Deadly Pursuit (A Blood Hunter Novel, #2) (65 page)

He
shook
his
head
and
placed
his
glass
on
the
table.
If
he
was
going
to
die,
there
were
one
or
two
things
he
wanted
to
do
first.
And
he
didn’t
want
to
be
unconscious
when
it
happened.
He
wanted
to
be
with
Alex.

Rico
was
watching
him
with
that
same
lazy
smile,
and
he
realized
he
felt
comfortable
with
the
vampire,
as
he
hadn’t
done
with
anyone
else
in
a
long,
long
time.

Jesus.
A
vampire.

He
had
no
idea
why
vamps
and
weres
were
enemies;
it
was
one
of
those
things
entrenched
in
pack
law,
probably
brought
from
Earth,
and
the
real
reasons
lost
with
the
planet.
But
packs
were
territorial,
they
didn’t
like
sharing
their
land
with
other
predators,
while
he’d
always
believed
vampires
were
natural
loners
who
didn’t
like
sharing
anything
with
anyone.
Rico
was
obviously
an
exception.

“So
why
the
interest?”
he
asked.

Rico
shrugged.
“I’m
figuring
out
how
much
of
a
liability
you’re
going
to
be.
We
need
people
who
can
keep
a
clear
head
and
not
rush
in
the
first
moment
someone
looks
in
need
of
saving.”

“I
don’t
go
in
for
the
saving
stuff
anymore.”

“Except
with
Alex.”

“I
told
you—”
He
gave
up.
Who
was
he
kidding?
“Yeah,
except
for
Alex.”

If
he’d
ever
considered
the
sort
of
woman
he
might
fall
for,
Alex
was
probably
the
complete
opposite.
Always
before,
he’d
gone
for
strong,
athletic
types
who
could
take
care
of
themselves
and
wouldn’t
be
too
much
of
a
burden
on
that
overdeveloped
protective
streak
of
his.
Alex
was
so
small.
Even
in
those
ridiculous
heels,
she
only
came
up
to
his
chest.
But
while
she
was
small,
she
wasn’t
weak.
Maybe
a
little
thoughtless
occasionally,
but
he
reckoned
that
came
from
too
many
years
of
having
other
people
do
her
thinking
for
her.
And
her
breasts
weren’t
small.
They
were
perfect.
He
closed
his
eyes
again
and
pictured
her
naked.
Pale
skin
and
freckles.
His
mouth
pulled
into
a
smile.
The
sensation
was
odd.
He
didn’t
smile
much
these
days.

“You
are
in
deep
shit.”

Rico’s
words
interrupted
his
mental
image,
and
Jon’s
smile
turned
into
a
scowl.
Rico
leaned
forward
and
filled
Jon’s
glass.
“I’m
looking
at
a
man
who
has
given
up
the
fight.”
He
pushed
the
full
glass
toward
him.
“You
need
a
drink.”

Had
he
given
up
the
fight?
But
Rico
had
no
reason
to
talk.
“What
about
you
and
Skylar?
I
hardly
see
you
fighting.”

A
slow
smile
spread
across
the
vampire’s
face.
“Yeah,
but
the
difference
is—Skylar
could
protect
me,
not
the
other
way
around.
She’s
one
scary
woman.”
Rico
seemed
far
from
displeased
with
the
idea,
and
Jon
felt
the
need
to
defend
Alex.

“Alex
has
killed
two
men
in
the
last
few
days.”

“Yeah,
she’s
a
hardened
killer
all
right.”
Rico
relaxed
back
in
his
chair,
closed
his
eyes,
and
sipped
his
drink.

His
little
hardened
killer.
But
she
wasn’t
his
.
And
he
had
no
right
to
try
and
make
her.
What
could
a
miserable
bastard
like
himself
offer
her?
She
was
young
and
still
excited
about
life.
If
they
did
somehow
manage
to
survive
the
Collective,
he
must
do
the
honorable
thing
and
walk
away.

“Dios,”
Rico
muttered.
“I
can
feel
the
self-pity
oozing
back
from
over
here.”

Jon
ignored
the
comment,
and
they
sat
in
almost
comfortable
silence
for
a
while.

Would
Alex
be
in
bed
now?
Naked
perhaps.
Would
she
be
lying
awake,
worrying
about
him?
Should
he
go
tell
her
he
was
okay?
Then
tell
her
why
she
should
forget
him?

He
swallowed
the
last
of
the
whiskey
and
slammed
the
glass
on
the
table.
That’s
what
he
had
to
do.
Go
see
her.
Tell
her
why
he
shouldn’t
be
there.
He
pushed
himself
to
his
feet.
Swayed
a
little
but
balanced
himself
with
a
hand
to
the
back
of
his
seat.
The
room
swam.

Rico
opened
one
eye.
“Where
are
you
going?”

“To
see
Alex.
I
have
to
tell
her
all
the
reasons
I’m
bad
for
her.”