RED NIGHT ~ VAMPIRE FILES TRILOGY (Book 1)

9

In what seems like mere seconds, we stop and I'm placed on my feet and held steady by strong hands. Good thing, because the world is spinning and I can't focus my vision.

Slowly, objects settle into place and I realize I'm clutching Adam's arms as they hold me up. I look at him for a few seconds and then haul off and slap him so hard I want to cry. He doesn't stop me, and barely flinches. I expect to see a nasty red mark on his cheek, but there is none. That is seriously disappointing. My palm is still stinging, and my wrist is throbbing from the blow.

I look around and realize we're on the roof of a tall building. I grab his arms again because my head is spinning as I try to grasp how this could be. Did I pass out or something? How could we be on the street one minute and on the roof the next?

I let go, and step back when I realize I'm holding his arms again. "How did we get here?" My voice is shaky. I pull my collar up around my neck because the air is icy cold and the breeze is almost painful.

Looking at me he says, "I carried you here. It's important that you listen to what I'm about to tell you. I need to warn you—"

"How did we get up here so fast? Did you drug me?" I ask with growing disgust. I'm watching his eyes closely, trying desperately to figure out if he's a killer. My instincts tell me he isn't, but this would be a bad time to be wrong.

"You're in great danger, Samantha." He actually lowers his head a bit. "And I'm the reason you are now a target."

Does that mean he's going to kill me? He's going to kill me!

I start frantically looking around for an escape route, but I have no idea how we got up here in the first place. Talking my way out of this may be my only hope.

"How am I in danger, and by whom?" I ask.

That is a loaded question, and maybe I shouldn't be so direct. He moves closer and puts his hands on my arms. I flinch. He's in my space again. Why does he always do that?

"My name is Adam Blackwell. Don't bother searching, because the name died with the man many years go. I'm in this city hunting a killer. You've seen his handiwork in the news." He pauses. "I'm aware of the murder in your building. That was a warning to me," he says, giving it a moment to sink in.

He's talking in riddles. Crazy people do that sometimes.

"Who do you work for? Are you telling me you're FBI?" That would explain a few things if he isn't crazy. I'm leaning toward crazy.

"I don't work for an agency. I've been hunting this particular monster for a long time. I followed his trail here, and that is when our paths crossed." He hasn't taken his eyes off of me as though he's waiting for something.

"And why is this my problem?" I ask with as much anger as I can muster, but I think some of the wind has left my sails.

I hug myself, trying to stay warm. He notices, and takes his leather coat off, and places it on my shoulders. I'm instantly warmer. I want to throw it at him, but my teeth are about to start making noise, so I keep it.

"Somehow he has taken notice that I'm...interested in you."

"So now he wants to kill me? Because you are interested in me?"

"Yes."

"Then we need to go to the police. I know someone, and—"

"The police can't help you."

"What do you mean? It's their job. It's what they do." I'm swimming in his coat, but I put one hand on my hip in a show of frustration.

"He can't be stopped by guns, and a mere mortal would be no match for him. It would be a bloodbath. I don't think you want to be responsible for that."