Free Hunger by Felicity Heaton

needed to make her see that life as a vampire could be so much better than she knew, that from this point on, no one was going to hurt her. Never again.
    He would see to that.
    Tor packed his things away, carefully compartmentalising his weapons, taking his time to give both himself and Eve some space to breathe.
    Did she find the heat that flared between them whenever they looked at each other, the incredible awareness, as unsettling as he did?
    She was a hunter too. She had probably lived her life in a similar fashion to him, although she hadn’t been alone.
    He had been trained from the outset to work alone, to maintain his distance from everyone and avoid intimacy.
    They had trained him to hunt and kill his mission targets, and to withstand torture, to do whatever it took to complete his orders without feeling a shred of emotion.
    Just as Eve had been trained to despise vampires, to track and slay them without remorse.
    They were both products of their training, both changed by it, and he had no doubt that they were now both experiencing a sensation of weakness and vulnerability, uncertainty, because of what they were feeling.
    Attraction. Desire. Passion.
    A hunger so deep it consumed them.

CHAPTER 6
    “ T or?”
    Tor turned as her soft voice invaded his turbulent thoughts and looked across the hotel room at her where she stood by the window, one hand holding the pale curtain aside and the other arm wrapped around her waist, clutching the white towel robe over her hip. Her dark gaze remained steady on the outside world.
    “How are we going to find them?”
    He zipped his bag closed, carried it to the armchair near the bathroom and set it down next to Eve’s. “Did they move around when you were with them?”
    She nodded. “They never stayed in the same place twice either, and their choices were very different each time. Sometimes we were in a basement, sometimes in a whole building in the countryside, and sometimes we were in a loft apartment. It was never the same sort of place, and never a similar location.”
    Not good news.
    He had done his share of tracking weaklings and sometimes it had taken months to find their homes. Unlike the pureblood families, weaklings didn’t have the money to buy themselves status and a comfortable, secure home, and they didn’t have the strength to defend it even if they could. His kind had hunted them mercilessly, driving them to skulk in the shadows and lurk in places most purebloods wouldn’t lower themselves to visit, ones suited to their kind.
    Rats. Cockroaches. Weaklings were the worst sort of vermin.
    “Did you overhear anything that gave you a clue to your next location?” He moved across the room to her. The sun was rising now and if she stood there in front of the window much longer, she was going to get more than a tan.
    Tor pulled the curtain free of her hand and his thumb brushed hers. She tensed, a soft gasp escaping her at the same time as a jolt ran up his arm, a rush of heat and electricity. He tamped down the reaction and the hunger it and her proximity stirred within him, and closed the curtain, smoothing it down to make sure there were no cracks where the sun could penetrate.
    “Once maybe. They didn’t talk in front of me often. They kept me away from the others.” She walked to the bed and sat on the end of it, her white robe blending into the sheets. “After I escaped them, I spent time preparing myself and tracking them while I formulated my plan to take them down. I would spy on them for information I might be able to use, but I can’t remember anything important. Nothing that could help us now.”
    “Nothing at all?” Tor dragged the armchair from the corner across the room and set it in front of her. He sat in it, leaned forwards, and rested his elbows on his knees.
    Her face scrunched up and she was silent for long minutes before saying, “I did hear them talking once about something, but it didn’t make sense. Something about little walls