Moon Sworn (Riley Jenson Guardian 9)

Trepidation slithered through me. I pulled up by the curb rather than the driveway and threw the gears into neutral.

"He's not there by the look of it," Evin said.

"But he should be. He had two captives that needed to be locked up. One of them was a vamp." And Harris, despite his extraordinary abilities, wasn't used to dealing with vamps. I shouldn't have left him alone.

And yet if I hadn't, Evin might now be dead and I wouldn't be one step closer to much-needed answers.

I peered through the side window, scanning the building's windows and doors. There were no broken windows, no smashed locks or doors. Everything looked in order.

And yet every instinct I had said something was wrong.

"Stay here," I said, reaching for the door handle.

"Hanna - "

"No arguments, Evin," I cut in. "This is what I do. Lock the doors and keep the engine running. If anyone but me or Harris comes out of that place, run for it."

He was staring at me again. "Only guardians hunt vamps. Werewolves aren't - can't - be guardians."

"They can if they possess special talents or mixed blood. I'm a dhampire, Evin. I can do what vampires do, without the drawbacks." And as a werewolf who not only had vampire skills but who could shift into bird form, I certainly fit both those conditions. Even if I couldn't remember it. I climbed out of the cab. "Keep safe. Don't do anything stupid."

"Like come after you?" He snorted. "Sorry, Hanna, but I didn't willingly sign onto this gig, and I have a pregnant mate to consider. If there's a vamp loose in there, he's all yours."

"Then make sure you stay safe for her."

I closed the door, watched him lock both, then walked around the truck and headed toward the police station. I blinked to switch to infrared and scanned the inside of the building. The body heat of four people shimmered inside, meaning Harris had called in help.

I was barely four steps away from the door when energy brushed across my mind. It was a light, probing touch - inquisitive, and not yet dangerous. My shields were up enough that he couldn't read my thoughts, but I still felt the power surging under the surface of that touch, and it was very strong indeed.

Then I realized what I was doing, what I was feeling. That vamp might be telepathic, but so was I. Obviously, removing the earrings had worked.

As I reached for the door handle, the vamp hit me telepathically, the blow fierce and hard. I froze in my tracks for the barest of seconds, then threw all the energy I had to my shields, clenching my fists as I battled blow after mental blow.

Damn it, I'd had enough of people messing around with my thoughts! This bastard wasn't going to get in.

But he didn't seem to want to quit, either.

Sweat began trickling down my face and, in the pit of my stomach, fear swelled. I had strong shields, and this vamp was pushing me to my limits. What hope did Harris - and whoever else was in there with him - have?

They'd only had nanowires to protect them, and against a telepath this strong the wires were next to useless.

Then his telepathic attack ceased as suddenly as it had began. I took a deep, somewhat trembling breath and pushed the door open. Darkness greeted me, thick and silent. I flared my nostrils, drawing in the scents. Harris didn't seem to be close, but the other wolf stood in the shadows just behind the door.

He was barely even breathing. I reached out telepathically to assess the state of his mind and hit the electronic buzz of the nanowire. I could break past its protection - I'd done it often enough in the past - but it took time and effort, and I didn't want to risk it with another powerful telepath nearby. He might just use my concentration to get underneath my own shields.

I flexed my fingers, took a deep breath, then dove through the doorway, hitting the floor with my back, rolling neatly to my feet and spinning around.

To find the barrel of a gun pointing straight at my head.

Chapter 13

He didn't hesitate, just pulled the trigger.

I dove out of the way, but as fast as I was, it just wasn't enough. The bullet ripped through the fleshy part of my thigh and wedged somewhere inside. Pain welled, thick and hard.

Not because I'd been shot. Because the bullet was silver.

Fuck.