A Kiss of Blood (Vamp City #2)(5)

She reached into her pocket for her switchblade, then, pivoting on her heel, turned and slipped back around the corner, her gaze flying out in every direction, her heart thundering in her ears.

What were they doing a block from her apartment? Coincidence? Or had they somehow tracked her? Were they even now heading for her home?

And Zack was there alone.

Even if the Traders were looking for her, they might try to take him instead. Or hurt him if he got in their way.

She yanked out her cell phone and called Zack’s number. He could go to Mike’s. He’d be safe there; though what excuse they’d give Mike for such a cloak-and-dagger move, she had no idea. Maybe Zack would come up with something reasonably plausible and not too alarming.

But Zack’s phone rang and rang, flipping to voice mail. Dammit. If only she could call Mike, but the slip of paper with his number on it was still sitting on her kitchen counter. She’d never put his number in her phone.

Gripping her switchblade, Quinn began to run. Circling the block from the other direction, she entered her building from the back door instead of the front and hurried up the stairs, avoiding the elevator. When she reached her floor, she pulled her gun, then peered cautiously into the hallway. Empty.

Her pulse thundering in her ears, she eased her way down the hall, relieved to find her apartment door closed and, apparently, untouched. A good sign, unless Zack had opened the door and let them in.

Quickly unlocking the door, she slipped inside to find Zack snoring softly on the sofa. Locking the door behind her, she did a swift search of the apartment. Everything appeared normal if she didn’t count the way the beam of sunlight illuminated the gray cast of her brother’s skin.

Shoving her gun into her waistband, she shook Zack’s shoulder.

“Zack, wake up. We need to leave.” He made a sound that might have been a question, but his eyes failed to open. “Zack!” Still, he didn’t respond.

Panic bubbled up, shattering her desperate calm. He was too big for her to carry. And the Traders were too damned close.

Running to the kitchen, she snatched up the slip of paper with Mike’s phone number. “It’s Quinn, Mike,” she said when he answered.

“Quinn. What’s the matter?”

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to slow down. “Nothing. I just . . . Zack’s sick. I need to take him to a doctor, but I’m having trouble getting him awake. Can you help me get him down to the car?”

She’d expected a swift, “Of course.” Instead, her question was met with silence. She’d probably interrupted his writing, probably screwed up everything he was doing. Still . . .

“It’ll only take a couple of minutes, Mike.”

He sighed, his tone regretful. “Quinn, I can’t right now. Maybe in a couple of hours? I’m—”

Whatever else he said was drowned out by the crash of her front door. Whirling, she stared as the two Traders pushed their way into her apartment.

“Quinn?” Mike’s sharp voice rang in her ear.

“Don’t come, Mike.” She pulled her gun and backed toward the sofa and Zack. “I’m fine. Don’t come!” Mike might be a well-built male, but unless he possessed X-men-like talents, he wasn’t likely to be able to protect himself from supernatural creatures, let alone be of any help to her. He’d wind up in the slave auction at the mercy of bloodsucking vampires. Or dead. And that was the last thing she wanted.

If she was lucky, her power might decide to make an appearance. If not, she had other weapons, now. Tossing her phone onto the nearest chair, she aimed her gun at the closest Trader’s face.

He just grinned at her, sending chills down her spine despite the sunlight warming her back. “You don’t really think that toy is going to stop me, do you, girlie? You’ve got quite a reward on your head.”

As she’d both hoped and feared, her latent sorcerer’s power started to tingle in her blood, the weird, unnatural heat crawling beneath her skin. For all she knew, her eyes were glowing. One of these days, she’d like to be standing in front of a mirror when it happened so that she could see for herself.

The reality of firing her weapon at an assailant swept over her, at once exhilarating and terrifying. What if her bullet went wide, slamming through a wall and into another apartment? What if it didn’t, and she tore a hole through a living creature’s brain?

As the pair started slowly toward her, she pried her left hand away from the gun, holding it up, palm out and pointing toward her would-be captors. Taking a deep breath, she willed her power to come to her call, to push them back. But nothing happened, as usual, when she needed it.

“Come any closer, and I’ll shoot,” she warned.

A third person appeared in the doorway behind them. Mike.

“This isn’t your concern, Mike. Please leave.”

“Push them toward me, Quinn. Use your power and push them toward me. There’s too much sun.”

She froze at his words, her scalp going cold. Had Zack told him about her powers? No one knew. No one! Except Arturo. And the rest of the vampires.

Mike’s words slowly sank into her brain. There’s too much sun.

Too much sun.

Quinn swayed, the blood draining from her face as understanding crashed over her. Mike was a bloody freaking vampire. No, not Mike.

“Micah,” she breathed. Arturo had told her he had a friend . . . a vampire friend . . . named Micah who lived outside Vamp City. “You’re Micah.”