“Despite what the situation here might appear like, you’d lost a good deal of blood last night and collapsed in a faint in the dance club’s lounge, then needed blood.”
“Blood,” she said, reaching for the back of her head.
He pointed to her neck. “A vampire bit you.”
“No,” she said with a muffled grown. “He struck me on the back of the head also.”
Frowning, Atreides drew close and touched her head and felt the dried blood and a lump. “Sweet Jesus.” Instantly his blood burned with rage. The beast could have killed her. He examined the injury more carefully but was glad to see she wouldn’t need any stitches. “None of us had seen your injury.” Which had to do with how thick her hair was and that the blood had already coagulated. But he still faulted himself for not discovering that she’d been injured further. No wonder she’d been so out of it. She no doubt had suffered a mild concussion.
“We assumed he’d just drained you of too much blood.” He let out his breath. “I take it you didn’t see him,” he said more harshly than he’d intended. He couldn’t get his anger under control, seeing a red haze, wanting to kill the bastard who could bring hunters in the region down on all of them—not knowing who had done this to the huntress, and not caring. Though he thought from the pile of ashes left behind, she had killed the vampire.
Any vampire would be suspect though, who had injured her, if they couldn’t prove the ashes belonged to her attacker. Any could be murdered in the name of protecting their huntresses.
“I saw a wolf.”
“A wolf?” he asked.
“I-I thought I’d hit something on the road with my car. I stopped to see if I could help. When I couldn’t find anything, I turned around and found a wolf in front of my car.
"He was a wolf? The vampire was a wolf?"
“I thought at first he could be a real wolf, a wolfdog, or I don't know. Then I worried he was a vampire. He wouldn’t let me get near my car, and I finally decided to walk back to the club and ask for your help.”
Damnation. The vampire had been the worst kind of renegade, taunting and stalking its intended victim. But not killing—instead, he would terrorize her until he tired of the game. Then he would finish her off. Atreides had seen it before, dozens of times over the years—a vampire like any serial killer whose only reason for living was to kill again.
Like the one who had killed the huntress Tezra’s parents.
He had to make sure the vampire was dead, and another hadn’t been involved in the attack on her.
Atreides sat down hard on the chair next to the bed and took the huntress’s hand. Rubbing her cold fingers, he asked, “Do you remember anything else about him? About his biting you?”
“The wolf followed me. Then a hand grabbed my neck. Before I blacked out, he said he was going to take his fill of me, that I wouldn’t make it to safety, or something like that.”
Just as Atreides expected. He would warn her what he intended to do first and follow through. It wouldn’t be the last time either, Atreides was certain, if he was still alive.
“Did you see him?”
“Blue eyes that turned black. A cruel, dark smile.” She took a deep breath, steadily looking into Atreides’s eyes. “The attack wasn’t random.”
“He targeted you?”
She closed her eyes briefly, then studied Atreides. “Yes.”
“Is he on your list?”
She shook her head. “But I’m on his.”
He cursed under his breath. “We found clothes and ashes where your blood was also discovered on the road where he must have attacked you. Could you have killed him?”
“I…I don’t remember.”
He would have to discover who he was pronto. “Would you recognize him as a wolf again, if there were two of them and one was running in the form of a wolf?” He had to stop the bastard before he put more of their kind at risk. In the meantime, he had to ensure her own people protected her.
“I think so.”
"But you killed him, and his clothes were left behind." Something didn't add up.
"I killed him," she said.
"You don't remember killing him? You must have—well, I'm not sure. You didn't have wrist daggers on for close combat. You were armed only with your sword. The good thing is if you killed him, you couldn't have been turned." At least that was the good news for her.
She looked confused, like she was trying to recall anything more about what had happened, but she wasn’t coming up with anything.
He patted her hand. “I’ll get breakfast. After you’ve rested a couple of days, you can go home.”
“I live at Rivercrest Apartments. I don’t have to inconvenience you any further.”
“Who lives with you?”
She frowned. “No one, but it doesn’t matter. I feel well enough to fend for myself.”
Huntresses often didn’t live alone. Exceptions existed, of course, but they often shared a place together to protect themselves if a rogue learned he was on one of the huntress’s terminal list.
“No. If he comes after you again, you should have hunter protection. Not only that, after being unconscious for a time, you had to have had a mild concussion. You need someone to watch over you.”
The most disturbing look crossed her face, but her reaction quickly passed, and he wondered then what was going on with the huntress.
“I’ll get hold of some hunters after you drop me off at my place and…what about my car?” Tears misted her eyes, and she lay back against the pillow.
“Gone. Colt and Renault looked for it for several hours, but they couldn’t find any sign of it.”
“Would the vampire have taken it?”
“Maybe. Or someone else might have who found it abandoned on the road. If they knew how to start a car without keys…”
She gave a ladylike snort. “The keys were in the ignition.”
He quirked a brow.
She scowled back. “I left the door open to give me more light while I searched for a body. I didn’t walk very far from the car, and there wasn’t a soul on the road. I certainly didn’t expect to see a wolf guarding the car when I turned around.”
“Renault notified the police that your car was missing, but he didn’t know your last name or your tag number.” When she didn’t reveal anything further about herself, he tensed. “Sorry, I know this has been a traumatic experience for you and—”
“You can take me back to my place, now. I appreciate all your concern but—”
“Damn it, woman. You’re not going anywhere but home to your family. And I won’t hear another word on it.” He rose from the chair, expecting an outburst in response to his.
Instead, her eyes filled with fresh tears again.
“All right, listen. After you eat, you’ll feel better. Then we’ll talk.” The woman would see it his way or else. “Eggs, hash browns, sausage links, and toast all right?”
She nodded, but her expression remained mutinous.
“I’ll be right back.” And he would have some more questions for the huntress. This time he would know the reason she went to the dance club, unarmed, alone, and looking for something other than a drink and to dance with a vampire. To speak with Twilight?