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  TEMPT

  Ava Delaney #3

  By Claire Farrell

  Edited by Lynn O’Dell

  There’s a monster running around Dublin, and it’s up to Ava to catch it. The pressure’s on, and she’s becoming as cynical as Peter. But when a demon marks her friend, and a possible threat from England spells war, Ava’s left with a huge choice to make. The lives of one or many.

  With a little help, Ava has the chance to win all of her battles… if the darkness doesn’t take her over first.

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © Claire Farrell 2011

  [email protected]

  Book cover image provided by Konradbak @ Dreamstime.com

  Licence Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter One

  Blood dripped down her chin so slowly it felt as though time itself had come to a standstill. She stared at me, face contorting, managing to appear even uglier than the last time I had seen her. Her lips drew back, revealing her stained teeth. Fangs really. Oversized, misshapen mutations of teeth.

  Hearing the growl deep in her throat, I took the warning and matched her crouch. I tried to concentrate, knowing she had already drunk her fill and would be even stronger than the times she had slaughtered entire Guardian Circles with ease.

  Becca let the drained body in her grip slump to the ground. She slunk toward me, deceptively slow and awkward. I’d chased her before, knew how fast and agile she could be.

  She lowered her head and gave me what might have been a grin. Time to play.

  “You’re coming with me, Becca,” I said, readying myself. “The Council can help you.” Not that I believed it.

  She made a sound that could have been either a laugh or a derisive snort. Turned into a monster by the vampires, Becca was further away from human than they were. A mutation that had become a nuisance to every species of being in the country, Becca was wanted under lock and key. I wondered if she had any idea that death would be the better option. For the hundredth time in the last few weeks, I reminded myself why capturing her was the better choice, although it still didn’t make much sense to me.

  A jerky movement from Becca caught my full attention. Knowing she had blocked herself in by feeding in the small closed-in space behind a large building, I took a confident step toward her. She had moved too far into the city, made it too easy for me to zone in on her.

  I kept a tight hold on the dagger hidden in my sleeve, ready for her to pounce. Waited for her to make a move.

  She dashed to her right and managed to scale an eight-foot wall using her bare hands and feet as I watched open-mouthed. She somersaulted over the barbed wire topping the wall and disappeared into the lot behind the neighbouring warehouse.

  “Shit!” I had no hope of climbing the flat wall and actually managing to keep the skin attached to my hands, so I headed for a drainpipe further along the building instead. If I got up high enough, and close enough, I might have a chance at getting over the wall. If I didn’t fall and break my legs…

  I rubbed some heat into my numb fingers, then jumped, gripping with my knees as I tried to haul myself up the pipe.

  “You had her, Ava. Why didn’t you go for it?”

  I refused to look down and kept inching my way up the pipe. A vampire could have jumped it; an angel might have flown. I hadn’t inherited any of the good stuff.

  “Not now, Peter,” I hissed through my teeth.

  I sensed him gesturing in annoyance behind me, but I was too busy hanging on for dear life to care.

  “I’m going around the other way. I’ll try to cut her off with the car. Be careful.”

  His footsteps grew faint as I came level to the upper windows with a grunt. Glancing below as my body swayed of its own accord, I seriously considered climbing back down. There would be nothing to grab onto once I let go of the drainpipe. Lots of the older buildings in the city still had bars attached to the windows, but the business estate was too modern for fire safety hazards.

  Taking a deep breath, I swung my leg out and edged myself onto a windowsill, unwilling to look down again. Heights had never been my strong point, but hunting Becca meant I had to take chances.

  Counting like crazy in my head, I inched my way across the ledge and swung my leg again, almost missing the next window. I pressed my forehead against the section of brick between two windows and clung to the wall, my feet barely stable on each ledge. Sweat rolled down my back as I fought to keep my balance, my hands feeling impossibly slippery all of a sudden.

  I steadied myself at last and moved along to the last window without any trouble, but the racing of my heart never slowed. The gap to the security wall that Becca had jumped over was further than the spaces between the windows, plus it was a little lower than the ledges, and I knew a mere step across wouldn’t cut it. Even if it did, I still had to contend with the spiked barb wire on top of the wall.

  Unable to believe what I was about to do, I bent my knees and swallowed hard. Multiplying rapidly aloud as if praying, I jumped hard and fast, pushing my body, willing myself to make it without tumbling to the ground.

  Both of my feet landed on the tiny barb-free surface of the wall, but all of my weight moved onto my toes, and I swayed dramatically. One foot slipped off the edge, and I scrambled, grabbing the barbed wire to balance myself. The pain didn’t kick in until I was sure I wouldn’t fall. Then, the intense stinging came, almost as bad as a vampire bite. I had no time to nurse the ribboned skin because Becca was likely long gone.

  Unless she happened to get distracted by a human or two.

  I stepped over the barbed wire carefully but still managed to get my trousers caught. Pulling a patch clean away, I jumped from the wall, landed badly, and tumbled to avoid the worst of it. For a few seconds, I sat on the ground, trousers ripped, hands bleeding, and wondered what the hell I was doing.

