Fangs For The Memories. Kathy Love
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were closed.
The shadows shifted again, and she realized that there was another man in the alley. He looked toward her, but she couldn’t quite make out his features, the light only illuminating his profile. But from his height and his width, he couldn’t be Joey.
The shadowed man released Rhys. Rhys crumpled to the ground.
Jane stared at his downed form, sickness welling in her belly. Rhys had to be all right. But she had a terrible feeling he wasn’t.
“Well, silly mortal, this is what they call, ‘being in the wrong place at the wrong time.’”
Jane blinked. The man who had been beside Rhys was now directly in front of her. Had she been focusing on Rhys so intently that she didn’t notice the other man moving toward her?
“Wh—what did you do to Rhys?”
He took another step closer. The streetlight illuminated his face.
Despite her fear, Jane couldn’t help but notice he was breathtakingly handsome with dark blond hair, streaked with gold, and pale eyes.
“So you know Rhys? Very interesting. I didn’t think he mingled with mortals—at least not pretty, little, pure ones.”
She shook her head slightly. Why did he keep referring to her as a mortal? Was this street lingo of some sort? Lingo meaning that she was mortal, thus capable of dying?
Before she could even think to move away from him, his hand snaked out and caught her wrist. She tugged and dug her heels into the pavement, but it was useless. He hauled her into the alley as easily as if she were held by a steel manacle.
“Let’s go see what is wrong with Rhys,” he said, almost cheerfully.
He dragged her up to Rhys’s prone body. Rhys’s head was still at an awkward angle, and now, Jane could see why. Thick blood glistened on his neck, and she could see his throat had literally been ripped open.
She put her free hand up to cover her mouth. Not that her trembling fingers could suppress her scream or the bile rising up the back of her throat.
The man, still clasping her, laughed.
She sank to her knees, both in horror and distress, but he jerked her back up and spun her to face him. Her shoulder throbbed, but she barely registered the pain.
“Unfortunately, now that you have seen my brother, well,” he said with a regretful tilt of his head, “I can’t let you go.”
And just like that, the man’s features changed. At first, Jane thought the distortion had to be a trick of the dim light. Or the terrible fear wracking her body.
Then he smiled, and she saw the light glint off his long, razor-sharp teeth. This had to be a nightmare, but she knew it was real. She didn’t know what he was, but he was real. And he really meant to kill her.
She screamed again. And again, he laughed.
She began yanking frantically, trying to break his unyielding hold. That was when she realized she still held the small hair spray can in her captured hand.
As the monster’s head lowered toward her, those vicious teeth coming closer, Jane grabbed the can with her other hand and sprayed a steam of Extra Firm Hold directly in his eyes.
He cried out, the sound eerie and keening like a wounded animal. He released her as his hands went to his face.
Jane didn’t waste a moment. She turned and ran. But she never even made it to the street. Blackness encompassed her, and she dropped to the ground like a bug sprayed by Raid.
Sebastian stood over his wounded brother. Rhys looked as though he’d been gored by a wild animal. But Sebastian could tell by the bite marks that it had been a vampire attack. He couldn’t detect the identity of the vamp, however. The vampire had used a masking hex to cover his or her tracks.
Sebastian knelt down, holding a palm over Rhys’s chest. He’d already checked once, but he felt the need to check again. Just to be sure.
He felt faint waves of energy radiating from his motionless chest. Rhys would be okay, but it was a close call.
Sebastian wiped a hand over his face, still shaken. He’d been back at his nightclub, having a lovely dinner with a delightful mortal, who not only happened to enjoy a nice meal, but also loved being a meal as well, when he’d sensed Rhys’s pain.
No, he hadn’t just sensed the pain. He had experienced it. He pressed a hand to his neck. The throbbing was still there, but not as intense as it had been.
He and Rhys had always had a connection. Blood-related vampires often did—but he’d never received a contact that vivid before. And it was probably a good thing it had been that powerful. He’d sped to Rhys—and likely saved him.
He glanced at the male mortal near Rhys. He could tell Rhys had fed off him. But the feeding was not Rhys’s usual style. He didn’t usually drain them quite so much. The man would live, but he was going to be a hurting unit for a while.
Sebastian stood and walked over to the mortal woman lying facedown in the middle of the alley. She was unconscious and unhurt. He could sense a memory hex around her. Probably the other vampire had cleared her memory, so she wouldn’t recall what happened here tonight. But what shocked Sebastian as much as anything was the scent of Rhys all over this woman.
Rhys wouldn’t normally interact with a wholesome mortal like this one. But Sebastian could smell not only Rhys’s scent, but also his desire heavy on her skin.
What the hell happened in this alley tonight? And he thought he’d been having an exciting Christmas Eve.
He bent and scooped up the female, hefting her onto his shoulder. Then he returned to his brother and balanced him on the other shoulder.
It was times like this when being able to shift into shadows really came in handy. Wandering through the streets with a couple of unconscious people slung on your shoulders tended to raise a few eyebrows. Even in New York.
Christian stood on the roof of the bar, peering down at his baby brother as he lifted Rhys and the female mortal and dissolved into shadow.
Christian gritted his teeth. That may have been the only chance he’d ever have to kill his older brother, and that stupid mortal had ruined it. Rhys would never be caught off guard again, and Christian couldn’t take him without the element of surprise.
He looked at the sky. The sun would be up soon. The sun that had killed Lilah.
No, Rhys killed Lilah. It had just taken him a hundred years to make it happen. For Lilah to finally give up—and end her own existence. She’d risen from their bed and walked out into the blazing noonday sun.
He didn’t know how, but Christian would make Rhys pay. He’d been patient this long. He could be patient as long as it took.
Chapter 4
Rhys stretched. Damn, his muscles ached.
Had he been working with one of his horses yesterday? His groggy, sleep-filled mind could not seem to recall.
He supposed it did not really matter. He’d just stay in bed where it was nice and warm. With this nice and warm…
Rhys sat upright and looked down at the woman sharing his bed.
Ah, so this was why his body felt so tired. Although he did not recall bedding a woman last night. Had he been foxed? Had he and Christian gone on one of their wild sojourns to the gaming hells?
He frowned. Was this woman a lightskirt? He made it a practice to never bring whores back to his home. His sister, Elizabeth, was only seventeen. Plus, that was just bad show.
He turned his attention back to the woman beside him. She did not look like any of the whores he’d known. Her face was turned slightly away from him, but he could still tell she wore no rouge on her lips, nor any