The Vampire Hunter. Michele Hauf

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leader swung around with a punch that Kaz stopped with his open palm. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kaz. Vampire hunter. I’ll be ashing you this evening.”

      “Wiseass,” the vampire cracked.

      Kaz gripped the miscreant’s fist, twisted, and with a swing from the waist, rocketed up a high sidekick to his jaw. The heavy boots delivered damage by breaking jawbone. The attacker dropped, growling and spitting blood. The other two charged him with fists. Kaz immediately dropped the one on the left with a wince-inducing gut punch.

      A female scream alerted him. A woman clung to the limestone wall not thirty feet from their little soiree.

      “Get out of here!” he yelled at her, and caught a punch across the jaw. He tasted his own blood, and shook his head to chase away the bluebirds spinning about his skull. That one could have led to his death had it been a knockout.

      Enough play. Best to stake them before they beat him to a pulp. But—hell, not in front of an innocent.

      Frozen in fear, the woman watched their antics with wide eyes. Chills scurried up Kaz’s spine. He delivered another kick and landed a vamp at the hip, sending it stumbling backward. He had to keep the vampires busy and away from her until she grasped her senses and ran. Only then could he ash these idiots.

      Out the corner of his eye, Kaz alternated his attention between fight and female. Was she scared—or interested? She leaned forward from her position against the wall, her bright eyes following the action. A vampire charged him; he landed a kick to a particularly vulnerable part of its anatomy, bringing it down.

      Licking her lips, the woman seemed to marvel over the show.

      “Go!” Kaz shouted at her, but too late he realized the command had alerted one of the vampires to their audience.

      He swung a fist at an attacking vamp and took him out cleanly. The other vampire raced toward the woman and pinned her to the wall by her wrists. She didn’t scream. That was good and bad. A scream would call attention to this altercation and alert other innocents.

      But why didn’t she scream?

      Must be scared voiceless.

      Wishing he could stake the attacker from behind, Kaz left the stake clipped at his hip. He ran toward the vamp, grabbed him by the head and shoulder and peeled him away from the woman.

      “Wow,” he thought he heard her say, as he landed on his back on the cobbles, bringing the vamp down with him.

      Twisting to straddle the vamp, Kaz punched him repeatedly until the longtooth’s lights went out, his hand sprawling across the toe of the woman’s lace-up boot.

      Springing up to stand in the center of the fallen vamps, Kaz looked over his mayhem. Fists still coiled at his sides, brows drawn and serious, he was ready for another four, or even a whole gang.

      But the vampires were only out, not dead. They wouldn’t stay down long. He had to get rid of the girl.

      Lifting her chin, the woman looked up at Kaz with wide and wondering eyes. He had rescued her from a bite, surely. But the less she knew, the better. And if he could contain this slaying then he wouldn’t have to call in Tor to do spin.

      “Impressive.” She stepped over the sprawled vampire and slowly approached him. Strangely, she clapped, giving him due reward. “Like a knight who fights for his mistress’s favor.”

      Kaz arched a brow. He was a knight. But he couldn’t tell her that. Why hadn’t she screamed and run? That was the normal MO for unknowing humans who stumbled onto a slaying.

      Something wrong with this chick?

      As he looked her over, he took a long stroll over her black hair, streaked on one side with white. Her heart-shaped face was shadowed by the night. A soft gray blouse rippled with her movements, hugging a narrow figure. Black, high-waisted slacks emphasized long legs that ended in heeled boots. Sexy, in a business kind of way. If her lips hadn’t been thick and plush and so pink, Kaz would have marked her off as just another accountant or pencil pusher.

      But that mouth. All pink and partly open and—he swallowed—kissable. That mouth distracted him.

      “Generally,” she said, unaware of his distraction, “when the knight defeats the bad guys, his mistress grants him a favor, such as a ribbon or piece of her clothing for him to proudly display.”

      He rubbed his jaw and chuckled softly. “I’m not much for ribbons.” But the moment jumped on him like a blood-hungry vampire and he went with the next move. “Guess that means I’ll have to take something more fitting.”

      Kaz wrapped his hand about her neck and curved his fingers against her silken hair as he bent to kiss her distracting mouth there, in the mysterious shadows of a city he would never feel comfortable calling home. About them, the vampires showed no sign of coming to, yet he remained aware.

      Two magnets, he thought, as their lips crushed, compelled to one another. Soft and wanting. The burn of her mouth against his flamed his tongue with the sweetest fire. The connection gushed through his veins and swirled in and out of his being. Made him feel alive, more so than even battling vamps did.

      As well, this kiss claimed a certain void within him that suddenly breathed in, wanting to capture it all. To experience it all.

      Really? Why had he suddenly started thinking like some kind of romance hero? It was just a kiss. He’d kissed lots of women. He’d admired many a pretty mouth, had shared breath with— Hell.

      He’d never kissed a woman who felt quite so...right.

      She wobbled on her tiptoes, and Kaz gripped her shoulder to steady her. And when he pulled from the kiss to dart a look back and forth between her blue eyes, he suddenly knew. He had never sensed such immediate connection before. Destined? No, he wasn’t tumbling completely over the edge. But there were no coincidences in this world. People didn’t just stumble into another person’s life randomly. He’d believed that since the night Tor had found him behind Madame du Monde’s.

      Everything happened for a reason.

      She fluttered her lashes and looked aside. “Nice.”

      Nice? It had been more than nice. That kiss had been...transcendent. Yet maybe she was too shy to wax as poetically as his brain was right now. No, not shy, but flustered. Her cheeks had pinkened and her lashes fluttered as she tapped her mouth. Kaz liked that he’d disturbed her with a kiss.

      “Once more?” he asked on an aching tone.

      This time when she tilted up her face to meet him, he hooked his thumb along her jaw, his fingers spreading over her cheek. His calloused fingertips touched a raised line of skin. Felt like a scar. She didn’t flinch. Perhaps it was merely makeup or his rough fingers.

      She moaned into the kiss and wrapped both hands about his waist beneath the long leather coat he wore. A greedy touch that he felt honored to receive. She wasn’t like any other woman who had selfishly clung and groped at him while seeking to satisfy her desires. Kaz pulled her tight against his body. This woman fit there as no other woman had fit before. She felt right. Felt different.

      Felt dangerous.

      Right, man. Don’t forget: vampires surround you. Get

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