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“She's not here,” she answered, hesitantly.

“What do you mean she's not there?” he barked, frightening another group of women into running across the street and almost getting hit by a car. At the moment he was simply too pissed to be aggravated by their stupidity. “Where did she go after she picked you up?” he demanded, quickening his stride.

There was a heavy pause before she answered. “She didn't pick me up, Christofer. I wasn't sure if she was running late or not.”

“Where are you?” he demanded, feeling his temper rise as his fangs throbbed in anticipation. He ran his tongue over his teeth to keep them at bay.

“Home, but I can't find her anywhere, Christofer. I'm very worried.” she rushed out, her accent becoming more pronounced with each passing second.

“How did you get home, Marta?” he asked with barely restrained fury.

“I-I took a taxi,” she whispered nervously and for good reason.

“She's fired,” Christofer bit out as he broke out into a run, no longer caring that he was still in view of the town.

“But, Christofer-”

“This is no longer up for discussion, Marta. She'll be leaving tonight,” he said firmly, not bothering to tell his sister that he'd be draining the bitch's body dry for failing to keep her safe.

“But, Christofer-”

“Tonight,” he bit out coldly, cutting his sister off before he hung up. He was in no mood to argue with his sister tonight. Allowing his sister to keep Cloe around had been a mistake, one that he wouldn't allow her to repeat. It had been foolish to bring someone else into their home when she had him.

He slowed his pace to a walk once he came in view of his house. His eyes shot over to Cloe's parked SUV as he allowed his fangs to finally slide down. Tonight he was going to drink the blood that had been tormenting him for over a week and he was going to f**king savor every last drop of it, he decided with a predatory grin when he heard the second, more frantic, heartbeat coming from the backyard.

He headed towards the backyard, more than eager to fire the bitch.

Chapter 9

He followed the sounds of her erratic heartbeat to the old shed and growled in anticipation as the scent of her fear hit him, hard. His c**k hardened painfully just thinking about sinking his teeth into her beautiful skin, but he knew that he wouldn't do anything more than drain her. She wasn't worth more than that.

She'd f**ked up big time and he was not the forgiving type. Against his better judgment, she'd been entrusted with the care of his sister and had failed miserably. Marta had been abandoned and left to fend for herself, something he hadn't allowed in over forty years and he wouldn't tolerate now.

Another wave of her fear hit him and his knees nearly buckled in ecstasy. He inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma. It had been so damn long since he'd fed from the source. He could hardly wait to rip open the shed door and tear into her throat, but he forced himself to savor the moment.

He considered thanking his sister for warning Cloe that she was in danger, but knew it would probably be a long time before Marta spoke to him again. At the moment he simply didn't care. Marta had known the danger she was courting when she’d invited the young woman to live with them. Nobody knew better than Marta what he was capable of.

If she really thought warning Cloe to make a run for it would save her then she'd been sadly mistaken. Marta would have been better off keeping the woman protectively by her side. He would never release the monster inside of him in front of his sister, not again, and she had to have known that. Warning Cloe so that she could run only fueled his need and with Marta out of the way there was nothing in this world that was going to stop this.

He reached out and turned the doorknob, chuckling darkly when he found it locked. Did she really think that she could keep him out with a flimsy lock? Marta must not have explained the situation very well. Otherwise, Cloe would have tried to escape him by using her car instead of trying to hide from him. Not that it would have made much of a difference in the end. After what she did tonight he would have gladly hunted her down.

With a small flick of his wrist he broke the lock and jerked the door open. Even in the pitch black shed it didn't take him long to find her. The darker an area, the brighter everything appeared to him. She sat against the opposite wall with her arms wrapped around her indrawn knees. She looked absolutely terrified, Christofer noted with morbid satisfaction.

“Cloe,” he said softly, wanting to watch her fear explode before he took her. She was going to suffer for every second of fear that she'd caused his sister. He would make sure-

“Christofer?” she mumbled around a small sob as she awkwardly got to her feet and rushed him. He didn't even bother preparing himself for her attack, knowing there was absolutely nothing she could do that he wouldn't heal from.

“Christofer!” she cried softly as she......

Threw herself into his arms?

What. The. Hell?

Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as her arms circled around his neck, damn near cutting off his air supply, not that he needed it. She panted quietly against the crook of his neck as her body trembled almost violently in his arms.

Christofer stood there for a moment, stunned. After a slight hesitation, his arms came around her and held her tightly against him, unable to help himself. It had been so damn long since someone willingly went to him, never mind touched him like this. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of adrenaline and fear as it poured off her. The combination mixed with her already enticing blood was too much for him to take.

He licked his lips in anticipation as his eyes latched onto a patch of beautiful tan skin just below her neck as he moved in for a taste. As much as he wanted to savor the moment, he knew that he'd probably tear into her throat and lose control when the first drop of her blood hit his tongue. It had been far too long since he’d fed from the source and Cloe's blood was too damn-

“Ow!” he snapped, startled as he realized that something hit him upside his head. Pulling his head back, he quickly turned around, expecting to see his sister standing there only to discover that they were still alone. Which meant....

“Why the hell did you hit me?” he demanded as he stepped out of the shed and into the pitch-black backyard.

As if to answer his question, she slapped him upside his head, again.

“What the hell is your problem?” he demanded, gripping her h*ps to pull her off only to find her legs locked in a death grip around his waist. She had him so damn confused that he had no idea what he should be doing with the infuriating woman.


Tags: R.L. Mathewson Pyte/Sentinel Fantasy