Lara Adrian M

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crashed against the side of the steel Dumpster, then slid to the pavement in a
heap of gangly arms and legs.
Dante stalked over to him, his own eyes sharp with anger, throwing off the
amber glow of fury. He could feel his fangs extruding, a physical reaction to
the heat of battle. Get up, he told the younger male.
Get up, before I lift you up by your balls, asshole.
The kid was growling low under his breath, muscles bunching as he collected
himself. He stood up and pulled a knife out of the back pocket of his jeans.
As weapons went it was pitiful, just a stubby blade with a fake horn handle.
The utilitarian knife looked like something the kid had pilfered out of his
father s toolbox.
Now, what the fuck do you think you re gonna do with that? Dante asked,
coolly sliding his malebranche blade out of its sheath. The arc of polished
steel with its sleek titanium edge gleamed like molten silver, even in the
dark.
The Darkhaven youth eyed the custom-made dagger, then snarled and took a
careless swipe at Dante.
Don t be stupid, kid. That hard-on you re feeling is just the Crimson
talking. Drop your blade, and let
s take this shit down a notch, get you the help you need to come off your
high.
If the youth even heard Dante talking, it might as well have been coming at
him in a foreign language.
Nothing seemed to register. The vampire s glowing yellow eyes remained fixed
and unresponsive, his breath sawing in and out of him from between his bared
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teeth. Thick pink spittle gathered at the corners of his mouth. He looked
rabid, completely out of his mind.
He snarled. Took another swipe at Dante with the knife. As the edge of the
blade came toward him, Dante moved his own weapon into the path to deflect it.
The titanium-edged steel made contact, slicing across the back of the other
male s hand.
The Darkhaven youth hissed in pain, but the sound stretched long, like a slow,
wet sizzle.
Ah, fuck, Dante muttered, having come to know that sound well enough in his
many years of hunting
Rogues.
The Crimson eater was beyond saving. The drug had induced Bloodlust, strong
enough in this young vampire that he had turned Rogue. The truth of that
irreversible transformation was in the acid burn of his flesh where the
titanium of Dante s blade had cut him.
The metal alloy worked fast; already the skin of the vampire s hand was
corroding, dissolving, falling away. Red trails running up the Rogue s arm
showed the poison racing through his bloodstream. Another few minutes and
there would be nothing left of him but a percolating mass of melting flesh and
bone. Hell of a way to go.
Sorry, kid, Dante told the wild-eyed Rogue before him.
In an act of mercy, he flipped the arced blade around in his hand and sliced
it cleanly across the other vampire s neck.
Jesus Christ no! Chase s shout preceded the hard pound of his footsteps on
the asphalt of the alleyway. No! What the fuck are you doing?
He drew up short next to Dante, just as the Rogue s body dropped lifelessly to
the ground, its severed head rolling to rest nearby. Decomposition was swift
but grisly. Chase recoiled, watching the process in abject horror.
That was a Dante heard a thick catch in the agent s voice, like he was
choking back bile. Son of a bitch! That was a Darkheaven civilian you just
killed! He was a goddamn kid
No, Dante answered calmly as he cleaned his blade and resheathed it on his
hip. What I killed was a Rogue, no longer a civilian or an innocent kid. The
Crimson turned him, Chase. See for yourself.
On the street in front of them, all that was left of the Rogue was a scattered
pile of ash. The fine dust caught in the slight breeze, tracing across the
pavement. Chase bent down to recover the crude knife from the scattering
remains of its owner.
Where s the dealer? Dante asked, hoping like hell to get his hands on him
next.
Chase shook his head. He got away from me. I lost track of him a few blocks
from here. I thought I
had him, but then he ran into a restaurant and I just... I lost him.
Forget it. Dante wasn t worried about finding the guy; he only had to look
for Tess, and sooner or later her boyfriend was bound to make an appearance.
And he had to admit that taking the human out personally was something he
looked forward to.
The Darkhaven agent swore under his breath as he stared down at the knife in
his hands. That kid you killed that Rogue, he corrected, was from my
community. He was a good kid from a good family, goddamn it. How am I going to
tell them what happened to their son?
Dante didn t know what to say. He couldn t apologize for the killing. This was
war, no matter what the
Darkhavens official position might be on the situation. Once a Breed vampire
turned Rogue whether he turned from Crimson or the weakness present in all of
the Breed there was no coming back, no hope of rehabilitation. No second
chances. If Harvard was going to run with the Order for any length of time,
he d better get a grip on that fact ASAP.
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Come on, Dante said, clapping the grim-faced agent on the shoulder. We re
finished here. You won t be able to save them all.
Ben Sullivan didn t ease up on the gas until Boston s city lights were a
distant glow in the rearview mirror.
He turned off Route 1 just inside Revere, flooring the vehicle onto one of the
industrial drives down near the river. His hands were shaking on the wheel,
palms slick with sweat. His heart was beating like a jackhammer behind his rib
cage. He couldn t catch his breath.
Holy shit.
What the fuck just happened back there at that club?
Some kind of overdose it had to be. The guy who d taken the hit of Crimson and
lapsed into convulsions was a regular customer. Ben had sold to him at least
half a dozen times in the past couple of weeks alone. He d been manufacturing
and dealing the mild stimulant on the club and rave circuit for months
now since the summer and to his knowledge, nothing like this had ever happened
before.
A goddamn overdose.
Ben pulled the van into a gravel yard outside an old warehouse, cut the
lights, and sat there with the engine running.
He d been tailed by someone on foot when he fled the club one of the two big
dudes who d been somewhere inside the place and evidently had seen him
dealing. They might have been undercover cops, maybe even DEA, but both the
dark-haired one in sunglasses and his equally intimidating companion who came
at Ben like a freight train looked to be the shoot-first, ask-questions-later
types.
Ben wasn t about to wait around and find out. He d run out of the
club and made a frantic, helter-skelter dash in and out of the surrounding
streets and alleyways, finally ditching his pursuer long enough to circle
back, reach his van, and get the hell out of Dodge.
The situation at the club was still playing through his head in a haze of
confusion. Everything had happened so fast. The kid taking the jumbo hit of
Crimson. The first sign of trouble, when his body began to spasm as the drug
entered his system. The freakish roar that came out of his mouth an instant
later.
The answering screams of the people around him.
The sheer chaos that ensued.
Most of those intense several minutes were still spinning through Ben s mind
in strobe-light flashes of memory, some images clear, others lost to the dark [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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