Blood and Hexes (After Darkness Falls #4) - May Sage Page 0,10

up in a few hours with a killer headache. “You don’t have to die either. Leave me alone, let me grab a drink, and we can leave all this behind us.”

They weren’t any smarter than the bartender. Both came for her, and another two left the drugged vampire to join them, freeing his flanks. Now that he only had three against him rather than seven, he moved from a defensive posture to a fighting stance, throwing the first punch.

Diana didn’t pay him much mind. She focused on the stupid boys crowding her. She cracked skulls, bit out arteries. Some vampires liked weapons, but as far as Diana was concerned, her teeth and limbs would suffice.

Soon enough, she was the only one left standing.

Diana hesitated before walking to the dark, tattooed man on the floor. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, and didn’t seem able to move.

“Who are you?” she asked.

He opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to answer, but the only thing to come out of his mouth was a long grunt.

She sighed, towering over the pretty, tanned pile of muscles that strongly stank of bloodbane.

This was definitely not how she’d pictured her first night back. She’d planned on a quick pit stop here for a glass of spiced blood before hitting the road again. Now what? If she left the man here, when the boys she hadn’t killed woke up, they’d dispose of him. They’d been about to when she’d walked in. She could always take him a few miles away and drop him in a ditch somewhere.

She tilted her head, kneeling at his side. Then, on impulse, she lifted him up, carried him out, and loaded him on her bike. Bloodbane was nasty; the man would be out of it for the next day at least. She could take him north with her. Someone on Night Hill was bound to know who he was, right? There couldn’t be that many vampires up in Scotland. At least he’d be safe for a night.

She returned to the pub, wincing as she took in the broken tables, shards of glass, and pools of blood on the floor. Hopefully they had insurance.

Diana hopped on the bar, and elegantly swung her legs over. She jumped down, and made a beeline to the fridge. She grinned when she spotted her favorite drink. Bingo.

Vampires went on and on about how bottled blood didn't compare to the real stuff, but as far as she was concerned, just because it wasn't the best didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy it. Sure, she preferred champagne to beer, but if she drank Moët and Chandon every day, she wouldn't appreciate it. Olla—cheap O-positive mixed with tequila—was her everyday snack. Besides, it didn’t come with as many drawbacks as true human blood. Suffering from bloodlust on a constant basis wasn’t her idea of fun.

She grabbed four bottles and left a twenty on the counter, before returning to the Ducati—and the stranger perched on it.

Change in the Air

Diana had to admit, she was impressed with her new cruiser. The weight of the man strapped over the back seat didn't affect the stability or speed of the machine purring between her thighs. Maybe this was it: the bike she'd keep when she finally settled somewhere. If she finally settled somewhere. After almost a thousand years of roaming, it wasn't certain that she'd ever pause long enough to own anything bigger than a laptop.

The night air was cool enough for Diana to notice it, though the temperature didn't bother her one way or the other. She could be affected by extreme heat or Canadian winters, but British autumns weren't harmful to her kind.

She'd been in Scotland for some time before she needed to stop for gas—and another drink. She checked on the man on the back of her bike. Still down for the count. He was going to be stiff as hell when he woke up.

Diana tilted her head, watching him as she sipped her lukewarm Olla. Maybe she should ditch him here. He was far enough from The Lion's Claw to be out of his little friends' reach. She stuck out her tongue, licking her dry lips. The fleeting idea held no appeal. She was too nosy to leave things like this. Diana wanted to know who he was, why he'd been cornered. Despite the fact that his attackers had clearly been assholes, he could still be in the wrong. There was a possibility that she'd helped out a