Dark Ink Tattoo: Ep 3 Read Online Free Page B

to leave, saying as much to a subordinate. Then I leapt up, and raced for the far end of the roof where I’d parked my car. I turned my engine over as he turned his, masking my sound with his own, and as his motorcycle pulled out from the thinned herd of chrome, I followed.
    I wanted to see which way he was going first – I knew crime paid well enough, but I was curious if Murphy would let that show – nothing like buying too nice a house to interest the IRS. Instead of driving into Vegas, he drove out, toward the surrounding desert. Maybe he wanted to commune with his conscience under the moonlight. I followed at a distance without headlights, but when he pulled over, I turned them on and drove up, slowing down, blocking his bike in with my car.
    I stopped, opened my car door to stand halfway out, and pretended to be companionable. “Did you break down?”
    My arrival startled him. Whatever he’d been doing – something involving the front of his shirt – he stopped and looked guilty. “I’m fine – go away.”
    “Afraid I can’t.” I propelled myself over the hood of my car to land feet first on the other side. “Does the name Bella ring any bells?”
    “Shit –“ He tossed a leg over his motorcycle – I ran up and kicked his back tire, hard enough to bend his rim. He didn’t let it fall though, he fought my momentum, holding it upright. His hands went to bags as I leaned in to punch him.
    The man had a jaw like a piece of granite. And my punch should’ve taken him down – but all it did was knock him off his bike. He stumbled backwards but didn’t fall, even as his motorcycle tipped over. “Who the fuck are you?” he said, holding his jaw.
    “A concerned friend.” I kicked his motorcycle out of the way, sending it ten feet out into the scree. “What happened to her? What’d she want with you?”
    He looked from his bike to me. “How the fuck – who are you?”
    “What happened to her,” I repeated in a low growl, bringing the full force of my whammy to bear.
    He blinked, momentarily mesmerized. “We had her for months. She never mentioned a boyfriend.”
    “Had?” I asked archly, still using my powers. His answer would determine how many of his bones I broke before killing him.
    Then he shook himself. I didn’t think he should’ve been able to, but he did. No matter, there were other ways of getting information.
    I jumped him.
    Neither of us were pretty fighters, none of the graceful shit you see on TV. We were bred for the pits, and acted like it. I was taller than he was and had better reach, but he was fucking sturdy in a way I’d never seen. Blows that would’ve incapacitated a normal man did nothing to him, while he rained heavy fists on me any time he got close. I just needed to get him down into a headlock – I saw an opening and took it, but he punched back, just in time. I dodged it, but a rock slid out from under my boot, making me drop my guard. His next punch landed hard, and I felt ribs snap.
    I clutched a hand to my chest. As a vampire, I’d never had anyone hurt me before. What the fuck are you??? I wanted to ask him – then I realized if I kept staying alive, he’d ask the same of me. He turned and ran –
    “Oh no you don’t –“ I said and leapt for him – as he dove for his bags and brought a sawed off shotgun up. I had time for the weapon to register, right before he shot me. Catching a chest full of lead, I fell.
    * * *
    I…was injured. Not dying, but…hurt. It was an entirely new sensation for me. I rose up onto my elbows and looked down at myself. Blood, precious blood – mostly other people’s – leaking out, scattershot on my chest, literally. I didn’t know what to do – should I pretend to be mortally wounded? Would he know what I was if I didn’t? Would he come and try to finish the job?
    How come I hadn’t finished him?
    Rage boiled in me then, even as blood sieved out. I wanted him to die – and I needed to drink him, to make up for what