She knew exactly what he was thinking. “If you expect to go into Caius’s nest with guns blazing, you’re out of your mind.” She stood up and walked toward him. “I have a better suggestion.” Lingering directly in front of him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on her tiptoes and pulled his head toward her for a kiss. Their tongues swirled together, and immediately heat rushed between her legs. She pulled back. “
I’ll
kill Caius.”
“Over my rotting corpse.” Damon wrapped his arms around her waist and raised a single brow at her. “Did you really think kissing me would get me to agree to that?”
She shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
Damon let out a long sigh. “Tiffany, look—”
“Let me finish,” she said, cutting him off. “Whether you like it or not, I know a lot more about the dynamics of this city’s vampire scene than you do. All the local vamps have their heads so far up Caius’s ass they might as well take up permanent residence. They’ll do anything he asks of them, and they’ll kill to protect him.”
“Vampires have no loyalty. Why do you think they’re so devoted to him?”
She crossed the room again to sit on the sofa. “Caius is a good leader, I’ll give him that. He’s good at controlling, even other vamps. He’s been here only three months when he fled here from New York City, after he killed my brother. Since Club Fantasy was already his, this was a natural place to relocate, I guess. He’d been an absent club owner before that. In only three months, he’s taken a disbanded group of rogue-like vamps and changed them into an organized nest. He must have been some sort of Roman version of Charles Manson in his day. He’s a manipulative psychopath. He was only second in command when my brother raided his nest in New York City. With the head honcho dead, Caius is the big fish now, and he takes his position very seriously.” She shot Damon a pointed look. “With so many vampires in this city, in order to kill Caius you’d have to get him alone, and in order to do
that
you’d need to gain his trust.” She pointed to herself. “I’ve already done that.”
He met her stare. “What are you proposing?”
“I’ll get back inside Caius’s inner circle. I’ll make up some excuse for having run last night, and then I’ll let you in to help me fight once I have him alone.”
Damon shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Do you have a better idea?”
He grunted in exasperation and fixed her with a hard stare. “Why do you keep trying to tempt death?”
She scoffed. “Would you quit with that? Maybe I just want to avenge my brother, all right? How do you know I can’t—”
He interrupted her as he walked to her side. “Even if you were completely capable of handling an ancient vampire on your own—” he narrowed his eyes “—which you’re not, I still wouldn’t want you anywhere near Caius. I don’t know what I’d do if you were hurt or if I was unable to protect you.” He placed a hand on her cheek. “Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes. You trying to fight a vampire as ancient as Caius is foolish. We both know why you’re willing to risk your life. I can see your pain over your brother, and I can’t imagine how painful losing your parents to vampires at such a young age was, but there are few things worth throwing your life away over, and your family wouldn’t have wanted you to throw it away over them.”
Her heart stopped, and her eyes widened. How did he know about...?
She swatted his hand from her face. He froze as she stepped away. “How did you know that?” she rasped. “How did you know my parents were killed by vampires, too?”
He didn’t respond.
No. No. It couldn’t be.
Damon Brock. Damon
Brock.
The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop herself. “Has anyone ever called you B?” No. She didn’t want to know. She
couldn’t
know. It would ruin everything.
Damon flinched as if she’d struck him.
Before she knew what she was doing, she rushed forward and shoved his chest as hard as she could. He didn’t even stagger. “Do they call you B?” she yelled.
Tears poured down her face. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t. No. She pummeled his chest, but he didn’t move, didn’t defend himself. “Did
he
call you B?” she screamed.
The muscles in Damon’s throat strained as if he could barely choke out the words. “He called me B because my last name is Brock. That’s why I signed the letters that way.”
All sound, all movement, all feeling...stopped. Her hands shook at her sides, and her heart thumped against her chest, the sound of her own blood throbbing in her ears. Every inch of her body went numb.
Mark had always referred to his partner as B. She never knew it was the letter for a last name. She always assumed it was his first initial.
