Page 22 of Wicked Ways

Even a wounded vampire was a damn fast vampire. And a very, very dangerous prey to stalk.

Time to take over.

Cain leapt from the tree, landing lightly on his feet. He’d worked with Santiago more than a few times in the past, and the other man knew his secret. A select few in the Bureau did, and those men had sworn to carry the truth of his nature to the grave.

They’d used him on cases. Ruthlessly. Sometimes it took the devil to bring down the worst killers. Especially when those killers couldn’t be stopped by normal means.

But they’d given their word to keep the truth of his nature quiet, and they all knew that if they betrayed him, they’d have to face the beast.

He advanced quickly on Santiago, covering the ground easily. The guy had never been too fast on the trigger in the past, but Cain didn’t want to take any chances. He growled low, then let out the series of grunts he knew the human would recognize.

Santiago had whirled at the first growl, but Cain saw his shoulders relax the faintest bit. Then the agent nodded and lowered his weapon.

Cain sprang past him, the thrill of the hunt making him salivate at the prospect of catching the vamp’s throat between his teeth. The ground disappeared beneath his feet in a blur. The odor of blood tickled his nose, the scent growing stronger, and his whiskers twitched.

The land here wasn’t suited to man. The thick brush of the woods would soon give way to the swamp and marsh. The vampire would have a hell of a time finding his way out of the swamp, even with his enhanced vision and smell.

There was a shift in the wind up ahead. The faintest of moves in the distance that had Cain freezing in mid-crouch.

The vampire was turning. Cain waited a moment, understanding. The bastard was circling back, probably realizing his mistake in fleeing toward the swamp.

Oh, but he would catch him. Cain knew his black fur was perfectly camouflaged by the night. His movements were so careful that the vampire wouldn’t be able to hear him until it was too late.

Such was the fate of all his prey.

The vampire would regret coming back for another attack.

Cain crept forward, head low, back arching. There. To the left, in that thicket, he knew the bastard was waiting.

His muscles tensed. Cain launched forward, claws out, jaw open.

And found the vampire waiting with a gun.

Dammit. Apparently, the bastard was smarter than most of his brethren. And prepared for him.

The vamp fired just as Cain jerked away. The bullet blasted across his side, leaving a trail of fire burning into his flesh.

Not silver, luckily. Though the myths said silver only worked on the wolves, the true fact was that silver could poison most shifters. A fact the vampire bastard apparently didn’t know.

Cain bounded across the bushes, hurrying for cover. The blazing pain combined with his rage, and a snarl burst from his mouth before he could control it.

The vampire fired his weapon. Once. Twice. Again. Again. Cain dove into a large bush just as one of the bullets grazed his shoulder.

Heavy footfalls. The vampire running again. Fast.

Cain threw back his head. His mouth opened wide as he let out the rumbling roar of his kind.

No mercy.

His wounds would heal fast. No bullets had lodged in him. The skin and muscles would mend. And the vampire would pay.

Cain sucked in a deep breath, trying to shake off the pain that weighed him down. There was no time for weakness. The asshole was heading back toward the two houses.

Going back toward Miranda. Fuck.

He snarled. Raced forward. The vampire didn’t get it. He was a jaguar shifter, and there were few things on this earth faster than he was. He’d take the vamp down, and a few bullets sure as hell wouldn’t stop him.

Chapter Five