Page 30 of Shadow Hunter

They jogged to the nearest alleyway but suddenly Damon stopped, pausing before moving forward. Tiffany’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the uniformed police officer on the ground. He slumped against the wall behind him. A trickle of blood ran from the crest of his hair. The man groaned.

Damon knelt beside him. “You the informant?”

Tiffany’s eyes widened. What informant?

The cop nodded. Man, the poor guy had taken a beating.

“Were you bitten?” Damon asked, cutting straight to the point.

The officer coughed, blood spewing from his mouth. He spit out a tooth, and then shook his head. Damon placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Good. Are you alright?”

The cop gulped as if trying not to spit more blood, before he managed to say, “Yeah. Hurry. Called patrol, thought I’d lose consciousness. F-fifteen minutes out.” His last several words came out in a slurred mess. Slowly, he lifted his hand and pointed toward the alleyway. “Go.”

Damon gave his shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze. “Thank you.”

Standing, Damon slipped into the alleyway and blended into the shadows at its mouth. Tiffany followed his lead, close at his heels. Moving at a slow, steady pace, she snaked around the corner right behind Damon, following each step he took with equal care.

Halfway through she bumped into his shoulders as he came to a sudden halt.

In the middle of the alley, half-hidden by shadows, lay a limp and bloodied body. A pool of dark blood, black against the barely lit pavement, formed in the shape of a halo around...his head?

Tiffany covered her mouth. Her head spun as she steadied herself on the brick wall of the building that formed one side of the alley. Nausea hit her stomach. The last time she’d seen a man this desecrated by a vampire was when she and Mark had found their father lifeless on their living room floor as their mother clawed uselessly at the monster’s arms. He’d sucked the life from her throat, deaf to Mark and Tiffany’s screams.

Though she hadn’t yet found the culprit, she’d never forget his face.

“He’s not drained completely,” Damon said, his words barely above a whisper.

Tiffany shuddered. There was something not right about this.

Vamps didn’t leave leftovers, yet a puddle of blood surrounded the man’s head. A newborn vamp wasn’t capable of that kind of self-control, but an ancient vamp would lick his dinner plate clean and leave. Near invincible or not, vampires chowed down, drank every last drop of their victim, then beat feet. They weren’t about to make themselves known to the human population. They were greedy, arrogant bastards, but they weren’t stupid.

Modern man packed an arsenal of weapons, and an all-out attack from the human race would lead to their demise. Tiffany often wondered if the world would be better offknowingwhat monsters crawled out after dark. But humanity couldn’t cope with the existence of anything “other,” anything different. They couldn’t handle the truth.

They would panic.

Numb, Tiffany stepped out of the shadows and slowly walked over to stand near the corpse, a young guy of around thirty-five who looked as if he’d been healthy and fit before the vamp got him. Now the man’s arm was detached from his body, gnawed to shreds. Exactly the way the young girl’s face had been. His eyes were wide open, staring toward the night sky, the stars drowned by the lights of the city. Bending down, she carefully brushed her hand over his eyelids, closing them for the final time, before she stood.

“Tiffany!” Damon roared.

Before she could comprehend what was going on, Damon tackled her full force, knocking her to the ground. A loud hiss pierced the darkness, and her mind snapped to attention. A fierce, red-eyed vampire stepped forward from the shadows, its fangs already extended and blood ringing its mouth.

Damon crouched in front of her, blocking her from the vampire’s attack. As the creature lunged, Damon ripped the Desert Eagle from his waistband and fired a round into the bloodsucker’s gut. With such a high caliber bullet, the vamp’s midsection blew to pieces. Blood and guts splattered over the alleyway, but that wasn’t enough to kill it.

The vampire screeched and staggered. It held its internal organs in as the damaged flesh knitted over, healing the bullet wound. It lifted its head.

Glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness.

“You will die, hunter.” It crouched in front of the body, guarding the corpse like a lion guarding its prey.

Suddenly it ran at Damon, barely visible thanks to its intense speed. A feral growl escaped the monster’s throat, but Damon fought the vampire blow for blow, matching its supernatural strength.

For several seconds Tiffany stared, completely frozen. She watched their killing dance as the vampire’s blood spilled in all directions, yet each time it lunged, Damon emerged unscathed.

Holy hell. She couldn't just sit there. She had to help. Had to do something.

She ripped her own stake from her belt and rushed into the fight.

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