Page 40 of Bullets and Blood
The relief he’d felt evaporated.If his family was everything Nix said they were, they wouldn’t ask for permission the way he had.Scott had been annoyed he’d taken the time to ask.He’d thought that was about his aunt’s need for capture, but maybe it had been more.Maybe they thought they didn’t need permission, though if caught entering without permission, that would start another round of hostilities with another family.
The Reids would be who the Orlans would sharpen their fangs with.
His heart spun as he saw himself the way Nix had seen him when they’d made the truce.A vampire with no honor.An oath breaker.
Nix would never run alone because that would mean breaking the truce.But he’d prove he was serious.He’d ditch the fancy car tomorrow, take out as much cash as he could, and join Nix in vanishing.All they needed was time to figure something better out.
“I’m packing up and heading south later today, following the trail.”The lie rolled off his tongue.There’d be no trail.They’d be gone.
ChapterTwenty-Four
Nix thoughtit was the nightmare.The whistle of a silenced bullet as it hit its target.But he was awake for the second shot, and his mattress was well and truly dead.
The black-clad man stood over the bed with his back to Nix, and in that split-second, Nix knew the man had just realized the bed was empty.He had maybe half a second before the man turned and finished the job.Which was to kill him, not the furniture.
His grip on the knife loosened.This wasn’t a dream he couldn’t change the ending of.He lifted his hand as the man turned, and the blade left his fingers and struck the man’s shoulder.The gun clattered to the floor as he staggered back.
Blood perfumed the air.Vampire.Orlan.
Which one of the dishonorable bastards was it?
Nix rose out of the chair, his blood like ice.Fingers in a loose fist, he noted how far away his weapons were and the way the man held himself.The man pulled the knife free with a grunt and grinned, his fangs catching in the moonlight.
The granny flat he’d rented wasn’t big—one lunge and they’d be locked into a fight until death.But only one of them was walking out; the other would be left for the dawn—or in his case, dragged back to Melbourne for torture.
He could drop his guard, and it would be over…but his will to live was too strong, and he’d be twice damned if he was taken down before the truce was over.He would not be cheated out of time—not that he could tell this man about the truce because that would be damning Lance.His lips twisted into a bitter smile.
“Come on, oath-breaker.Want another Hadley notch on your belt?”Nix beckoned the man closer with a curl of his fingers as if he were pleasuring a lover.
The man was dressed in black from head to toe, no doubt Kevlar jeans and some kind of body armor beneath his shirt.He’d dressed as though expecting a fully armed hitman, not an insomniac in his boxers.
The man slashed with the knife, and Nix dodged to the side, sweeping the man’s arm out of the way and kicking him across the ribs with his shin.An elbow to Nix’s thigh followed, then another slash with the blade, one that opened a line of red along his upper arm.But he didn’t feel the sting, only smelled his fresh blood.
He shoved Nix into the TV.The screen cracked.Nix ducked the fist and grabbed the knife from behind the TV, evening up the fight.
The man was shorter, but heavier.His muscles slowing him down, while Nix had flexibility and speed and was fighting to live not following an order.They danced trading blows, keeping an eye on where the gun was.The longer this went on the quicker he’d weaken.He hadn’t fed on human blood in months—the little tastes of Lance didn’t count.
Nix wanted this over before the man got a feel for how he fought and used it against him.He was going to have to make a sacrifice.He gritted his teeth, knowing what was coming.He slipped in close, kneed the man in the balls, and sliced his belly, the knife skittering off the body armor.A knife slid between Nix’s ribs.Heat filled his lung, but it was nothing that wouldn’t heal if he survived.He followed up with an elbow to the man’s throat and a backfist to the nose, which broke with a satisfying crunch and spurt of hot blood that made his fangs ache for a taste.The man dropped to his knees.
Nix left the knife embedded in his flesh, keeping the puncture closed as he took the man to the floor, pinning his arms beneath his knees and gripping his ears.
It was then the fury solidified into cold anger as he realized who his attacker was.Scott Orlan.Lance’s contact.The bastard who’d broken the peace talks and then blamed him.
Scott struggled, bucking his hips like he was having a good time, but Nix held on.He used Scott’s ears to slam his head against the floor hard enough that Scott’s teeth rattled.
“Why are you here?”
“To put you down.”Scott spat; the glob hit Nix’s cheek.Nix slammed Scott’s head into the floor again, his ears tearing away from his scalp with the force.
“Why did you blame me for ruining the peace talks?I wasn’t even there.”
“Because we knew you’d try to ensorcell the runt, and he needed to hate you.”
Nix released one ear and smashed his fist into Scott’s cheekbone.Bone snapped, and he screamed.Nix put his hand over Scott’s mouth and got bitten for his efforts.He headbutted him, and Scott pulled his fangs out of his palm.
“Don’t call him a runt.”His breathing was tight, and his lung was filling with blood.“I want out.I don’t want to play this game.”
“Too bad.”Scott got his arm free and reached for the gun.
