Ripper (Hunter #1)(89)

And I smelled it. Death. It hung on him. He tried to cover it with colognes and soaps, but I could smell him rotting away on the inside.

Time sped back up, catching me almost unaware. His finger pulled back on the trigger. Instead of rolling away when he fired next, I dived low toward him. I hit the ground in a controlled slide and popped back up quickly before he could track me and get off another shot.

Thought fled and instinct took over. Like in the alley a few days before, I fought, the knowledge of how and where to hit flowing over me like a familiar wave. My foot kicked out, neatly catching him in the stomach. There was a huffing sound as all the air in his lungs was squeezed out and he staggered.

This time when he tried to fire, the gun simply clicked. Every predatory instinct I carried told me the fight was done. He couldn’t beat me with his bullets. Now it was my time and all that was left was the kill.

Hamilton knew it, too. Somewhere in his filled-with-crazy brain, a survival instinct seemed to be taking over. He gulped air and managed to stay on his feet.

“Dark Lord, please help me.” He backed away from me.

I was playing with him. Fear rolled off the professor, the smell almost eclipsing death. I liked the way his body jerked, as though his brain was so clouded with terror it had forgotten how to properly move. He should be afraid of me. I was going to kill him long before the tumor could.

Sharpe’s laughter rang out. “Oh, I would never mess with that one. Well, not in any sort of a fair fight, that is.”

“Kelsey!” Gray’s voice threatened to break my concentration. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered that he was running from the parking garage. His eyes were almost certainly on my blood-soaked arm.

I didn’t need him to protect me. The thought filled me with distaste. Maybe I should show him my power, prove my dominance.

I heard someone shouting in a foreign language. Italian it sounded like.

Ah, Marcus was here, too. Everyone had come to save poor little me. Sharpe responded and it seemed he knew Italian, too. I didn’t care. It was time to show them I did not require their services.

I reached out and grabbed Peter Hamilton by the throat. I moved so fast he couldn’t respond with anything but a tight gurgle. His neck felt nice in my hand. Warm flesh, but it covered blood and bone and I could take it all from him. Though I couldn’t get his entire throat in one hand, I got enough of it to feel his Adam’s apple begin to crush beneath the pressure I sweetly applied.

He was so vulnerable in that moment. In that moment, he was the prey and I the predator god who could set him free if I possessed an ounce of mercy.

I did not.

“Let him go, Kelsey.” Gray was next to me, his hand on my arm, trying to separate me from my rightful prey.

I shoved at him with my free hand and he went flying away from me. I heard his surprised curse as he landed yards from his starting position.

“Kelsey, please, honey, this isn’t you,” he practically begged as he got up again.

“Oh, but it is,” Sharpe replied.

“You shut up,” Gray commanded.

“I wouldn’t get close to her,” I heard Marcus say.

With one hand, I picked Peter Hamilton up and tossed him to the ground. He was the tiniest bit taller than I was. Horizontal was a better position to watch him as he died, and I so wanted to watch the man. He was every man who had ever done me wrong. Every bullshit con artist wanna be player who tried to smooth talk me or my brethren. Every * who’d thought they had the right to our bodies.

And he was definitely every man who ever beat a woman or a child.

I found myself astride his chest. He was panicked, his eyes begging me to spare him. I didn’t feel like it. No, he deserved not an ounce of mercy from me. He deserved my vengeance. As I wrapped my other hand around his throat and started to squeeze, I felt more power flowing through me than ever before.

“Please, Lieutenant,” Marcus’s voice said. “Allow me. I have some experience in this.”

Then Marcus’s voice was inside my head. Calm. Cool. Like a wave of peace, his voice lapped at that rage in my brain. He told me to release my prey, to give over to him. He promised he could bring me peace, help me.

Foolish vampire. I kicked him out as I had the other two who’d tried that trick. Hamilton’s throat was a toy in my hands and I shook him, enjoying the way his eyes had started to bulge.

Not so fast, cara mia, the voice in my head said calmly.

“Get out,” I snarled. I attempted to push the vampire out again, but he wasn’t budging. He was so much stronger than anything I’d encountered. He burrowed his way into my brain and then seemed to grow larger.

I wondered why he didn’t take over.

I will leave when you are back to being yourself. It wasn’t simply a voice though. There was a well of serenity behind the voice, willing me to join with it. He understood me. He could teach me. He tried to pull me back from the ledge I was on. Funny, I hadn’t even realized how far gone I was until Marcus showed me.

Please, cara mia. Let him go and allow the lieutenant to dispense proper justice. It was like Marcus was petting my brain, soothing that part of me that wanted to kill. It felt good to have him there. So good.

My hold tightened because a war was being fought in my head and I wasn’t ready to give up. “I am justice.”

In that moment, I felt I was. I was born to hunt those like Hamilton who took advantage and hurt those weaker or less fortunate than them.