Immortal Redeemed. Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
hit the stairs.
He saw McKenna at the window. The damn vampire was dangling a few feet above her, its white face gleaming with malice.
Kellan knew he could get past Detective Miller easily enough, but if he used his special speed, the cop would know there were things on this earth that lay beyond the realm of the possible. Miller’s gun could slow the rogue vampire down if the detective got off a few rounds, yet those bullets wouldn’t kill the monster, even if Kellan were to point the bloodsucker out.
This was his problem. Taking care of bad guys was what he did.
“Why were you with her? What’s McKenna to you?” Miller asked as Kellan turned toward him.
“Is that your business?” Kellan asked.
“I’ve just made it my business.”
Kellan figured he had a few seconds at most to play along with the detective’s line of questioning.
“I gave her a ride,” he said.
Miller’s dark eyes were almost rudely assessing. “Yes. That’s why the lights were off in her apartment, as well as your jacket. Mac’s gratefulness for that ride being the reason?”
Kellan kept his eyes on the detective so as not to call attention to the monster closing in. He said, “I offered to get her home when she needed help.”
“Mac seldom needs help. So if she did, you have my thanks for that.”
Of course, Miller didn’t mean that about the thanks. Most likely he’d been informed about the call McKenna had made, though, and would know she tried to reach him first.
This was checkmate when there was no need of it. Kellan supposed he would be pressed to honor his vows to the end, as he always did, so that humans wouldn’t panic over seeing what hid in the shadows. He went so far as to think about showing his fangs to this detective, just to get Miller on board.
Turning to the Harley, Kellan peered over his shoulder. The vampire had reached McKenna’s window, where she was standing very close to the glass. Another couple of breaths and the rogue would find its way in.
Kellan considered what might constitute the lesser of two evils. Reveal himself and his abilities to this detective and get to McKenna, or let Miller find out the hard way about one of the world’s darkest secrets.
“I forgot something,” Kellan said, rounding back to where the detective stood.
“I’ll save it for you, whatever it is,” Miller promised sarcastically, pushing off the wall to block the doorway.
“It’s important that I go back up there, Detective.”
Miller gave him a look that more or less translated to over my dead body. But by then the sound of breaking glass filled the night.
* * *
McKenna didn’t know what happened. One minute she was looking at the two men on the sidewalk, and the next minute there were shards of shattered glass in her face.
She stumbled back, caught herself from falling on the bed and sprang sideways with an adrenaline surge as something barreled through the opening that moments ago had been a sturdy dual-paned window.
Intruder.
A shout lodged in her throat, but her police-trained reflexes rallied. She hit the floor and rolled toward where her gun was hidden in a drawer, figuring that timing would be her ally and provide the precious seconds necessary for her to protect herself from attack.
Unfortunately, she didn’t get far. The guy was incredibly fast. Strong hands caught her by the hair and swung her around. Gasping, she was on her back before her next breath, smelling the rancid odor coming from her attacker’s open mouth.
McKenna kicked out. Her bare right foot connected with the man’s shin, but he didn’t seem to feel it. He was a fighter, and superhumanly strong. Although she’d kicked with all her might, being shoeless wasn’t in her favor. Her foot hurt like hell.
He was on top of her in seconds.
No way was she going to give up.
McKenna punched him with both hands and managed to rip the skin from his face with her nails. She struggled, squirmed and fought with an energy born of both fear and anger.
She was against the wall without knowing how she’d got there. The attacker’s face came close—a pasty angular death mask with dark holes for eyes.
“Freak!” she rasped as his hands encircled her throat and began to squeeze.
She got her arms under his and shoved hers upward to break his choke hold. Dropping her weight, she again hit the floor in time to slide out from under him.
He grunted once and again caught her by the hair. With a sickening heave he had her upright and shoved against the same damn wall. His hands returned to her throat.
She groaned as her breath left her and her lids fluttered toward stillness.
* * *
“What the hell?” The detective’s startled shout preceded Kellan’s race to the stairs.
Kellan was beyond caring about vows and secrets now. If anything happened to McKenna, he’d be one sorry immortal.
He was at her door in seconds and through it in less time than it took for Miller to gather himself enough to follow. One quick scan told him that the beast, in a blur of malice and motion, had McKenna by the throat.
Kellan pulled the vampire off her and held the abomination suspended in the air as he spoke McKenna’s name, needing to know he was in time and she was all right. He had never faced the meaning of real fear until she didn’t answer.
The vampire in his grip was young and unaware of beings with greater power. It spit and hissed and fought with the strength of two human men, but was no match for a Blood Knight.
Kellan threw the beast against the same wall McKenna had slid down. Hearing Detective Miller’s approach, and regretful over not having the time to deal the bloodsucker some retribution, he clutched the vampire, moved to the window and tossed the beast out.
“Another time, fiend,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “You’d better hope it’s not anywhere near here.”
“McKenna?” Miller was calling her name, kneeling by McKenna’s side, turning her over. She was on the floor with her head against the legs of a chair. Her eyes were closed.
“McKenna, open your eyes,” Miller directed. “Look at me. You’re going to be okay. Tell me you’re all right.”
Kellan watched, wanting to help, desperate to go to her. Frustrated, he made himself wait, hearing the rapid patter of McKenna’s heartbeat from where he stood and the staccato intake of her ragged breaths.
Miller turned his head. “Where did the bastard go?”
“It exited the same way it got in,” Kellan said, withholding the part about throwing the bloodsucker out and onto its five-year-dead ass.
Miller didn’t seem to notice the it part.
“Help her,” Miller directed, pulling a phone from his pocket to call the incident in. “Jesus, there isn’t a decent place left in this goddamn city to live.”
Kellan relished the chance to get close to McKenna. As the detective barked orders into the phone, he took McKenna in his arms, brushed the hair back from her face and spoke in a soft tone. “You’re not hurt, McKenna. I won’t allow that, and neither will you. Do you hear me?”
He used his power of suggestion to convince her of this, adding, “Open your eyes. See me and believe that what I say is true.”
She obeyed. Her sapphire-blue eyes blinked slowly.
“That’s good,” he said. “Now take a deep breath and push back the fear. It’s over.