Page 42 of Snow

She swallows hard. She is trembling. But she eats. She tears off a chunk and swallows it down.

In turn, he makes each of them do the same.

Then he turns to me. “Do you want a taste, seer?”

I shake my head, even though something deep inside me is tempted. To take the ultimate control back from the woman who tried to take my sanity.

“Hunter?” he asks Kim.

Kim’s face is gray around the edges. He swallows hard. He pushes his glasses up his nose. But then he steps forward and opens his hand. “Give it to me.”

My eyes widen. “Kim, think carefully before you…”

“Give it to me,” he repeats.

Thornfield puts the heart into Kim’s hand. There is barely any left. He raises it to his lips.

What the fuck has gotten into him? A human eating a vampire’s heart? Is he trying to prove himself? Trying to lean into his identity instead of shy away from it? There are other ways…

I flinch as he sinks in his teeth. They are not pointed, not designed for tearing through raw muscle. It takes effort for him to pull free a chunk. He swallows it whole, his eyes wide, staring at Thornfield as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Holy fuck.

His eyes darken.

This demon hunter is not who I thought he was. He’s not who he thought he was.

“Tastes like steak,” he says. Then he turns to look at the other vampires, and suddenly I get it. He’s proving himself to them. He wants his reputation to get around. He wants the demons of the city to know he’s a bad ass mother fucker.

Well, respect to him.

He certainly earned it.

Thornfield steps through the carnage, pushes past the others, and disappears into the tunnels. Kim lingers for a moment, then tosses what’s left of Zephyra’s heart to the floor and follows Thornfield.

“If I were you, I’d leave this city,” I say darkly, standing in the doorway and turning back to the vampires left inside. “Thornfield won’t forget who you are or who you pledged your allegiance to. I’d run now, while you have the chance.”

18

SAM

Under the dim lights of the museum corridor, I’m pacing back and forth outside Mack’s room like a spare part. I slipped out while they were still discussing the scepter. And no one noticed.

I’ve been sitting, knees tucked up under my chin, trying to stop my thoughts from spiralling, ever since. When I hear Mack scream, I look up. I want to stand, dart to the door, help somehow.

But what use would I be?

I plug my hands over my ears and try to block it out. The elixir was working, and now it’s clearly not, and that means we’re back to the possibility that we might lose Mack and Snow altogether.

“Then hurry!” Nova yells, her voice carrying through the walls.

The door swings back, and Miranda rushes out. At first, her expression is panicked, but then she stops, glances back, and brushes down her skirt. She straightens her blouse, and tilts her head from side to side.

I study her closely.

I’ve always felt a little uneasy around her, but suddenly there is something else setting the hairs at the base of my skull on edge.

Slowly, she saunters down the hall as if she’s in no rush at all. I look back at the door. I can hear Mack writhing in pain, and Nova crying, and Snow growling.