Hunted, The Complete Edition: A Full-length Steamy Vampire Romance (New England Nightwalkers) by Chloe Cole
Authors: Chloe Cole
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Ezekiel breathing down her neck that she'd been distracted and let him off with only a stern warning. Now, though, the lies, one building on another, were starting to get to him. He'd never been good at subterfuge. He'd always been the type of guy that said what he thought, and fuck the consequences.
But now, he had more than himself to think about.
He had Zara.
She shifted in the passenger’s seat beside him, sending another waft of her cherry blossom scent his way.
"Where are we going?" she asked. "Didn't we just pass your street?"
"I thought we could have a real date. Like dinner and some wine at a nice restaurant."
A restaurant where they would be sure to run into one of his kind. Then it would get back to Irena that he was, indeed, following through with his duty, and she would begin to let her guard down again.
As serious as the situation was, though, his lips twitched at the look of disappointment on Zara’s face at his announcement. It was almost enough to make him turn the car around and head back for his house, but in spite of the pragmatic reason for their destination, he had a few surprises up his sleeve. Already, his blood went hot at the thought.
"I wanted to make sure I fed you. We lived off crackers and cheese half the weekend. That hardly seems gentlemanly."
She nodded reluctantly and settled back against her seat.
She trusted him. As much as he liked that, it was also concerning. Was she just gullible, or was her trust for him alone? He hated that, sooner or later, once he told her the truth, he was going to have to destroy that trust, but for the time being, her naiveté was to his advantage.
His thoughts flicked back to her friend, Steph. She'd clearly found him physically attractive, but she'd shut that down quickly enough to assess him with clear eyes for Zara’s benefit, and she wasn’t as trusting. Sure, she’d made light of her protectiveness, like she’d been joking, but there had been a sharpness in her gaze, a slight tilt to her head as she’d studied him, that had his nightwalker senses tingling. Nothing major, but he would have to tread lightly around her for the time being.
He tucked that away as he slowed in front of Il Palo. The Italian restaurant had been a favorite of members of The Protectorate, and he slid the car neatly into a space in front.
"Feel like pasta?" he asked, unbuckling his belt and tugging the keys out of the ignition.
"I always feel like pasta," she said, seeming to perk up a little.
That was good. He didn't want her to be unhappy. Especially when he hoped to mix business with pleasure. They had some dark days ahead of them. Which was exactly why he’d decided to take her here, court her some. It was selfish as hell, but if he could tighten their bond, if they could share more experiences together before he blew her whole fucking world to bits, just maybe she would choose to stay with him after the dust settled.
He squashed the rising tide of guilt as he exited the car and got to her door just as she was getting out. The arc of electricity that leapt from her to him as he took her hand strengthened his resolve. She made him feel alive in every sense of the word.
Zara tossed her hair over one shoulder, sending the scent of her shampoo in his direction and he said a silent prayer for strength. Again, the pressure of his fangs against his gums increased. He could've drunk from one of the bags his kind all kept on hand to slake his thirst. But now that he'd found Zara, and he realized they belonged to one another, the thought sickened him. If she knew the truth about him and what he was forced to do to survive before he had a chance to try and fix it, she would hate him.
And he could suffer anything but that.
He made a mental note to contact Dr. Fenton the following morning for a status report. The little man was peculiar in every sense of the word, but there was no denying that he was a genius. He’d been largely responsible for the scientific
But now, he had more than himself to think about.
He had Zara.
She shifted in the passenger’s seat beside him, sending another waft of her cherry blossom scent his way.
"Where are we going?" she asked. "Didn't we just pass your street?"
"I thought we could have a real date. Like dinner and some wine at a nice restaurant."
A restaurant where they would be sure to run into one of his kind. Then it would get back to Irena that he was, indeed, following through with his duty, and she would begin to let her guard down again.
As serious as the situation was, though, his lips twitched at the look of disappointment on Zara’s face at his announcement. It was almost enough to make him turn the car around and head back for his house, but in spite of the pragmatic reason for their destination, he had a few surprises up his sleeve. Already, his blood went hot at the thought.
"I wanted to make sure I fed you. We lived off crackers and cheese half the weekend. That hardly seems gentlemanly."
She nodded reluctantly and settled back against her seat.
She trusted him. As much as he liked that, it was also concerning. Was she just gullible, or was her trust for him alone? He hated that, sooner or later, once he told her the truth, he was going to have to destroy that trust, but for the time being, her naiveté was to his advantage.
His thoughts flicked back to her friend, Steph. She'd clearly found him physically attractive, but she'd shut that down quickly enough to assess him with clear eyes for Zara’s benefit, and she wasn’t as trusting. Sure, she’d made light of her protectiveness, like she’d been joking, but there had been a sharpness in her gaze, a slight tilt to her head as she’d studied him, that had his nightwalker senses tingling. Nothing major, but he would have to tread lightly around her for the time being.
He tucked that away as he slowed in front of Il Palo. The Italian restaurant had been a favorite of members of The Protectorate, and he slid the car neatly into a space in front.
"Feel like pasta?" he asked, unbuckling his belt and tugging the keys out of the ignition.
"I always feel like pasta," she said, seeming to perk up a little.
That was good. He didn't want her to be unhappy. Especially when he hoped to mix business with pleasure. They had some dark days ahead of them. Which was exactly why he’d decided to take her here, court her some. It was selfish as hell, but if he could tighten their bond, if they could share more experiences together before he blew her whole fucking world to bits, just maybe she would choose to stay with him after the dust settled.
He squashed the rising tide of guilt as he exited the car and got to her door just as she was getting out. The arc of electricity that leapt from her to him as he took her hand strengthened his resolve. She made him feel alive in every sense of the word.
Zara tossed her hair over one shoulder, sending the scent of her shampoo in his direction and he said a silent prayer for strength. Again, the pressure of his fangs against his gums increased. He could've drunk from one of the bags his kind all kept on hand to slake his thirst. But now that he'd found Zara, and he realized they belonged to one another, the thought sickened him. If she knew the truth about him and what he was forced to do to survive before he had a chance to try and fix it, she would hate him.
And he could suffer anything but that.
He made a mental note to contact Dr. Fenton the following morning for a status report. The little man was peculiar in every sense of the word, but there was no denying that he was a genius. He’d been largely responsible for the scientific
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