She edged down the alley, her heart growing heavier with every step as she reloaded her crossbow. She'd lost a friend tonight, and now it was time for her to return to the stronghold where she would be locked away once more and married to Logan.
Kara tilted her head back to stare at the night sky. She'd seen it every night from the stronghold, but this was the first time she'd seen it outside of the stronghold walls. This was her last night of freedom, the only night of freedom she'd ever experienced. She didn't realize she was crying until the first drop of chilly water fell onto her hand.
Startled, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. What was the matter with her? She'd always resented her lot in life, and always wanted more freedom, but a part of her also accepted what was to be. Now the idea of returning to the stronghold and being married was more than she could stand.
Taking a deep breath, she started walking again. Her lot in life didn't matter; it was far better than no life. Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she recalled Jayce's body at the end of the alley. She had to get to him and return home; she had no other choice.
She didn't know much about this human world. However, the little she'd seen of it, and the vast quantity of reading she'd done about it, fascinated her. The humans were a weaker species, but they were brilliant and creative. Over the years, she'd spent countless hours studying the paintings and numerous pieces of art they had in the stronghold. It amazed her that she found some new detail amongst those canvases and sculptures every time she looked at them.
She'd read all the thousands of books in the library of the stronghold, some of them so many times she'd memorized them. Her favorites had always been mysteries and detective novels, especially Sherlock Holmes.
She would give anything to visit all the many places she'd read about and seen pictures of, but she would never be able to do any of those things once she returned to the stronghold. However, she couldn't stay out here.
Her brother would be looking for her soon. Nathan was probably just recalling that he'd left her behind to pursue the monster who had killed their father. He would go crazy if she didn't return. And she might go crazy if she did.
But where could she go? What could she do?
Nothing. There was nothing she could do. She had no ID, no birth certificate, no money, nothing she could use to help her navigate the human world. She was schooled in the arts, science, math, history, and other things. She may never use her education, but the hunters believed everyone should be taught. Some of the males were sent out to become pilots, doctors, nurses, plumbers, electricians, and numerous other things that would benefit their society before returning to the stronghold.
She had no real training unless the job included self-defense techniques, cooking, and being a good wife and mother. She was faster and stronger than humans, a good fighter, and a passable cook, but she'd failed on epic levels at being a good wife and mother during her schooling.
She'd spent twenty of her twenty-three years trying to learn how to sew, and she still couldn't do it. Though, she suspected her instructor, Mrs. Cranon, was right and she'd chosen not to learn the technique. No matter how good it felt to stab things sometimes, she hated sewing.
In the end, she had no skills that would help her survive in the human world, a world she knew so little about other than what she'd seen on TV and read in her books. Even her glimpses of the humans on TV had been rare as there were few TVs in the stronghold, and the women were often kept away from them.
Even if she could somehow survive out here on her own, it didn't matter; she had to return for Jayce's body, and she couldn't leave Nathan to worry about her.
Resigned anew to her lot in life, Kara took a deep breath and continued forward. She was almost to the back door of the club when the garbage stench of the alley rose a little and a shadow moved forward, blocking the way. She froze when she recognized Joseph standing before her.
How had he gotten away and back here? She had no answer to that question, but it didn't matter. He was here.
Kara took a step back as his red eyes ran leeringly over her body. The faint stench of decay emanating from him was enough to make her gag. At one time, he may have been good-looking with his golden-brown hair and narrow features. Now she saw nothing but a twisted creature.
"I came back for you, beautiful," he purred.
Her hand gripped the crossbow tighter, but she had a feeling she wouldn't get the chance to hit him with a bolt again, not now that he was prepared for it. She itched to rip his heart out with her bare hands to avenge her father's death, but her instincts screamed at her to run far and fast from there.
He took another step toward her. The dim illumination of the bulb over the club door revealed his blood-covered shirt, the bruises on his face, a jagged cut on his upper right thigh, and the hole from where her bolt had pierced him in his chest.
"So pretty." His insidious voice washed over her, chilling the marrow of her bones.
He moved suddenly and much faster than she'd anticipated with his injuries. She lifted the crossbow, aimed at his heart, and fired. The bolt sliced across his shirt and the front of his chest when he turned to the side to avoid taking a direct hit. His hand wrapped around her braid and he yanked her against him.
Lifting her hands to his chest, she shoved at him as she tried to pull herself free. His grip on her hair tightened until a sharp pain throbbed in her skull and some of the strands tore from her scalp. Giving up on trying to free herself, she squirmed against him and punched him in the stomach. Her blow against the solid wall of muscle in his abs had the same effect on him as a mouse beating on an elephant would have.
Twisting to the side, she tried to get her leg in between them to knee him in the crouch. He knocked her knee to the side and bile rushed up her throat when he rubbed his erection against her stomach. She clamped her teeth against vomiting on him as she put her fingers together and drove them at his eye.
He chuckled when he swatted her hand aside. "I love it when they fight," he murmured in her ear.
Turning, she finally managed to land a solid punch against the underside of his chin. The monster laughed and leaned back to survey her. "Do it again," he taunted, his face only inches from hers.
It hit her then that all her training in weapons and self-defense had been for nothing. Dummies didn't hit back or block her blows; they didn't laugh in her face when she gave them an uppercut, and they didn't have the strength of twenty men. The women had been taught how to defend themselves, but they'd never been prepared to actually do it against a vampire.
Managed to get her hand up again, her fingers hooked into claws that she raked down the side of his face. As the skin tore away, flesh dug beneath her fingernails and blood welled forth.
"Bitch!" he spat at her before slapping her across the face. Blood exploded into her mouth, a ringing sounded in her ears, and she was certain he'd knocked one of her teeth loose.
Clutching her hand, he twisted her arm behind her back. Agony tore through her shoulder and screamed up her back as he turned the joint a way it was never meant to go. "The power," he murmured against her ear. "I can smell it thrumming through your veins." He jabbed his erection against her again.
Her shoulder popped out of place when she twisted to the side. She cried out as he bent his head to run his revolting tongue across her ear. He propelled her back against the wall, his heavy body plastering her to the cold brick. White fangs glinted when he pulled back to reveal his lethal canines seconds before he struck.
The fire burned through her veins, her heart stuttered in her chest, and her breath froze in her lungs as pain ripped through her, rendering her helpless. Blurred stars filled her field of vision. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her life drained unwillingly from her in slurping gulps.