Page 8 of The Vampire's Hunter

The woman lived to find trouble.

And yet…

Somehow, he always found her.

What exactly did that say for his character?

“It looks like someone’s no longer waiting around in hopes for you, old boy.”

“Shut up, Kharis.” Corbin was already moving, his eyes falling to Zane, the vampire who attempted to pull her close, despite Dani’s resistance.

Every bloodsucker in the room was eyeing her.

Forget sirens. Dani’s blood called to them, more than most.

“I think I may have just found my distraction,” Corbin muttered over his shoulder as he descended the second-floor stairs, his eyes flashing red and not from the club lights above.

Behind him, Kharis laughed. “With that look, I’m not confident you won’t drain her yourself before morning.”

Corbin was already half-way across the club toward her, before he grumbled in answer, “You and me both.”

3

Dani had been in Chicago all of five minutes and already she found herself in trouble.

“Come on, sweetheart. Smile that pretty grin again.”

She tugged against the vampire who held a near death-grip on her wrist, fighting but failing to slip away. “I really need to—”

“I’ll take it from here, Zane,” a smooth voice from behind cut Dani’s words short, sending an all too familiar shiver down her spine.

A large hand slipped to the front of her throat, another gripping her elbow as its owner pulled her deliciously close, causing Zane’s hand to fall away.

It was a possessive embrace. The kind that signaled to anyone and everyone near, Zane included, that she was more than a pretty face, she was an object to be claimed, and claimed she’d been. Dani didn’t need to see who held her to recognize the vampire those lithe hands belonged to. Her body was already aware of him. It always had been.

“Corbin,” she breathed, melting into his warmth a little too readily.

That was one thing the movies never got right—the idea that a vampire’s touch was cold. Corbin had been the first to show her that with little more than a brush of his hand. She’d been young, foolish then, and she’d wanted him from the moment she’d met him nearly ten years ago.

Old habits died hard, she supposed.

The warmth of his breath brushed against her ear, causing a relieved sigh to tear from her lips. “What an unexpected surprise, my love.”

My love?

Dani’s eyes widened, even as she felt her nipples grow stiff.

In all the years she’d known Corbin, despite all the flirting, toying, and teasing, he’d never once claimed her as his own. Never touched, caressed, or kissed her. Had never done anything more than tantalize and provoke, exactly what he did witheveryone. As if she were forbidden. Or at least, as if he had only a cursory interest in her. Nothing more.

And he’d certainly never told her he loved her. Though foolishly she’d nearly come close to confessing as much to him once upon a decade ago, but ages had passed since then. She knew better now. Not to mention, it’d been nearly a year or longer since she’d last seen him, and even before Cillian’s death, whole seasons had often passed between when she and Corbin spoke, but he was speaking now, his accent crisp and close.

“Thank you for keeping an eye on her, Zane. She does love to get herself into trouble, don’t you, darling?” Corbin’s grip on her neck tightened, promising to play somewhere between pleasure and pain as he leaned in. “Play along,” he hissed into her ear.

Dani nodded in agreement.

Anything to get her away from Zane.

Corbin held her flush against him now, her bottom pressing against the fly of his suit enough that she could feel the hardened length of his cock beneath. Dani bit her lower lip. She didn’t need any acting skills to fake the eager groan that escaped her as Corbin’s lips brushed over her throat, one of his fangs tracing the fluttering beat of her pulse.

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