Night of the Huntress by Kathryn Smith

Author:Kathryn Smith [Kathryn Smith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780061750823
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2007-08-26T04:00:00+00:00

It hadn’t been dark long when Bishop arrived the next night in their camp near Brasov. They were just a few kilometers west of the village Andrei had told them about.

And even though Marika trusted him, a little voice in the back of her mind had questioned whether he would come to help her. She even went so far as to fantasize about returning to Fagaras after this was over—after miraculously defeating the vampires, of course—and finding him long gone.

The thought of having him gone from her life was worse than the thought of dying at the hands of a vampire.

At one time she thought becoming a vampire was the worst thing that could happen to her, but as she watched Bishop approach her, the light of their camp illuminating the sharp, masculine structure of his face, Marika realized that wasn’t true.

Losing Bishop would be the worst thing. He had taught her much, and there were still so many more things she could learn. Most importantly he had taught her that not everyone who seemed a monster actually was one.

She rose to her feet as he moved toward her, all fluid grace and sensuality. He was dressed in black, blending seamlessly with the night. His skin shone golden, his eyes bright swirls of green and gold. His hair shone with russet highlights. He was, in her mind, masculine perfection.

She wanted to throw herself into his arms, wrap her legs around his waist and bury her face in his neck. She wanted—oh, God, how she wanted—to pierce him with her fangs and taste the salty warmth of him. It was an act she associated solely with vampires and it should disgust her.

But it didn’t; even though she knew what it would do to her, it didn’t disgust or frighten her half so much as it should have.

Perhaps Bishop was right. Perhaps she was less human than she wanted to believe. Perhaps the vampire side of her nature was the stronger. It was a revelation that didn’t bother her as much as it once would have, and for that reason alone, she resolved to think upon it no longer.

“You came.”

He stood before her, loose limbed and at ease. Beneath the smells of the night—forest, dirt, burning wood and restless horse—was the scent of him. It was that spicy sweetness that made her think of warm cinnamon, nutmeg or cloves.

“I told you I would.” He offered her a smile, his eyes reflecting the flames of the fire. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Despite the danger they might encounter, she smiled. “Like what?”

“Like you want very much to take a bite out of me.”

“Maybe I do.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest. “I know just the spot.”

“Marika!” It was Dimitru who broke the spell. “We go. Now!”

Sighing, Marika smiled ruefully at Bishop. “Ready?”

“Lead on.”

They joined her men and prepared to break camp. Within minutes they were riding toward the next village.

Based on what Andrei had told them—and other accounts they had gleaned during the day—they were fairly certain the vampires would attack again tonight.

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