Page 2 of Tin God

She was a merciful and efficient killer.

The vampire looked at the window, searching for a way inside the house, but the darkened window was sealed against frost and wind.

There was no helping it. The death wouldn’t be as silent as she’d hoped.

She reached out with her senses and located the two vampires in the largest room of the house. She was a creature of air, and the void whispered to her.

Two creatures of her kind, both larger than she was. One who called to the wind and the other…

Interesting.

The other had been born to fire.

She knew of few vampires in that area who claimed fire as their element, and all of them were dangerous. She wondered if this vampire was one she knew.

But no. This was a newer immortal. Their blood was fresh and rich with human life. This was the predator who fed on the bodies in the ground, a hungry, grasping immortal still in the first years of life.

Young, erratic, and capable of bursting into flames.

The hunter would have to eliminate the young vampire first, which annoyed her. The young vampire was not her quarry, but they could prove too dangerous to allow them to their fate.

Unless…

She listened to the affectionate words flowing between Temur’s Blood and the new vampire. They were tender and teasing. These vampires were lovers. Perhaps there was some loyalty between them. In that case, the young fire vampire could be an advantage.

Without another thought, she took her blade from her thigh and smashed the hilt through the heavy glass window.

All sound stopped, and there was a rush of feet and a whisper of metal. She flew into the rafters and curled into a corner of the room, waiting for her quarry. She pulled her amnis in, throwing a shield over the immortal magic that gave her life.

And waited.

Her quarry came first, but she did not move.

She hadn’t seen him before, but she had smelled his blood. Smelled the blood that had betrayed her. He bore the same eyes she did, eyes from the east that swiftly searched the shadows, looking for whatever had broken into their hidden sanctuary.

He was hoping for the body of a bird or the clawed fury of a wolverine.

Her quarry was foolish. He didn’t look up.

“Purev?” The new vampire walked into the dark storeroom. “What is?—?”

“Zasha, no!”

Too late.

The hunter fell on the woman, her arms and legs wrapping around the young fire vampire as the bronze blade came to her neck, the tip pressing against the spine.

The young one panicked. “Purev!”

“Calm.” Her quarry held up his hands. “I know you. You have no quarrel with her. Your fight is with me, Saraal.”

“Sida.” She spoke for the first time in a year, and her voice was rasping. “I do not know that name.”

Sida, the tribe of ancient wind vampires who had ravaged the eastern plains where her human life had ended. Sida, the sons of her immortal sire who had treated her worse than the human women they captured.

A vampire slave would not break as human captives did.

“Please, Purev,” the fire vampire whispered. “Make her stop.”

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