Page 57 of Shadow Hunter

Carl looked at her and then Damon, taking in all the blood. His eyes widened, and she could practically see the light bulb flicker on inside his head. Once an average man who’d served as Caius’s Host back in N.Y.C, Carl flashed his elongated fangs. He’d been a vampire for two years now, and there was nothing average about him any longer.

A fiery blaze lit behind his eyes. His master was dead, and he knew it.

If Carl reported Caius’s murder to the local coven, the death would infuriate the local vamps. With every vampire in the city on their tail, Tiffany and Damon would be dead within hours. And apparently Carl knew that, as well, because he ripped his gaze away from them and shifted the Bugatti into drive.

Shit.

Damon groaned and swayed, barely holding himself upright as Tiffany released his weight. Pushing aside his leather trench coat, she snatched the Desert Eagle and her stake from his belt. She wasn’t bad with guns, but she sure as hell wasn’t a sharpshooter.

Still, she had to try.

Carefully but quickly aiming, she shot at the passenger-side rear tire, her bullet hitting the diamond-cut finish of the hubcap, before it ricocheted.

Damn.

She squeezed the trigger again, hitting closer to the hubcap.

Come on, just a little closer.

She held her arms steady as the Bugatti rounded a corner.

Last chance.

“Give it here, goddamnit,” Damon growled.

“What?”

“I said, give it here, Shortcake,” Damon snarled, reaching for the gun.

Without hesitation, she thrust it into his hand, trusting him as he had her.

Despite that he was unsteady, with one eye closed for a more accurate aim, Damon pulled the trigger for a third time.

The rear tire of the Bugatti exploded. Rubber flew in all directions. The awful scrape of metal against concrete hit her ears, more nerve-racking than nails on a chalkboard. Damon passed her the gun, and she gripped his elbow, pulling him forward, though he swayed a little.

“Come on, solider. You have to run.”

She kicked off her heels and bolted full speed toward the damaged car. Like a champ, Damon jogged behind her despite his bleeding wound. Carl threw open the door, briefly locked eyes with her, then ran full speed down the nearest alley. A grin crossed Tiffany’s face. He was fast, but not fast enough. He might be strong compared to what he’d been like as a human, but he wasn’t nearly as strong and fast as an ancient master like Caius. Having been the star of her high school track team never failed to be useful when hunting.

A loud groan echoed from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Damon crumple to his knees. All the color had drained from his face, leaving his lips a pale white. He gasped for air. Tiffany skidded to a stop. Should she give up the chase?

The image of the victims’ mauled flesh seared its way to the surface of her mind. If she didn’t stop Carl, the news of Caius’s death would race through Rochester like wildfire, and there would be no way in hell she and Damon could ever destroy the viral bloodsuckers before the virus spread out of control.

Damon was a hunter, a member of the Execution Underground. His wounds would heal.

She ran after Carl.

Bursting into the alley, she spotted the vamp racing along the far side, in the shadow of an office building. She launched herself into a full-on sprint. The muscles of her legs burned in protest, and the freezing concrete tore through the bottoms of her feet.

But she had an advantage: Carl didn’t think she could take him.

When the leech reached the end of the alley, instead of rounding the corner onto the next block, he halted. Spinning to face her, he bared his fangs and hissed. The bastard was fooling himself if he thought she was scared. Two minutes of sitting with Caius across the dinner table was scarier than this guythreatening to kill her. The man couldn’t weigh more than one-seventy soaking wet. It wasn’t him she was scared of. It was what his words could do.

Before she stopped running, the vampire lunged. He knocked her to the ground, snapping viciously at her neck as he writhed on top of her.

Really?That was all he could do?

She jammed her elbow upward and clocked him straight in the jaw. His head flew backward, and before he could return to attack, she pulled the Desert Eagle and fired a shot straight into his forehead.

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