Page 66 of Bloodhunter

I knew I never would.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The huge house was mostly silent, though I heard a vacuumcleaner somewhere in the distance, sucking up the debris left behind by a dozenkids.

Clayton sat tall and silent at the large table, and after Ipoured myself a huge mug of coffee and grabbed a package of cookies, I joinedhim. The house possessed a large, formal dining room, but nearly everyone inthe house preferred the kitchen and the battered old wood table to the diningroom. That particular room was utilized for large Thanksgiving and other familydinners, when the children’s mothers and extended relatives descended upon thehouse.

“Angus says you have new information about the attacker,” Isaid.

“Yes,” Clayton responded, when I sat down. “I do.”

At last, I looked at him. I tried to keep my emotions out ofmy face but was pretty sure I was unsuccessful when he studied me for a fewseconds, then gave a small sigh.

A light in his eyes seemed to flicker like a sputteringcandle flame, and then it was extinguished, leaving only a dull emptinessbehind.

Maybe I’d been the only person who’d ever been in hiscorner—at least since he’d been brought back. Maybe I’d been the only personnot to look at him with contempt. Maybe I’d been the only person who looked athim the way a woman looks at a man.

And maybe he was sad to see that go.

I couldn’t feel bad about that. Icouldn’t.

But fuck me if I didn’t.

Peppered in with the judgment were the memories of how he’dtouched me, how his lips had felt against mine, how his voice had sounded whenhe’d whispered my name.

God.God.

“What did you find out?” I asked, my voice a little hoarse.I dropped my gaze, unable to think clearly when the remembered heat of him wasfierce enough to burn me.

“Trinity,” he said, quietly. “Someday I’ll—”

I shook my head hard to dislodge the images. “What, Clayton?What will you do? Convince me that torturing a man in front of his daughterdoesn’t make you a monster? I don’t want to hear it.” I sat back and crossed myarms. “Just tell me what you found out about the demon. He’s the only asshole Iwant to think about right now.”

He inclined his head. “He’s definitely an incubus.” Heslipped his hand into his suit jacket and emerged with a folded piece of paper.“The name he uses is Seth Damon. We traced him back sixty years. Back then, hedidn’t kill his victims. He took what he needed and left them alive, as mostincubi do. The victims would have thought they had the flu for a week or two afterward.This drawing came from one of his later victims—he nearly killed her but sheescaped with the help of her boyfriend.”

“I glimpsed his face.” I stared down at the drawing. In thepicture he looked…human. Surprisingly normal. Handsome, with intense eyes andshort, dark hair. The face I’d barely seen had been…terrible.

“That’s his façade,” Clayton said. “Some humans believevampires can’t be photographed, but they can.Demonscan’t bephotographed. At full power, he could change his façade to look like anyone hewanted. If he’s sick, he’ll stick to the easiest disguise, which is the oneyou’re holding now. And it’s beginning to crack.”

“That’s why he wears the hood,” I said. “To hide his face.”

He nodded. “He no longer has the energy to maintain it. Atleast not all the time.” He took back the drawing, then continued. “If we don’tfind him before the humans discover the foam, there will be trouble. He’s notgoing to leave Red Valley.”

“Because of me.”

“Yes. And because his time is running out. I think this ishis last stand.”

We stared at each other in silence. I didn’t see worry ordoubt in his eyes, but I knew mine would be full of both. Clayton believed heand the others could really help me defend myself against a hungry, desperatedemon.

I wasn’t so sure.

“Some time ago,” Clayton said, “he came and never left. Idon’t think that was his choice. I think he’s stuck here, and in order to gohome, he has to generate a huge amount of energy.”

I nodded. “Energy from a hunter.”

“No. Energy from abloodhunter.”

“And because we’re so rare…”