Once Bitten (Shadow Guild: The Rebel #1) - Linsey Hall Page 0,1

too. They would think I was the killer. You could only get caught at the scene of a crime so many times before logic pointed to you, and I was getting up there. Especially when you knew things about the death that they didn’t.

But I couldn’t go. My feet refused to move.

This poor man had had his face bashed in. I’d been too late to save him, but I could find justice for him. Maybe even stop the killer from getting someone else.

It was that thought that always drove me, no matter the consequences.

I ran my gaze over the man, spotting a tiny burn mark at the base of his throat. It was shaped like a spiral.

I blinked at it, a roaring sound beginning in my ears.

That same burn mark had been found on Beatrix’s body.

Holy crap—her killer was back.

Heart racing, I pressed my fingertips to the pale skin of the man’s hand. My gift—or curse, depending on my mood—worked when I touched something. I wasn’t crazy enough to think it was magic, but I had no idea what it was. I’d never met anyone else like me.

Please work.

I needed to see something useful here.

As soon as I touched the man’s rapidly cooling skin, a vision flashed in my mind’s eye. I couldn’t choose what I saw through physical contact with something—or someone—but in cases like this, I always prayed for a look at the killer.

My breathing heaved as I tried to process the images flickering in my mind.

A tall man with broad shoulders, standing impossibly still in front of the victim. He was cast in shadow, only his icy gray eyes gleaming in the night. A million things seemed to flash in his eyes, and my head began to buzz. I felt like I was staring into the future and the past, unable to decipher any of it but knowing that there was something important there.

I dragged my attention away from his eyes. I was being a freaking weirdo.

The rest of him gave me the impression of stone—like this man had been hewn from granite. Tall and broad shouldered, everything about him screamed strength. He was as powerful and immovable as a mountain, and a shiver of fear raced over me.

But there was something about him that drew me toward him. Something so visceral that it tugged at me. A connection. Heat.

My heart sped up, and my skin warmed.

He was a killer.

Why did I feel this…this pull toward him?

Like knowledge. Like connection. Like two stars spinning through space about to collide with each other.

No.

There was every chance he was the killer.

I couldn’t see a weapon in his hand—no bat or crowbar or anything for bashing—but he’d been here at the time of the man’s death. Otherwise, I wouldn’t see him now. He shifted slightly so that light slashed across his face, revealing a sharp cheekbone and strong jaw. His lips were full—the only soft thing about him that I could see. A flash of white teeth gleamed in the darkness, two of them longer than the others. Pointed.

Fangs.

I stumbled back, my hand breaking contact with the body.

Fangs?

That was impossible. I was losing it. People didn’t have fangs.

“Come to me.” His voice rumbled with low power, and my mind spun.

“What?” I croaked. My visions never spoke to me.

“Come to me.” His voice seemed to roll through me, lighting up nerve endings that I hadn’t known existed.

Was the murderer really telling me to come to him? How?

How was this even possible?

How was any of my talent possible?

“Did you do this?” My voice trembled.

He didn’t respond, and his shadowy form disappeared.

I hated to admit what a coward I was, but relief flowed through me. The guy scared the crap out of me. My attraction to him scared the crap out of me.

He could be Beatrix’s killer. It was unacceptable

I shook my hand as if to drive off the memory of the man. But I couldn’t. I needed to see. At my feet, there was a dead man with a bashed-in face, and I could help find that killer. Nerves prickled as I touched the body again, reluctantly hoping to see the moment of death.

Nothing. The vision was gone. The man was gone.

“Damn it,” I muttered.

My gift or whatever it was didn’t come on command, and I’d just lost the thread of the vision. It hadn’t been enough to find the killer, though I’d know that man anywhere if I saw him again.

I needed more, and I needed it quick. I’d already called