Pure Healing Read Online Free Page A

momentum generating enough force to choke its victim like a python. The vampire gurgled out a broken scream and fell to his knees like a rag doll, clawing in futility at the unforgiving chains, which increased pressure the more he struggled.
    Valerius flashed in front of the male, stopping three feet away, close enough to hear if the vampire managed to speak, but too far to reach, not that the blood-sucker had enough strength to do damage at this point.
    “Where is the Horde?” Valerius demanded in a low rumble, tensing the chain further to ensure the vampire’s undivided attention.
    The male shook his head frantically, his eyes all but bulging out of their sockets from the tight squeeze of the chains.
    Valerius knew that he would get no information from this male, not because the vampire was refusing to tell, but because he didn’t know anything to tell. With a flick of his wrist, the scythe on the end of the chain, all but forgotten on the ground behind the vampire, snapped like a pendulum sideways and upwards in an arc, cleanly slicing the vampire’s head from his shoulders on the swing back around. Almost instantaneously, the severed body disintegrated into a pile of ashes, and a gust of wind swept it
unceremoniously off the roof as if the creature never was.
One less blood-sucker roaming the streets of South End.
    And one less rapist, too, from what Valerius had seen ten minutes ago before he’d given chase. His upper lip curled slightly on one side in a low growl. That clean beheading was too good for the vampire. If Valerius had time to spare, he would have returned the violence upon the vampire tenfold. As the Protector of the Pure Ones it was his duty to hunt down rogue vampires who abused and tormented innocent humans.
    He recalled the scythe to its original position with a curled pull of his forearm and secured the handle on his weapon belt. With two large bounds, he leapt off the roof and landed in the alley below without a sound.
    A homeless woman curled on the steps of the townhouse next door looked up from the beer bottle she nursed, as if sensing his presence, instinctively pulling back against the wall in case there was any threat to her habitual spot. Watching Valerius’ longlegged strides as he walked past her, she shrugged, not giving him a second thought. Clearly he was a resident who just came out of the brownstone and was used to her taking up that corner, though strangely, she hadn’t heard the door open and close.
    Valerius strode purposefully to his awaiting Hayabusa, also known as the Suzuki GSX1300R, the fastest motorcycle ever built. He’d had it fitted specifically for his long, lean, muscular form and had the exterior painted entirely in black with selective silver accents to blend seamlessly into the night, the perfect stealth vehicle for hunting vampires.
    As he rounded the corner of Draper’s Lane and Ivanhoe, the Hayabusa in sight, he stiffened a split second before he caught the glint of a spatha ’s blade out of the corner of his eye just as it swung with deadly force from his right side. Reacting on pure instinct before the danger registered fully, Valerius curved his torso to the left and twisted out of range.
    But not before the blade glanced his hip, slicing through his black leathers like butter, leaving a six inch gash in its wake.
    Valerius leapt back, fully prepared now to take down his ambushers. He sensed three in the shadows in front of him and one approaching from behind. He broke into a sprint before his enemies could close in, but he ran in the opposite direction of his ride, back down Draper’s Lane toward the intersecting alley with Upton Street. He wasn’t ready for the hunt to end this night. With a vengeance, he wanted to take down the four vampires rapidly gaining on him.
    Valerious led his pursuers into a dead end alley. As he reached the end, he increased the length and power of his strides and leapt onto the fifteen-foot brick wall barring the exit. He