Page 45 of To Catch A Rogue
Both of them wouldn't be able to escape. But maybe one of them could. "You need to run."
"Like hell."
"Can youpleasenot argue with me just this once? Someone needs to tell the others what happened."
"No," she said emphatically.
"What's wrong?" Dido mocked. "Don't you care for poor Ivan?"
She rubbed the creature's head and it made a high-pitched noise, revealing razor-sharp canines an inch long.
Vampires were created when a blue blood's craving virus levels began to hit 80 or 90 percent, a process they referred to as entering the Fade. Until recently, they'd thought the Fade to be an unconquerable weakness all blue bloods would face, until they'd discovered there was another alternative to becoming a vampire.
Dhampir.
The Fade wasn't the final death throes of a powerful creature, but a period of metamorphosis. Without theelixir vitaethat helped a blue blood through the transition, however, the end result was often the blind, bloodthirsty killing machine in front of him. Vampires couldn't reason. They were nothing more than pure hunger, driven completely by their primitive natures, and those natures told them they were the peak predator in this world.
Killing one was virtually impossible without a small army or high-powered weapons.
Or luck.
"I'm not going anywhere without you," Lark told him, drawing her knife. It looked pathetic compared to the enormity of what they faced. "So find me another option."
"Lark—"
"Friends don't leave their friends behind."
Damn her. Couldn't she just once listen to him? "The only option I have is to run."
"Works for me."
The pair of them started backing toward the door they'd just come through.
"Hunt," Dido told the creature in a cold voice. She began to remove the leash from its collar.
Charlie grabbed Lark by the arm and shoved her through the door. "Run!" he yelled.
As they burst through the door he heard Dido laugh, and then there was a high-pitched squeal as the vampire was let loose.
* * *
Not every door was locked,but enough of them were. Like lambs to the slaughter, they were herded in a very clear direction. Charlie slammed the door shut behind them as the vampire hurled itself against it. Timber splintered. They were trapped in a bedroom.
"Here!" Lark shoved an enormous chest of drawers in front of the door.
Another blow hammered the door, and the chest squealed an inch across the floor. "Get us out of here!"
She slipped his lock pick set from his waistcoat and ran toward the window.
"Damn it! The windows are barred." Lark shook the iron bars and then turned and surveyed the room.
The door gave another thump as the vampire threw itself at it. Charlie's shoulders strained as he maneuvered a wardrobe into place in front of the chest. He pressed his back to it, breathing hard. "Think that will hold it?"
As if to answer him, timber shattered somewhere behind the wardrobe. He could just imagine it ripping its way through the drawers and then the wardrobe....
"We're trapped," Lark said, looking this way and that.
The expression on her face made his stomach plummet. "I got you into this mess." He raked his hands through his hair. "I should never have asked you for help. I should never have—"
