaze up.
Sparks
crackled in his night-black hair, wet strands clinging to his cheekbones. His skin glowed with sweat. His blazing green eyes flashed crimson with desire, and his bloodstone pulsed like a red-stained sun. She knew she must look the same. But he'd tugged his magical aura in tight, and she couldn't feel him anymore.

She swallowed on his blood's rich flavor, and shrugged, trying to keep it light. "One day I'll fight at your side. I wish I was going with you."

He ground his hips against hers, another breathless kiss. "Soon, you'll be coming with me," he whispered into her mouth, and the promise shivered straight to her sex. "Hard and loud. We aren't finished, Gina Santangelo. When I return, you'll be mine."

And he raked his thumb across her kiss-raw lips, and spun away.

That was the last she saw of him for five years.

Chapter Four

Gina crept down the dark alley, hand on her knife. Sweat trickled down her neck and into the braid hanging over her shoulder. Her vampire night-sight flashed green over spray-painted walls, trash cans, rats, the garbage littering the pavement. Chinese paper lanterns hung limply on wires, flickering. One grazed the top of her head, and she brushed it away with a flick of magical repulsion.

Beside her, Dragovic stalked, dark and silent. Twin swords lay cross-sheathed across his broad back, the curled copper hilts within easy reach at each shoulder, and a knife was strapped tight to each thigh. His black hunters' leathers gleamed under the lanterns, dark and dangerous, his massive arms bare under buckled shoulder guards. Demon ichor would burn through metal or Kevlar in seconds. Even tempered-steel weapons were vulnerable, and had to be spelled, at substantial cost of magical energy. Leather fared no better, but at least it was light, and gained you precious seconds to cut the buckles and tear it off before the caustic ichor melted your flesh to the bone.

His bloodstone flared as he reached out with his magic, searching for the tell-tale signs of a demon's passing. Effortlessly, he engaged the mental link they all used when hunting. His voice crept into her mind, soft but clear. Talk to me, people. Anything?

Nothing, boss. Colleen, her Irish accent drawling.

Not a whiff. Guy, cool and relaxed. He and Colleen hunted a dozen city blocks away, quartering the area. Since the Academy, Gina and her classmates had forged a close team. Normally, she and Colleen hunted together. To have a stranger in the psy-link felt weird.

Keep looking. Dragovic's voice cut sharp. I'm reading spikes in the hellflux. Probably a gang of hellcrushers, or at least a fifth-level prince if there's only one. Samhain is demon happy hour, so watch your partner's back. And if you see something, drag it out and skewer it. Don't play smart-ass hide-and-seek games and get yourselves killed. He flicked Gina a fiery 'that-means-you' glare.

She glared back, defiant. Like he'd never prolong a hunt just for kicks.

He held up his hands, the universal 'don't-punch-me' gesture, but a tiny smile curled his lips.

She ignored him, and concentrated, sliding her magical senses along the hellflux. With her night-sight, she could see it, swirls of pulsing light and static. She could see Dragovic's magic, too, subtle like a neon-green spider's web across the hellflux's surface. He had an effortless, arrogantly delicate touch that set her teeth on edge. Was he trying to impress her? Well, she was impressed. Not that she'd ever show it.

Nothing, she sent across the psy-link. Scars, a few pinpricks. But it's all old. Nothing like this spike you're on about.

Let's poke a bit harder, then. Touch me.

"What?" She realized she'd whispered aloud.

"Mingle with me. See if we can't tempt the bastard out with some juicy fireworks."

"Oh." She flushed. Demons were attracted by magic. She knew that. "Sure. Just a sec." She inhaled, closing her eyes, and let her magic spread.

Her bloodstone heated, tingling, and her skin ignited with eerie sensation. Deftly she pushed her influence outwards, magical feelers stretching, reaching …

Believe, he whispered. The magic feeds on your confidence. If you don't believe, it won't work.

I know that. A flicker of irritation.

Knowing isn't the same as doing. Try harder.

Gina gritted her teeth, and tried again. Fragrant warmth spread inwards, flowing deep inside her body. Her skin heated in a rush like fierce desire. Her pulse thudded, and she became aware of his heartbeat, pounding deep into her core like he held her in a fierce embrace.

Better. His sigh filled her lungs, and they were one.

Power rushed along her nerves from root to tip, bursting out her fingertips like invisible lightning. Her senses shuddered, sensitive. Her night-sight brightened to blinding. Scents staggered her, hot concrete, blood, her own sweat, the warm leather on his body, his still-sheathed swords, the gorgeous pine-needle fragrance of his hair. Night's caress pleasured her, the hellflux's taut warmth lapping over her body like a hot bath.

She exulted, stretching her hands to the sky. Yes. This was where she belonged.

His thoughts flashed though her mind, his magic-sharpened vision, the ancient vampire blood throbbing in his veins, his deep awareness of her through hot male eyes that lingered and caressed, consuming her with unflinching desire.

Desire for her blood. For her body. For her.

She shuddered, and let her breath rush out. She'd never mingled with a Hunter of his extraordinary power before. It was like sex. Heaven help her if he ever actually laid a finger on her. If they melded fully, magic and body and blood…

Now, she knew he wanted to lay much more than a finger. Wanted her blood. Her flesh. Her magic. And it inflamed her beyond reason.

Heat filled her belly as he laughed, deep and dark. Did you ever doubt it?

She whirled, and anger whiplashed from her fingertips, stinging him like an electric slap in the face. He couldn't have her magic. No man could. "Hands off, Hunter. You had your chance with me. I'm not a little girl you can toy with anymore."

"You most certainly aren't—hells, get down!" In one smooth move, he unsheathed one wickedly curved sword and dived headlong, blade scything.

And inches above her head, the hellflux ripped open like rotting flesh.

He crashed into her, knocking her off her feet.

His sword flashed, and hot demon ichor splashed like caustic green ink. The stink of dead flesh clogged her throat. A vile screech rent the world ragged. And together they tumbled to the ground, the breath squashing from her lungs.

Damnation, he was fast. She'd not sensed a thing.

For a moment, his weight pressed down on her, a delicious threat. Magic crackled, magnetic. Their gazes locked, and the smolder in his eyes sizzled desire deep into her belly.

Then, he was on his feet. She dived after him, all instinct and reflex. Her knives sprang into her hands, and she threw herself skywards at the rift, grasping into hell with magical fingers for stinking demon flesh.

But the creature was gone, only an evil cackle echoing in its wake.

She somersaulted and landed on her feet, flipping her knives away with a curse. The pool of ichor was sizzling a steaming hole in the concrete, and she neutralized it with a splash of sparks from her fingertips. "It got away."

"Not for long." He hurled a handful of magical green glitter through the dripping rift, and it shot like a missile after the demon, leaving a faint trail of sparks. "That should track it for a while." The air whispered as he reached out across the psy-link, long-distance. Drake, O'Hara, listen up. That god-awful screeching you hear is a level seven, heading south between East and Fortitude. It's a little pissed-off right now, so watch your six.

Copy. Guy's voice was laconic. You two got it over with yet, or what?

Tee hee. Gina gave Guy a mental flip-off, and he laughed and severed the link.

She scowled, and sealed up the rift with an angry splash of power. She never lost her quarry. And she didn't want Dragovic's help. Even if he had sort of saved her butt back there. She rounded on him, fury crackling in her fingerbones, and tore her magic free so he couldn't touch her anymore. "Don't ever do that again."

He shook stinking green blood from his sword and sheathed it over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I thought I just saved your ass?"

"Are you kidding? If you hadn't distracted me, I'd have smelled that demon coming."

"I did distract you, then." His eyes glittered, satisfied.

She flushed. No use denying it. They'd mingled. He'd felt everything she was feeling, all her longing and desire. "Give it a rest. There's nothing between us."

He stalked closer, silent and dark like she was prey. "That's not what your body tells me."

