Stakes & Stilettos - Michelle Rowen [68]
“He’s attempting to resist,” Red said. “Some humans are resistant to vampire control. The weaker the mind the easier it is.”
“So this one doesn’t have a weak mind?” I said, and turned to look at Red. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Watch out.”
The hunter had taken the opportunity to grab the stake off the ground and arc it in my direction, directly toward my almost completely healed chest wound.
I caught his arm but still felt the tip graze my skin.
“I’m going to kill you,” he growled.
I glanced at Red.
He cocked his head to the side. “I think I’ll simply observe from a safe distance.”
“Great.”
Although I had extra strength now, which was definitely helpful to hold him off a bit, the guy was a trained hunter. He twisted away from me and tried to come at me from a different direction.
“You’re dead, Slayer of Slayers!” he bellowed.
He lunged at me. I curled my hand into a fist and punched him in the stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He doubled over and tried to breathe. I snatched the stake out of his hand and with a kick to the face—not exactly kung fu but sufficient to knock him off balance—he landed hard on his back on the snowy ground.
I clutched the stake and glared down at him. Every nerve ending in my body felt as if it was sparking and crackling with energy.
“Please don’t kill me!” the hunter begged.
I knelt and pressed the stake against the creep’s chest hard enough to make him flinch. “Then I suggest you make like Michael Jackson and beat it. And don’t even think about coming near me again. Got it?”
He nodded. I stood up again, and he scrambled to his feet and ran out of the park.
The Red Devil had his arms crossed. “Hmm.”
I turned to glare at him. “Hmm, what?”
“I’m surprised that, given your reputation, you didn’t end his life.”
“Maybe I’m feeling generous tonight.”
“Or maybe it’s true that your reputation is only rumors and speculation.”
“Or that.” I blinked. “How are my eyes?”
He studied me for a moment. “Back to normal.”
“Thanks for the help, by the way,” I said dryly. “I thought you were supposed to be some vampire-hero guy.”
“Didn’t look like you needed any help.” He surveyed the park. “The woman who was here before, she cursed you to be a nightwalker, is that true?”
I nodded and felt my throat tighten. “I have two days to convince her to end the curse or apparently I’m stuck like this.”
“And would that be so bad?”
I looked at him, at the thin line of his face and eyes visible through the scarf. His gaze seemed to burn right into me. I wondered, not for the first time, what he looked like under that get-up. “Yeah, it’s bad. I kind of like going out in the day. It’s a habit of mine.”
“There are ways around such inconveniences. But you’ve gained so much by this transition. Your strength is equal to that of a centuries-old vampire. Your mind control, if practiced, could be extremely useful.”
“Can nightwalkers turn into bats?” I asked.
“I don’t believe so.”
“In that case, I just want to be normal.”
He laughed at that and I looked at him sharply.
“Normal?” he said. “Why would you want to be normal? You have the world at your fingertips. You’ve been given a true gift, Sarah, and you wish to give it away so easily?”
“A gift? Curses aren’t gifts.”
“It depends how you look at it.”
“No, I’m looking at it from the only vantage point I have. I was just getting used to being a regular run-of-the-mill vampire, and I’d convinced myself I wasn’t a monster, and now I am one. I don’t want to be this way.”
And that was it in a nutshell. Even if I had to get rid of the thrall, I didn’t want to be this way. It felt wrong on every level.
“This has to do with Thierry de Bennicoeur and his view of nightwalkers?” he asked.
I clenched my jaw so hard that it hurt. “You know, Thierry thinks you’re an impostor up to no good. I shouldn’t even be talking to you because he’ll be pissed.”
“I saved your life.”
That deflated me a little bit but not much. “You did. And thank you for that. But I’m not accustomed to trusting easily lately, and when