A Midsummer Night's Demon

chapter Six

The vampire materialized into the park, and sent his senses out through the thick forest to find his prey. She was the only being in the park. Waiting for him—for death. His mouth watered at the thought.

She’d eluded him for the past week. He’d gone to her home several times, taken some of her clothes hoping to track her by her unique scent, but neither yielded any results. He’d given up on finding her but then his luck changed, and he received her email.

He started down the boardwalk, his pace purposely slow. The vampire let his senses flow over the marshy land, in search of anything unusual—any sign of a trap. This had been a little too easy. Her contacting him, offering to meet. It was almost as if she had a death wish, wanted him to find her. And that made his instincts scream in warning.

His eyes darted from side to side, keeping constant watch. He flowed with a grace of his kind on silent feet, careful not to give his location away as he made his way over the wooden boards.

Acute senses noted every detail of his surroundings, he continued to move forward, stalking his prey. Animals stilled and crickets stopped their chirping. Sensing a predator more deadly than themselves, the bull gators ceased their gurgling mating roars at his approach. Birds flew from their nests, diving through the trees to escape the evil permeating the area.

A wicked grin came to the vampire’s face.

Fly away cowards. Fly from Raziel in fear.

He loved the power he wielded over life and death. He commanded death, giving it when the mood suited him. The helpless little one that waited now was no better than the other creatures in this place. Her species was beneath him. Vampires should have domain over the earth. His mate had agreed. Memories of her flooded his mind.

The two of them had hunted a remote Romanian village almost to extinction one summer. It had been glorious until the village priest—Victor had been his name—discovered their daylight hiding place. He woke one evening to find the man staking his wife.

“But I made sure he suffered, Adriana,” Raziel whispered to the heavens. “Oh how Victor suffered at my hands.” The memory of the fear in the priest’s swollen eyes and bloodied body brought a smile to his face.

The breeze brought her scent to him and his fangs pushed from his gums. He could smell her fear. The adrenaline it produced would mix with her blood to make an intoxicating combination. Her blood had been delicious the last time he’d sampled it. After a week in the hospital, her blood would be at a full volume. He would take his time, drain every last drop before leaving her body to the gators. He licked his lips in anticipation.

When he rounded the corner, his prey came into view. She sat under the statue, her legs bouncing with—he took a deep breath—apprehension.

The waiting ratcheted her anxiety. He could smell it. He watched her shiver, her skin pebbled with goose bumps. The sound of the nocturnal creatures stilled into a haunting silence. Her gaze flew to the night sky, tracking the birds as they darted between the tree branches to flee.

His eyes paused on her long, exposed neck, watching her pulse pound hard under her flesh for a moment before he pulled his gaze to her face.

“Hello, Lyn.” Raziel’s voice dripped with menace.

Her eyes darted from the sky to lock with his. She paused, staying motionless like the proverbial deer in the headlights. “Juan,” she yelled, knowing no other name by which to call him. “You are here.”

Good Lord. Did she think him deaf? He cocked his head to one side. His eyebrows narrowed in confusion over his steely eyes as he pushed a hand through his sandy blond hair. “You don’t have to yell, darling. I can hear quite well. And I have a confession to make. My name is not Juan. It’s Raziel.”

He watched her eyes dart over to a copse of Banyan trees, surprised she had not commented on his revelation regarding his name. Was she looking for something? Someone? He turned his head in the direction of her gaze and sent his senses flowing in that direction.

Tackled from behind, the force of the blow knocked Raziel from his feet. He threw his hands out in front of him to catch himself, hissing when the skin on his left wrist began to burn. A pair of handcuffs dangled from his arm, white wisps of smoke wafting around the metal.

****

Ky materialized and landed on top of the vampire, pinning him beneath the heavy weight of his body. The male squirmed beneath him to buck him off. He reached out to capture the vampire’s wrist and managed to get one cuff on the vampire. It would be enough to keep him from dematerializing, but it wouldn’t do much to stop him from being able to fight. If he couldn’t get his other wrist captured, this could get ugly fast. Ky reached for the debauchee’s other arm, but Lyn’s attacker bucked and twisted beneath him, leaving Ky no choice but to forestall his venture to capture his arm in order to keep the rogue on the ground.

Raziel tucked his arms under his body, pushed up, and rolled to dislodge Ky. The two men rolled in opposite directions, each coming to their feet in a fighting stance.

Ky circled his opponent, looking for an opportunity to strike. Movement from the corner of his eyes drew his attention. She’s still here! The realization twisted his gut. “Get out of here, Lyn.”

The warrior’s gaze darted to his mate. His momentary distraction presented his opponent with an opening. Raziel lunged, and came at Ky with his fists. The first punch landed squarely on Ky’s jaw, snapping his head to the side. The second punch landed on Ky’s neck to close his throat.

Ky staggered, his body gulping for air. He spun a thick thigh for a round house kick. It connected with the rogue’s stomach. Raziel wrapped an arm around his middle, and bent at the waist, heaving and gasping for breath. Ky threw an uppercut, connecting with the debauchee’s chin. The hit drove Raziel’s head backwards and his body had no choice but to follow. When the rogue straightened from the force of the punch, Ky kicked out. He struck the vampire hard; driving him down into the ground with such force his body tore up the soil in a fifteen-foot strip.