“So why don’t you go home?”
She shrugged. “Nothing to do there for me. It’s more interesting here. Iconia’s pretty pissed. I would have figured she did it.”
“The bite marks are too deep. Too vicious. It had to be a male.”
“Well, I only meant she had the best motive.”
“A rogue doesn’t need a motive.”
Reaching over to Selena, Twilight touched her dark hair. “Iconia was here the whole time dancing with that berserker, Ragnar. I might have thought she sent him after the huntress, but he hadn’t left either.”
“You were keeping pretty good tabs on everyone?”
“My life is dull. I find your world fascinating. So, yeah, I watch people a lot.”
Atreides had never noticed. The woman was an oddity, and yet she faded in the background. Every once in a while, she would catch his eye, and the way she smiled at him, he assumed she was interested in snagging his attention. He wondered if she was afraid of Iconia’s wrath. Only other vampiresses dared to entertain hope that he would show any interest in them.
Twilight sighed heavily. “I thought you didn’t care anything about humans or huntresses. In fact, a lot of people were surprised tonight. You’d better believe that you and your huntress are the talk of your kind this evening.”
Atreides gave her a harsh look and addressed the real concern. “Who left the club after the huntress left?”
“Three male vampires I didn’t know but I gave a description to Basil. Some of the others probably know them.”
Selena groaned but she didn’t open her eyes. Twilight touched her cheek. “I’m Twilight, if you ever want to talk.” She winked at Atreides and stood. “Where are you taking her after you give her blood?”
Hell if he knew. He didn’t want to return her to her family looking like this. In a couple of days, the vampire’s marks would have faded because the hunter genetics, just like a vampire’s, meant they healed from their injuries faster than humans.
The woman smiled. “Your place. Has to be because you wouldn’t trust anyone else to protect her. Maybe I can drop by tomorrow. See how she’s doing? She might want to talk to someone other than just a bunch of vampires.”
“The hunter kind don’t associate with humans either.”
“Maybe—being that she came to a vampires’ lair in the first place unlike others of her kind—she does. You’d better watch out for Iconia though. She has already told some of her friends if you take the huntress home with you, you’ll both live to regret it.”
Basil walked into the room to see what else he could do.
Atreides studied Twilight and then forced her to tell him what she knew about the huntress because he knew something more was going on with her—especially when they’d found her skulking around the parking lot.
“Okay, okay, the truth is a human named Tara Green told me to speak with Selena,” Twilight said.
"Why would a human tell you to speak to a huntress at a vampire club? Why at this one? And what were you supposed to talk to her about?" And why hadn’t she told Atreides right off the bat?
"I don't know.” Twilight shrugged. “Her sister?"
He couldn't believe it. He was beginning to wonder if Twilight and the other female human had been compelled to tell Selena to meet them at the club.
Twilight frowned. "You know, I can't remember. I was thinking Tara Green told me to go there, but now I don't know."
So Tara might have been the one brainwashed to tell Twilight to meet Selena at the club. But if Twilight couldn't exactly remember… She very well could have been also.
Atreides telepathically told Ragnar, "Find me this Tara Green woman. Bring her here to me."
"On my way."
"You're thinking a vampire compelled the women to send Selena to the club?" Basil asked.
"Yeah. It doesn't make any sense that two humans would think it would be acceptable to send a huntress to a vampire club."
“My vampire club,” Basil said.
“Right. That I frequent the most,” Atreides said.
“I’ll go see if I could learn anything else.” Looking like she might have done wrong, Twilight turned and hurried out of the lounge.
Chapter 5
Atreides didn’t know what to think as he took the huntress home with him. He kept feeling he was making a mistake in doing so, but he really didn’t want to give her up to any other vampires, and he was sure turning her over to the hunters would be even more of a mistake.
"Even though we couldn't find the huntress's car, we did find blood on the pavement, a pile of ashes, and clothes. She must have killed the vampire who bit her," Colt said.
"An ancient then." If it had been a newly turned vampire, he wouldn't have turned into ash, and the body would still be on the road. "He couldn't have turned her then, if she was able to kill him." That had worried Atreides. That she had been turned into one of them. The person a vampire turned couldn't kill the vampire. He was glad the vampire wasn’t free to injure or kill anyone else then.
But the woman’s car had simply vanished. Basil had drugged her—this time—to ease the pain while she healed. She would heal faster than a human, but Atreides didn’t want the League to know she’d been attacked by one of his kind until she was well enough to tell him more about her attacker. He had every intention of taking the bastard down himself. While Daemon was away, Atreides, his twin brother and a prince in his own right, had every authority to police their own people, if warranted.
Atreides’s staff never went to the club, yet as soon as he drove into the garage, they were there to assist. They had learned all that had happened. As much as he understood, anyway.
He knew as soon as he had seen the huntress enter the club, she would be trouble.
The bleak darkness surrounded Selena and her heels clicked endlessly against the asphalt, the soles of her feet sore, her calves tired, but she had to push on, had to keep moving until she found the vampire dance club. She had to get Atreides to help her. She wasn’t certain he would though.
She envisioned the way they had danced, their close moves, the way the heat of his body turned hers into an inferno, the way his smoldering, dark gaze had mesmerized her. She remembered the way his lips had turned up slightly, but the feeling behind his expression had eluded her. Had he been amused at her boldness? Or something else?
Then a low rumbling growl sounded behind her, and every thought of him instantly vaporized.
The wolf had moved, and he was damned close.
Heart thundering against her ribs, she couldn’t look back. The dance club was straight ahead. Another half mile. She thought.
She could make it.
She stumbled along as fast as she could in the high heeled sandals. She would never wear the blasted things again. She was afraid to attempt to run, was certain the wolf would pounce on her as soon as she did.
Another low threatening growl. He was stalking her. Keeping the same distance between them, but it wasn’t enough.
Everyone in horror movies always looked back at whatever evil stalked them. And then they would be torn to shreds, devoured alive. If she didn’t look back, he wouldn’t attack, she tried to convince herself.