The second time he saw her, he’d been visiting his sister, Kadence, in her new home. Vicky was in the gym with her brother, Aiden, at the time. She’d slipped from the gym without looking at him.
Curious about her, he’d asked Kadence what her name was, and his sister had told him Victoria, but she preferred Vicky.
Vicky was pretty with her pale blonde hair and striking emerald eyes, but he’d seen more beautiful women before. However, since first encountering her, Vicky played a starring role in many of his dreams and waking fantasies, but it seemed he only annoyed her.
He’d seen her hesitate before taking his hand. It was as if she would prefer the Savages to him, but he didn’t detect the odor of rot on her, and she was residing with Ronan and the others, so she wasn’t a Savage. For some reason, most likely because he was a hunter, she didn’t like him.
He almost reached for her hand again but refrained from doing so as he sprinted across a busy intersection with Vicky at his heels. This area of the city was still active with those looking to celebrate their Friday night. As he darted across the road, taxi horns blared, someone shouted at them, and brakes squealed.
Nathan twisted to avoid taking the full impact of a cab, but the bumper caught his leg and staggered him to the side. His hand banged down on the hood before he regained his balance and raced forward again. The people on the sidewalk stepped hastily out of their way when they left the intersection behind.
Vicky ignored the startled looks people gave them when they raced by. A woman exiting a bar had the misfortune of doing so as Vicky ran past the door. Vicky’s shoulder caught the woman’s and staggered her back.
“Sorry!” she called back when the woman fell against a brick wall.
Vicky dodged the next pedestrian and plunged into the middle of another street behind Nathan. They dashed in and out of screeching cars before fleeing down a quieter road. They left the busier business areas behind for neighborhoods that became increasingly decrepit with every block they traversed. She had no idea where they were in the city anymore, but she didn’t dare slow.
She was about to plunge onto another street when Nathan grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a seedy-looking building with plywood nailed over two of the bottom windows. Chunks of brick missing from the building’s façade looked like they’d been torn away by bullets peppering it.
He tugged her onward, but Vicky dug her heels in and refused to go any further. It wasn’t the building unnerving her; it was the man. The closer she got to him, the worse it would be for her long-term sanity and chances of survival.
Her heart thundered when he turned back and his azure eyes met hers. Emphasized by his coal black hair and his bronzed skin, those eyes were dazzling. Lean in build, his shoulders were broad, his waist tapered, and she guessed him to be six four as he stood a good ten inches above her.
She didn’t feel intimidated by his height, his stance, or the knowledge he was a hunter who only months ago would have staked her without question. Instead, she fisted her hands to keep herself from running her fingers over one of his high cheekbones before tracing his stiff upper lip and full bottom one.
His black eyebrows drew together over the bridge of his aquiline nose. His hair was cut short enough to keep it from getting in his face, but it was long enough Vicky could grip it to pull him to her for a kiss.
Ugh, as soon as she thought it, she hated herself for it, but she’d imagined doing much more than kissing this man since first meeting him.
She was so fucked and absolutely 100 percent not in a good way.
Since their first short meeting, she’d suspected this man was her mate. Never in her life had she experienced the kind of visceral reaction to another that Nathan brought out in her. She dreamed of him nightly, found her thoughts traveling to him throughout the day, and couldn’t get him out of her head.
But this man was a hunter, a race of mortals who had been the enemy of all vampires for thousands of years. That enemy status had only changed recently and could end tomorrow. The truce was tenuous as vampires and hunters still had a difficult time working together.
Not only had he been her enemy just a few short months ago, but Nathan was the leader of all hunters. He had a duty to his people, and she was certain that duty did not include being the mate of a vampire. In fact, Kadence had told her that one day Nathan would have a bride chosen for him. His fate belonged to another woman.
Which was fine for him. Living without a mate most likely wouldn’t kill him; it would eventually destroy her. If she kept her distance from him, she’d be able to handle the bond between them not being completed better, but the more time they spent together, the more she risked the mate bond deepening, and that could never end well for her. A vampire needed to complete the bond with their mate; if not they went insane or died, and she doubted Nathan would willingly hand his throat, and his life, over to her.
His hand on her arm tightened when something down the street clattered. “Inside!”
Spending more time with Nathan was at the bottom of her list of things to do, but she suspected a fate worse than death awaited her if she remained on this street.
Reluctantly, she followed him up the cracked, concrete steps. He pulled open the sagging, wood door of the building and gestured for her to enter before closing the door behind them.
Vicky stopped when she saw the hallway. Over the years, the dirt from people’s hands, cigarette smoke, and other assorted things had smudged the gray walls a dirty brown. The stench of stale smoke, alcohol, and the acrid scent of drugs mingled with cooking human food and body odor in such a way that she’d rather smell the Savages than this place.
Cigarette butts, nip bottles, needles, baggies, food wrappers, numerous other garbage, and rodent droppings littered the torn gray carpet. Closed doors lined the hall, and a set of stairs rose to her left.
From behind one of the doors, a TV blared so loudly it made her eardrums ache. Behind another, she heard people screwing, and inside another apartment, a man berated his wife. If she had the time, she would teach that guy a thing or two about respect for others, but the poor woman was on her own tonight.
Over the years, she’d been in worse places than this. The warehouse had been ten levels below a sty, but Nathan seemed too refined or classy or something to even know a place like this existed. Perhaps this hunter had more layers than she realized.
She mentally slapped herself when she briefly contemplated peeling those layers away to learn more about him.
“This way,” Nathan said and tugged on her arm.
“If the Savages are still close, Duke will be able to smell me. He’ll follow me here.”
“Who is Duke?” Nathan asked as he led her to the chipped, garbage strewn, wooden steps. He nudged her when she hesitated at the bottom.
“A big-time prick who I am going to kill.”
He’d been around many human women over the years, but it still surprised him to hear a woman curse or be so vehement about anything. Hunter women were composed above all else. They kept control of their emotions, remained demure at all times, and never spoke so bluntly.
Part of him inwardly cringed at such candid talk from a woman, but in Vicky’s words and tone, he sensed the same hatred propelling him in his relentless hunt for Joseph, the vampire who murdered his father.
What did Duke do to engender that kind of loathing from her?