Page 58 of Shadow Hunter

The kick from the larger-than-average gun slammed her shoulder against the pavement, and the wind rushed from her lungs. That was going to hurt in the morning. The monster screamed, falling onto the ground in pain as blood and brain fluid seeped from his head. Though the wound sealed itself within seconds, he clearly wasn’t used to being shot in the head.

Wimp.

As he clutched his healing skull, she threw her body weight forward and landed on top of him, her stake held tight. He gripped her neck, cutting off her breath and holding her off him, but not before she positioned the stake between her breasts. With all the strength she possessed, she contracted her abs and shoved the weight of her chest downward. The sharp end of the stake pierced his skin and into his flesh.

He released her throat and grabbed her shoulders to push her off, but it was too late. One more good shove and her weapon sank through to his heart. His undead body shattered in a burst of blood, and she flopped onto the concrete, her elbows scraping the asphalt, as fresh blood coated her hair, face, and dress.

For a moment she lay sprawled on the pavement. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart thumped, and she felt a slight soreness in her chest where she’d braced her weapon as shestabbed Carl. There was sure to be one hell of a bruise there later. The skin of her elbows burned, and she let out a small groan.

Her lids shot open.

Damon.

She scrambled up from the pavement and ran back down the alley, a small cry ripping from her lips as she rounded the corner. Damon was lying on the cold winter ground, unmoving. She rushed to his side. Her heart stopped, and bile rose in the back of her throat.

She couldn’t tell if he was even breathing.

Dislodging his arm from beneath the dead weight of his body, she fingered his wrist, searching for a pulse. A faint beat still remained, though she could tell it was quickly fading.

Somewhere in her mind, she was vaguely aware of the sound of her own screaming as she pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed 911. She tried desperately to lift him. They needed to get out of there so the cops, who were surely headed to the restaurant already, couldn’t find them. All she needed was an ambulance. Tears streamed down her face, clouding her vision.

She couldn’t think straight. Only one thought held firm in her mind.

She was hypocrite.

Because she’d left B to die....

An incessant beepingnoise echoed in Damon’s ears, sounding in rhythm with every thump of his heart. The pounding in his head matched his pulse.

Man, he felt like shit.

A blinding light hovered overhead, his vision so blurred he couldn’t tell what it was. He squeezed his eyes shut. It felt as if there was tubing in his nostrils. Fuck, maybe there was. Though his arm weighed a thousand pounds, or at least it felt like it, he gripped the thin tube and ripped it away from his face.

“Damon, no!” a panicked voice cried.

The smell of antiseptic assaulted his nose. It smelled almost as astringent as a...

His eyes shot open, as he frantically scanned the hospital room. He was wearing an awful white hospital gown, barely long enough to cover his upper thighs, let alone his…

Before he could say anything, the smell of Tiffany’s vanilla perfume hit him as she threw herself into his arms, wrapping herself around his neck. The smell and feel of her against him was comforting, relaxing even, bringing to mind memories of the perfume-scented letters she’d used to send him.

Her body shook as she cried into his shoulder.

Damon blinked, taking it all in, before he gripped her by the waist and dragged her from the chair she sat in onto the bed beside him.

She curled into him, tears filling her honey-colored eyes. “I failed you. I failed you,” she sobbed into him.

“What the hell are you talking about, Tiffany?” he grumbled.

Glancing up at him, her lip trembled before she burst into another round of tears.

Damn it.

Pulling her into his arms, he cradled her against his chest.

Though she’d obviously washed herself off, her gown was crusted with blood, but damn, the slinky thing still looked good on her, even with her losing it like this. “It’s alright, Shortcake. Tell me what happened.”

“It’s alright? It’s alright?” She sputtered, echoing his words like he’d gotten it all wrong. “I nearly got you killed!”

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