“B’s an amazing fighter, Tiff. I wish you could meet him. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to watch my back.” He nudged her in the shoulder. “Good-lookin’ guy, too. Maybe you’ll find a hunter like him someday and then I won’t have to take care of you anymore.” He grinned.
Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. If he’s anything like you I’d kick him to the curb.”
Mark met her eyes. “Seriously, Tiff. He’s a good man.”
Mark’s voice rang in her ears—the day he’d asked Tiffany to write to B. His fighting partner. The man he’d looked up to when they no longer had a father. Mark had said B had been like an older brother. His best friend.
Something inside Tiffany snapped. No. No. No. No. No. No. She had
not
slept with the man responsible for her brother’s death. She
hadn’t
lost her virginity to him. She sobbed, sobbed as she hadn’t sobbed since she’d buried the last person she ever loved, the last and only person who had ever loved her, only three months earlier.
“How could you abandon him?” She choked on her own tears, barely able to speak. “Why didn’t you save him?”
She stumbled backward, and Damon grabbed hold of her wrists, holding her up so she didn’t collapse to the floor. Her whole body shook as she looked up at him.
A single tear ran down his cheek, and the pain on his face was staggering.
“No!” She wrenched away from him. How dare he cry on Mark’s behalf? As if he hadn’t been capable of saving him? “Don’t you dare act like you cared about him! He trusted you and you let him down, and now he’s dead because of it.”
Damon’s hands clenched into fists, and his pain was so palpable she felt it in her bones.
Tears continued to roll down her face, drenching her cheeks. “He looked up to you. He loved you, and you let him die in Caius’s arms.”
Damon’s fist collided with the wall so hard plaster fell to the ground, and she felt the force of the blow in her feet. He threw another punch. Dust flew through the air as he released his rage. Then his head snapped toward her.
“You think I don’t blame myself for his death every day?” His ice-blue eyes blazed with anger, pain, sadness, remorse. He strode to her and grabbed her shoulders, staring hard into her gaze. “You think I wouldn’t give anything, wouldn’t give my own life, to bring him back? Nothing I could
ever
possibly do would be enough to pay for how I failed him. I don’t deserve forgiveness, but you
have
to know that I will bear the pain and regret of how I hurt him—” he paused and brushed her cheek, wiping her tears away “—of how I hurt
you,
for the rest of my life.”
She sucked in a hard breath. “Why?”
His eyes widened as if he couldn’t comprehend what she was saying.
“Tell me why you left him there to die, why you didn’t save him.”
As if unable to face her a moment longer, he turned away from her.
“Tell me why the valiant, brave, courageous
B
left his partner for dead. Tell me why the man I thought I knew turned out to be a coward.”
Damon hung his head, his back still turned toward her. “Because I am not, and never was, any of those things.”
She marched up to him and forced him to face her. “Don’t evade me. Tell me why, damn it!”
He shook his head. “You don’t want to know the details, Tiffany. You—”
She jabbed a finger into his chest. “Don’t tell me what I do and don’t want. You don’t know me.” She pushed at him again. “Tell me.”
He cursed under his breath. “Because I let my feelings for the job cloud my judgment. I let my hatred for vampires fuel me and went by the book instead of saving my friend.” He ran his fingers through the short stubble of his hair. His jaw clenched as she forced him to remember the moment, remember what he’d done.
“We’d been planning a raid on the nest for months. They’d killed hundreds, that band. We planned everything out, but it all backfired when one of the new hunters-in-training stepped out too early. The vamps rushed us as soon as they knew we were there. Your brother fought hand to hand with Caius. He was a brave man. Then Caius managed to stab him with his own stake. The bastard left him bleeding and ran. I was in pursuit of Caius’s elder, the head of the nest. I was right on his heels.”
