1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Cora

“I’m going to end you!” Cora shouted at the mostly closed bedroom door. It was an empty threat, but she felt better for having stated her intentions.

She’d already searched the sparse bedroom for weapons but came up with nothing. Who didn't at least keep a baseball bat next to the bed or a knife in the nightstand drawer? But no, there wasn’t even an en suite bathroom where she’d be able to use the heavy ceramic toilet tank lid as a bludgeoning tool.

Creeping up to the door, she peeked out the sliver-sized opening. The hulking shadow beyond hadn’t moved since the last time she looked. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was a statue. The only thing that moved at all were those blood-red eyes. They slid over to meet hers without his head shifting. The guy's absolute stillness was freakish.

Considering what was going on, she wished his ability to be perfectly stationary was the strangest thing he did. Unfortunately, both the odd eye color and preternatural stillness ranked low on the list of inexplicable things. Much higher was the man's ability to shift into a griffin and fly away with her clutched in his claws!

“No one’s going to believe me,” she muttered, thinking about her father and brothers. If she had her cell, she’d call them, and they’d come in with guns blazing. Even if they thought she was crazy to talk about vampires and shape changers, they wouldn’t hesitate. Not that she should need rescuing—she was a badass bitch who wasn’t afraid of anyone.

Except that wasn’t exactly true anymore. After watching a vampire rip a man in half with his bare hands as easily as she’d tear a sheet of paper, she was scared. Even worse, that same vampire was the one standing in the living room.

Running her fingers through her black hair, she tugged hard at the ends. At least Imani knew she’d been abducted by the red-eyed vampire. Imani was her best friend and a vampire too, so she could stand up to him, right?

Except Imani was a young vampire, and this guy was obviously old and powerful. Even if Imani found this apartment, she could end up getting seriously hurt trying to rescue Cora. Maybe even killed.

Cora pulled her hair forward, covering her vision with black and purple strands. “This is a fucking mess.”

For a full minute she let self-pity take over. The bedroom window was boarded up. Even if she could get a board free, she was on the third or fourth story. Despite what action movies might have audiences believe, climbing down the side of an apartment building wasn’t an option, not even if she tied the bed sheets together to make a rope.

Another wave of hopelessness hit her hard. This was not how she wanted to die. “There’s nothing I can do.”

No sooner did that thought cross her mind than she got angry. Yes, anger was much better than fear or self-pity.

“What am I doing, standing around feeling sorry for myself and waiting to be rescued?” she asked the empty room, squaring her shoulders and dropping her hands to her hips. Lifting her head, she swung her hair out of her face and looked at the door.

“I’m going to walk out that door and leave,” she stated, as if she hadn’t already tried to do that multiple times.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open. This time, she didn’t edge around the vampire or walk past pretending not to see him; she sprinted. The figure followed her with his eyes but didn’t move otherwise. She couldn’t be sure he was even breathing. Maybe she could take him by surprise and be out of the apartment before he had a chance to act.

Her hopefulness did nothing and this attempt at escape ended the same way as the previous one .

She was almost to the front door when he was suddenly a blur of movement. One moment he was standing in the center of the room like a red-eyed statue, and the next he was in front of her with no change of expression at all. He picked her up, effortlessly carrying her back into the apartment's only bedroom. After setting her down, he took up his same position in the living room.

Once again, she was back in the bedroom with the door wide open and those red eyes trained on her.

“Fuck!” she screamed and punched the wall. Her fist went through the paper-thin drywall and scraped against a stud. Pulling her hand free, she saw blood flowing from her knuckles. Flexing her fingers, she noted nothing was broken, but now her knuckles hurt.

She was still looking at her bleeding skin when two larger hands went around hers. She watched as the vampire’s big hands cradled her hand like a wounded bird.

Looking up, she found his expression had finally changed. He looked worried.

“No hurt,” he whispered. “Please.”

Maybe he wasn’t waiting to make a snack out of her. Could he even care about her? She needed to leverage that.

“Will you let me leave?” she asked.

His expression went from worried to desolate. He looked like he might cry. “No leave me. No leave us.”

“Us?” she murmured, transfixed by his expressive face. “Who else lives here?”

“Me.” Both of them looked up to see David Pike, known as only Pike to his friends, standing in the open door of the apartment. Standing at six-foot-all-the-inches, the black hair on Pike’s head brushed the top of the doorway as he stepped through. His broad shoulders forced him to turn slightly to avoid bumping the sides of the doorway.

She’d gone out on a few dates with the giant man and found him gentle, kind, and unbelievably sexy. There had been instant sparks between the two of them and for the first time in years, she considered sleeping with someone. Maybe even risking a relationship.

“Pike!” Cora said, excited to see potential rescue. Her relief was short-lived as she remembered that the man gently holding her hand was capable of astonishing violence. “Run! Find Imani and get help!”

To her horror, Pike finished stepping into the apartment and closed the door as if there wasn't a red-eyed monster standing between them exuding menace. “What are you doing?” Cora screeched and grabbed hold of the vampire's hands to keep him with her instead of attacking Pike.

“Do you have no sense of self-preservation? You saw what this creature is capable of! Run!”

Pike held up both hands palms out and made a soothing sound. His hazel eyes were bright with calm concern. The weird part was he was trying to soothe her, not the vampire.

“It’s going to be okay.”

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “We’re all dead,” she whispered.

“We’re safe with Kimble, I promise,” he said, crossing the room into the bedroom. “He’d rather die than hurt either of us. If anything, he’s probably going to need our help very soon.”

Cora went from raging fear to absolute confusion. “What?”

