Steal the Light (Thieves #1)(67)

“No, you’re not, dear,” Halfer said softly, his voice cajoling, the only bit of calm in my head. “You still have the best option of all. It’s time to step up to the plate, companion. It’s time to do what you were born to do.”

“How did you know?” I was a little unnerved that he had read my mind.

His voice was silky smooth with just a hint of sympathy. “I feed on doubt and indecision. I can read your doubts. They call to me. If you want me to go away, Zoey Wharton, then get off your ass and make a decision.”

“What did you mean I was born to do this? I was born to do what?”

“Feed the vampire,” Halfer said, his eyes darkening. “If you want him to live, you will feed him yourself. It’s the only way he will survive this. He needs you. Only your blood will do.”

I turned the car away from the club and back toward the freeway. I had to put some distance between us and Stewart and his zoo of hired killers. My mind raced, but the panic was gone, replaced with cool decision. Daniel needed blood. I had blood.

It really was far more simple than I’d made it out to be.

I needed someplace quiet and out of the way. Someplace no one would think to look for. I started for the suburbs to the west.

When I looked again, Halfer was gone.





I was shaking by the time I closed the door to the motel room I’d paid cash for. I forced myself to drive out of the city and past the first of the countless suburbs between Dallas and Fort Worth. I’d gotten off the freeway and found a small highway and then a tiny motel. It was what I liked to call a murder motel because I couldn’t imagine that people didn’t die there on a regular basis. But it was off the beaten track and they didn’t ask for ID or a credit card. The parking lot was hidden from the street. It was the perfect place for someone who didn’t want to be found.

Getting Daniel through the door was the hard part though I found getting him out of the car so much easier than getting him in. I had to pull him out by shoving my arms under his shoulders and dragging him an inch at a time. At least I didn’t have a weretiger practically breathing down my neck this time. He was dead weight, and there was a lot of him, but I was determined. He was well over six feet and he was somewhere around two-twenty, all of it muscle, but I got him inside.

There wasn’t much to the room. There was just the king-sized bed, a TV that had to be a veteran of the eighties, a small desk, and the bathroom. When I was certain nothing was hiding in the shadows, I forced myself to secure the package and pulled a sharpie out of the backpack. I always carried a couple. I drew a ward exactly as I’d been taught on the door. I proceeded to repeat the exercise on all four walls – north, south, east and west. The ward prevented witches from using locator spells to track us. It was a simple design, and I was hopeful it would hold.

When that was done, I finally let myself look at the man I’d loved most of my life. He was so still lying there on the floor. I turned on the light and couldn’t stop a short, startled cry. He was ashen, as though I was too late and nothing could bring him back from the second, final death.

I fell to my knees beside him, tears streaking down my face. I hadn’t told him. I hadn’t told any of them that this was the place Halfer had taken me to. Not this cheap motel room, but a place where Daniel died again and again and there was nothing I could do to save him.

Then I saw it—the slightest movement of his chest. It was light. It was so shallow I would have missed it if I hadn’t been close, but it was there all the same.

“Okay, buddy, come on.” I put my wrist to his mouth. “Wake up. The dinner bell is ringing.”

I got nothing. There wasn’t even the slightest movement to let me know he was in there somewhere. I reached into the pocket of his leather duster jacket. Daniel was extremely handy and almost never went anywhere without his Swiss Army knife. He was forever pulling it out and using the little screwdriver or the corkscrew or the file. I flipped through the tools, locating one that would work. The corkscrew was applicable. I was opening his favorite vintage.

Sharp pain bit at me as I forced the tip of the tool into my wrist. I didn’t go far or drag it down. I cut just enough to bleed. If I could just give Daniel a taste, he might be able to do the rest for himself.

I pressed the wound on my left arm against his lips and squeezed with my right hand to get the blood flowing. After a moment, I felt the beautiful press of his mouth on my wrist and then his tongue caressing my skin.

“Come back, Daniel,” I implored him.

His eyes opened but they still had a sleepy look to them. He shoved my arm away and managed to push himself up to sitting. He slumped there with his back against the bed, an accusatory look in his eyes.

“What are you doing, Zoey?”

“Saving you.” I tried to put my wrist back to his mouth, but he pushed it away. Anger bloomed inside me. “Do you really want to die that badly? Or is it me? Do you not want me? Do you want me to get you some hooker, Danny? Would a prostitute be more acceptable?”

Daniel laughed, but it was a wretched sound. “Not want you? That’s a laugh. I can’t help but want you. Even if I hated you I would want you. I…Zoey, you don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t know what you’re asking for. Get my cell phone and call the club. It’s where you should have gone in the first place.”