He put his hand over his mouth as if to hold in the words, then dropped it to his side again. “With all the other vampires battling for their lives against other hunters and Caius gone, I knew none of the bloodsuckers would be hungry enough to go after Mark. His wound didn’t look deep, and I was so caught up in the fight, in the adrenaline and anger of the chase, that I left him. I followed protocol to kill the vampires instead of saving my partner. I was seeing red. All I could see, all I could hear, all I could think about, was all the dead people I needed to avenge.” He let out a long breath. “By the time I finished off the elder and went back for Mark, he was gone. Dead. I tried to save his body, but the vamps had the nest protected with explosives. The building blew up with Mark’s body inside. I barely managed to get out alive.”
A fresh round of tears streamed down Tiffany’s face.
“I was the leader of that raid, and instead of saving my wounded partner, I was too obsessed with making the kill and following orders.” Damon’s hands curled into fists. “I will never allow my anger, my emotions to get the better of me during a fight again. Ever. And I swore to myself that I wouldn’t get close to anyone again, wouldn’t make any personal attachments, so I couldn’t fail someone, but I failed at that, too.” He met her gaze.
“Well, aren’t you the good, obedient soldier.” Tiffany walked toward the door. She needed out. She needed fresh air to breathe. She needed to be away from him. She placed her hand on the knob and turned the handle. “I hope you enjoyed the kill.”
Without another word, she left the apartment, tears still streaming down her face.
* * *
Pain stabbed through Damon’s heart as if someone had shoved a knife into it and twisted. If words could kill, the pain and sorrow in Tiffany’s voice would have destroyed him.
The old feelings of regret rose to their peak. Never had he wished harder that he could have taken Mark’s place. That he’d died and Mark had lived. Damon’s father had died late in life in the line of duty at an old age, and his mother had passed not even two months later, the grief of her husband’s death, of his absence, too much to bear. Both of them had been gone for years, and he’d never had siblings, leaving no one who would have missed him if he’d died in Mark’s place. But Tiffany would feel the loneliness from her brother’s death for the rest of her life.
And he’d practically stolen her virginity.
Shit.
The pain that had radiated from her floored him. And she still didn’t know the worst of it...that Mark had to die again, but this time by Damon’s own hand.
It had been a long time since he’d prayed, but it was worth a shot. He wasn’t quite sure where to start, so he just closed his eyes. He didn’t need any of the formal Catholic rituals he grew up with—he just needed to talk.
“I know I don’t deserve it, but I could use some help right about now.” He drew in a long breath and waited, expecting no response and receiving exactly that. He hoped for a feeling, just a small indication that someone was out there. Did the Big Man Upstairs even listen to the prayers of a killer?
Damon opened his eyes and let out a long sigh. He stood alone in his apartment, where only a few hours ago he’d autopsied a dead man right on his kitchen counter. And he thought God would want to listen to him? He laughed at his own ignorance before he looked up toward the heavens. “If You’re listening, just...just help me make it up to her, all right?” he said into the silence of the apartment.
Then, without even stopping to put on his jacket, he rushed from the apartment and ran after Tiffany.
The cold air of the falling January night nipped at his skin, but it didn’t even register in his mind. He needed to find her. He owed it to Mark, and as worthless as he was, the thought of her hurt sent his blood boiling. Nobody would lay a hand on her unless they wanted his knife shoved into their esophagus.
Nothing
would happen to her while he lived and breathed. She was going to get herself killed if she continued going off to fight vampires, but that would
not
happen on his watch.
He jogged for three blocks, eyes constantly scanning the streets for her. Assuming she had a car parked near Club Fantasy, heading toward the club was his best bet. Twenty minutes later, when he still hadn’t caught up to her, he sprinted full speed back to the lofts, grabbed his car keys and jacket, and revved up his Z4. She must have taken a cab back to Club Fantasy, which only meant one thing: she was in a hurry...
...because she was going after Caius and she wanted to get to him before morning.
CHAPTER 8
Club Fantasy was nearly as dead as the majority of its patrons when Tiffany strode through the front entrance. It was still too early in the evening for all the vamps to be wide-eyed and awake yet. They could survive sunlight, but they sure didn’t like it, and it left one hell of a skin rash.
