The Dark-Hunters (47 page)

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered tenderly an instant before he slid his hand under her bra and cupped her breast.

Amanda hissed in pleasure as his warm fingers brushed against her flesh in slow, simmering circles. That touch branded her with desire and it was all she could do not to turn her head to his and kiss him.

“Theone,” he breathed lovingly.

“Hey!” she snapped at him. It offended her to the core of her soul that he would dare call her by someone else’s name. If he was going to grope, then he better damn well remember who it was he groped. “What are you doing?”

Kyrian tensed as he came fully awake and opened his eyes wide. The first thing he felt was the warm, soft breast that overfilled his palm. The second was the throbbing ache in his body that demanded release.

Oh shit! He jerked his hand away as if it were on fire.

What the hell was he doing?

His job was to protect her,
not
touch her. Especially not when she felt this good in his arms. The last time he’d made that mistake with a woman, it had cost him his very soul.

Amanda saw the confusion on his face as he pulled away from her and sat up.

“Who’s Theone?” she asked.

Hatred flared in his eyes. “No one.”

Okay, he didn’t like Theone while conscious, but there for a minute …

He rose slowly to his feet and helped her up. “I slept longer than I meant to. The sun is already setting.”

“Is this some weird psychic thing you have with the sun?”

“Since I live and die by when it sets and rises, yes.” He pulled her toward the door. “Now then, you said you know someone we can see about getting free?”

“Yeah, they should be home. Want me to call and make sure?”

“Yes.”

Amanda went to the desk, picked up the phone, then called Grace Alexander.

“Hey, Gracie,” she said as soon as Grace answered. “This is Amanda. I was wondering if you guys would be home tonight? I have a bit of a favor to ask.”

“Sure. My in-laws are over for a bit, but that’ll keep the babies occupied. You want to tell me—”

“Not over the phone. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“We?” Grace asked.

“I have a friend in tow, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you in a bit.” Amanda hung up the phone.

“Okay,” she said to Hunter. “She lives off St. Charles. You know the way?”

Before he could answer, Tate came in with a black briefcase in his hand. “Hey,” he said to Hunter, “I figured you’d be getting up about now. A guy named Nick came by a couple of hours ago and left this for you.”

“Thanks,” Hunter said as he took the briefcase from him. He placed it on the desk and opened it.

Amanda’s eyes bulged at the sight of two small handguns, a recoiling gun, a holster, a cell phone, three wicked-looking knives, and a pair of small, dark, round sunglasses.

“Tate,” Hunter said with a friendly note in his voice she wouldn’t have thought him capable of. “You’re the man.”

“I just hope Nick didn’t forget anything.”

“Nope, he nailed it.”

Amanda arched a brow at the strangeness of hearing modern American slang coming out of a man with such a heavy, seductive accent.

Tate nodded to them, then left.

She watched as Hunter strapped the holster to his hips, then he slid the plate back to lock a bullet in the chamber of each gun. He flicked on the safety, twirled them around, then holstered them so that his coat concealed them.

Next, he picked up a butterfly knife and shoved it in his back pocket. The other two knives went into his coat pockets and he clipped the cell phone and his PDA to his belt.

Amanda arched a brow at his weapons. “I thought only a wooden stake through the heart killed a vampire.”

“A wooden stake through the heart will kill just about anything. And if it doesn’t, run like hell,” Hunter said blandly. “Again, my lady, you watch too much television. Don’t you have a life?”

“Yes, unlike you, I have a blessedly boring life where no one tries to kill me. And you know what? I like it, and I really want to get back to it.”

His eyes glowed with humor. “All right, then, let’s go find your friend to separate us so that you can get back to your boring life and I can lead my dangerous one.”

Raking her with a hot, lustful stare, he ran his tongue over his fangs. Then he placed the sunglasses on his face.

Amanda’s pulse quickened. With those dark glasses on, he looked even more like a soulful poet than ever before. It was all she could do not to step back into his arms and demand he kiss her again.

He tucked her hand into his coat pocket with his to conceal the handcuffs, then led her out of Tate’s office and through the hospital corridor.

