Hunter's Fall (5 page)

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Authors: Shiloh Walker

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Paranormal, #Fiction

BOOK: Hunter's Fall
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She gave the nonverbal equivalent of
Shhh . . . it’s okay. Just wanted to check on you
. And that she did—the girl was most definitely in the theater, as were her friends.
Feeling a bit reassured, she opened her eyes and focused on Malachi’s face. “Mei-Lin will be here shortly. It’s her birthday and she’s gone to the pictures.” She paused and took a deep breath. “She was to have a friend spend the night, but I guess I should reschedule that.”
Malachi just watched her.
“She’ll be cross with me,” Nessa said, forcing a smile.
“She’s a good lass. She’ll understand.”
“Hmmm. Perhaps. Although if I knew whatever the trouble was, it might make it easier to explain, wouldn’t you agree?”
 
 
T
HEY left Nessa’s small house to drive to the theater. Malachi wouldn’t go for remaining at the house. Truthfully, Nessa was glad he came along, and not just because it was amusing to watch as the big vampire forced his large body into the front seat of her Ford Fusion.
“I’d have more room in a tin can, love.”
“Oh, nonsense. Besides, you can’t drive a tin can.” She started the car and backed up, zipping along the roads with careless speed.
“You can’t crash a tin can, either,” Malachi muttered, maintaining a white-knuckled grip on the doorframe.
Plastic cracked and she shot him a disapproving glance. “If you make a mess of my car, vampire, I’ll have your arse.”
She could almost
see
how much it took for him to ease up. “How did you get any sort of license, driving like this?” He gave her a sour look. “You didn’t magic some fool into it, did you?”
“Of course not.” Nessa smiled serenely. “I don’t have a license.”
She checked the opposite lane of the narrow two-lane highway and darted around a semi, grinning as the driver laid on the horn when she squeezed in front of him.
“Fuck me,” Malachi mumbled. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the passenger seat. “Damn good thing I’m not mortal—you’d give me a heart attack.”
As they neared the interstate, she reached over and patted the white-knuckled fist he had resting on his knee. “You worry too much, my friend. Turning into a boring old fusspot.”
He shot her a narrow glance. “Very few people would dare call me a fusspot.”
She opened her mouth but the words locked in her throat.
Blood roared in her ears. She barely had the presence of mind to pull the car onto the narrow shoulder before she wrecked it. Her hands shook, cold and clammy on the steering wheel.
“Mal . . .”
It came as a cold wind.
Death. Uncaring, unstoppable.
Malachi felt it as well—she could tell by the tight expression on his face, the blue light glowing in his eyes.
She shot him a dazed look. For a few short moments, she could hardly breathe.
The sound of her mobile phone buzzing hit like a fist, stealing the breath from her lungs. She grabbed it, recognizing Mei-Lin’s picture on the display.
“Nessa, hey, you didn’t answer the home phone.”
“Mei-Lin, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing.” Then she paused.
In the background, Nessa could hear the girls talking and their voices lacked the excited, happy tone from earlier. Then Mei-Lin sighed and said, “Kim ran into this guy she was dating at the theater. He started being a real jerk and I told him to back off. He started yelling at me and some guy in the row in front of us told him to back off and then . . .” Her voice trailed off. She was quiet for a minute and then said, “Kim just wanted to leave. So we left. I wanted to let you know we’d be there soon and—”
There was a scream.
A crash.
And Nessa felt it as death came in and claimed yet more lives.
 
 
S
HE cried.
His pretty little witch was crying.
Standing in a field of stone, surrounded by people, yet utterly alone.
Day bled into night and the people drifted from her side and still she cried. She was alone now, save for one woman and one man.
Anger bit into him as the man—the
vampire
—dared to lift a hand to touch the witch. Dared to wrap a big arm around her slender shoulders and draw her close.
Tears choked him.
Her pain racked him.
He wanted to reach out to her.
He
wanted to be the one to comfort her, to hold her against him as she wept.
But when he whispered her name, she didn’t hear him.
 
 
D
OMINIC came awake with her name on his lips and a tearing pain in his heart.
Snarling, he fought free of the covers and dashed a hand over his damp face. Crying. Damn it. Again. Dreams of some woman he’d never met and he wakes up crying. He stared at the pink smears on his fingertips and stormed into the bathroom to wash away the blood-tinged tears.
With water dripping from his face, he looked at the mirror. A muscle worked in his jaw and he gripped the edge of the marble counter.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” he muttered.
He was obsessed. Obsessed, dreaming about the same woman, night after night, year after year. And now he was even crying like some fucking pansy in his dreams.
“What in the hell is this?” Shoving away from the counter, he strode to the enclosed shower and turned on the water with an angry flick of his wrist. He needed a damn hot shower, he needed a good hard run, maybe even a down and dirty fight—if he could get all three of those, it might lighten his dark mood.
But somehow he doubted it.
The dreams were getting worse, and he had a bad feeling he knew why.
Dominic Ralston was going crazy.
 
