Dahlia ran. With each step, she burned precious vitality. It wasn't intentional; it was just how her body worked. Unfortunately, it also pushed her away from the sensations she craved so badly. She was undead, which meant she didn't get to live life like a human. No, that was the curse. Everything she wanted always stayed just a hair out of reach, including safety - and Thane was hot on her heels.
What she needed was a gun, but she hadn't been able to hide one in this dress. She'd thought impressing Mei would be enough. Never would she have expected to find inquisitors in Dallas, of all places. They were supposed to hang out in New York or New Orleans. They liked big cities with big supernatural problems, not a pair of women who tried to leave their meals walking when they left.
Although the man behind her wasn't a normal inquisitor. Over the centuries, she'd met many - and left most dead - but they'd all been priests. Not a single one of them tried to pick her up! Only a handful had ever been able to match her strength. However, the fact that he didn't recognize her wasn't shocking. It was hard to be identified if she killed the people who figured out she wasn't human.
That meant he had no idea what she was capable of. The inquisitors would try to claim she was something from myths - a vampire, a succubus, a ghost, or worse. They would assume her abilities would match the thing they named her, but they were wrong. That was the only advantage she had, and as Dahlia headed into a large abandoned building, she needed all of those she could get.
Inside, her feet echoed on the concrete, the empty rooms sending the sound back like a cave. It was dark, but that would only help. She raced for a stairwell on the far side, barely making it out of sight before she heard him thunder in behind her. She had to get higher.
"You're trapped," he called out, slowing to a walk.
Dahlia huffed out a laugh, struggling to catch her breath. "I think I've heard that before." She kept climbing, aiming for the fourth floor.
He hit the stairs below her. "I just want to know one thing."
"What's that?"
He wasn't running, probably trying to catch his breath. "How did you touch the cross?"
"Nuh-uh." She tried to look over, hoping to see how far below her he was. The echo in the stairwell made it impossible to tell. "I may be blonde, but I'm not that stupid."
"Dumb enough to come on to an inquisitor," he pointed out.
"And you were dumb enough to let me. So what does that say?"
He chuckled. "That I'm a sucker for a pretty face."
"Not common in priests."
"Maybe I'm not a priest."
She was almost there. Just half a flight of stairs to go, but that wasn't what she'd expected him to say. Inquisitors were always priests. At least every time she'd tangled with them. Then again, it had been a while. How much had changed in their warped version of religion?
"Ever think that might be why it doesn't work?" she taunted. "I hear there's something to that whole celibacy thing."
"Was kinda what I was wondering," he admitted, his feet moving a bit faster. "And yet it's worked before. That makes me wonder why you're so different."
Dahlia grabbed the handle now in front of her, pleased to find it wasn't locked. "So you plan to make me into a zoo specimen? Or just a science experiment, until you kill me?"
"You're already dead."
She didn't bother responding, just turned the knob and stepped in, easing the door closed behind her. Let the bastard wonder. If he was good, he'd figure it out. If she was lucky, he'd keep going, thinking she was still moving above him. Either way, she was a step ahead.
Moving as silently as possible, she headed around the corner and toward the windows. Many were broken, but few were completely destroyed. Finding one with a gap large enough for her body wasn't going to be easy, and she would rather not get sliced apart. Getting the blood stains out of her dress was going to be bad enough. If she cut it to shreds, it would be a total write-off.
Beneath her shoes, debris crunched softly. No matter how hard she tried, her body still had mass, and that meant weight. The tiny stiletto heels were begging to click on the floor. Her breathing was too loud. Alone, each sound screamed in her ears like a beacon to tell Thane exactly where she was.
Something clanked. Around her, the building settled. Through the partially covered windows, she could hear the sounds of Dallas continuing on like normal. She had no idea which direction she was facing, who would be outside, or where the fuck that inquisitor had disappeared to, but she needed a way out, and fast.
Then she saw it. An entire window open to the sky beyond. Amber lights warmed the air outside, making it look like heaven. That was her salvation, an escape route the inquisitor wouldn't be able to take. In her excitement, she moved faster, tip toeing as lightly as she could.
She passed the last support column, ready to jog, when he hit her, sending her crashing to the ground. A whimper slipped out, but she rolled. How the fuck? Where did the bastard come from?
She came up ready to fight. The skin on her knee was scraped. She could feel the blood trickling down inside her boot. In the palm of her hand was something sharp, probably glass. None of it would matter. Either she'd make it to the window or she'd never worry about anything again. In the dim light, Thane stood ready for a real fight, that damned metal spike glistening with power.
Chapter Four
DAHLIA