Hunting Ground [Claiming Series, #3]

- 4 -

Kane waited for Tessa outside the university building where she worked. Mackenzie had managed to get the information from her, and while he didn't exactly want to be here, he knew no one else could promise Tessa any kind of safety.

He smelled the approach of snow on the air and suspected that before the night was over, a white blanket would cover the city. It mattered to him not one way or the way, for he felt neither cold nor heat, but it might slow the rogues down a bit. It would be real hard for them not to leave trails that even human eyes could read once it snowed.

He had donned clothing unfamiliar to him: a parka, rather than the leather he preferred because it could stand up to the treatment he gave it, and jeans—the human preference for which he could not begin to understand. He hoped to blend in as he stood here waiting.

Already the city was on heightened alert because of the four murders last night, all of them grotesque, savage enough to hide any evidence vampires were involved. He didn't want to appear out of place at all. Not now, not when he was here to protect Tessa. Another time it would have made no difference to him, but tonight he could not take to the rooftops or vanish swiftly and without warning, not unless he wanted to terrorize Tessa more than she already had been.

He saw her emerge from the building, wrapped in a long coat with a knit scarf around her neck and a knit cap on her unusual hair.

He forced himself to walk at a human pace toward her.

"Good evening," he called, so his appearance wouldn't startle her.

She turned to look at him, and those amazing eyes of hers widened then narrowed. "Mackenzie told you," she said.

"But of course. I said I would protect you."

She looked as if she desperately wanted to argue but though better of it. She glanced around at the darkness held at bay only by the walkway lamps around the campus and then back at him. Truly a choice of evils. The thought amused him.

"We will walk," he said and stepped toward her, offering his arm. It was an old habit, but he wasn't at all surprised when she visibly hesitated. Finally, she took his arm reluctantly.

"We can take the campus bus."

"Perhaps you can. I cannot."

"Why not?"

"How much torture do you expect me to subject myself to?"

"Torture? Oh."

He watched the understanding dawn on her face and enjoyed it. Damned if he was going to pretend to be something other than what he was. As Mackenzie would have said, she could "like it or lump it."

Then she startled him by asking, "What do you live for?"

It had been a very long time since a question had set him back on his heels. They continued to wend their way through the campus, heading toward public streets that he knew to be lined with apartment frequented by students.

Prime hunting grounding, because youth made many students relatively fearless, and they came and went at all hours of the night to visit one another or get something to eat.

"What do I live for?" he repeated, even as he began scoping the vicinity with an eye to see how easy or difficult it would be to hunt. "Why should you care?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

"What do you live for?"

Satisfaction filled him when she didn't answer. It wasn't a question easily answered by anyone, and certainly it was not the kind he cared to discuss with a virtual stranger. Even a stranger who smelled like ambrosia and awakened his every instinct to take her, drink from her and come to know her in that intimate, exquisite place only vampires and their lovers could go.