She made her way through the virtually empty club to where Caius normally perched his overly smug self. He wasn’t there yet, and she wondered what he was doing before his club’s initial rush came in?
Janette, one of Caius’s regular Feeds, strolled by, her hips swaying side to side as her bloodred pumps floated across the carpeting. Tiffany tapped her shoulder. The bleached blonde spun around, her face so pale the contrast with her fire-engine red lips was almost frightening. A fresh pair of fang marks were visible just beneath her golden tresses. She looked more like the walking dead than a human.
Then again, to all intents and purposes she
was
the walking dead.
Not much longer and she would be dead from the malnutrition and combined blood loss of being a Host, or—worse—she’d be drained and be a vamp.
Tiffany met the eyes of the grotesque-looking woman. “Do you know where Caius is?”
Janette scanned her, sizing up how much of a threat Tiffany was to her own position in Caius’s bed. She must have thought the answer was “not much,” because she said, “He’s in his office.”
“Thanks,” Tiffany muttered. She brushed past the woman and hightailed it toward the main office, then skidded to a stop when she was met by a closed door. Caius either wanted privacy as he banged another helpless Host on top his desk or he was meeting with someone.
She pressed her ear against the door and prayed she didn’t hear any hot-and-heavy moaning. She could do without those mental images.
“Yes, I’m very pleased with how it’s been spreading.” Caius’s voice was muffled but made it through the door.
Her eyes widened.
Spreading?
Caius chuckled. “It’s becoming quite widespread in Seattle now. I think we’re off to a great start. It’s moving faster than I expected.”
A moment of silence passed. From the one-sided nature of the conversation, she realized he was on the phone.
“Absolutely not. I’ll ensure it continues to spread here. No newly transitioned vampire will escape its reach. The hunters won’t know what hit them.”
Tiffany gaped as she backed away from the door. That son of a bitch. He
was
helping to spread the virus. Anger hit her like a kick to the gut. The cosmos really had it in for her today. First losing her virginity to the man responsible for her brother’s death, and now her brother’s killer was creating flesh-eating zombies. Just. Friggin’. Peachy.
She cursed under her breath. She’d been foolish to run off. As much as she wanted to hate Damon for what he’d done to her brother, for not saving Mark when he needed it, for what he’d done to
her,
she needed his help to pull this off. An empty feeling balled in her stomach. For a moment, as she’d lain in Damon’s arms last night, she’d actually thought she might not be alone anymore. So much for that.
As quickly as she’d come in the front a few minutes earlier, Tiffany rushed out the back entrance of the club. She jumped and pulled her stake as she almost ran headfirst into Damon.
Their eyes locked, and a pained look crossed his face. It took everything she had not to brush past him, telling him he could kiss her overly round white ass. Despite everything he’d done, meeting his fiery ice-blue eyes sent shivers down her spine and heat tingling between her legs. She hated herself for it, but her anger at him almost made her want him more.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped, ignoring the fact that a minute ago she’d been hoping for his help. “Why are you following me?”
He let out a sigh and stepped even closer to her. She stepped back.
“I’m making sure you don’t get yourself killed. Nothing is going to happen to you on my watch,” he said
“On your watch?” That was it. The hell with his help. “Look, just because I’m not a member of the Execution Underground and I don’t have your strength, that doesn’t mean I’m not a good hunter. You’ve seen me in action, so you know I’m good. Now step back and let me handle this myself.”
He reached out to touch her cheek, but she turned away. He sighed. “I don’t deserve a single ounce of your forgiveness. I know that. But I won’t let you out of my sight. I have to protect you. For Mark’s sake.”
Her hands clenched into fists. If she didn’t think his jaw was as rock-hard as the rest of him, she would have punched him right then and there. “For Mark’s sake?” Who the hell was he kidding? If he thought she was going to buy into that, he was a few Froot Loops short of a bowl. “Cut the ‘I’m sorry’ crap, Damon. Sorry doesn’t cut it when you’re standing right here and Mark’s dead.”
