Blood Hunt Read Free

human doctor could do for him. “I need Logan.”
    His wife’s face paled as she realized what he meant to do. “You can’t. You can’t go in there.”
    “I don’t have a choice. I’ll die without his help. And he’ll die without mine.”
    “No,” whispered Pam. Tears flowed down her cheeks. “You can’t go in there. Please.”
    A wave of weakness shook Steve, telling him he was running out of time. “Go. Someplace public. Well lit. I need to know you and the baby are safe.”
    “I won’t leave you.”
    “There’s no time to argue. You’re going. But I won’t be long. Promise.” The vow settled over him, comforting him. He kissed her mouth, praying it wouldn’t be the last time. “Go, love. For our baby. Go.”
    She nodded. Sniffed.
    Steve gently pushed Pam away. She stared at him, her expression a mix of fear and love. “Don’t you dare die.”
    Steve hid his weakness the best that he could as he bent down and picked up a discarded section of two-by-four. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but he’d find a way to make it work.
    He’d promised to be quick, and he’d never once broken a promise to his sweet Pam.
     
    The color of suffering was a dark, sickly yellow, and Hope Serrien knew she’d see it on a night like tonight.
    A cold front had swept down over the city, slaying any hope that spring was coming soon. Power lines glistened with a layer of ice, and icicles dripped from street signs. The sidewalk under her feet was slick, but even that couldn’t keep her indoors tonight. A night like this brought death to those who had no place to escape the cold.
    And cold wasn’t the only enemy on the streets. There were things out here. Dark, evil things. People were going missing, and Hope feared they hadn’t simply moved on to warmer climes.
    Sister Olive was a middle-aged woman who ran the homeless shelter where Hope volunteered. She’d insisted that Hope stay indoors tonight, but the nun had never truly felt the frigid desperation of having no place to go. She’d always had a warm, safe place where she knew she belonged.
    Not everyone was so lucky.
    Hope shifted the canvas bag on her shoulder and walked faster. She always carried sandwiches and blankets in case she ran into those in need—those who refused to come to the shelter. With any luck, they’d all have better sense than to be stubborn on a night like this.
    She scanned the street, paying close attention to the dark crevices between buildings and inside recessed doorways. That glowing, yellow aura of suffering was not hard to miss.
    Or maybe Hope had just had a lot of practice at spotting it.
    If Sister Olive knew how Hope found people in need—if she knew Hope could see auras—the nun would probably have her committed. Good thing that wasn’t something that came up in normal conversation. Hope wasn’t sure she could lie to a nun.
    A flicker of unease made Hope pull her coat closed more tightly around her neck. She’d seen things at night—things she knew couldn’t be real. Dark, monstrous things that slinked between shadows, hiding from sight. Their auras were black. Silent. She couldn’t read them, which made her question whether the monsters even truly existed outside her imagination.
    She probably should have brought one of the men along with her to ward off any problems. But how would she explain to her escort how she knew where to go? It was better to do this alone and keep her secrets. Fitting in among normal people was hard enough when she didn’t draw attention to her ability.
    Hope forced herself to head toward the one place she hadn’t yet searched for those missing souls. She hated getting near the run-down Tyler building—it brought up too much pain and confusion, too many bad memories. She’d promised herself that tonight she’d put her ridiculous fears aside and look for her friends there.
    The three-story brick structure rose up into the night sky. The lighting here hadn’t been maintained, leaving deep pools