Blake's Pursuit (3 page)

4

Blake lunged at the attacker. He’d heard a woman’s scream coming from inside Hannah’s flat just as he was picking the lock on her door.

There was no doubt that the man was a vampire. Just as it was evident that the woman being attacked wasn’t Hannah, but a blonde in a skimpy outfit, her long bare legs sticking out from under her aggressor.

Blake gripped the attacker by the shoulders and jerked him off his victim. The hostile vampire wheeled around, growling viciously, but Blake didn’t waste time and delivered a blow to the guy’s face. It whipped to the side for an instant, before snapping back. Now even more pissed off at having his fun interrupted, the asshole fought back.

Fending off the guy’s punches, Blake didn’t get a chance to verify that the woman was unhurt. He only heard her frightened screams and saw a flash of something pink move in his peripheral vision. He had to keep all his wits about him to keep his attacker at bay. The stranger had an advantage over Blake, because he was heavier, though his fighting technique was less refined. That’s where Blake had the upper hand. Even so, the guy still managed to land a few minor kicks and blows.

When the jerk’s fist came at him again, Blake ducked away and rammed him against the bookcase. Books and trinkets crashed to the floor, but the vampire didn’t give up. He grabbed the standing lamp to his left and flung it at Blake, who dove away, letting it slam harmlessly against the wall.

But the attacker didn’t slow down. He pushed away from the bookshelf and reached for a chair that was covered with a stack of magazines. Blake knew exactly what the guy planned to do with the chair—the wooden chair. But he didn’t intend to give him the chance.

“Nice try, buddy!” Blake grunted and jumped, knocking the chair out of the assailant’s hand before he could slam it against the wall and make himself a stake. As Blake wheeled back to deliver a punch to the attacker’s head, a balled-up fist hit him in the gut, making him fold over for a split second.

But he’d had worse than this. Scanguards had trained him well in hand-to-hand combat. Nobody would defeat him that easily, not even a vampire who weighed a good thirty pounds more than him.

He continued to trade blows with the assailant, avoiding as many direct hits as he could, though the attacker did land a few well-placed fists, just as Blake managed to deliver some decent blows to the guy’s increasingly agitated face. It wouldn’t be long before both he and the attacker would bare their fangs, despite the human in the room. Not knowing whether the woman knew what they were, he wanted to avoid that complication.

It spurned him on to go even harder at the hostile vampire, and he now used his legs to deliver powerful kicks, moves he’d learned from various martial arts disciplines. But the assailant wouldn’t go down. He kept coming, kept punching and kicking more ferociously by the minute, as if the fight was replenishing his energy. There was no stopping him with ordinary means. Only a stake or a silver bullet would bring this determined jerk down. But that wasn’t an option right now, particularly since he wanted him alive.

Blake gritted his teeth and drew on all of his reserves, pummeling the assailant with vampire force and speed. In return, the vampire turned even wilder. His eyes glared red now.

A high-pitched shriek from the woman in the room distracted Blake for a split second. Had she seen the attacker’s glowing eyes?

A fist connecting with his temple made him tumble back a step. Blake swung his arm back and aimed for the hostile vampire’s chin, but when he stepped forward again to use all his weight against his opponent, his foot got caught in something and he slipped. He caught himself in mid-fall and jumped back, but the other vampire was already heading toward the open doorway.

Frantic, Blake disentangled his foot from the lamp’s electrical cord, in which he’d gotten caught, and raced after him. The kitchen was small, and from it a second door led back into the hallway. The assailant was heading for it, but Blake ripped him back and spun him around.

But before Blake could deliver a punch, the attacker braced himself on the kitchen counter and kicked both his legs into Blake’s stomach, knocking him on his ass. It gave the hostile vampire enough time to hoist himself over the kitchen sink and lunge for the open window.

Blake was already up again and charging toward the window, when something hard hit him from the side. Momentarily disoriented, he spun his head toward the open doorway, where the scantily-dressed woman stood with a hairdryer in her hand.

“Shit!” he cursed and jumped onto the counter, lunging toward the window. But when he looked outside, the vampire was already fifty yards away from the building and mounting a motorcycle.

