Blood coated his jaw, neck and the arm he’d collapsed on, and it had dripped to the ground beneath him, not soaking in but pooling on the frozen surface. Heart in her throat, she gingerly peeled back the lapel of his coat. Her stomach turned. His neck was literally torn apart.
Thoughts shot through her brain in a rapid-fire barrage. Is he alive? Oh, God, he’s gotta be dead. Could the shooter still be here? That blood…that freaking blood is what I smell. But how? Help him. Help him!
Kate dialed 03 on her phone and waited, eyes still on the man’s form, trying to discern movement. Gently, she laid her hand on the middle of his back. There! Her hand felt the soft rise and fall her eyes couldn’t perceive.
Relief rushed through her.
The operator answered in Russian, inquiring about the nature of her emergency and her location, and Kate had never been more glad for her fluency in the language. “I found an unconscious man. I think he’s been shot. He’s bleeding really badly from his neck and leg.”
“Did you see the shooting? Is the shooter still in the area?”
She whipped her gaze to the right, then the left. All remained silent and still, except her. But what if whoever did this was hiding? Watching her. Watching him. Rage shot up Kate’s spine, almost stealing her breath. She was nearly disoriented by the emotion’s intensity and unexpectedness. No one will hurt him again. Dizziness threatened at the bizarre thought. She shook her head and struggled to be present in the moment. “Uh, no. I…I didn’t see anything. And I don’t think anyone else is here.”
The dispatcher fired off a stream of questions Kate did her best to answer. At the woman’s suggestion, she yanked off a glove and sacrificed it to the cause of applying pressure to his neck wound.
Anything to help him.
She turned down the offer to stay on the line until the ambulance arrived. The flashlight feature drained her cell battery quickly and it was already running low.
Nuzhna pomoshch′. Need help.
Kate fumbled her cell phone at the reappearance of the voice. Her nerves were just frayed. That’s what it was. Must be. There was no one else here.
She set her phone on the ground next to them, light shining where she was working on his neck, and blew out a breath that failed to calm. “Come on, mister. Hang in there. Help’s on its way.”
Blood saturated her glove and Kate gasped as the warmth kissed her palm. She jerked back and scrubbed her right hand against her thigh. The oddest tingling erupted in her other hand as she rubbed against the denim. Ignoring the sensation, Kate tossed the ruined glove away and pulled off her left one. Her gaze scanned him as she murmured in low tones for him to hold on.
His hat. His hat was thicker than her glove. Gently, she pulled the cap off the back of his head, spilling blond hair mostly pulled into a ponytail. She slid her palm under his forehead to provide some cushion against the cold hard ground as she removed the front of the hat. Securing the thick folded knit against the crook of his neck, she eased her hand out from under him.
His head rolled enough to reveal his face in profile.
Kate gaped and moaned.
She scrabbled backward until her spine slammed into the brick wall of the looming building.
Between his parted, anguished lips, two sharp teeth protruded.
Fangs.
He had fangs.
Chapter Three
Vampire.
Her heart pounded in her chest, forcing her blood through her veins so hard and fast the roaring whoosh of it filled her ears.
He was a freaking vampire!
But…oh, God…what kind?
Kate had to look. Either way, she had to know what she was dealing with. Light-headedness threatened from her rapid breathing, but Kate forced herself to creep onto her knees and reach out a shaking hand. Shining her flashlight on his face, she flinched as her thumb pressed to his eyelid.
Please, please, please. The light quivered as she lifted the thin membrane of skin, hoping against hope it didn’t reveal the soulless black iris and sclera of a Soul Eater. Her whole body sagged in relief. A perfectly white sclera and bright sapphire-blue iris shined out at her.
Oh, thank God.
Not one of the evil ones, then. She dropped her head into her hands and sucked in deep breaths that did little to ease her.
She’d traveled five thousand miles to get away from vampires—from studying them, preparing to serve them, from the possibility of a future involving them—and here she sat, in a pitch-black alley, with an unconscious one at her feet.
And, holy shit, she wasn’t even going to let herself think about why the vampire’s blood had affected her that way. Why it still affected her body and instincts and reactions even now.