Dammit. Where had Janie gone? He could actually use her at the moment.
A couple more inches and Malcolm would have got my heart, he thought.Why did I have to move?
This could all be over .
Thoughts like those weren't exactly helping matters.
He staggered down the street toward the alleyway, feeling weaker by the minute. It felt as though the only thing keeping everything from spilling out of his gut was his hand on top of the wound. Past the pain of the stab wound, he felt the vampire hunger gnaw angrily inside of him. It had been denied for too many days. It wasn't just going to go away now like a dull toothache. This time it was here to stay. And the more blood he lost—such as it was—the worse it was going to get.
Your own fault, he told himself.
He made it to the corner, worried that he was too slow to stop Malcolm and too weak to get the map.
Instead he was surprised that Malcolm stood there, facing him, as if he'd been waiting.
"Malcolm—" Quinn managed, immediately concerned by how weak and shaky his voice sounded.
Malcolm just stared, his forehead creased with a deep frown.
As Quinn was trying to form his mouth around the words, Malcolm's expression grew blanker and blanker, and then he fell forward at Quinn's feet.
"And you said I shouldn't come."
He looked up to see that Janie was in the shadows of the alley, holding a gun. Looked like the same gun she'd pointed at him a couple weeks ago.
She shook her head and holstered the weapon under her jacket. "If I hadn't followed you here, he would have gotten away. That was quite the lead he had on you, too. Did he take off when you were in the little boys' room or something?"
He blinked at her.
She blinked back. "Anyhow…" She crouched down next to Malcolm, efficiently patting him down before she pulled out a folded piece of paper. "One map, recovered." She peered closer at it. "What the hell isthat ? A beer stain? No respect. I should have shot him with more than just a garlic dart."
"Janie…" The world was starting to get blurry and even darker than the night was to start with.
"So now we have the map. Tomorrow we get the Eye, and then we take it from there. Hey, what's wrong?"
His knees hit the pavement, and he pulled his hand away from his chest. Janie gasped and closed the distance between them. She put the map down on the ground so she could grab Quinn's T-shirt and push it up and away from the wound.
She looked up to meet his unsteady gaze. "Old friend of the family, huh? Some friend. Did he figure out you were lying to him?"
He licked his dry lips and managed to push her hands away from him. "He… he saw you. In there.
You're supposed to be dead."
"Shit."
"Exactly what… what I thought."
"How could he see me?"
"He has eyes."
She shook her head. "Dammit, I must be really off my game. I'm usually much better at being inconspicuous. So this is my fault."
"One hundred per… percent."
She bit her lip. "Well, on the plus side, he didn't get your heart."
"Unfortunately."
"Don't say that. We need to get you back to the motel and bandage you up."
He shook his head and forced himself to stand, when all he felt like doing was curling up in a ball and possibly crying. In the most manly way possible, of course.
She grabbed his arm, and the scent of her flooded his nostrils.
No. That's not all he felt like doing.
He could actually feel the warmth of her neck in the cool night, the blood just underneath the surface calling to him. He restrained himself from pulling her to him.
"Get away from me," he warned.
"I'm trying to help you."
"You can help me by staying as far away from me as possible right now." As he said it, he could feel his fangs elongating and his hunger increasing. "I'm dangerous."
"Yeah, as dangerous as a wounded puppy."
He looked at her, and whatever she saw reflected in his eyes made her visibly flinch. "Quinn—"
"I need to get to a vampire bar. Malcolm told me that there's one nearby. I need to go right now. Don't follow me."
He staggered away from her without waiting for an answer.
Guilt and concern flooded through Janie. This was her fault. She shouldn't have followed him.
No, sheshould have. She just shouldn't have been seen.
Dammit.
She watched Quinn make his way down the street. The man was in bad shape. If he'd been at full strength before getting staked, or stabbed, or whatever had happened to him inside that bar, then he might just be feeling some pain. Not this… obvious agony he was dealing with.
She'd seen her share of starving vampires. Some hunters found it fun to keep a vampire locked away in a room for days or weeks or even months on end, depending on the age and strength of the vampire, and then let them out. Made for a more interesting kill. Perhaps took away that residue of guilt that gnawed away at the corners of a hunter's conscience about what was right and what was wrong when it came to killing another sentient being.
Quinn was definitely sentient. But that look he'd leveled at her had given her the chills. His eyes had turned black, just like those starving vampires. His wound seeped only a small amount of blood. How long had he gone without eating?
He was seriously the most stubborn man she'd ever met.