Embraced By Darkness

than either of us would want.

I stood up and dug out my credit card. 'My turn,' I said. 'You paid for the last coffee.'

'I do have a little more money than you.'

'Like I care. And fair is fair.'

He leant forward and kissed my forehead. 'I do love the fact that my money isn't a factor to you.'

'Hey, don't get me wrong, it's nice that you have money.' I hesitated, then gave him a cheeky grin. 'It means you can get me bigger and better presents come Christmas and birthdays.'

'Ah, so there is a mercenary soul deep down inside.'

'There's lots of things deep down inside.' I paid the waiter, adding a generous tip, then slipped my arm through Kellen's again. 'And maybe one day I'll allow you to plum those depths and uncover all my little secrets.'

'Oh, a moment to anticipate, to be sure.'

We stepped out onto the street. It was nearly two-thirty, and the crowds had thinned out a little. But music still pulsed from the Blue Moon and the scent of lust and arousal ran on the air, as delicious as the aroma of food.

I breathed deep, then gave a contented smile. 'I love this place.'

He raised an eyebrow, amusement still playing on his lips. 'Lygon Street?'

I nodded as we walked toward the club. 'I love the scents and the sounds. It always feels so alive, so vibrant, no matter what time of day or night.'

'I guess.' He looked around, as if taking it all in for the first time. 'The only place we have in Sydney that compares to this is the Oxford Street area.'

'That's mainly for gays, isn't it?'

'Used to be, before the wolf clubs moved in. Now it's a mix—and a huge tourist attraction, believe it or not.'

'Oh, I'd—' I stopped mid-sentence as the ghostly tingle of awareness ran across my skin.

A vampire was near.

A vampire whose stench I'd smelled before, just before he'd taken a potshot at me.

The sensation of danger hit so hard that it left me gasping for air. Something fast and deadly was tearing through the night toward us.

Another goddamn bullet.

I threw myself sideways, knocking Kellen out of the way in the process.

'What the hell—?' Instinctively, his arms went around me, cushioning my body with his own as we hit the pavement, hard.

Something burned past us, then a woman screamed. It was a high-pitched, wailing sound of horror and utter disbelief.

Gut churning, I broke free of Kellen's grip and twisted around. The bullet intended for me had found the head of the man behind me. And by found, I meant smashed into, and basically obliterated. Blood and bone and bits of god knows what else covered the woman who'd been walking beside him. She didn't even seem to notice, just stood there screaming and staring at the shattered remains of the man at her feet.

'Oh fuck,' Kellen said.

Oh fuck, indeed. I pulled free of his arms and scrambled to my feet. After freeing my gun, I shoved my bag at him. 'Grab my phone and call the Directorate. Tell them someone's had another potshot at me and taken out a civilian. Tell them I'm hunting the shooter.'

'Another potshot?' He made a grab for my arm, his fingers slipping down the leather of my jacket before he gripped my wrist. 'What the hell is going on?'

'I don't have time to explain.' I stepped back and pulled free of his grip. Saw the surprise flicker in his eyes. Despite knowing what I was, he hadn't really realized the strength that it gave me. 'Just ring the Directorate and look after that woman. I'll be back.'

'But—'

I didn't hear the rest of his sentence. I simply turned and ran, following the faint scent of death and decay. The shot had come from behind and above, and that was where his scent was still coming from, I scanned the rooftops as I ran, and saw a shadow flicker on one. This time the bastard wasn't going to get away from me.

I ran into the restaurant. Waiters and patrons were already lining the windows, ogling the carnage. Only a few of them turned to look at me.

'Rooftop stairs?' I said to the nearest waiter.

He pointed to the corner. 'But it's locked.'

'Not for long.' I ripped my badge from the pocket of my jeans and showed him. 'Directorate. You have a shooter on your roof. Keep everyone here and calm.'

He nodded. I ran between the tables and up the back stairs. Luckily, this building was only three stories high, so I wasn't even puffing by the time I crashed through the fire door up top. There was no time for finesse because that would only give the bastard more time to escape.

Bits of wood went flying and the thick scent of unwashed vampire stung the night. I swung around, following the scent. Had a brief glimpse of metal gleaming softly in moonlight before there was an explosion of air and something the size of a Mack truck smashed into my leg, sending me spinning.

I hit the ground with a grunt. Pain bloomed, flooding my body until it felt like every inch of me was burning.

Silver. The bastard was still using silver. And this time the bullet was lodged in my leg.

Meaning I couldn't shift shape, couldn't run. With nothing else to do—besides crawl, and that was never a fast means of escape—I lay still and played dead. Given the shooter was a vamp, he'd know I wasn't, of course, but he couldn't be entirely sure I wasn't unconscious. And given the stairwell walls were giving me cover, he'd actually have to come within sighting distance if he wanted to finish me off.

His undead aroma stained the night, neither retreating nor moving closer. My fingers twitched against the laser's trigger and the scent of blood—my blood—filled the night. It had to be calling to him, and there were few vamps in this world who could resist such a tempting little treat.

For several heartbeats, nothing happened. Neither of us moved. I tried to keep my breathing steady, tried to ignore the burning in my leg, tried not to acknowledge the fact that the bullet would soon begin to numb and deaden my flesh. Sweat broke out across my forehead, running down my cheeks, and stinging my eyes. Sweat caused by the heat of silver in my body, by fear of the consequences if I didn't remove it.

Then the vampire moved. I blinked, switching to infrared, and the dark heat of his body leapt into focus. He was walking oh so carefully toward the stairwell, his gun up and ready to fire. The minute I twitched, he'd shoot. Of that I had no doubt. And I really didn't want another piece of silver in my body.

Better by far not to give him the chance.

I carefully cranked the laser up to full strength. Rhoan had once told me that these lasers had the power to blast a hole through several brick walls and still kill someone on the far side. I hoped to God he hadn't been bullshitting. My life might very well depend on what happened next.

I sighted the laser on the vampire's dark form and pressed the trigger. The bright beam shot across the night, powering through the walls with as little effort as it powered through flesh. Only he moved, so instead of slicing off his head, I cut off a leg and a part of one arm.

His limbs plopped to the ground and he screamed—a high, inhuman sound. He fell, and flopped around like a fish out of water. I couldn't feel sorry for him. Not when his silver bullet was burning inside me.

And not when he was dragging himself toward me, the thick scent of burned flesh mingling with the reek of his anger, filling the night with his need for revenge.

I took a deep breath, then rolled sideways. Pain unlike anything I've ever felt ripped through my body, followed by a white-hot burning sensation. Dizziness swept through me, leaving me weak and ready to throw up.

I hissed, sucking in air, furiously blinking away the sweat dripping into my eyes as I tried to sight my would- be assassin. He was heading to the right of the stairwell, so I now had a better angle at his neck.