A Hunger Like No Other Read Free

looked surprised. “Because you doona want me to stop? Good. I’ll take you here on the grass on your hands and knees”—he lifted her easily until she was kneeling—“till well after the sun rises.”
    He must have seen her resignation because he hauled her to her feet and pushed at her to get her moving. “Who stays with you?”
    My husband , she wanted to snap. The linebacker who’s going to kick your ass . Yet she couldn’t lie, even now, and never would have had the nerve to provoke him anyway. “I am alone.”
    “Your man lets you travel by yourself?” he asked over the downpour. His voice was beginning to sound human again. When she didn’t answer, he said with a sneer, “You’ve a careless male for yourself. His loss.”
    She stumbled in a pothole and he gently steadied her, then seemed angry with himself that he’d helped her. But when he led them in front of a car a moment later, he threw her out of the way, leaping back at the sound of the horn.
    He swiped at the side of the car, claws crumpling the metal like tinfoil, sending it skidding. When it finally stopped, the engine block dropped to the street with a thud. The driver threw open the door, dived for the street, then darted away.
    Mouth open in shock, she frantically scrambled backward, realizing her captor looked as though he’d… never seen a car .
    He crossed to her, looming over her. In a low, deadly tone, he grated, “I only hope you run from me again.”
    He snatched her hand and again lifted her to her feet. “How much farther?”
    With a limp finger, she pointed out the Crillon on Place de la Concorde.
    He gave her a look of pure hatred. “Your kind always had money.” His tone was scathing. “Nothing’s changed.”
    He knew she was a vampire. Did he know who or what her aunts were? He must—otherwise how could Regin have known to warn her about him? How could he know her coven was well-off?
    After ten minutes of her being dragged across avenues, they pushed past the doorman of the hotel, garnering stares as they entered the palatial lobby. At least the lights were dimmed. She pulled her soaked jacket over her ruined blouse and kept her head down, thankful that she’d braided her hair over her ears.
    He released the vise-grip on her arm in front of these people. He must know that she wouldn’t attract attention.
    Never scream, never draw the attention of humans . They were always more dangerous in the end than any of the thousands of creatures of the Lore.
    When he draped his heavy arm across her shoulders as if they were together, she glanced up at him from under a wet lock of hair. Though he walked with his broad shoulders back, like he owned this place, he was examining everything as if it was new to him. The phone ringing made him tense. The revolving doors had done the same.
    Though he hid it well, she could tell he was unfamiliar with the elevator and hesitated to enter. Inside the lift, his size and his energy made the generous space seem cramped.
    The short walk down the hall to her room was the longest of her life, as she devised and rejected plan after plan of escape. She hesitated outside the door, taking her time retrieving the key card from the inch-deep puddle in the bottom of her purse.
    “Key,” he demanded.
    With a deep exhalation, she handed it to him. When his eyes narrowed, she thought he was about to demand “key”
    again, but he studied the door lever and gave it back to her. “You do it.”
    With a shaking hand, she slid it in. The mechanized buzz and then the click of the lock were like knells to her.
    Once inside her room, he checked every inch of it as though to make sure she was in fact alone. He searched under the brocade-covered bed, then tore back the heavy silk drapes to reveal one of the best views in Paris. He moved like an animal, with aggression at every turn, though she’d noticed he favored one leg.
    When he slowly limped to her in the hallway, her eyes widened and she eased