Pike didn’t stop until he was close enough to put his hands over Kimble’s. Standing at only five foot three, Cora was used to having to look up at everyone, but Pike’s hulking body towered over both her and the vampire. Letting go of Kimble’s hands, she rubbed her face, then met Pike’s eyes.

Frowning, Pike stared at Cora’s bloody knuckles. “What did you do?”

He was worried about a few scrapes while holding hands with Death? This was surreal.

Cora nodded to the wall. “Me vs the wall. Of all the luck, I hit a stud.”

Pike blinked at her a few times, then a slow grin spread across his face. “You punched the wall?”

Either she was lightheaded, or Pike’s grin was infectious. She found herself smiling up at him and shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You’re like a swan, gorgeous but surprisingly aggressive and scary. I bet you tried to hit Kimble first, didn’t you?”

She’d been compared to a lot of animals in her life, including a New York rat, but never a swan. No one ever called her something that was the symbol of grace and poise. Pike was like that, always finding ways to compliment her .

“I didn’t hit him,” she said, rolling her eyes up to take in Kimble's look of concentration. It seemed like he was trying to follow their conversation but wasn’t getting all the words.

“Don’t lie,” Pike pressed.

“I didn’t hit him more than two or three times,” Cora confessed.

Pike chuckled, then abruptly stopped when Kimble started swaying. “Damn it!”

Letting go of his hands, Pike swept Kimble up in his arms. The vampire seemed to deflate before her eyes. It wasn’t only because Pike was so much bigger compared to Kimble; he looked suddenly gaunt and exhausted.

Cora followed as Pike carried Kimble to the bed. After Pike’s words, she had mixed feelings about the vampire's sudden weakness.

He might be a brutal murderer, but he’d done that to protect her and Imani. He’d carried her off without permission, but even after they were alone, he hadn’t done anything to hurt her. He hadn’t even retaliated when one of her blows got him full in the face.

Pike drew the covers up over Kimble, covering his bare feet and old, too big clothing. Leaning in close, he gave the red-eyed man a kiss on the forehead. Jealousy raged through Cora, but confusion kept her quiet. She wanted to accuse Pike of cheating on her or making her his side chick, but she also felt moved by his display of gentleness.

A kiss on the forehead didn’t mean lovers. Maybe they were brothers or cousins?

Pike drew back so he could smile at the vampire. “Rest, I’ll get you food. I promise both Cora and I are safe.”

“No leave,” the vampire whispered, his voice fearful and hoarse.

“We won’t leave until you’re back on your feet,” Pike promised, then straightened up. “Cora and I need to talk. After you’ve fed, you need to do better. You can’t carry her off or restrain her like you did.”

Kimble’s brows wrinkled. “Kept safe.”

“You did great by killing Vincent, but you shouldn’t have flown here,” Pike admonished. He sounded like he was talking to a five-year-old and not a deadly mythical creature! “If you’d waited, I could have driven us all home.”

Kimble’s expression turned stubborn, and he tugged the blanket higher as he repeated, “Kept safe!”

He was so weak, Pike had to help him get the blanket to his shoulders. “I know that’s what you meant to do,” Pike agreed with a sigh. “We can talk about it later.”

Kimble made a grumpy sound, rolled on his side and closed his eyes. Cora got the distinct impression the vampire was pouting.

Turning to face her, Pike pointed to the living room. Walking ahead of him, she came to a stop in the center and eyed the front door.

She could run. The door was right there. Everything she knew about Pike told her that he wouldn’t try to stop her.

“Please don't leave. Give me a chance to explain."

Cora turned to face Pike. He was standing with his back to the closed bedroom door, hands in his pockets, and looking at her with his typical sincere expression. He was such a big guy that most people would be intimidated by him, but it had taken Cora all of five minutes to realize he was a gentle soul wrapped in a hulking body.

“If I let you talk, can I leave after?”

“You can leave at any time,” he started to say, and she snorted derisively, making Pike wince. “I mean, you can leave now that Kimble is so weak. I won't try and stop you, but I really hope you'll give me and Kimble a chance.”

She must’ve taken a blow to the head because she wasn’t turning tail and running. Instead, she looked at the ancient couch next to her. At one time, it had probably been a light tan color, but grime and stains had turned it into a dirty Rorschach test.

“I'm not sitting on that. I might catch something.”

Pike grinned. “I don't blame you. It came with the apartment.”

He pointed to the kitchenette area where there was a small round table with two chairs. “Are you hungry or thirsty?”

His question made Cora realize she was dying of thirst. “I could use a drink.”

With a nod, he walked to the fridge. She followed him to the kitchen area and sat. Both the table and chair were sturdy but battered. She knew Pike worked three jobs and made decent money, but everything he owned looked like it should be taking up space in a landfill. Where was all the money going?

“Do you have any of those Coca-Cola’s? The ones in the glass bottle that have the cane sugar in them?” she asked as he rummaged around in the fridge. How had she gone from being afraid for her life to asking for a sweet drink? If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was stuck in a bizarre fever dream.

Pike emerged from the fridge with a glass bottle held in each hand. Nudging the door closed with his hip, he flicked the caps off the bottles with his thumbs. Huh, neat trick. A single stride brought him to the table, and he handed her a drink as he sat down on the opposite side.

Neither talked as both took long swallows. The sweet flavor tasted good, and the cold carbonation was soothing on her throat, sore from screaming and cursing at Kimble. The sugar hit her empty stomach, making her instantly feel better. She drank half the bottle in one go, then set it down on the table with a clink.

“Time to explain to me what the fuck is going on.”