Darkness Devours(68)

 

"I really don't want to be hanging around that club night after night waiting for a spirit that may or may not appear."

 

"No." He hesitated. "I am attempting to get more information. It might also be helpful if we had greater details about the time and date of the deaths. There might be a pattern we could use."

 

If there was a pattern, surely Hunter and the Directorate would have seen it. "I'll ask Hunter to send the information to me."

 

He nodded. "Once we get that, we can decide the best way to proceed."

 

The best way to proceed—or rather, the sanest way to proceed—would be to run a mile in the other direction. I mean, a flesh-eating, shape-changing spirit with poisonous talons wasn't exactly something anyone with an iota of sense would want to tangle with. But it wasn't like I had any real choice, because right now I was stuck with two millstones hanging around my neck—the agreement to help Hunter and a vampire council still debating whether or not it would be better to kill me. A wrong step might be fatal in more ways than one.

 

"I'll see you at the Brindle." I didn't bother waiting for an answer. I just shoved my helmet on, fired up the bike, and raced into the street.

 

Unfortunately, it was peak hour and all the main roads were playing parking lots again. Frustrated, I swung into a side street and took the more roundabout but better-flowing route to the Brindle.

 

Only trouble was, I didn't get there.

Chapter 5

 

One moment I was cruising down the street behind a belching truck; the next I was hit side-on. The force of the impact ripped me from my bike and sent me flying toward a light pole. It happened so fast I didn't even have time to try to protect myself—I just hit the pole and wrapped around it like an old bit of rubbish.

 

Then I slumped to the ground, battling to breathe and struggling to ignore the pain stabbing into my brain as well as the gathering tide of blackness that threatened to wash away consciousness.

 

I couldn't let go. I just couldn't.

 

It was a thought that made no sense, but one that had me struggling to rise nevertheless. I made it to my knees—the pain was too great to go any farther. Although getting even that far meant I hadn't broken anything major. Yay for the strength of werewolf bones, I thought fuzzily.

 

Something warm and sticky gushed down the side of my cheek. I swiped at it and hit the visor instead. It was half hanging off, and swinging back and forth with my movements. I swore and wrenched it off completely. It clattered to the ground, though oddly made no sound. In fact, the whole world seemed to be silent. Or maybe I just couldn't hear through the roar that seemed to be filling my head.

 

I blinked and looked around. Saw my bike lying on her side, hydrogen leaking from her tanks. It looked surreal, like blood, and I hoped like hell her wound wasn't fatal.