Hunter's Prey: Bloodhounds, Book 2 Read Online Free PDF

right. About their gratitude toward Wilder, I mean. It’s only that some people have very long, very good memories.”
    And what do they remember? He bit his tongue and tasted blood, sharp and metallic. He might be clumsy enough to think it, but he wouldn’t let the words slip free. “Some people could put what little minds they have to better use.”
    “Agreed.” Ophelia pulled him to a stop beside the shop door. “I’m not delicate, you know. Honestly.”
    He smoothed his hand down her arm to wrap his fingers around her wrist. It felt fragile beneath his hand. So easily broken. “I’m sure you’re not, Miss Ophelia…but I’m not as gentle as I used to be. You wouldn’t need to be delicate to get hurt.”
    After a moment, she looked down at his hand. “I believe that observation is true of everyone.”
    “I suppose it is.” He released her before his grip could become possessive and fought for a smile. “I just…” Don’t want to see you hurt. It felt like exposing a weakness, so he tried to remember what a charming smile felt like. “I still need a little civilizing, after all those months in a cage.”
    “Then we’ll work on that,” she said resolutely. “I promise.”
    A serious, sweet little vow, and pain lurched through his chest, a hot twisting that vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving warmth in its wake. Some internal balance had changed.
    He only wished he understood what. And how.

Chapter Three
    Ophelia settled another stack of books at the end of the table and faced Nate. “Is there anything else you need from upstairs?”
    He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, a ghost of the thousands of times he’d straightened his spectacles by pushing them up. When he caught himself, he almost smiled. “I’ve considered wearing the frames without the lenses, just to have something familiar.”
    “You could have a set fitted with plain glass, like they do for the theater.”
    “Not a bad idea…” Nate’s voice trailed off as he began to dig through the tangle of papers and scribbled notes blanketing his end of the table. “If I could find where I left them. My body may be young, but my brain is in worse shape than ever.”
    The bland words covered a very real melancholy. Ophelia slid onto one of the high stools surrounding the worktable. “Do you want to talk about it?”
    He clenched his jaw and fixed his gaze on the table in front of him. “You don’t fool me for a moment, young lady. You do quite enough mothering without adding a crotchety vampire to your list of charges.”
    “I wouldn’t dream of mothering you,” she countered. “I would, however, like to talk to my friend.”
    A shudder rolled through him. “He died, Ophelia. I died. My heart stopped beating. Who’s to say I’m even me? Maybe my soul’s already escaped, and I’m just an echo. An after-image, and I’ll never experience an unfamiliar thought or create anything new, ever again, because I have to live within what I’ve already been.”
    He sounded like Kierkegaard as he struggled for purpose in his new embodiment. Since the only person in Iron Creek who cared to discuss the philosopher’s writings with her was Nate, surely he’d made the connection. “The only thing to do is find a truth which is true for you,” she paraphrased. “You no longer exist as you once did, but it certainly does not follow that now you do not exist at all.”
    “Perhaps.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “As long as you do not expect me to follow in Nietzsche’s footsteps. My miraculous transformation has only reinforced my belief that he’s a ridiculous fool for choosing to become one of the undead.”
    Vampires enjoyed their share of powers as well as disadvantages. Most could bestow pleasure with a bite, a fact that often drew companions and lovers as effectively as money or leisure. For those less concerned with matters of indulgence or consent, the ability to mesmerize, to enthrall, kept them well supplied with