Aline Hunter - Vampire Mine

Pain—raw and intense—slammed into Sadie Dumus.

Like a living creature it snaked its way through her system and clawed at her insides. The result of starvation, her body demanded the sustenance it needed to survive. Horror swept through her as she shoved a hand to her abdomen, willing the agony to disappear. Her muscles rebelled, flexing beneath her contorted fingers, creating more misery. The dryness in her throat made it difficult to breathe. Hunger and bloodlust roared to life, no longer willing to be contained.

Not now. Goddess. Not now.

She was so close to her goal, standing right at the finish line. Finally, after months of work, she’d managed to track Aldon Frost to his nest. It was the one place he’d be vulnerable, the only place she could learn his secrets. It had taken so much time, so much patience. He excelled at hiding his tracks, leading her down one path only to lose her on the next.

Tonight she’d finally managed to stay on his ass.

She’d followed him successfully, using every resource at her disposal. She phased, she hid and she watched. The bastard had finally taken her down an alley, toward what she was certain was his domain. Sadie’s coven viewed Aldon as a threat to the city. He was a rogue vampire drawn to the dark side of magic. As their protector and enforcer, it was her job and duty to take him out for her sisters-in-magic. What she hadn’t known was how defenseless she’d be when the opportunity finally struck.

As weak as a newborn kitten.

The magic inside her dimmed and the final reserves her ravaged body had managed to store ebbed away. She fought, willing her depleted muscles to keep going for just a little longer. She’d put herself at risk by using power she didn’t have, afraid that if she didn’t find his nest soon she never would.

Her heartbeat slowed to a horrific thudding in her chest. Without essential nutrients her organs were shutting down. It was only a matter of time. She’d known that. She’d thought she was ready for the moment to arrive. Her existence had become a cage of mirrors, reflecting her past back to her piece by morbid piece. They served as a reminder of what she’d done to herself.

She was going to die. It was inevitable.

There was no one to blame but herself.

Her feet shuffled, creating a dangerous sliver of sound she couldn’t afford.

Shit.

Leigh had told her to come clean with the coven about her circumstances but she hadn’t. If they ever found out she’d fed from a werewolf they’d shun her or kill her. Despite the fact it would leave the coven temporarily defenseless, they wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks. A vampire who was blood bound to a werewolf was the ultimate weakness in an enclave. She’d never feed from another, meaning she couldn’t heal herself by drinking from a passing stranger if the need arose. She also wouldn’t be able to move from place to place if her sisters-in-magic decided it was time for a change of scenery. Her importance depended on her ability to adapt. They required her to be ready and willing for whatever they needed.

She was their enforcer, the one entrusted with their protection.

Her stomach churned as a ball of fire erupted in her gut, begging for something—anything—to ease the persistent torture. Pushing her balled fist into her belly, she prayed for relief. She’d known it would come to this. The last few weeks had been hell. Each day was like sand slipping through an hourglass, each grain lost becoming another nail in her coffin. Her torment went beyond hunger at this point. The last blood she’d successfully ingested was long gone, dried up and all but forgotten. She’d been lucky to have lasted this long—a little over two months—without the nourishment necessary to survive.

The man she’d been tracking froze. His nostrils flared, his thick blond hair skimming over his shoulder as he turned. She tried not to panic, to rely on her training. Vampires could smell fear and she didn’t have the strength to mask the scent. Not with her shields falling so quickly, each breath she took like a ticking time bomb.

“Don’t bother trying to hide. I can feel you. Reveal yourself.”

To her utter mortification her magic chose that very moment to vanish.

Son of a bitch.

Here she was, face-to-face with a threat she couldn’t take down. In her current state Aldon could snap her like a twig. She couldn’t phase away, nor could she defend herself. Her vision blurred, the slow thudding of her heart ricocheting in her head. Damn it. She was fading faster than she thought possible.

Thankfully, he didn’t know that.

Not yet.

He took a step closer, sizing her up. He was so tall, like a fucking building hovering over her. His shoulders were much broader than hers, muscles visible beneath his trench coat. Although pale—as all vampires were prone to be—his skin had a swarthy hue. He’d blend in with mortals and immortals alike, beautiful to behold even if impossible to touch. As though he needed another weapon against helpless victims who would be powerless against him.

Bastard vampire.

“Why are you following me?”

“Who says I’m following you?” Thank the Goddess her voice sounded strong, her statement coming across as confident. “It’s a beautiful night to hunt. I decided to take advantage.” She arched a brow, giving him a thin smile. “Nocturnal creatures are known to cross paths from time to time.”

“True.” His expression revealed nothing as he studied her, his sky-blue irises vibrant in the dark. “Yet somehow I don’t think that’s the case.”

She wanted to think of a witty retort but a wave of exhaustion prevented it.

Fatigue swept through her, white dots speckling her vision. Pride kept her from falling on her face. She extended her arms, attempting to remain upright. How had she gone on for so long like this? How had she managed to convince herself she was still in control?

A memory flashed through her mind, making her withering heart skip a beat. Even now—with all the time that had passed—she ached when she thought of him . Her eyes burned with unshed tears, yearning and heartache forming a knot in her throat. She remembered Trey resting on his side, his beautiful amber-tinted irises hidden behind closed lids, a sprinkling of dark shadow lining his jaw. He’d seemed so different then, unable to defend himself, trapped in a cage like a damn animal.

The sight had angered and terrified her. The man was more than capable of taking care of himself but he’d gotten himself into trouble. Captured by Shepherds—religious zealots determined to destroy shifters one by one—there would have been no happy ending. They’d have broken him down, using every weapon in their arsenal, before they snuffed him from existence.

No way. She hadn’t been able to let that happen.

One bite had sealed their fates.

In saving his life, she’d sacrificed her own.

Even now she could taste his blood, feel her pussy clasp in response, her weakened body tingling in multiple wicked places. The first swallow had been the best, cascading down her throat like ambrosia, so good she knew she’d never find its equal. His being a shifter had meant she’d started healing immediately, despite the severity of her wounds. But that hadn’t been her focus. Instead she’d fought off an orgasm unlike any other, mortified at the thought of using him, of taking more than he was willing to give.

It was bad enough to take his life’s blood without consent.

A whimper seeped past her lips and she dropped to her knees. She focused on the memory, not the pain. This was all that was left—the past. Memories of what she wanted but would never have. Death didn’t frighten her. In fact, the thought of passing into the next realm brought a strange sense of calm.