Both men were large and muscled—nearly as big as Caine. But Caine was part demon. It made sense that he was huge. What were they feeding these humans?
Besides ambrosia, that is. Even from his perch behind the tree he could smell their sickly sweet blood. They reeked of Blodrial’s sacred drink. That meant two things. First, their mission was important. The Brotherhood’s leader wanted them protected; ambrosia cost more than its weight in gold. And second, with that much of the god’s blood flooding their veins, they’d be nearly impervious to Caine’s magic, and stronger than humans should be.
The sun blazed over the treetops, dazzling Caine’s eyes.
The van’s rear door creaked as Blackbeard yanked it open.
The man pulled out a metal canister. Aiming it at the sky, he depressed a button. A blast of fire erupted from the top. Now that was a useful weapon against the vampires.
“All right, my beauties.”
Something in the Hunter’s tone put Caine’s teeth on edge.
As Caine waited for the Hunters to file out of the van for training, Blackbeard stepped into the back. Caine held his breath, anticipating a good look at the Brotherhood’s new crop of soldiers.
Instead, muffled screams broke the silence, and a chill licked Caine’s spine. What the hell is going on? Silently, Caine prowled closer to the valley, and his nostrils filled with the scent of burning flesh. A deadly calm spread through his body like a phantom wind. His own thoughts quieted, and strength surged through his muscles and tendons.
For a split second, he considered turning himself invisible but decided against it. If he was going to slaughter the humans, he wanted them to look into his face before they died. He wanted to see their expressions as they gazed into the fathomless, midnight eyes of demon of the night.
He reached over his shoulder, pulling a sword from its scabbard. I want blood.
In the valley below, someone rushed from the van—a man with brown hair, arms bound behind his back. A cloth gagged his mouth. Caine calculated the man’s speed: too fast for a human. The bound man’s eyes burned with terror as he looked at the rising sun.
Vampire.
Another followed—a woman with pale blonde hair, her gray eyes panicked like a hunted deer’s. She stared up at the sunlight, and tendrils of smoke rose from her skin, and Caine felt a shock of recognition. Valerie. She’s here?
He broke into a sprint as Blackbeard yanked another vampire into the sunlight. He couldn’t save them all, and the desire for Hunter blood slammed into him like a tsunami.
A wave of wrath slammed into Caine, and he headed straight for Blackbeard.
As he thundered down the hill, the Hunter’s gaze met his. Blackbeard pulled a gun. Caine pressed on, closing the distance over the grassy field, sword ready, even as Blackbeard pulled the trigger.
Bullets slammed into Caine’s flesh, but battle fury blazed through him, numbing the pain. His eyes remained locked on his target. At the edges of his consciousness, he was dimly aware of the vampire’s torment—their screams and burning bodies—but he blocked all that out. Only one thought burned through his skull: slay the Hunters.
A predatory sureness filled each of his muscles, guiding him closer to his target. As he closed in, he swung for Blackbeard. His sword sliced clean through the enemy’s neck, severing flesh and bone. Blood sprayed through the air in a high arc, and a dark thrill rushed through Caine’s body.
Before he could swing again, pain pierced his chest. He glanced down—not bullets this time. An iron stake. His cold gaze landed on Blondie. Kill him. Caine stalked across the ground, ripping the iron stake from his chest. A few inches to the right, and he’d be dead now.
His face blanching, the man turned to run, and the sight of his retreat triggered Caine’s most primal instincts. The Hunter only made it a few paces through the grass before Caine ran his sword through the Hunter’s ribcage. His body twitched, and Caine’s heart raced. A rivulet of crimson blood dripped from the man’s mouth.
Caine pulled out his blade, and the Hunter crumpled to the ground.
Caine turned to look at the field. Around him, vampires burned like torches. Most had fallen to the ground, but a few staggered around, limbs blazing. Agonized screams filled the air. It was too late for all of them.
As Caine’s most violent instincts subsided, dread overwhelmed him. Among the flaming, blackened bodies, he couldn’t even identify Valerie.
The sound of a muffled scream turned his head. Only one vampire remained—one who’d crawled under the van, cowering in the shadows of the wheel wells. Smoke rose from her skin, but she’d found her way into the shade. Thank the gods, Aurora is alive.
He rushed to the van and pulled her out, shielding her with his body, then ushered her into the back of the van. Eyes trailing over the blisters that covered her arms, he yanked a dagger out of his belt and cut the gag from her mouth.