He’d never given much thought to who had owned it before it was abandoned.
“There’s something strange about it.” She moved to stand at his side, her brow furrowed. “I think we should open it.”
“We have much bigger things to worry about than some forgotten treasure.”
“I’m not interested in treasure,” she snapped. “There’s something wrong with the aura around it.”
“Aura?” With a roll of his eyes, Roke reached to rip the top off the safe, ignoring the ear-splitting screech of metal as it was wrenched apart. The sooner he was done with Sally’s latest attempt to distract him, the sooner they could deal with the catastrophe she’d created. Peering into the safe, he made a sound of impatience. “It’s empty. Are you happy . . . ?” He frowned, blinking as there was a strange shimmer, like the sheen of a soap bubble before it burst to reveal something at the very bottom. “No, wait. There’s a book.”
Reaching into the safe, Roke was caught off guard when Sally grabbed his arm in a frantic grip.
“No. Don’t touch it.”
He sent her a wary glance. “Why?”
“There’s a spell wrapped around it.” She shivered. “A very nasty spell.”
“Can you get rid of it?”
“Not without time to prepare a counterspell.” She turned to meet his narrowed stare. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re certain I must be lying.” She folded her arms over her chest, her expression militant. “You don’t believe me, go ahead and touch it.”
Yeah, right. As if magic hadn’t screwed up his life enough. He wasn’t about to be turned into a newt. Or worse.
Of course. If he was a newt, then he wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not he’d been trapped with this female for the next eternity.
With a shake of his head, Roke returned to pull on his leather jacket before grabbing Sally around the waist and, with one smooth motion, tossing her over his shoulder.
“This night could truly not get any worse,” he muttered, heading toward the door.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” she protested, slamming her hands against his back.
His arms wrapped around her thighs, keeping her from kicking him.
“If you hope to survive the night, little witch, you’ll keep your mouth shut until I tell you to speak.”
There was another flurry of fists to his back, hard enough to crack a rib.
“Bastard.”
The woods of Wisconsin
Gaius stood hidden in the trees that circled the honky-tonk joint. The wooden structure with a brick chimney that belched smoke toward the star-speckled sky was barely adequate to contain the large crowd of humans that gyrated to the blaring country music. Not that they seemed to notice as they chugged their beer and laughed with increasing frequency.
They were young and arrogant and confident that they were impervious to harm.
Fools.
Not one of them sensed that death hovered just out of sight.
Gaius’s fangs lengthened, the scent of fresh blood overcoming even the stench of brats and sauerkraut. His stomach rumbled. Tasty.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t be hungry. Hadn’t he fed the night before last? Or was it last night?
Time was starting to run together. Something that should have troubled him. Just as his filthy, tangled hair and bloodstained clothing should have troubled him.
Ah well.
With a shake of his head, he moved forward, wincing as the shouts of drunken revelry turned to shrieks of terror.
His pace remained steady. They wouldn’t run. They never ran. At least not anymore.
It was a shame, really.
What was the point of being a predator if you couldn’t chase your prey?
Of course, if he were to be completely honest, he wasn’t certain that he had the energy to play the role of hunter. Since Dara’s return he hadn’t been able to rest. Not just because he had to be on guard to protect her, but fulfilling her constant needs was draining.
Perhaps that explained his incessant hunger. . . .
Climbing the wooden steps, Gaius entered the building and paused to savor the overwhelming emotions that filled the air. In the far corner the twenty humans cowered together in frozen terror, some crying softly while others gave panicked little moans. None, however, made a move to attack him.
Passing by the long, waist-high bar, he reached over to grab the bartender, who had been trying to ram his three-hundred-pound body beneath a shelf. With a strength that revealed his was anything but human, he hauled the struggling man over the bar and with one smooth strike had his teeth buried in the thick neck.
The man screamed, struggling to pull a large knife from its sheath at his waist. Gaius easily knocked the weapon from his hand as he sucked the blood from the bartender’s body, his burning hunger barely assuaged.
Dropping the corpse, he turned his attention toward the huddled mass, pointing his finger toward a slender, dark-haired female.