Мишель Роуэн - Stakes & Stilettos

He cocked his head to the side. "How can I possibly take pleasure from something that is as easy as shooting fish in a barrel?"

"Then why the hell do you do it?"

"Because it is what I was born to do. I am the last in a very long line of hunters, Sarah. I went to Harvard and was first in my class. I could have become anything I wanted, but I chose to stay with the family business. Does that make me a bad person?"

"No, it makes you a sick, evil bastard."

He laughed. "A tongue as sharp as her reputation. And you feel no fear of me right now?

I'm very impressed."

A line of perspiration slid down my spine. "No, you're wrong. I'm scared completely shitless. But if I'm going to die, I want you to know exactly what I think of you."

He sighed. "Sarah, how many times must I tell you? I don't plan to kill you."

"You don't?"

He shook his head slowly. "No."

"Then what do you want from me?"

He drew a sharp, silver-bladed knife out from the back of his pants. My eyes widened as the metal caught the light. He took a step closer to me and I took an immediate step backward. Then he smiled and leaned over to place it on the ground between us.

"Pick up the knife, Sarah," he said.

I stared at it, then at him, but I didn't make any moves.

His smile widened. "Your heart must be beating very quickly right now, isn't it?"

I frowned. My heart. It… it wasn't beating at all. I placed my palm on my chest, but felt nothing. My gaze snapped back up to his. He had his hand out, and dangling on his index finger was the gold chain.

"Took this back when you were snoozing," he said. "Hope you don't mind me borrowing it for a minute."

"Give that back to me."

"Here's the scenario, Sarah. And this should be interesting." He twirled the chain around his finger. "Pick up the knife. And then come over here and kill me. Then you can take the chain back. I even promise not to fight back at all."

I blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"You are the Slayer of Slayers. And look at me. I'm the biggest slayer of them all. I'm a very bad man who has done very bad things. You have every right to kill me, so go ahead and do it. Then you can have your chain back and return to your happy little life with your master-vampire boyfriend."

I bent over and snatched up the knife. My hands were sweating.

"Good," Gideon said. He slipped the gold chain into the pocket of his black pants, then sat down in the chair again and began to unbutton his shirt. "Let me make it easier for you."

He bared his chest. One side was smooth and perfectly chiseled muscle. The other resembled melting wax from being burned.

His throat worked as he swallowed. "Many women have gazed at me as you do now, only they did so with desire, not pity in their eyes."

My attention returned to his face. "Wow. Brag much?"

"It's not bragging if it's the truth."

"Just for the record, I already know about your rep as a ladies' man. Hooray for you.

Second, the last thing I'm feeling at the moment is pity. More like disgust and hatred."

He stroked his chest. "Right here. Plunge the knife exactly here and you will get my heart."

I took a step closer to him. "Is this a trick or do you really want me to kill you?"

"It's not a trick. Kill me, Sarah, and then you can have your chain back."

I clutched the knife and drew closer until I was only a foot away from him.

Kill a man who had killed so many. Whose very existence helped fuel the hunter organization. Whose money went to pay for weapons and travel so hunters could come and get us where we lived.

Gideon Chase definitely deserved to die.

The Slayer of Slayers reputation was a false one. Mostly. But it had started because I had killed a hunter. The hunter had tried to put a stake in my chest. I'd managed to shoot him in self-defense before he got the chance. I had every right to do it, but I still felt bad about it. I wasn't a murderer. I'd done it to protect my life. It had been him or me.

This was different. Even though I knew Gideon was a horrible person who also deserved to die, probably even more than that other hunter had, this… this wasn't right. I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill somebody in cold blood.

This had to be a trick. It had to be. He sat there, his green eyes open and fixed on me, his bare chest moving in and out with his breathing. I expected him to reach up and grab me, to turn the tables and plunge the silver knife into my chest instead. But he didn't make any move as I touched the sharp tip of the blade to his skin.

I blinked and felt tears splash down to my cheeks.

Gideon raised an eyebrow. "Having difficulties?"

"Dammit," I said softly, and then louder, "Dammit!"

I threw the knife away and it clattered and clanged, the hollow sound echoing against the walls of the empty factory.

Gideon frowned up at me. "A lot of people would have welcomed the chance to kill me."

I sighed very shakily. "Yeah, well, I guess I don't belong to that club."

"Don't say that I didn't give you the opportunity."

"Screw you."

"Lovely." He smirked at me and then stood up from the chair.

I scanned my surroundings for an exit, but even with my improved vampire eyesight it was too dark. I couldn't even see the walls. I felt trapped and very afraid. "I have places I need to be. Since you said you weren't planning on killing me, I can assume I can leave now?

With my necklace?"

"Not quite yet." He studied me, his gaze that was amused before changed to a colder one.

"I want something from you, Sarah. There is something about you that makes you very special."

I crossed my arms tightly in front of me. "My sparkling personality?"

"Other than that."

I exhaled shakily. "The nightwalker thing? Yeah, I'm sure a nightwalker would make more interesting prey than a regular vamp. You kind of missed out on the original massacre, didn't you? Well, sorry to break it to you, but it's just a curse, even though it's a permanent one."

"Because the witch is dead."

"How do you know that, anyhow?" But I already knew the answer before he said it out loud.

"Because I killed her," he said evenly.

I sucked in a breath and tried to stay calm as I flashed back on Stacy lying in her bed with the knife sticking out of her lingerie-clad chest. "Why would you do that?"

His throat moved as he swallowed. "I had her use magic to try to heal me. She was able to relieve my pain for a short time but that was all. She failed me and she had to be punished."

I felt ill. My stomach churned. Gideon was the man Stacy thought she was in love with.

The reason she planned to give up black magic to become a "healer."

He'd killed her and he'd also killed my chances to break the curse.

Gideon continued, ignoring the stricken expression on my face. "Your being a nightwalker, even only a cursed one, has nothing to do with what I want. It has a great deal more to do with your very special blood."

"My blood?" I repeated shakily.

"Two master vampires have allowed you to drink from them. It has changed something in your internal makeup. Master vampires do not share their blood, and if they do it is with only one fledgling. Multiple masters giving blood to a fledgling is a very rare event. In fact, it's an unwritten rule amongst their kind that they don't do this."

I shook my head. "It's only a rumor that it makes a difference."

"It's not a rumor. It is fact. However, I'm still not certain that two masters are enough."

He frowned. "I have reason to believe that your blood can cure me. It can heal me."

That surprised me. I licked my dry lips. "Heal… heal your scars, you mean?"

"That's right. But also the hellfire I was exposed to continues to burn into me and cause its damage even as we stand here. It won't be long before it slowly consumes me completely, and when I die, Hell itself will claim me, body and soul." His jaw clenched. "But I think that your blood has the potential to cure all of my ailments and make me stronger than I was before."