I'll Be Slaying You(34)

Dee—Dee, why didn’t you help me? Sara. Always blaming her.

So many voices. So many.

Why, bitch, why’d you come after me? The vampires. Their last words haunted her.

Fucking whore. More of my kind will come. More. You can’t stop us. Twisted murmurs that followed her into the darkness.

She couldn’t escape the voices. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t—

“Dee. Dee. Wake up.” Strong hands shook her.

Her eyelids flew open. Simon stared down at her, his hair tousled, his face grim. “Someone’s here.”

A surge of adrenaline had her out of the bed and dressed in moments. They ran to the outer room. Dee grabbed two stakes and a gun.

Simon didn’t reach for a weapon. Funny, she’d actually never seen him armed.

She killed the lights and inched toward the window. A car door slammed outside. Gravel crunched beneath someone’s feet. Carefully, she pushed the curtain back, just a tiny crack of space.

Darkness without, to match the blackness within.

Night had fallen.

The vampires would be at full strength again.

But since when did vamps come right up to your front door when they wanted to attack?

Her eyes adjusted almost instantly to the dark and she motioned with her hand, pointing for Simon to take up a position on the left hand side of the door. The right side would be hers.

As she watched, the door knob began to turn. What? The bastard had picked the lock? Skilled SOB.

Not that lock-picking talents would save his ass.

Dee waited in the darkness. Silent. Steady.

The door swung open. The scum walked inside.

Dee attacked.

She moved fast and came in hard. She caught the guy with a hard punch in the gut, then slung him back and rammed him into the wall.

Simon slammed the door closed. Good. Who knew how many of the bastards were out there? Better to separate them and make them weaker.

“Start talking,” Dee ordered, pulling out her stake. “How many of your asshole friends are out there waiting for their turn to jump me?”

The guy moved, shifting from a hunched shadow to the tall, strong form of a man. Dee stared at him, frowning as—

“Dammit, Dee! Why the hell do you always have to punch first?”

She knew that voice. “Simon, hit the lights.”

A bright flood of light lit up the room, and Dee stared at an all too familiar face. “Tony? What are you doing here?”

He pressed a hand to his stomach. Groaned, then said, “I’m here to arrest you for murder.”





Chapter 7




“The hell you are.” Simon lunged forward. No one would be taking Dee away from him. No one.

And sure as shit not the bastard who’d been her lover.

Captain Antonio Young lifted his chin and glared at him. “Who are you?” His hand still rubbed his wounded stomach.

“The guy who’s been watching her ass.” Simon let his lips curve into a feral smile. “And there’s no damn way you’ll be taking Dee out of here.” But if the cop wanted to try…

Come and get some.

“Simon.” Dee caught his hand. The cop’s eyes dropped at the move, narrowed. Oh, didn’t like that, huh? Too bad.

She bit her lip. “Are you…are you okay, Tony?”

He instantly dropped the hand he’d been pressing against his stomach. “Fine.” Bit off. “I thought you were up here alone.”

Ah, so that’s why Lancelot had come bounding to the cabin.

“How did you know I was even out here?”

Dark eyes flickered over her face. Too much emotion there. “I know you pretty well, Dee. I knew where you’d go if you wanted sanctuary.” He held up a key. “And I stayed here with you before, remember?”

The hell he had. Simon’s vision bled to red. So what—Dee had a habit of bringing lovers here?

Not any longer she didn’t and if that pretty boy kept looking at her with his puppy dog eyes, he’d plant a fist in the guy’s face.

Dee glanced at Simon, then looked away quickly. “I remember. That was a long time ago.”

Good to know, and Simon didn’t want to hear any more about that. “Dee didn’t kill the woman.”

The cop blinked, then looked over at Dee’s left hand. Her fingers were clenched around a wooden stake. “Evidence says otherwise.”

“It was a setup,” Simon gritted. “The vamps want to take her down.”

“Why?”

Dee jerked away from him and marched toward the weapons cabinet. Some women collected figurines, Dee—

Instruments of death.

“Why the hell would they go to all that trouble?” The cop, Tony, shook his head. “Vamps don’t work like that. They kill, drain a vic dry, and—”

“And some of ’em are sick freaks who get off on playing with their prey.” Not all, though. Not all were like that. Dee would learn that truth. Eventually. “They want to break Dee. Not just kill her. By setting her up, they rip her out of her nice, safe world.” Not that Dee was much for safety. “They tear her away from her friends, isolate her—” He broke off, shaking his head. No, he couldn’t say any more.