He sped away. Despite his vampire night vision, Blake couldn’t make out the numbers: they had been obscured with dirt.

“Fuck,” he cursed, slamming his hand against the wall, before jumping down and turning back to the woman. “Why the fuck did you hit me with that thing? I had him!”

She lifted her chin. “You didn’t have him! He was beating the shit out of you. I was fucking helping you!”

“Yeah, you were a big help!” he growled. “You should have stayed out of it.”

“Oh yeah? And play the damsel in distress?” she griped.

He stepped toward her, furious now. “You
were
the damsel in distress.”

He took a deep breath, and for the first time really looked at her. Yeah, and what an utterly beautiful damsel she was. Fuck, he hadn’t even noticed. But he sure noticed now.

She was a natural blonde, her hair the color of wheat. It cascaded down her shoulders and touched the exposed skin of her neckline, where her pink bathrobe gaped open. Beneath the fabric, her breasts heaved from the force of her heavy breathing, possibly from the effort of hitting him, certainly from the outrage over his admonishment. Well, he didn’t mind the view. Not at all, in fact. She was quite something to look at. Not petite, not fragile, but tall and athletic.

His eyes wandered lower. The robe only reached to mid-thigh, and the legs that he now admired were trim and a little pale from lack of sun. But he could imagine that in the summer her skin would turn the color of bronze, accentuating her golden hair. Involuntarily he shifted, the sudden tightness in his pants forcing him to find a more comfortable position, before the beauty before him noticed that he was sporting the beginnings of a hard-on—and that it was her fault.

A huff made him lift his eyes to her face. Her cornflower-blue eyes scrutinized him with barely-veiled suspicion now. He could get lost in their depths, were they not narrowed at him now.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?”

He tilted his head to the side. “You mean apart from saving your pretty ass from that jerk?” He pointed to the window.

A little bit of color rose to her cheeks. “Yeah, apart from that.”

“I could ask you the same thing. ‘Cause for sure you’re not Hannah. And this is her flat. So what are you doing here?”

“That’s rich!” she sniped. “You’re breaking in here, and you’re asking
me
what I’m doing?”

Involuntarily, he pointed in the direction of the front door. “If I hadn’t knocked down that door, God knows what that guy would’ve done to you. You were screaming for help, so excuse me if I didn’t ring the fucking door bell!” Damn it, the woman could rile him up!

She sucked in a breath, but instead of lashing out with another insult, she appeared to calm herself down. “I’m sorry, but so much has happened, and I guess I’m just a little agitated. I mean that burglar… it’s not as if I didn’t have enough on my mind already.”

A burglar? That’s what she thought that vampire was? For now he’d let her believe that, but he was almost sure that the attacker had something to do with Hannah not showing up for work. Had the stranger been human, then, sure, he could have been an ordinary burglar, but a vampire, when Hannah worked with vampires? That was too much of a coincidence.

Slowly, he nodded. At least the woman wasn’t acting combative anymore. He could work with that. “You’re a friend of Hannah’s?”

“Lilo. Her best friend from back home. You live in the building?”

“No. I’m a friend. Hannah and I work for the same company. Different divisions.” He offered his hand. “I’m Blake.”

Lilo hesitated, then transferred the hairdryer to her other hand, before shaking his. “She never mentioned you.”

“She never mentioned you either.” Though he had no reason to believe that Lilo was lying. “Have you seen her?”

Lilo blinked before answering. “No. The apartment was empty when I arrived earlier tonight.”

Blake glanced around. “She hasn’t shown up for work. Didn’t call in sick, which isn’t like her. We’re concerned.”

“So am I. That’s why I flew out here. I think something happened to her.” Suddenly she sagged against the doorframe, all the air leaving her lungs.

Instinctively, Blake reached for her, but she eased to the side, stepping into the living room.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to…” he started. He shoved a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t my intention to frighten you. Guess that burglar did his fair share of it already. Are you okay?”

She forced a faint smile, but shook her head. “No. I’m not okay. My friend is missing. Her dog’s gone, too. And she’s not answering her cell. Her mother is worried sick.” She pulled the robe tighter around her torso. “And I need to file a missing person’s report.”

