Dark Hunter by Shannan Albright Page B

be!
    The irony in Anya’s words hit her with all the power of a semi, leaving her mute, able only to gaze upon the man who sired her with a desperate kind of hunger. Like a woman dying of thirst, she drank him in and noted with surprise the changes to the man she knew two thousand years ago. The exotic almond shape of his pale blue eyes, eyes that seemed harder, shadowed with thick, dark lashes. The sharp line of an aquiline nose marred by the slight angle to the right as if his nose had been broken at some time. The angles of his face were sharper, leaner. He had an aura of predatory masculinity. Her eyes caught on those full, firm lips as she remembered the softness of them brushing over hers. Now set in a tight, firm line of tension, the lines bracketing his mouth stirred something in her gut. Her pulse kicked up a notch as she fought the need to trace her finger over those lines to ease the tightness there. His thick, long black hair glinted in the lights with a flash of sapphire highlights, falling in a straight shimmering mass down to his waist. Much longer than she remembered it being.
    She couldn’t help relishing the expanse of golden skin stretched over his corded neck, where his pulse beat out a seductive rhythm, making her mouth water. Her gaze followed his arms and the breadth of his shoulders stretching the seams of his blue cotton T-shirt. His deep, muscular chest tapered to narrow hips, and his toned legs were encased in low-slung jeans. He was everything hard and dangerous, his body more layered with muscle than she remembered.
    And she remembered quite a bit.
    This Navar knew hard times, survived them, and flourished. He’d changed into a harsh warrior capable of killing without a qualm.
    Since the time of Cleopatra, she’d walked the earth and grieved for the man who towered in front of her. Shock, confusion and anger vied for supremacy. Her veins throbbed with the toxic mix. Her hands curled into fists as her fangs dropped.
    “You are dead. I saw you die,” she managed to squeak past her constricted throat, her mouth dry as the desert she called home. “The hunters took your head. I barely escaped with my life.”
    “There were…complications beyond my control. I came to you as soon as I was able.” His deep voice held the exotic flavor of the Middle East, reminding her of sultry nights and hot spices.
    “For two thousand years? ” The harsh bite of hysteria laced her words. Her reality was seriously skewed to the left and she feared her sanity had just hopped on board for the ride. Surely she couldn’t be standing here talking to her dead lover…sire… whatever.
    Anya kept glancing from her to Navar who was standing tensely, his gaze riveted on Mari. “Um, yeah, well, I’m thinking you two need to talk and…well, if you need me, call.” Anya backed away from the two of them and took off in a blur, leaving Mari to face this unexpected reunion alone.
    Mari glared after her friend’s retreating back. She couldn’t face all of this right now. She needed time to think, to figure out what the hell she was going to do. It wasn’t everyday a woman was faced with the sudden appearance of a dead lover. She’d changed. She wasn't even remotely like the girl he once knew and she liked how she turned out—independent, meeting life on her terms, and to hell with anyone who didn’t like it.
    Would he even like the woman she'd become?
    They were both strangers to each other. Three months was hardly enough to really know someone. Had she fallen in love with an idea that the reality would never live up to? So many questions and no easy answers. She needed to regroup.
    I will always be there for you.
    She shook her head hard as Navar’s words swirled inside her head. Words spoken to her as she’d opened her eyes and saw him for the first time. Her first memory when she awoke as vampire. But it was a lie, and a sharp stab of pain struck deep in her heart.
    He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly