Page 27 of The Vampire's Hunter

Traits which Corbin apparently had very little of.

“You were right,” he said, calmly, his hate aimed only at himself and himself alone. “I made a mistake. But she can still prove useful. We can—”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Kharis sneered as he shook his head in disbelief. “You just single-handedly ensured Lucien continues to haunt us, if he doesn’t manage to kill us all first, and all you can think about is a bit of human cunt?”

Even Corbin was surprised at how fast he moved, his hand clutching Kharis’ throat in an instant. “I told you never to speak of her that way again.”

“Did you?” Kharis lifted a brow, unfazed.

With a rough shove, Corbin released him, pacing the length of the room, whiskey bottle still in hand. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his blood covered shirt, the unbuttoned material still littered with bullet wounds, though his body had rejected the blasted things hours ago.

It took more than a handful of bullets to kill an ancient vampire, that much was true. Only a stake to the heart or decapitation brought his kind to an end. As he’d asked his men to do with every associate of Lucien’s who’d been in that room.

“Turn her and let’s be done with this. Once and for all,” Kharis said.

It was the logical solution, the sensible solution, and yet…

“I can’t.”

“What in flying fuck do you mean you can’t?” Kharis snarled. “You can’t be serious, Corbin. It’s been years. Centuries, even. You cannot mean to tell me you’re still afraid of—”

“The only thing which fills me with fear is the thought of more human blood on my hands.” Corbin glared over his shoulder at his friend. “She stays human.”

“God fucking damnit,” Kharis whispered, watching as Corbin turned toward him. Shaking his head, Kharis started laughing then, humorless chuckles, his face unamused. “You right piece of shit, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”

Corbin looked toward him.

“You love her, don’t you?” The ancient Greek lifted a brow.

Corbin scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Kharis. I—”

“Oh, shut up, Corbin, before you make yourself even more of a fool.” Kharis scowled, finally stepping away from the wall. “You’ve been saving Dani for years. Don’t tell me you haven’t realized it?”

Corbin stayed silent for a long beat, for once, uncertain what to do.

As he’d been the moment she’d pulled that skeleton key from round her neck.

He was a vampire. He wasn’t capable of love. He shouldn’t be, and yet…

“Good God, man,” Kharis swore, raking a hand over his face, “you really are fucked in the head, aren’t you?”

Corbin couldn’t bring himself to look at Kharis. “I’m handling it.”

“Are you?” Kharis shouted, ripping the whiskey bottle from Corbin’s hand and throwing it against the drywall. The bottle smashed upon impact, the contents and broken glass scattering across the floor. “Well, fucking handle it better, because from where I sit, unless you do, you’re about to loseeverythingthat matters to that monster that fucking sired you, unless…” Kharis’ gaze swept over him, his eyes going wide in horror, like he’d never seen him before. “Unless this is what you wanted, didn’t you? Unless you did this as some fucked penance to punish yourself for what happened to Ros—”

“Do not speak her name in my presence, do you hear me?” Corbin sneered. “You’re not worthy of it.”

“And neither are you,” Kharis yelled, stabbing a finger against Corbin’s chest. “Then or now. Nor do you deserve that poor woman in there.” He gestured wildly in the direction of Corbin’s living room, where Dani no doubt waited.

Corbin’s face remained still, even as his undead pulse beat. He’d expected her to leave, to place distance between them, never wish to see him again, like she wassupposedto do, though Dani never had made choices in her own best interest, had she?

“Yes, she stayed,” Kharis answered his question, before Corbin even had a chance to ask it. “Somehow, you haven’t managed to chase her away just yet. I was as surprised as you.” Kharis stepped forward then, gripping Corbin by the back of the neck, and pressing their foreheads together as they used to on the streets.

Brother to brother.

“You don’t get to decide what gifts life gives and takes away from you. You only get to decide your actions, what you do, and so help me God, brother, you best decide soon, because until then, my job here is through.”

Abruptly, Kharis released him, stalking toward the door.

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