Depraved (Tales of a Vampire Hunter #2) (20 page)

He and Miranda
rested for several days in Lobo’s underground lair, making ample use of the
spa-like bathroom and the big bed, but soon the time came when they knew they
had to leave.

“I wish you would
reconsider. Some of Azazel’s books are fascinating. I could use help going
through them all, and you’d be safer here,” Lobo said.

He’d insisted on
keeping the books, hoping to find something in the legends that might help them
end this cycle of imbalance between the worlds and put things right once and
for all.

“We’ll visit, but
for now we want more than anything to try and build a normal life together
somewhere. Thanks to you, that might be possible,” Miranda said.

Lobo hadn’t lied
when he’d told them he had spies everywhere. He’d sent word to his people
entrenched with the Ripley family and the Vladulas that Miranda and Oliver had
perished in the battle with Azazel’s clan. Word had come back that the stories
were believed and that, at least for now, no one was looking for them anymore.

As they prepared
to go, having packed everything they thought they would need into one of Lobo’s
SUVs, Lobo gave them back the silver daggers they’d used to fight Azazel. “Take
these. A
bruja
cast a spell over them that should form a shield that
will block vampires and hunters from sensing you as long as they are near.”

“I thought you
didn’t believe in that stuff,” Miranda said, smiling and taking the dagger he
offered anyway.

“Old
superstitions die hard around here. I said that too, remember?” Lobo chuckled
and gave them each a hug. “Travel safe. Be well and let your love protect you,”
he said as if casting his own spell over them.

As they drove away, Oliver hoped
Lobo was wrong and that they’d not made a mistake leaving so soon. He hoped if
push came to shove again that the things they’d learned here would help them
survive. And, for the second time since he’d met Miranda, he felt that all
would be well as long as they had each other.

Thank you to my wonderful beta
readers and friends—M.L. Doyle, Kristin Wilson, Barry and Merry Jane
Guertin—and to my husband, Ken, and daughters Eileen and Addison, for their
constant and unwavering support.

Zander Vyne is breaking genre
stereotypes; her short and long fiction has been published everywhere, though
she is best known for her erotica and horror stories. Her work has been
included in the
Best of the Erotica Readers and
Writers Association
,
Red Scream
magazine,
The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 11
and
12
and many other publications, in
print and online.

Ms. Vyne enjoys passing on her love of good books with other
writers, helping them edit their work.

She lives in Chicago, Illinois with her husband, daughter,
and an adopted Basenji mutt named Riley. When she's not writing, editing or
reading, she's probably hanging out online, cooking, knitting, or starting yet
another remodeling project.

Connect with her here:

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If you enjoyed
Depraved
,
you’ll love

Tales

of a

Vampire Hunter #3

Coming in 2014, the conclusion of the
Tales of the Vampire Hunter
series.

Keep
reading for a sneak peek!

Chapter One

“I’m tired, Daddy,” Rosie said.

“Just a little more, Sweetie.” Oliver Ripley gripped his
daughter’s hand tighter as they walked, almost ran, down the sidewalk. He
glanced over his shoulder.

The black SUV was still there. Fifth Avenue traffic was thin
on Tuesday, in the afternoon. Their pursuers were easy to spot weaving through
streams of yellow New York taxicabs. They had gained 100 feet. There were two
of them in front and maybe one in back.

“Please, Daddy! I have to potty.” Rosie’s eyes were smudged
with purple and sadder than any child’s should ever be. She couldn’t go on much
longer.

Oliver picked her up, sat her on his hip, and moved faster.

The crowd began to thin. Just what he didn’t want. But he
couldn’t turn around. A quick look confirmed they had maneuvered closer. Only a
few car lengths away.

He shifted Rosie to his other hip. She was getting to be
such a big girl. He couldn’t carry her for long. And what then?
What then?
No money. No friends or allies.
Nowhere to go, nothing to pay to get there. There hadn’t been time. It had
happened so fast. He was already on the run, though he hadn’t known it then,
when he’d gone to the bank in the morning and discovered they had emptied his
accounts. Now they were here.
Right here!

Taking her in the sparse crowd would hardly cause a stir. Or
maybe it was to be more final. If they had been watching them, they knew what
Rosie could do. They knew what she was. Maybe they were only waiting to get
them alone, like they had Miranda.

Oliver walked faster, guilt, fear and heartache slicing at
him like knives. His forehead beaded with sweat.

He should have known. They should never have grown so
complacent, so sure they were finally safe. Enrolling Rosie in school. Playing
suburban mom and dad. Forgetting. Now he and Rosie were adrift and alone, and
he no longer trusted his instincts or his ability to keep them safe. He didn’t
know who chased them—vampires or vampire hunters; his family, Miranda’s, or
something else. He hadn’t seen them coming, and he didn’t know how to fight
them. He didn’t know how soon Rosie could help again, or if she could even
bring herself to do it again. They must know that too, if they’d been watching
them.

Coming up to an intersection, the crowd thickening as it
converged at the cross streets, waiting for lights and signals, Oliver knew
this was where it would happen. Under cover of people, confusion of commuters
and tourists, they’d take them.

Oh, God, so close!
Parking
now, a quick glance confirmed, tires screeching on pavement. And finally, he
could see there were three of them as they got out and came after them on foot.
There is nothing I can do to save her.

“The cab, Daddy. Get in the cab.” Rosie lifted her head from
his shoulder, pointing at the yellow cab that pulled up next to them as if
they’d hailed it.

“Are you sure, Baby?” he asked, even as he reached for the
cab door.

“I can do one more push, Daddy. A lil’ one.”

Cradling her head in the palm of his hand, he ducked into
the taxi. Through the dingy window, he watched their pursuers break into a run
and push their way through the crowd. Oliver locked the door. “Go! Go!” he
shouted to the driver.

Rosie slid from his arms and curled up next to him, her head
on his lap. “I won’t do the bad thing anymore,” she murmured before closing her
eyes and slipping a thumb into her mouth.

“No, Baby. It’s okay. You don’t have to.” He smoothed
baby-fine strawberry blond curls from her forehead. If it came down to it, he’d
convince her to do the bad thing again. After six years teaching her not to
harm people, he would persuade her that sometimes there was just no other
choice. “Drive!” He smacked the vinyl of the driver’s seat with his palm.

“I can’t drive if you don’t tell me where you want to go,
Mister!” The gray and grizzled cabbie glared in the rearview mirror.

Jesus Christ! They’re right
here!
So close, he saw flashes of sharp incisors and the glint of steel
from their guns as they surrounded the cab. Vampires!

“Just go,” Rosie said, in her soft baby voice. “Go now!”

The hair on Oliver’s arms stood up. The energy from his
daughter, though not directed at him, still sent a frisson through him as it
streamed past and slammed into the driver.

“Keep going until my daddy says stop and don’t let the bad
men catch us.” Rosie closed her eyes.

The driver stomped on the gas
pedal, his head swiveling around to face the road again. His jaw jerked
occasionally from side to side, but he never took his eyes off the road or his
foot off the gas. He wasn’t worried about the fare. He didn’t question what a
child was doing catching cabs in the middle of a school day or why she wore
such a light jacket in January. He didn’t ask where they wanted to go. He could
only do what Rosie wished. So he drove and soon they put the city behind them.

End of Preview

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www.zandervyne.com

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Zander Vyne