As he walked, she noticed his smooth, predatorial gait. His air of refinement. The man was pure, fluid grace. And that was a seriously dangerous swagger he had developed. One that drew the attention of every woman they passed.

But Hunter didn’t seem to notice as he headed out the back exit.

Once they reached the dark parking lot, Amanda gave a low whistle as she saw a Lamborghini Diablo in one of the employee spaces. The light above it glinted across the sleek black paint much like a halo. Normally, she didn’t give a whit about cars, but the Lamborghini had always been her one exception.

It must belong to a surgeon.

Or so she thought until Hunter approached it.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m getting into my car.”

Her jaw dropped. “You own this?”

“No,” he said sarcastically. “I’m stealing it with the key in my hand.”

“Good Lord,” she gasped, “you must be loaded!”

He pulled the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to give her a peeved glare. “It’s amazing how much savings you can accumulate in two thousand years.”

Amanda blinked as his words registered. Could he honestly be …

“Is that
really
how old you are?” she asked skeptically.

He nodded. “Two thousand one hundred and eighty-two years old last July, to be precise.”

She bit her bottom lip as she swept her gaze over his gorgeous body. “You look good for an old man. I wouldn’t have put you a day over three hundred myself.”

Laughing, he placed the key in the lock.

As Amanda waited for him to open the door, the imp in her couldn’t resist teasing him. “You know, they say men who drive cars like this are compensating for little”—she let her gaze roam meaningfully down the front of his body, pausing at the bulge in his jeans—“packages.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, then gave her a crooked smile that was teasing, warm, and wicked as he pulled the door up.

Before she knew what he was about, he stepped forward, overwhelming her with his masculine scent and power, then he took her hand that was cuffed to him and pressed it against his swollen groin.

Nope. No compensating there.

He dipped his head down to whisper in her ear. “If you need more convincing…”

Her breath faltered at the incredible feel of him in her palm. That was
not
a tube sock in his jeans.

He stared at her lips and cupped her face with his free hand. She knew in that instant he was going to kiss her again.

Yes, please!

“Knock, knock,” Desiderius said from the darkness.

CHAPTER 4

“Now, ain’t this a bitch,” Hunter said in an even tone as he pulled the sunglasses off and tucked them into his coat pocket. He moved with such deliberate slowness that Amanda knew it was his way of letting Desiderius know just how small of a threat the Dark-Hunter perceived him to be.

“Here I am, trying to kiss my girl, and you have to interrupt us. What, were you raised in a barn?”

With a calmness that astounded her, Hunter turned around to face Desiderius. “By the way, touch the woman—or the Lamborghini—and you’re a dead man.”

Desiderius came out of the shadows to stand beneath a circle of white moonlight. The contrasting buttery lamplight fell behind him at an odd angle, giving him a sinister appearance despite his angelic beauty.

“Nice car you have there, Dark-Hunter,” Desiderius said. “It makes trailing it to you so much easier. As for your threat, I’m already a dead man.” His perfect lips twitched into a mocking smile. “And so are you.”

Dressed in a fashionable blue pin-striped suit, Desiderius looked like a highly paid male model. His skin was golden and unblemished, his blond hair a shade lighter than the Dark-Hunter’s. His beauty was so flawless, it was almost surreal.

He didn’t appear any older than his mid-twenties. A man at the height of his sexual appeal and strength.

Amanda swallowed as a shiver of fear went up her spine. There was something insidious about a man so evil looking so sublime. The only giveaway to his real nature was the long canine teeth he didn’t bother to conceal when he spoke.

“I almost hate to kill you, Dark-Hunter. Unlike the others I’ve bested, you have such an amusing sense of humor.”

“Well, I try.” Hunter placed himself between them. “Now, why don’t you make this a bit more interesting and let the woman go?”

“No.”

Out of nowhere, they were attacked.

Amanda heard a sharp click.

Grabbing her hand that was bound to his so that he wouldn’t hurt her during the fight, Hunter caught the first golden vampire with the toe of his boot. As the vampire vaporized into a cloud of dust, she realized the click had been the blade in his boot being released.

