Don't Touch My Men - Helen Scott Page 0,25
mad, and felt an overwhelming need to cry…or to kill someone. So, I was going to do the natural thing and release this tension with violence.
Checking my cell phone and seeing about fifty hunters who could use my help, I picked the one who seemed like he needed me the most, changed my clothes, and hopped on my bike. My horn was no longer visible, and I knew the bleeding had stopped, but it still ached when I put my helmet on.
A minute later, I was flying through the city. Apparently, a building at the edge of town had been overrun by vampires. A young hunter had gone to investigate, and now he was trapped somewhere in the building. It turned my stomach to read. Usually, we hunters had a chat going where we asked for help when we got into a tricky situation. There always seemed to be someone to help, so I never had to worry about missing an important text. Now though, there were more hunters who needed help than those that were capable of stepping up.
The world really had gone to shit.
Not that I could keep blaming Mae for it, even if I wanted to.
It took some time to get to the building, but I found the turnoff to the manor, which was whispered to be haunted, with ease. I slowed down and turned onto the road, hid my motorcycle in the bushes, and then approached the house.
Usually, vampires fell into three categories. The first was the wealthy older vampires who tried to appear like aristocrats and usually had humans to feed them regularly. Then there were the ones who had been turned by accident, or abandoned by their coven, and were dangerous for an unsuspecting human to run into. Lastly, the third group, who slinked in the shadows like stray animals, waiting to leap out and grab a bite, but weren’t exactly looking for a fight.
In my experience, it was rare for a group to simply get together and cause trouble. The aristocrats were too proper for that, and the others would never be able to work together. So finding a group at a random house was kind of bizarre and set me on edge.
Before I even approached the long dirt driveway surrounded by trees, I unsheathed my sword and walked with care. Gravel crunched beneath my feet, and a cool breeze swept over me. My forehead gave another panged ache, and the sound of night insects filled the air like a song.
It was strange. This felt like a mistake, but the idea of going home hurt something deep in my soul. I shuddered at just the thought, then tightened my hold on my blade.
Up ahead, I saw that candles had been lit in all the windows of the old manor. The entire building was blackened from the fire that had killed the occupants years before, but the structure appeared surprisingly solid. As I got closer, I heard the kind of laughter that made my skin crawl, like a group of assholes heckling someone.
“This is going to be fun,” I mumbled to myself.
I crept up to a window and cautiously peered inside.
My gut turned. In the center of the room was the young hunter, strung up and tied beneath his arms. They’d sliced him all over, ripping off his shirt and pants, and leaving him in nothing but boxers. They licked and bit at the wounds on his body, and they must have been doing it for a while because he jerked, but his head remained hanging, and he didn’t yell or even try to fight back.
My teeth clamped together.
I could see at least six vampires, which was a lot to take, even in my best shape. Right now, tired from using my powers and PTSD ringing in my ears like an old enemy, I knew this was a bad time to take on numbers like these. But if I didn’t, the kid was going to die.
A plan came to me, and then I ground my teeth together and pushed it away. I took my bike, not our car, so I didn’t have a trunk full of weapons. All I had was the element of surprise.
I guess that was better than nothing.
And what was more, vampires like these weren’t often the smartest group. I could try to trick them and save myself a severe ass kicking.
So, I went to the door, pushed it open softly, and winced at the slight groan the hinges made, but