Page 157 of The Vampire's Thirst
But Luka calmed her when he took her hand before he spoke to Mori. “Forgiveness is needed on both sides. I wasn’t a good alpha. I chose to ignore what was going on in my own pack. If I return, all must give vows. I vow to be better. You must vow to stay away from drugs, to be loyal to Scath.”
Mori glanced at his followers. “We have already pledged to a better life, but we will do it again in blood to our alpha.”
Luka angled his much larger body toward Sati. “Mate, this is up to you, too.”
Her eyes softened as she caressed his arm. “Luka, welcome our pack into our home. Tonight, we celebrate beginnings. Our renewed pack. The mating of our beloved brother Thorn to Fin.”
When Mori’s mate broke down in tears, Sati rushed to her side, taking her into her arms.
Fin didn’t understand the emotion behind what was happening, only the smile on Thorn’s lips as the stiffness in his shoulders melted away. He had worried about his younger brother. Now, he could hope.
****
Thechase was on again. What a cock-up. Miller had run to Las Vegas to check on one of his charges before he turned her and all his responsibilities over to his second. His replacement was ready to assume the load, probably thinking with a clear head. Too bad he couldn’t say the same about himself.
Since he hadn’t picked up the tail until he shoved off from his assignment’s neighborhood, he hadn’t led the supes to her, but it was just a matter of time.
Miller checked his cellphone, which was almost out of oomph. When Braelyn didn’t answer, he left a message. “Hey, luv. Your favorite Brit here being chased by some non-human blokes. The same blood-seeking missile vampire is on my arse again. Anyway, I’m ready for a pickup. Tired of this shite. Call with the where and when. Gotta lose these guys. Out.”
He was fast-footing it down the Strip, dodging tourists who wore ugly shorts and sipped on tall drinks while they hurried off to lose money.
Miller had parked his rental car in the garage at the TI. On the way to his room in the Palazzo, he picked up his shadows. Now, he glanced over his shoulder as he crossed against the light, spying the two big guys hustling after him, one of them his nemesis vamp. Shoving between a man and woman, knocking another couple aside, he sprinted. Not toward his hotel but toward the Venetian. Across the bridge. Through the archways. Into the Grand Canal Shoppes.
Damn. They were still with him.
Miller dropped all pretense of being a nice guy while he bowled his way through the crowd. This was life-death stuff now. He raced into what passed for St. Mark’s Square as he headed toward the parking garage where he had a spare auto. Lessons learned in British intel stuck with him. Don’t park where you bed down and always have a second way out.
Not bothering to check his pursuers, Miller jumped into the Corvette, showy but fast, definitely not a banger. He needed speed. The garage was empty, allowing him to zoom out to Sands Avenue. Once he crossed the Strip, he took a right onto Paradise, grabbing 215 before he opened up on 15 Southbound.
Whizzing past cars, Miller full-throttled it, determined to lose the supes. Still barreling at top velocity, he neared Halloran Springs, weaving in and out of slower cars that obeyed the speed limit.
Then, in the distance, strung across the interstate were three SUV’s. Rather than stop, Miller swung left to cross the median. The Corvette nose-dived into the ditch. Tires spun. Forward. Backward. He was going nowhere.
The sports car was built for speed, not off-roading. Hindsight being what it was, the TI transport would have been better.
Miller unbuckled his seatbelt. Dodging traffic in the middle of the busy highway, he flagged tourists heading the other way into Vegas, but they were in too much of a hurry. Tits, ass, all-you-could-eat buffets, and bottomless glasses of booze were waiting down the road. No one stopped.
Six big guys were coming at him fast from the direction of the roadblock. His favorite vampire was knees up, legs churning toward him from the other direction.
Convinced only plonkers were captured, Miller spurted off into the desert. Abandoned gas station. Diner. Lots of sand.
All in all, a terrific spot to be on foot and running for my life. Not even a big cactus to hide behind.
His cellphone buzzed. Braelyn. Great timing. “Not now, luv. I’m on the lam. They’re gonna get me. You and your muscle-bound mate better put together a search-and-rescue.”
Disconnecting, he raced across the desert, removing the cellphone battery and sim card. He paused long enough to crush his last connection to hope under foot, making it juiceless but untraceable.
****
Chiaralay on her stomach atop their bed, her head resting on folded arms, while Dax growled, bandaging the open wounds on her back. “It’s not your fault. Shit happens to everyone during the Bludhunt. Normally, you wouldn’t drag me by my ankles across a rocky ground for a sex session. Besides, look at my new tat after our mating ceremony.”
Chiara lifted an arm to show Dax the underside of her wrist where the Bludclan Mortus’s skull with fangs was emblazoned, a match to her vampire’s marking. “It’s a little grim. Still, it proves I’m yours. Live with it.”
“I hurt you.”
“Braelyn and Rein told us what to expect. All vampires become raging maniacs during the ceremony. You know, I put a doozy of a lump on your noggin when I knocked you out. You’ve also got lots of scratches. You don’t see me snarling about the damage I inflicted.”
“Say what you will. I should have controlled myself.”