“I can take care of that,” he offered, though he had no intention of going to the police. This was vampire business. It was paramount that he deal with Hannah’s disappearance himself; he didn’t want to involve the police.

She shook her head, vehemently. “No.
I
have to go to the police. I owe her. It’s my fault she’s gone.”

Blake instinctively stepped closer. “What? Why is it your fault?”

Lilo’s beautiful face took on a pained expression. “She left me a message that she needed to talk. Something was bothering her, and I didn’t respond. I was too busy.”

“And that somehow makes it your fault?” He shook his head. “That’s ludicrous.”

Lilo suddenly shivered, and he realized that the cold air coming from the kitchen window was bothering her. He turned around and closed it, then ushered her toward the couch in the living room.

She lifted her eyes, and her gaze collided with his. “I should have called her back when she needed me. It’s my fault.”

5

“Please sit down. You’re more shook up than I thought.”

Her rescuer’s voice was deep and melodic and made her shiver once more. Lilo realized that she hadn’t even thanked him yet. Instead she’d railed at him and treated him with suspicion. Yet here he was, taking the hairdryer from her hand, putting it aside, and guiding her gently to the couch as if she were fragile and would break at any moment. And maybe she would. She wasn’t one of the brave characters from her books, who dealt with crime daily and wasn’t afraid of anything.

“I’m—”

“What’s going on here?” a male voice coming from the front door asked.

Lilo whipped her head in his direction. In the open doorframe stood a middle-aged man, wearing pajamas and a long dark-green bathrobe. He glanced into the apartment.

Blake was already walking toward him. “Nothing to worry about. It’s all taken care of.” He reached the door and blocked her view, continuing his conversation with the concerned neighbor, lowering his voice so much that she couldn’t hear what he was saying.

A moment later Blake turned around and closed the door behind him. They were alone again.

As he walked toward her with his confident gait, she took the opportunity and eyed him up. He was a little over six feet tall and athletic. His hair was dark, his eyes azure-blue. He had a strong, square chin and a long, straight nose. Underneath his Polo shirt she could see his chest muscles flex.

He was handsome; very much so. Maybe in his early thirties. Rugged, in a romantic kind of way. And he looked exactly like she’d always imagined Morgan West, the bounty hunter from her mystery series, would look in real life.

She shook her head to try to return to reality. She wasn’t living in one of her books for a change. This was real life. Real danger. And this man had saved her from a true threat.

“I haven’t even thanked you,” she started.

He stopped in front of her and sat down on the edge of the old wooden coffee table. He grinned. “No need. I’m just glad you’ve stopped hitting me.”

She cringed. “I only hit you once. And it was an accident. I was after the other guy. I’m sorry.”

“Forget about it.” He leaned in a little. “Tell me what happened.”

Lilo tugged at the bathrobe she’d borrowed from Hannah. “I was taking a quick shower after my flight, getting ready to go to the police, when I heard something. I thought it must be a burglar. So I figured I’d chase him away before he stole something.”

“Chase him away? Why didn’t you call 9-1-1?”

“I tried.” She pointed to the armchair where the contents of her handbag were still strewn about. She still couldn’t see her cell phone among her things. “But I couldn’t find my cell phone. I think he took it before he went into the kitchen. And then he heard me, and it was too late.” She shivered. “I don’t know what he would have done.”

Blake pressed his lips together and nodded, frowning. “Good thing I got here in time. Well, you’d better get dressed and pack up your things. You can’t stay here now.” He rose.

She shot up from the couch. “I can’t just leave. I need to stay here. What if Hannah comes back? With my phone gone she has no way of contacting me.”

“It’s not safe here.” The sharp edge in his voice brooked no refusal.

And riled her up instantly. “Because of a burglar? It happens all the time in large cities. I’m not some country bumpkin who—”

“It’s got nothing to do with that,” he interrupted and glared at her. “This was no random burglary. That guy is gonna come back. And I don’t want you to be here when he does.”

Her heart started to thunder and in the back of her mind something tried to push to the surface. “Why do you think that?”