"Tell me something?" she asked.
He arched a brow expectantly, but didn't say anything as he kept looking straight ahead. "Do you really like being a Dark-Hunter?"
He glanced at her and smiled a smile that actually showed his fangs. "Tell me how many jobs are out there where you get to play hero every night. My pay is astronomical and I live forever. What is there not to love about this job?"
"But don't you ever get lonely?" she asked. "You can be in a crowd and be lonely."
"I guess so. Still…"
He looked sideways at her. "Why don't you ask me what you want to know?"
"Since you can read my thoughts why don't you answer it?"
His smile widened hungrily like a wolf that had just found its next meal. "Yes, sweeting, I think you're incredibly sexy. And I would love nothing more than to take you back to my place and make your toes curl."
Heat consumed her face. "I hate the way you do that. You're worse than Tabitha. Good Lord, do all Dark-Hunters have that kind of power?"
"No, baby, just me." Then he added, "Each one of us has our own set of abilities."
"I have to say, I really wish you had a different one."
"All right, love. For you, it's gone. No more mind reading."
As Amanda watched him, she realized that even though he was blustery and macho, there was still a decent heart underneath it all. "You're a good man, Hunter."
"I'm a good vampire, you mean."
"Yes, but you don't suck blood."
One corner of his mouth quirked at that. "So Julian told you that, did he?"
"Yes, he did. He said Dark-Hunters, unlike Apollites, were spared that part of Apollo's curse."
"For the record," he said ominously, "we don't need blood to live, but there are some Dark-Hunters, called Feeders, who do drink it." He shifted gears. "I think you and Julian spent entirely too much time talking last night."
"Perhaps." But then Hunter had become her favorite topic. She'd kept poor Julian awake half the night asking things about Kyrian and the Dark-Hunters.
"Is it true Daimons only live twenty-seven years?"
He nodded. "That's why they're so dangerous. Most Apollites will do anything to buy themselves another day."
Which was why the Dark-Hunters, according to Julian, were soulless. It kept the Daimons from taking the most powerful souls of all. And the more powerful the soul the Daimons took, the longer they lived on borrowed time.
"Someone like you," Kyrian said, "is prime Daimon bait. When they take your soul, they take all your psychic powers with it."
Amanda scoffed. "I have no powers."
"Whatever lie makes you happy."
"It's not a lie," she said defensively. "I have no abilities whatsoever. At least not unless it involves crunching numbers."
"All right, number-cruncher, I believe you."
His words might say that, but his voice didn't. Narrowing her eyes on the stubborn man, she directed him toward her house. As they drew near, she saw clouds of gray billowing smoke against the night sky. "Is that a house fire?"
"Yeah, it looks like a big one, too."
"Oh no," she gasped as they got closer and she saw her house on fire.
But Hunter didn't stop there, he went down the street to Tabitha's where another blaze was roaring. Tears filled her eyes as she fumbled for the door latch. "Tabitha!" she screamed, terrified her sister might be inside the house. Faster than she could blink, Hunter got out of the car and ran into the burning house. Her heart hammering, Amanda scrambled from the car.
After kicking off her high heels, she ran to the porch, but didn't dare try to run inside with her bare feet. "Hunter?" she called, trying to see through the flames. "Tabitha!"
Please be okay, tabby. Please still be at work!
As she waited for sight or sound of Kyrian, a motorcycle flew through Tabitha's yard and slid to a screeching halt next to the walkway. Moving like lightning, a man pulled his black helmet off, tossed it to the ground, then ran toward the house so fast she couldn't even make out his features. He went around back at the same time Hunter came out the door, carrying Tabitha's roommate.
Amanda followed Hunter to the lawn where he laid Allison down on the grass.
"Tabitha isn't in there," he said. He inclined his head to Allison's unconscious body.
"She inhaled a lot of smoke." He scanned the street around them; several neighbors stood nearby, but none of them came forward. "Where's the damned ambulance?" he snarled.
Terminator came running up to them. He licked Allison's face, then Amanda. Patting the white and black dog, Amanda looked up to see the man who had arrived on the motorcycle. He was every bit as handsome as Hunter, yet there was something ethereal about him. Mystical.
His blond hair was cut short except for two long braids that fell from his left temple down to the middle of his chest. He wore a zipped-up black motorcycle jacket that had red and gold Celtic scrollwork painted all over it and a thick gold tore around his neck.