Page 1 of On the Run with His Vampire Mate

PROLOGUE || QUINN

What woke me up was the scent of human blood, so near that I could almost taste it, that I could almost imagine the way it would feel—hot, rich, and wonderful—as it gushed down my parched throat, soothing my hunger.

Strong arms cradled me around my shoulders and behind my knees. A pulse beat beneath the warm touch of my would-be captor. Mortal, then. But the smell was all wrong. Not human at all.

I launched myself out of his arms and twisted in midair, my body responding to my will with almost no effort at all. I found myself behind a muscular sandy-haired man with a rough-hewn face and deep, piercing blue eyes.

Startled, he tried to turn in my direction, but he was far too slow. I grabbed him by both shoulders and slammed him into the concrete wall. It was hard enough that if he’d been human, I would’ve killed him. Unfortunately, he was more than human. All it did was stun him for an instant.

I turned to face the real threat. A tall and lanky golden-haired vampire with pale skin and eyes so blue they were practically neon. He was wearing, of all things, a two-piece burgundy velvet suit. Some strange instinct—one I hadn’t possessed while mortal—whispered to me to be wary. He was old. And dangerous.

“Not again!” I spat, my eyes locked on him in fury. I backed away until my back touched the wall behind me. He’d already hurt me once before.

And he was blocking my escape.

I was in a short hallway, standing on a slight incline. The differences in air pressure told me I was somewhere underground. But not far underground. A basement or something? My brain filed that away, even as I assessed the threat.

I didn’t understand it, though. He was exactly like me. He understood my thirst, didn’t he? Surely he wouldn’t begrudge me a taste. Perhaps he’d brought me here to tell me to stop being careless with my kills.

It wasn’t careless if I turned them all after I was done, was it? I was making more, following the instructions I’d been given. There could be no harm in that, could there?

Why was he doing this? He and the silly stronger-than-human mortal who’d been carrying me had put me into a vehicle, taking me away from the task I’d been given. To feed. To turn everyone. These two had taken me captive. But that made no sense.

After all, we should be feasting on that delicious scent together. It wasn’t far away. A hundred feet, perhaps less. It was coming from around the corner up ahead, at the far end of the hallway.

I felt no fear at all of my situation. Wariness, yes. But no actual terror, despite having been kidnapped and harmed by this dangerous vampire already.

One of the marvels of my new condition was that every doubt, every anxiety, every pain—it had all gone quiet inside of me. It had died at the same time my mortal body had. When I had taken my first life, immediately after waking, the guilt I should have felt—the horror and disbelief—was only there for a moment. And then it, too, died.

The only things that mattered now were the things I wanted.

And, of course, the things I had been instructed to do. My survival depended on fulfilling my duties.

Though I no longer needed to breathe, I’d just expended oxygen to speak. I drew in another breath to tell the vampire to stay away from me. It was the rational thing to do.

But the scent of human blood—more delicious and intoxicating than anything I’d ever experienced before—was even stronger, now that I was directly inhaling it.

I sniffed the air again.

It burned in my throat. Drove all reason from my mind.

Everything—tactics, instructions, danger—all of it was stripped from my mind.

The only thing that mattered was finding the human who’d produced that scent. And tearing into him—somehow I knew it was a him—before anyone could stop me.

The golden-haired vampire saw the change in me. It was clear from the horrified expression on his face. Before he could move to stop me, I tore past him, tilting my body forward so I’d slip under his arms if he tried to grab me.

Time slowed to a crawl. Or, at least, that’s what it seemed like. Somehow, whenever I sped up, my movements a blinding blur, reality seemed to slow around me in equal measure. The vampire hardly even moved before I was safely past him and down the hall.

I rounded the corner a split second later, following the scent further down the hall, to an open door.

My lips curved into a triumphant smile. A handsome dark-haired man with a five o’clock shadow was lying on a dumpy couch. He was passed out. He didn’t react as I entered the room. I noted that he was probably older than me, though barely—maybe twenty-five—but he smelled strongly of whiskey. But even that couldn’t drown out the far more intoxicating scent of his skin. Of the blood pumping beneath it.

My fangs dropped. I could afford just this one moment of fierce predatory satisfaction, couldn’t I?

He was mine. If I acted quickly enough, they couldn’t stop me. Not even the golden-haired vampire.

I breathed in deeply, savoring the moment.