---------------------------------
A full ten minutes of traipsing through the forest had passed before Nicole gathered her thoughts enough to speak beyond calling Fane a jackass.
“What’s apish-wa?” she asked.
“A blood whore.” She nearly tripped over a broken branch that Riker had nimbly avoided. “Watch where you’re going,” he said, as if she had been trying to fall on her face.
“You called me a blood whore?”
“Not just any blood whore.” He sounded mildly insulted. “A personal blood whore whom, by vampire law, no one can drink from without permission.”
“Oh,” she said dryly. “That makes it better.”
“Did you want me to share with them?” He forged ahead, blazing a trail through the thick brush. “They’re probably within hearing distance if we shout.”
She glared at his back and decided not to respond to his sarcasm. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“To my clan.”
She’d had a feeling he’d say that. So now what?
Did she go with him, or did she try to run away? Not that she’d get far. Even if she got past the hunters and poachers, she wouldn’t get past Riker.
Besides, after the night in the cave, her hatred for him was waning. She didn’t trust him, certainly. But she was starting to understand him and why he and his clan would go to such great lengths to save Neriya.
Wouldn’t she do the same if the roles were reversed and his clan had captured someone she cared about?
Still, the idea of going back to the clan made her heart sink.
“The prey room again,” she whispered to herself, but Riker stopped, his boots crunching on old pine needles.
“I’m taking you to our lab. You can hang out with Grant. He’s our resident scientist. A little insane but mostly harmless. Given your background, I’m thinking you’ll be more comfortable there.”
Stunned, she opened her mouth to thank him, but he threw his hand out, stopping her in her tracks. Except for the flare of his nostrils, he’d frozen solid, and chills ran up her spine. What now? Another enemy clan?#p#分页标题#e#
More poachers? A bear?
At this point, she’d be happy to see a bear. She was rapidly learning that four-legged animals were far less frightening than those on two legs.
Very slowly, Riker looked up. Nicole followed his gaze and barely suppressed a startled squeak.
Above them, crouching on a thick tree branch, was a woman. Her crossbow sights were trained on Riker,but where the woman was looking, Nicole ha d no idea. Her eyes were hidden behind wraparound sunglasses, the camouflage-painted frames matching her skintight garb which made her nearly invisible against the backdrop of trees and moss.
The woman didn’t move a muscle until Rikerstarted walking again. Even then, the woman d ipped her head a mere fraction of an inch, but it was just enough for Nicole to catch a glimpse of silver-blond hair tucked under a black stocking cap.
When they were out of crossbow range—Nicole hoped—she tapped Riker on the shoulder. It was like tapping on a marble statue. “Who was that?”
“Sabbat. She’s a hunter.”
She lifted her brows at him. “You seem pretty nonchalant about a human who hunts your kind.”
Riker lifted her across a narrow but deep stream.
“If she’d been hunting us, we’d have died before we knew she was there.”
“How . . . comforting.” What was comforting was his hands on her waist, holding her steady as he effortlessly lowered her on the far side of the water. When he released her, the warmth of his touch remained like a brand, and she had to resist the urge to smooth her fingers over the tingly sensation.
Nicole Martin, you’re an idiot.
His lips quirked into the barest semblance of a smile. “Sabbat only takes out problem vampires.”
“Problem vampires?”
Riker ducked a branch and then held it out of theway for her. He was being far more g entlemanly than he’d been yesterday. “Vampires your government has issued execution orders for.”
Just last week, a local news station had reportedthat hunters were looking for a vampire who h ad fallen into bloodlust. She wondered if Sabbat was one of those hired to handle the situation.
“And you’re okay with that?”
He shrugged, the stacked layers of muscle in his bare back shifting under the weapons harness. Nicole had never been attracted to warrior types, let alone vampire warrior types, but something about him had made her normal tastes in men go haywire.
“If a vampire is out of control and drawing attention to us, we want him or her gone,” he said, with another shrug of those magnificent shoulders. “Hell, we do it ourselves if we can. Sabbat goes after the worst of the worst, and as long as it stays that way, we don’t give her trouble.”