He winced, and she crossed her arms over her chest, hoping she’d hit him where it hurt.
He lowered his eyes to the ground. “I told you I wish I’d been in his place. I’d give anything to go back in time and fix what I did, to save him, but I can’t. I cared for Mark like he was my own brother. I know you don’t see that. All you see is the worthless excuse for a hunter who failed his partner, who might as well have killed your brother himself, but I cared for Mark then, and I still do. Allow me to make it up to him, Tiffany. I’ve never begged for anything, but please, let me do this one thing.”
Without a word, she turned on her heel and marched down the alleyway, leaving him in her dust.
Why would she want to grant him closure? A sharp pang hit her heart. Because, despite all he’d done, a small part of her still cared for him, still wanted him. After their night together, she felt as if she’d known him her whole life, and in some ways she had. She’d heard so many stories about him from her brother, exchanged so many letters with him. The courageous, valiant B.
Damon didn’t follow her. His feet stayed firmly planted on the cold, wet ground. “I know you want to kill Caius as much as I do.”
She stopped in her tracks.
His voice echoed off the walls of the alley. “And we both know you can’t do that without me.”
* * *
If looks could kill, Tiffany’s expression would have massacred an army.
She spun around to face him with her lips pursed tight and her eyes blazing. She stomped toward him, her hands balled into fists as she stared him down—sexy and angry as all hell. Despite the negative emotions swarming him, he fought back a smile. He couldn’t help it. This felt like a Texas standoff with an angry kitten. But as innocent as she seemed, she was pissed, and that kitten had sharp claws ready to rip him to shreds.
“Who says I need your help to kill Caius?” she demanded.
“Just let me protect you. For Mark’s sake. For your sake.” And, if he admitted it to himself, for his own selfish reasons, as well. No other woman could make him so angry and so turned on at the same time.
Shit, what was wrong with him? He could
not
continue to
think about her like that. Once he’d found out who she was, she hadn’t needed to tell him she didn’t want him—he already knew. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t let Mark down again. Whether Tiffany wanted to admit it or not, she needed protection.
“We work together to kill Caius, then you leave me in peace.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “No following me. No protecting me. None of it.”
He let out a long breath. “You’ll stop hunting after that?”
Pausing for a moment, she glanced at the night sky, as if she were weighing all the possibilities. Finally she met his gaze again. “Fine. We kill Caius, and then I retire from hunting vamps. I’ll leave Rochester’s bloodsuckers to you. But if I keep my end of the deal, you agree to leave me alone and never bother me again.”
A large lump lodged in his throat. Though it killed him inside, he nodded.
She was right. Once they murdered Caius, Mark’s death would be avenged. She could stop hunting vampires, and her life would no longer be in danger. His own next task—a task she would never know anything about—would be killing Mark again, exactly as Mark had asked him to. After that there would be no way for him to fulfill Mark’s wishes and honor his memory besides continuing to be a good hunter. He would never forgive himself for the past, but there would be nothing more he could do, and Tiffany could move on with her life, put him and the entire supernatural world behind her.
It was for the best.
They locked eyes. An emotion he couldn’t interpret crossed her face before she quickly looked away.
“All right, then. Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible,” she said.
Damon suppressed a wince. Yeah, that hurt.
For the best,
he repeated silently to himself.
She gestured for him to follow her. “We can’t be hanging out in this alley. Show me where you parked the Z4 while I fill you in.”
He walked ahead of her, leading the way. “Fill me in?”
“While you were out stalking women fully capable of taking care of themselves...”
Shit. How could she have so much power to hurt him? How the hell had he gotten himself into this damn mess?
“...I was going after Caius.”
Damon stopped walking and shot her a glare. “Why do you keep going after Caius alone?”
She frowned. “Because I know he won’t hurt me, at least not for now. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“What do you mean, he won’t hurt you
for now?
What good are you to him if he’s not feeding from you? You said you weren’t a Host.”
