Chapter Forty-Three

Dawn was teasing the horizon when Rachel finally stumbled upon a house she could get into. Any other time she'd have punched her way through a door or window, but she hadn't enough strength left.


Instead she staggered through Dalwick, hugging the shadows that lined the streets, until she came to a small bungalow with its front door hanging open. An elderly man stood on the doorstep, waiting for his terrier to do its business.


Injured though she was, Rachel still possessed enough vampire grace and speed to slink up on him. His neck was snapped before he even knew someone was there. Rachel dragged his body inside and closed the door, leaving the terrier to mournfully yap outside.


She bent over the dead man. It hurt to open her mouth, her charred lips cracking and bleeding, but she wouldn't have to endure the pain for long. She sank her fangs into the man's throat and hot, salty blood rushed out, pouring into her mouth. She closed her eyes in bliss. The best blood came from living prey, but even old rats struggled and Rachel was too weak to hold him down while she fed.


She drained him dry, infusing her body with just enough energy to crawl down to the basement. There was only one window there and she stacked boxes of Christmas decorations in front of it to block out the burgeoning sunlight.


Exhausted, she slumped to the basement floor. She couldn't stay here for long. Soon enough her meal's neighbours would realise he was dead, and then the human police would come calling. Much as it galled her to admit it, Rachel couldn't afford a confrontation with them, not when she was still this weak. She would have to hide here until dark and then hunt again, hunt until her injuries were healed, and then –


Anger twisted her burned lips. And then, she would get her revenge. She'd underestimated Kiara Morrow, but she wouldn't make that mistake again. This wasn't over. Rachel would get her strength back and then she would peel the skin from the little bitch's skull.


Kiara would wish she'd never been born by the time Rachel was through with her.


But Kiara wasn't the only one she had her murderous sights set on. Vampires were superior to humans in every way – Rachel knew this. She'd been willing to overlook Luke's repulsive habit of treating them as equals rather than food, but he had turned on his fellow vampires in favour of those humans. He had betrayed his kind in the worst possible way, and Rachel couldn't allow that kind of crime to go unpunished.


Luke had to die.


Rachel managed a painful smile. Luke and Kiara thought they'd won, but their days were numbered. She was going to bring hell to Dalwick.

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