Hunting Ground [Claiming Series, #3]

-2-

Asher pulled a bag of blood out of the refrigerator in his office and passed it to Kane. He also put out a glass in case Kane didn't want to drink from the bag.

Kane looked at the glass, remembering the times he had drunk from fine crystal goblets. Times spent with Violet.

"What's the story?" Asher asked.

"I told you."

"No, I meant with you. Vengeance didn't help you?"

"It rid me of the anger."

"But not the rest of it." Asher settled on a chair behind his desk, facing Kane across it. Kane finally seated himself and bit the bag open. He hesitated, then decided not to use a glass, not to remind himself of Violet through such a simple thing. He drained the bag flat in seconds then passed it back to Asher, who tossed it into a biohazard container.

They faced each other across the desk, Asher clearly waiting, Kane reluctant to speak. Yet he couldn't blame Asher for his curiosity. Few enough vampires emerge on the other side of claiming, and he must certainly have been curious about it.

"The world is still bleak," he said finally. "I may ask you for mercy."

Asher lifted one brow. "I hope you don't."

"It would be your obligation." It was one obligation all vampires respected: if one of their kind could take this life no longer, a request for mercy—death—was always honored.

"Don't ask it of me," Asher said. "I need you."

"For this fight?" Kane sounded almost scornful. "I don't care anymore, Asher. I gave you the warning because I felt I owed it to you. If vampires want to destroy each other, why should I care?"

"You used to care. And maybe your problem right now is that you're not allowing yourself to care about anything. You're wallowing, Kane."

The rage that flashed through Kane just then almost made him leap across the desk and attack Asher. He gripped the arms of his chair until his fingers buried themselves in the leather and then the padding beneath. "How would you know what I am going through?" The words emerged from between his clenched teeth.

"You're right, I don't know," Asher replied calmly. "But I know what you used to be. What I see before me now is a man who won't let go."

"I can't let go."

"Perhaps not." Asher sighed. "If you want to die, at least die doing something important. Don't make it pointless by asking me to break your neck."

The tension between them nearly made the air sizzle. But then Kane released his anger, acknowledging that it was misdirected. Asher wasn't his problem. An interrupted claiming was his problem. Weariness was his problem.

"I'll think about it."

"Thank you." Asher leaned forward and drummed his fingers on the desktop. "I should probably just take Julie and run. If there's going to be a bloodbath, she's my first concern."

"It would be the wise thing, but I've noted you often avoid the easiest course."

Asher flashed a brief smile. "It looks that way."

Kane shook his head. "Oh, you always have a reason for what you do, mon ami. Battling demons, fighting your own kind. Most would call that insane."

"I call it necessary."

"Which is exactly why you won't flee." Kane released his grip on the chair arms and crossed his legs. "And you have a problem now in your office."