Page 49 of Blood of a Huntsman

Mikar and Ruby exchanged a glance that seemed knowing; they understood thirst so strong they wanted to drink from fellow vampires.

Bash wondered how many among their kind experienced it. Maybe it was a lot more common than what he’d believed.

"It'll fade in time. The girl has courage. If she's in trouble, you come to me," Ruby ordered.

Bash nodded, and she walked away, heading toward the Wolvswoods.

"Don't take it personally. She doesn't like people much."

Bash laughed. "Who am I to talk?"

He'd avoided most of his friends for months.

Mikar glanced at him. "You seem to be doing better."

"Yes." Thanks to Catherine. "I'm getting used to the smell. Or, rather, distracting myself by ignoring it. My brain is so weird. Unfamiliar."

"It's still your mind. It's just been improved. Think of it as though you just added hardware to an existing computer. Maybe you upgrade the disk or the memory, but it still has the same files, the same operating system."

"Just faster," Bash added. "And with different limits."

Mikar nodded. "Exactly. But you can run new programs now."

He thought back to what Chloe had done earlier. Bash had seen Levi appear and disappear in a cloud of mist and thought nothing of it because he was Levi. Old, powerful, larger than life. But seeing Chloe, who'd been turned alongside him, vanish and inhabit birds like that? It only emphasized the extent of his ignorance about his new body and mind.

"I should learn," he said carefully. "I want to learn how to operate the new system. Not just to control my thirst. I want to know how to sync with animals, read minds. Use magic if I can. This…thing I've become. It's me. And it doesn't have to be evil. It doesn't even have to be useless."

Mikar chuckled. "Syncing, telepathy, magic? That's not quite three-month-old level. And some never acquire one skill, let alone three."

Bash shrugged. "Might as well aim high. However long it takes."

"Right. Well, I can't help with any of the magic stuff. It's never been my inclination," the slayer told him. "But I can teach you one thing."

"What?"

Mikar grinned. "Your limits. I'm going to give you thirty seconds. No more, no less. Then you'll run from the train tracks back to the Wolvswoods, over and over again, until the end of our shift at six. I will follow that exact path for the next five hours. And if I catch you, I will drink from you until you're at the very brink of death. You may survive, but you will suffer. For days, you will suffer. Your thirst will get a thousand times worse."

Bash blinked, confused. How the fuck was that supposed to be helpful?

"That sounds like a terrible idea. Can we, like, not do that?"

"Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight."

Shit. They were doing it.

Bash dashed south as fast as his immortal limbs could carry him, and then faster. Twenty-seven seconds later, he felt the air shift. Something was following. Something big. Strong.

You may survive.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He ran faster. His limbs hadn't hurt that way since before he turned. His lungs burned and his breathing was ragged—too fast, too hectic.

But he ran all the same, even when his body begged for a break, even when he felt sick.

That was when he realized one thing. He wanted to live. Two weeks ago, he hadn’t been so sure, but now, he was desperate to stay alive.

The sun rose in the distance. Six was drawing near, but his body was betraying him. The predator behind him was closing in.

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