Guild Hunter 01 - Angels' Blood

glance around. “We’re near Archangel Tower. The streets belong to us.”
    “But”—she smiled—“I. Fucking. Don’t!” Slashing out with her knife, she carved a line across his throat.
    Blood sprayed in an arterial rush but she’d already dodged out of the way. Dmitri grabbed at his neck and fell to his knees, his shades falling away to display eyes blazing fire. She read her death in those eyes.
    “Don’t be a baby,” she murmured, wiping the knife on the grass and sliding it back into the sheath. “We both know a vamp your age will recover within the next ten minutes.” A violent wave of vampire scent crashed into her senses. “And here come your flunkies to help you out. Nice talking to you, Dmitri darling.”
    “Bitch.” It was a wet gurgle.
    “Thanks.”
    He actually smiled, hard, lethal, scary as hell. “I like bitches.” The words were already clearer, his healing progressing at a faster pace than she would’ve believed.
    But it was the dark hunger in his tone that got to her. Damn kinky vampire had actually liked the knife. Shit. Turning her back to him, she ran. The second he healed, he’d come after her. And right now, she was worried less about being killed than about being seduced out of her fucking mind.
    Dmitri might make her ache with need, but she didn’t want him when he wasn’t around to dose her with that scent of his. It was a compulsion, that scent, far stronger than any other she’d ever heard of. But that was hardly surprising given who he called sire.
    Raphael had taken her between one breath and the next. She’d thought she’d learned to detect him, to pick up the odd sense of disconnection between mind and self that had accompanied his earlier attempts. But this time, there had been nothing. One second she was worrying about vampire serial killers, the next she was crawling all over him, trying to suck his tongue down her throat. If she hadn’t snapped out of it, she was pretty sure she’d have been sucking other things, too.
    Her face flushed.
    Not in anger, though that was there. In desire. In heat. She might not want Dmitri when he was out of range, but she wanted the archangel. That made her a candidate for the asylum, but under no circumstances did it excuse what he’d done.
    An instant later, she passed out of the restricted Tower zone to hit busy city streets, but instead of slowing down, she pushed herself even harder. Reaching into her pocket as she ran, she pulled out a cell phone and pressed in an emergency code. “I need a retrieval,” she gasped as soon as someone answered. “Sending location.” She pressed a button, activating the special GPS widget—it would transmit her location to the Guild computers until she switched it off. Because she couldn’t stay in one place. The second she did, the game was over.
    She kept an eye out for a taxi, but, of course, there were none in sight.
    Two minutes later, tendrils of hunger snaked around her, searching, caressing. A sumptuous warmth bloomed in the pit of her stomach. Shoving a fist against that body part, she took in another gasp of air and made a hard left. High-class department stores zipped by, followed by the Zombie Den—the hangout of choice for the vamps and their whores.
    Images of the erotic scenes she’d witnessed last night filled her head.
    Opulent.
    Sensual.
    Seductive.
    Not whores, addicts. And the worst thing was, she couldn’t blame them. If Raphael ever got her in bed—not a chance since she was going to cut off his balls the first opportunity she got—she’d probably crave him to the end of her days. Infuriated, she pumped up her arms and swerved around a kid on a skateboard.
    “Where’s the vamp?” the kid called out, jumping off his board in excitement. “Dude . . .”
    Oh, fuck! She glanced over her shoulder and saw Dmitri gaining on her. The blood on his shirt was a scarlet flower but his neck was fine, his pretty face wiped clean. Snapping back her head, she darted into traffic, crossing the road to the blaring of horns, curses, and several excited screams. A tourist started snapping photos. Great. He’d probably get a shot of her being vampire-bit right before Dmitri turned her into a begging, crawling thing concerned with sex alone.
    Her gun was suddenly in her hand. Knives were her weapon of choice, but if she was going to stop the son of a bitch before he got to her, she’d have to shoot him in the heart. There was a very slight chance she might actually