Slowly, she backed away, her senses clamoring in alarm. Brick wall to the left. Brick wall behind. He was forcing her into a corner, with no escape. All her professional instincts screamed at her to whip out a weapon and strike. She was accustomed to being the hunter, not the hunted. Ever since he'd left, she'd learned: in both hunting and love, the best form of defense was attack.

But the predatory way this man looked at her stabbed heat deep inside. The thought of surrendering to his desire, letting him dominate her, made her shiver, and her nipples hardened, straining against the leather. She wanted him to touch them. Lick them. Suck them into his mouth and bite.

Heat slicked between her legs. With his vampire senses, there was no way he couldn't smell her arousal. Her pulse raced, and she swallowed, dry. "So you're a man, and I'm a woman. It doesn't mean anything. Aren't you with Nyssa now?"

"Nyssa? Are you serious? She's known me for seventy years and now she's the ice queen. Thinks I'm a psychotic hellmonger bent on apocalypse. Why do you think you're on this mission, if it isn't to report on what I do? And don't change the subject. Last time I touched you, you liked it."

Memory flooded. His scorching kiss, his hard body between her legs, his whispered words that fired her blood and had haunted her dreams ever since. And all the resentment she'd ever felt towards him came crashing back in a black wave. "You had no right to touch me! I was just a girl. I looked up to you. I was… flattered."

She flushed. Flattered, my ass. Try 'bewildered', or 'salivating'. That works. Bastard.

"I would have said 'aching for it'. And you felt like one hell of a woman to me."

She tried to step away, but he'd trapped her. Rough bricks rubbed her back. He traced his thumb down her cheek to the corner of her lips, provoking erotic memories. She wanted to slip his thumb into her mouth. Instead, she averted her face. "Don't do that."

"You've got a weapon. Stop me if you don't like it. You know what I think?"

"Look, Dragovic, I really don't care—"

"Luka, please. We're not in school anymore." His finger traced the V of her vest, down into her cleavage. "What a shame."

She wanted to press her breasts into his palm. "Whatever. I still don't care what you think."

He smiled, dark with promise. "I'll tell you anyway. I think you're still back in that club, where I left you. Teetering on the edge. Unsatisfied. You've been waiting for me to get you off for five years. And nothing's ever been good enough since. Am I right?"

Fury rippled her muscles tight. "You son of a bitch. You fed me pretty lies so you could get laid. And then you walked out on me before you got the chance to finish." You broke my heart, she wanted to say. But she didn't dare.

His eyes shadowed, dangerous, his fingers clenching on her shoulder. "Did I, now?"

"You walked out on us all! We thought you were dead. Everyone insisted you were a traitor. I thought…" She gulped, overcome. She'd assumed he'd lost interest in her. More likely never interested in the first place, except for her magic.

"I can guess what you thought. Did you ever think to wonder why? To ask where I was?"

"You never gave me the chance! You could at least have called to tell me you didn't give a shit."

He leaned closer, sniffing her, and snarled softly, fangs springing sharp. "Look at me, Gina. Scent me. See what you do to me, and tell me I'm lying when I say I thought of you every hour of every hell-cursed day."

"What do you mean?" Her heart clenched. But she couldn't resist inhaling in turn. His hot male scent dizzied her, rich with blood and desire and the sharp sweetness of truth.

"I was in hell, Gina." He forced the words out, tense, stained with blood and pain. "The night I left you, we went hunting. We stumbled on a demon soulforge, hellspawn everywhere, souls dripping like blood down the walls. It was horrific. We were overwhelmed, and a demon prince trapped me. Kept me there, and… played with me."

She stared, her eyes misting. Hunters were the demons' sworn enemies. Nothing delighted a demon more than making a Hunter suffer unspeakable pain. "Oh, heavens. Luka…"

"It was… I almost didn't survive. But whenever the agony got too much, I shut it out and thought of you. You, Gina. You're all that kept me sane. The thought that one day, I'd hold you again. Kiss you again. Make love to you."

Gina swallowed, a hot lump clogging her throat. Emotion and tears dazzled her. He hadn't betrayed the Guild? Hadn't left her? Hadn't lied to her? Her heart ached. What she'd felt that night… could it be real?