it.”
Dominic felt his fangs throb in their sheaths, ready to emerge. His body tensed, ready to attack as he searched the rooftop for the other woman. He’d kill the bitch—whoever she was, taunting this woman to jump, he’d kill her.
But there was no other woman.
Just the witch.
Just his witch.
Looking at her made him ache.
It had been months since he’d held her . . . even in his dreams. You’d think a man’s libido would kick in and he could at least have her in his dreams, but not lately.
Not since the dream where she’d stood crying in a field of stone.
Since then, his dreams had taken a drastic turn, and not a good one. Either he was reliving that dream where she held him as he died, or he was in one where he was nothing more than an observer, watching as she drifted through life like a heartbroken ghost. Dreams where he couldn’t touch her, couldn’t hold her, couldn’t talk to her.
Because she wouldn’t let him.
She had isolated herself, even in her dreams.
No . . . not her dreams. They were his dreams.
Whatever . . . none of it made sense, and he couldn’t try to make any of it now, either, not when she was there.
He wanted to go to her. Hold her.
He wanted to tell her to come away from the ledge, that she wasn’t alone up there on the roof. That she wasn’t alone, period. He was there . . . he was with her.
And then she wasn’t alone, but Dominic wasn’t the one standing just behind her.
It was another vampire.
Dominic couldn’t reach out to the witch. Couldn’t touch her, couldn’t make her hear him if she spoke. Couldn’t save her if she tried to jump.
But the vampire could.
Don’t you let her jump, you big bastard , he thought darkly.
And still, in some part of his mind, he wondered why he was so worried about a dream-woman jumping off the Willis Tower. It wasn’t like she was real. It wasn’t like it would hurt her. The next time he slept, she’d be there . . . waiting for him.
Not if she jumps , he thought.
If she jumps, I’ve lost her.
He knew it. If she jumped, she was lost to him. Somehow.
N ESSA swayed as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
Had been a bad idea, flying here. It was too late to walk away now, though. Besides, if she knew Malachi well enough, he’d show up. He’d be here to back her up. As she checked her reserves, she flexed a hand, an absent gesture. She frowned as she realized just how very low her energy was. She didn’t even know if she had fumes to operate on.
But she couldn’t walk away. She felt the pulse and ebb of the vampires inside and despite her lack of interest in life itself, she still had a keen interest in fighting the good fight.
“A good Hunter never leaves the job undone and all that rot,” she mumbled to herself.
They were resting now—or rather, two of them were. The older one had enough years behind him that he didn’t immediately collapse when the sun breached the horizon. He had been the one to bite her.
For a few moments, she’d almost let him win. Blood loss would kill her. That was a certain fact—all animals needed their lifeblood, and witch or no, she was just another animal.
But then she’d heard the wail of sirens. Somebody had called the police, some kind soul probably thinking they were doing something good. Or maybe it had just been somebody annoyed by the noise.
It didn’t matter, though. The police had been coming and they weren’t equipped to deal with vampires. If she died, then the police would stumble blindly into something they couldn’t handle.
So, once more, with death just a wish away, she’d fought back. Hating every last second of it.
She reached for the doorknob but a wave of weakness washed over her. In the back of her mind, Morgan laughed. Even in death, the bitch continued to taunt Nessa. Go on inside, old woman. He could use a tasty treat.
“Hmmm, perhaps. The silver I pumped inside him will be munching away at his insides by now, though.”
It had been
Dominic felt his fangs throb in their sheaths, ready to emerge. His body tensed, ready to attack as he searched the rooftop for the other woman. He’d kill the bitch—whoever she was, taunting this woman to jump, he’d kill her.
But there was no other woman.
Just the witch.
Just his witch.
Looking at her made him ache.
It had been months since he’d held her . . . even in his dreams. You’d think a man’s libido would kick in and he could at least have her in his dreams, but not lately.
Not since the dream where she’d stood crying in a field of stone.
Since then, his dreams had taken a drastic turn, and not a good one. Either he was reliving that dream where she held him as he died, or he was in one where he was nothing more than an observer, watching as she drifted through life like a heartbroken ghost. Dreams where he couldn’t touch her, couldn’t hold her, couldn’t talk to her.
Because she wouldn’t let him.
She had isolated herself, even in her dreams.
No . . . not her dreams. They were his dreams.
Whatever . . . none of it made sense, and he couldn’t try to make any of it now, either, not when she was there.
He wanted to go to her. Hold her.
He wanted to tell her to come away from the ledge, that she wasn’t alone up there on the roof. That she wasn’t alone, period. He was there . . . he was with her.
And then she wasn’t alone, but Dominic wasn’t the one standing just behind her.
It was another vampire.
Dominic couldn’t reach out to the witch. Couldn’t touch her, couldn’t make her hear him if she spoke. Couldn’t save her if she tried to jump.
But the vampire could.
Don’t you let her jump, you big bastard , he thought darkly.
And still, in some part of his mind, he wondered why he was so worried about a dream-woman jumping off the Willis Tower. It wasn’t like she was real. It wasn’t like it would hurt her. The next time he slept, she’d be there . . . waiting for him.
Not if she jumps , he thought.
If she jumps, I’ve lost her.
He knew it. If she jumped, she was lost to him. Somehow.
N ESSA swayed as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
Had been a bad idea, flying here. It was too late to walk away now, though. Besides, if she knew Malachi well enough, he’d show up. He’d be here to back her up. As she checked her reserves, she flexed a hand, an absent gesture. She frowned as she realized just how very low her energy was. She didn’t even know if she had fumes to operate on.
But she couldn’t walk away. She felt the pulse and ebb of the vampires inside and despite her lack of interest in life itself, she still had a keen interest in fighting the good fight.
“A good Hunter never leaves the job undone and all that rot,” she mumbled to herself.
They were resting now—or rather, two of them were. The older one had enough years behind him that he didn’t immediately collapse when the sun breached the horizon. He had been the one to bite her.
For a few moments, she’d almost let him win. Blood loss would kill her. That was a certain fact—all animals needed their lifeblood, and witch or no, she was just another animal.
But then she’d heard the wail of sirens. Somebody had called the police, some kind soul probably thinking they were doing something good. Or maybe it had just been somebody annoyed by the noise.
It didn’t matter, though. The police had been coming and they weren’t equipped to deal with vampires. If she died, then the police would stumble blindly into something they couldn’t handle.
So, once more, with death just a wish away, she’d fought back. Hating every last second of it.
She reached for the doorknob but a wave of weakness washed over her. In the back of her mind, Morgan laughed. Even in death, the bitch continued to taunt Nessa. Go on inside, old woman. He could use a tasty treat.
“Hmmm, perhaps. The silver I pumped inside him will be munching away at his insides by now, though.”
It had been
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