  Shaking my head, I took my time linking to my other sense and viewed the world another way, on a different level. Becca should have been long gone, but I saw her mangled essence nearby, gaining ground on some pulsing lifelines. She wasn’t the nothingness that made a vampire stand out on that plane of sight, but she wasn’t anything close to a human, either.

  I got to my feet and broke into a jog, a little unsteady, but sure of where I was heading. I pushed myself through the empty lot, passed the lifeless body of a security guard, and finally found Becca crouched atop the empty security hut. She stared upward at an open window in an adjoining apartment building.

  Hunting. Her only weakness. She couldn’t pass a source of human blood without stopping.

  I ran noisily, so she must have heard me, but she didn’t react. I made it to the hut just as she leapt upward, and threw myself at her. Catching hold of her ankle, I sent us both crashing to the ground. Quickly recovering, Becca lashed out with a fist, connecting with my jaw. I had flashbacks of the first time I met Peter and blinked on cue to see her come at me with an open mouth.

  I rolled over, balancing my palms on the ground to kick out at her chest, sending her flying. We both got to our feet at the same time and danced around each other. I waited for her to make a move, but she didn’t. She just kept her eyes on me, wary even in the intensity of her glare.

  I had never seen a vampire with eyes so red. Pure scarlet orbs signalled the deaths of many innocent people, as well as a few not so innocent beings. In mere weeks, she had racked up a number most vampires would envy. If any of the vampires stopped toeing the line and followed Becca’s lead instead, anarchy would ensue. Reason Number 537 why I was on her trail.

  Remembering my purpose, I rushed toward her, trying to work up some outrage at the damage her misplaced loyalty and vanity had caused,
but she was more than ready and wrestled me into the centre of the road, her fangs snapping. Her jaws were strong and backed with an unusual density, and I couldn’t afford to let her clamp down on me.

  Still, I could tell she held back. Perhaps an old memory from life made her cautious, but she didn’t come at me with the ferocious fervour the Guardian Circles had reported. They were the supernatural equivalent of a police force, yet they hadn’t figured out a way to deal with Becca. For all the mistakes I had made, I knew I should be dead already. I also knew she could tear me apart without warning. I had no idea what it was she feared about me, and even less of a notion as to why I hadn’t managed to take advantage of her hesitation yet.

  Gripping the dagger, I pulled away from her, darting in and out, puzzling her. When she stopped batting out at me, I slashed across her face with the dagger. The wounds weren’t deep enough to be fatal because the Council wanted her alive, but deep enough to hurt. Deep enough to enrage her, I realised too late.

  She put her head down and barrelled her way at me, connecting with my stomach so brutally, she forced a wheezy oof sound from me. She lifted me over her shoulder, ignored my frantic blows on her head and back, and kept running until she slammed me into a wall. Harsh pain drove through my back and chest. Winded, I made sure her mouth stayed well away and flashed my own fangs for good measure, startling her enough to create some space between us.

  We both eased off but, not for the first time, the thought occurred to me that the Council didn’t need her alive. That I might not have a choice. If it came down to my life or hers, I’d pick mine every time. I shifted the dagger free, letting the glowing blue blade gleam in the moonlight. It was a beautifully dainty weapon, but every vampire seemed to instinctively know to avoid it. When Becca saw it, she didn’t seem bothered. In fact, she looked more worried about my fangs.

  Taking a chance, I flexed my wrist and threw the dagger. It spun in the air and struck her in the shoulder. She howled with pain but, as I suspected, it didn’t kill her instantly. Real vampires were consumed by the blade, their dark poison burned away by the dagger’s light. The blade wasn’t a serious threat to Becca. It hurt her, but she didn’t die. Something we had in common.

  But a cross might do her some damage. One had burned her before the change. I asked Peter about it one night, but he hadn’t been able to explain why a symbol of faith had evoked such a severe reaction.

  Deciding to test the theory, I edged closer to her, unwilling to let her keep the dagger she was about to pull out of her shoulder. I grabbed the weapon first, whipping it out in one swift movement, and backed away as thick, black blood oozed from the wound, bubbling nastily. Becca screeched and rushed me, but I held up the cross that hung around my neck and pushed it against her fingers before she could grab me. She cried out again, and I heard the sizzle as the metal burned into her skin.

  She limply held out her hand but carried on with the attack. Her fangs were still fine enough to bite me, but for a split second, I lost my concentration and wondered if my grandmother saw me as something like Becca.

  The kick came before I realised she had moved. I was on my back within half a second, and she leapt on me, teeth flashing.

  The cross came to my aid again, but Becca handled the pain, suddenly intent on the pulsing in my neck. I hit her forehead with the blunt handle of the dagger, then rolled, elbowing her in my attempt to get away. She grabbed my leg and sank her teeth in, puncturing my skin through my jeans.

  Instantly, my scrambling stopped. I felt my life ebbing away, as if I were watching my own death from somewhere above. Excruciating pain seared through me; I couldn’t move to defend myself. My entire body began to shut down with paralysis, but I still felt the pure torture of Becca’s teeth connecting with my skin. I wanted to curl up and wait for the pain to go away, but I couldn’t move, and the agony didn’t fade at all.