 
F
IVE minutes later, he climbed out of the shower and stood naked in front of the mirror as he towel-dried off. Although legend might say otherwise, vampires did have reflections, and Dominic’s looked the same now as it had the night his human life had ended. Five ten, 170 pounds of lean, ropy muscle stretched over a frame that probably needed another twenty pounds on it. He’d been in medical school when the Change had been pushed onto him.
Now he’d forever look like that medical student, running on caffeine, nerves and not enough food or sleep. It was a fact he’d come to accept, and he was grateful he’d been on the skinnier side since this was the body he’d live with until somebody put a silver knife through his heart or relieved him of the burden of his head.
There was no telling how long that could be, though. It could be tonight or it could be in a couple hundred years. Hunters lived erratic, somewhat dangerous lives. And very often, they were lonely lives.
Damned lonely. Damned empty.
Oh, he could have found a lover. He could maybe even have found one who understood his life, who would share those nights and days with him.
But unless it was the
right
someone, he wasn’t interested. And lately, it seemed the right someone only existed in his dreams.
Dreams about a sad, blue-eyed witch, dreams that left him crying in his sleep.
Yeah. He was pretty sure he was going crazy.
CHAPTER 2
 
CHICAGO
ONE YEAR LATER
 
S
o high up. What were people thinking, making something reach so high into the sky?
Nessa peered down at the earth far below, so far that the people down there didn’t really look like people. More like little bugs scurrying back and forth.
“Why don’t you just jump?”
It was only the third time Morgan had said it. If Nessa didn’t know better, she’d think the ghost was getting bored.
“I won’t jump because that would be too easy for you,” she said, her voice flat and cold. “Too easy for us both.”
“Easy . . . what in the fuck do you care if it’s easy for you? You want it over, so just end it already. Be done with it.”
Nessa swayed forward. Tempted. So very tempted. But she wouldn’t do it. It
was
too easy. Just too easy. Which meant something would go wrong. If she jumped, she wouldn’t die. She might well break every bone in this body and end up a fucking vegetable, but she suspected deep down that she wouldn’t die.
God hated her too much to let her die.
“You know one thing I finally figured out, Morgan? I can’t die. Not the easy way at least.” She smiled humorlessly and murmured, “It would seem you’re stuck with me.”
Even as she swore, Morgan faded away. She wasn’t strong enough to come to Nessa’s mind for too long anymore. Definite plus, there. Nessa might not care for her body as she should, but the weaker
she
felt, the weaker Morgan was.
“Have you lost your mind?”
She glanced behind her and the wind whipped her hair into her eyes, blinding her. She caught it in her hand, holding it back from her face as she stared at Malachi.
Lifting a brow, she said, “Where the bloody hell did you come from?”
“What in the bloody hell are you doing?” he fired back. “Damn it, you have gone insane.”
Malachi didn’t look too impressed with the view from the top of the skyscraper. “I thought we had already decided on that particular subject, Mal.”
Although he didn’t age, Nessa decided he looked older now than he had a year before. Something akin to guilt tried to stir within her, but she simply didn’t care enough.
She’d tried. Well and truly, she’d tried to settle back into this life that had been thrust upon her, tried to view it as the
gift
everybody else made it out to be. But then the one thing she had viewed as a gift—Mei-Lin—had been torn from her. That girl . . . Nessa had loved that girl like a daughter. More than.
She’d loved her, and just like Elias, Mei-Lin had been taken away from her.
It was just too much. That precious girl, all of her friends, all dead.
If this was the sort of gift
life
offered, Nessa wanted none of it.
Malachi, the poor fool, he worried. All of her friends did. Nessa wished she could care.
But she just didn’t.
Looking from Malachi, she cocked her head and stared down at the street. “They are all in such a hurry,” she murmured. She slid Malachi a glance and asked, “Why do you think mortals always rush to and fro, Mal? Don’t they know that all that rushing accomplishes nothing? They’ll still get sick. They’ll still suffer. They’ll still die.”
“Lovely, morbid thoughts there, love.” He blew out a disgusted sigh and edged a little closer. Stretching out his hand, Malachi quietly said, “Come down, Nessa.”
“Hmmm . . .” A gust of wind picked up and as she held out her arms, it slapped against her with an intensity that made her clothes flap around her and had her swaying near the edge of one of the tallest buildings in the world.
In the middle of the fucking day. Malachi stared at her and then made the fool mistake of glancing down. While he tried to pretend he wasn’t dizzy, Nessa giggled like a loon and murmured, “It almost makes me feel as though I could fly, Malachi. Truly fly, like a bird.”
“You’re not a bird, pet. What you’ll do is fall—like a stone.” Without feeling the least bit of shame, he backed away from the edge.
After walking the world for a good two thousand years, there was little that bothered him, but he had to admit standing on top of the Sears Tower was on the list. Wouldn’t be so bad if she’d decided to do her sightseeing from
inside
the tower.
No, she was outside, on the roof, a place that wasn’t exactly open to the public. He doubted she cared about that little detail, however. It was possible they wouldn’t have too long before somebody came to investigate.
Mortals, they had their cameras everywhere. He scanned the area, looking for one of the infernal things, and found a number of them. “You know, there are cameras. Where there are cameras, there are often security types watching for suspicious activity. I hope you kept them in mind when you decided to visit this particular spot.”
Nessa glanced at the cameras and rolled her eyes. “Bunch of silly electronics. They’re all scrambled, and if I know security types, they’ll be too busy trying to find the reason inside with their computers, gizmos and gadgets.” She laughed. “Not a one of them will think to come looking out here and see if maybe a witch was in the area. We’re bad on devices of an electrical nature at times.”
Witches and technology didn’t always mix well. She could short-circuit a camera from ten paces away . . . if she chose.
“Yes. I’m married to a witch, and I’ve been around them long enough to know they can fry those computers, gizmos and gadgets practically on purpose if they’ve a need.”

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