She twirled a swath of her perfectly curled hair. “Not exactly.”
His eyes widened. “What do you mean ‘not exactly’?” The thought of Caius feeding off Tiffany, piercing his filthy fangs into the sweet creamy flesh of her throat, draining her of her life force, shoved him into a state of unparalleled rage. “You let that disgusting bloodsucker feed from you?”
She shot him a pissed-off glare. “Don’t insult me. He’s never drunk from me and he never will.” She paused, as if she wasn’t certain she wanted to share. Sucking in a deep breath, she continued. “He
thinks
he’ll get to feed from me, but he won’t. He wants me as a long-term Host, not a quick feed.”
Damon’s hands shook at his sides. It would be so easy to lose his temper and release his rage onto one of the brick walls of the alley, but he would
not
forget his head. He’d buried himself in enough emotions for a lifetime, thanks to Tiffany; allowing any more would be a mistake. She didn’t want him. She wasn’t his to protect. He was protecting her for Mark’s sake. Strictly business.
Forcing his breathing to remain even, he spoke through clenched teeth. “How do you know he won’t change his mind and drain you immediately, or take you without your consent?”
She stared at the ground, refusing to look at him. “I make sure my iron is high. I’m too valuable in the long-term for him to drain me immediately. As for the lack of consent, that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
He pressed his lips together. “I don’t think I need to tell you how st—”
Tiffany glared. “Don’t call me stupid! I—”
Without thinking, Damon stalked forward and grabbed her hands, pinning her hard against the brick wall. They were nose to nose. “I’m not calling you stupid, but your behavior
is
reckless. Don’t try to deny that fact. Now, I’ll let you hunt Caius with me, but that doesn’t mean I’ll allow you to dangle yourself like a piece of succulent meat in front of a ferocious bloodsucking beast. Do you understand?”
She nodded, and he quickly released her. The nearness to her made his stomach churn. It was pure torture, knowing exactly how amazing she felt beneath him, how soft her lips were against his, how sweet she tasted, what a deep and caring heart she had—and knowing he could never have that, never have
her.
“Caius is the one spreading the virus,” she said, breaking the momentary silence. “I don’t know how, but I heard him speaking on the phone before I stormed out of the club. He was talking about the virus spreading, and saying that no new vampire would escape its reach.”
Damon stood in silence, calculating all his possible moves. As much as he would like to, he couldn’t just rush in and kill Caius. If he killed the bastard, which he would, all Caius’s loyal vamp friends would swarm him, and even in the unlikely event that he survived, he would be revealed as a hunter in two seconds flat, not to the vamps alone, but to every supernatural in the city. He needed to get Caius alone, where he could destroy him in private. Then he could figure out how to deal with containing the vamp infection without Caius further aiding its progress.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. “You need to get Caius alone, but you’re never going to manage that unless I lead him to a secluded spot and you rush in.”
Shaking his head, Damon kneaded the base of his neck to ease the tension. “That won’t work. What happens if he attacks you during your meeting? I won’t be there to see it, and I won’t be there to save you.”
Tiffany let out a long breath and placed a hand on her hip. “The Execution Underground can equip you with pretty much any electronic device you need, right?”
He raised an eyebrow. He didn’t think he liked where she was going with this.
A small smile curved her lips. “Have them make me a panic button. One I can keep somewhere Caius won’t see it. Then, if anything happens, I’ll hit it. You’ll have the receiver and you can trail us, so you’ll be able to rush in if I need you.”
Narrowing his eyes, Damon analyzed her expression. She couldn’t be cocky about this. But from the look on her face, she was serious and focused. It killed him to agree to put her in harm’s way for even a moment, but he would be right there to save her. Nothing would happen to her. Nothing.
“I’ll set up a meeting with Caius, and then we’ll go from there. If all goes well, I’ll hit the button when I get him where we want him, danger or not. I’ll make sure it’s completely private. Somewhere no other vamps should be.”
He gave a single nod. She had to know he didn’t like it one bit, but they had no other choice.