The blade instantly retracted.

With a move straight out of Hollywood, Hunter clipped another vampire with his elbow, then sent him flipping head over heels onto the ground. In one lightning-fast action, he knelt, twirled open a butterfly knife, embedded it into the Daimon’s chest, then twirled it closed as the vampire evaporated.

Hunter rose to his feet.

A third one came from the shadows.

Acting on instinct, Amanda whirled and kicked him back with her leg. She caught him in the groin and sent him to the ground, whimpering.

Hunter arched a brow at her.

“Black belt in aikido,” she said.

“Any other time, I’d kiss you for that.” He smiled, then looked past her shoulder. “Duck.”

She did and he tossed a knife straight into the chest of another vampire. The vampire vanished into black vapor.

Hunter pulled the gun out of its holster. “Get in the car,” he ordered, pushing her toward the driver’s seat.

Her entire body quaking from adrenaline, Amanda got in as fast as the handcuffs and his hold on her hand would allow. She climbed over the gearshift, into the passenger seat, while Hunter fired at the vampires.

He got in behind her, closed the door, and started the car.

Good Lord, Hunter was amazing, and perfectly calm. She’d never seen anything like it in her life. He was totally unruffled.

Another beautiful, blond vampire jumped on the hood as Hunter put the car in reverse and hit the gas. His fangs bared, the vampire tried to punch through the windshield.

“Didn’t I tell you
not
to touch the Lamborghini?” Hunter groused an instant before he cut the wheel and sent the vampire flying through the air.

“And they told me you guys couldn’t fly,” Hunter said, straightening out the car and heading for the street. “I guess Acheron needs to update the handbook.”

Amanda realized there were two cars after them.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed, placing her hand on his thick, masculine wrist to allow him as much mobility as she could while he shifted gears. This was getting ugly and the last thing she wanted was to interfere with whatever he had to do to get her safely out of this.

“Hold tight,” Hunter said as he turned the radio on, and accelerated.

Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “That Smell” blared as they whipped out of the parking lot, into traffic.

Her entire body rigid, Amanda started praying the Rosary even though she wasn’t Catholic.

“Lights!” Amanda shouted as she realized he was driving in total darkness and his windows were tinted far past the legal limit. “Lights would be very good right now!”

“Since they hurt my eyes to the point I can barely see, no they wouldn’t. Trust me.”

“Trust you, my left foot,” she snapped, using her free hand to hold on to the seat belt like a lifeline. “I’m not immortal over here.”

He laughed at that. “Yeah, well, in a bad enough car wreck, neither am I.”

Amanda gaped. “I really hate your sense of humor.”

His smile widened.

They went speeding through the crowded New Orleans streets, weaving in and out of lanes until she thought she’d be sick with fear. Not to mention a couple of times when she was sure her hand would be wrenched off by his movements.

Swallowing, she did her best to keep her nausea at bay while she braced herself against the dash.

A huge black Chevy pulled up beside them and tried to run them into a tractor-trailer. Grinding her teeth, Amanda bit back a scream.

“Don’t panic,” Hunter said over the music as he cut the wheel to move underneath the semi. He gunned the engine. “I’ve done this a lot.”

Amanda couldn’t breathe as they entered another lane where a red Firebird waited to try and ram them. The Dark-Hunter narrowly missed a parked car.

Amanda’s panic was so severe all she could do was gape. And pray. She did lots and lots of praying.

By the time they reached the interstate, Amanda had seen her entire boring life flash before her eyes. And she didn’t like what she saw.

It was way too brief. There were a lot of things she wanted to do before she died—including getting her hands on Tabitha and beating the snot out of her.

Suddenly, the black Chevy was back, trying to run them off the road. Hunter hit the brakes and jerked his car over. They skidded sideways.

Her stomach lurched.

“You know,” Hunter said calmly. “I really hate Romans, but I have to say their descendants make one fine automobile.”

He shifted and accelerated again, flying past the Chevy. They jumped the median, drove across oncoming traffic, and went down an exit so fast that all she could see was a flashing blur of lights.