  Far off, I heard the squealing of tyres and vaguely remembered we were in the middle of a road. Great, the car might finish me off quicker.

  A dark green car ran right over Becca, barely missing my ankle. She let go of me with a shriek as the wheels pulled her along with the vehicle. I could only close my eyes and savour the relief of the pain drifting away. With Becca’s fangs came agony, once she let go, the throbbing dissipated quickly.

  “Are you okay?” I scented Peter’s aftershave and almost wished a car really had run over me.

  “Where?” I rolled and tried to stand, but I was too shaky. Feeling slowly came back to the rest of my body. I preferred the numbness.

  “She’s gone. Ran off. What the hell, Ava?”

  I raised a palm. “Not now. Help me up. Her poison screwed with my whole body.”

  Peter took my hand, reached for the other, and pulled me to my feet, ignoring my moans of pain. His fingers trembled as I met his eyes. His face was rigid with livid fury, and I knew he was scared. Peter always acted angry the second he felt afraid. One thing we had in common.

  “Get in the car,” was all he said.

  I limped over to the car, not bothering to argue about giving up before sunrise. I was in bad shape, not the worst I’d ever been, but definitely not in a condition suitable to capture Becca. Or to win an argument with Peter Brannigan.

  I stared at the empty streets as he drove me home, hating the way Becca had made my hometown a no-go area. Concealing a groan, I tried to look bored as Peter pulled into a checkpoint.

  A young Garda approached the car, shining his torch in at both of us. “There’s a curfew,” he reminded us.

  “I was just driving her home,” Peter said. “I took a bad shortcut. You know how it is.”

  “Actually, I don’t,” the Garda said, his lips tightening. He leaned over, resting his arm on the roof of the car as he peered inside. “Licence?”

  I snapped my head around and stared at him. After the night I had just had, I wasn’t in the mood to go easy on anyone. Narrowing my eyes, I sent a persuasive thought his way. I felt as though I were floating, and the Garda blinked a couple of times before muttering under his breath and heading back to the checkpoint to wave us on.

  I sensed Peter shaking and knew it was only a matter of time before he exploded. As soon as we pulled away from the checkpoint, he smacked his hand on the steering wheel in annoyance.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”

  “There was no need to do that to him, no need at all.”

  “He was shining his stupid torch in my face. The idiot’s going to get himself killed if he keeps that up. I was doing him a favour.”

  “He’s just doing his job, Ava.”

  “Don’t even get me started.”

  He heaved a weary sigh. “Since when do you do that to people? And it’s not just that. I’m talking about the whole screw-up with Becca tonight, too.”

  I shrugged. “She’s pretty strong.”

  “No. Not that, Ava. I’m talking about your head. The stupid mistakes you’re making. This isn’t you. Are you trying to get yourself killed?” His voice was low and scary, but I was past caring.

  “Of course not. You try and fight her, see how far you get.”

  “Don’t be a smartarse, Delaney. You know what I’m talking about. You’ve been like this for weeks now. Ever since the trial, and we’re all sick of it.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “Oh, well, as long as you all are happy bitching about me, you—”

  “Stop that. You’re worrying the people who care about you, and you know it. You’ve closed yourself up since the trial. You won’t talk. You won’t deal with whatever’s bothering you. All you do is track Becca. Then, when you come across her, your mind isn’t even there.”

  I scowled, mostly because he was right. I could see the worry in his eyes, and that just made everything worse.

  “Look, I know you’re going through something right now, but you need to focus. You can’t let her get that close to you again. Not when your mind is elsewhere. T
here’s something more important going on here, Ava. You have to deal with this first.”

  I stared out the window. I didn’t have an answer.

  He tried a different tact. “If you don’t catch her soon, the Council could turn nasty. You have to be useful.”

  “What, like you?” I stared at him, watching his jaw twitch as he tried to control his temper.

  “Exactly like me.” His voice softened. “And I’m sorry about that.”

  A shiver ran through me. I preferred his anger. “I’ll get her next time.”

  “Will you? Or will she get you? Will you even fight back next time?”

  “I said I’d get her.” Every frustrating word of his made absolute sense, but it wouldn’t sink in properly. I was becoming a spectator of my own life, I felt so detached from everything. Attaching myself led to pain, to fear, to confusion. My own messed-up emotions combined with the unwieldy consequences of uncontrolled empathy left me absolutely terrified to feel.

  “Talk to me, Ava,” he said, a note of urgency in his voice.

  “Nothing to talk about.” I folded my arms and concentrated on trying to make out the graffiti sprawled on the blocks of flats we passed. Too many boarded-up windows. Left to rot. Like so many things.

  “Don’t do that. Don’t shut everyone out. Let us help you get through this.” He touched my arm, but I brushed him off and sank against the door. This covered a multitude of things, finding out my life had been a lie, that my grandmother had allowed me to think I was protecting a secret—one that wasn’t even real—with my life, that my mother had been something very special, someone I could never live up to. Nobody could help me through this.

  “Fine,” he snapped. “But you’re not wriggling your way out of training this time.”

  I whirled around to gape at him. “I can’t train. There’s no one able to train me, you know that.”