Still, there were plenty of paranormals that were only about as strong as humans. Of course, those ones did try to stay a bit hidden still.
“Good, good, you are free to go,” Tony said with a smile. “Happy to have you on board.”
Foxx nodded. “I’ll head out now then. Call me when you need me.” He walked over, grabbed his coat from the coat rack and pulled it on. Bundling up, he waved goodbye as he left.
He shivered once as he stepped into the night air. It was mid-sixties out. It wasn’t cold, in a technical sense, but…he was still cold. Vampires didn’t really hold in body heat well, so anything under seventy was cold to him. Hell, Foxx would even say seventy was too cold, preferring it to be at least seventy-five Fahrenheit.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped off the pavement and headed for his car. His gaze was focused on the night sky. The light pollution hid the stars, but the moon was shining brightly down. “Ah, I’m so excited. A new adventure is just around the corner! I just know it!” he said happily to himself.
Foxx had been so bored as of late. This was the perfect change of pace. Just what he needed to draw him away from wanting to sleep for a few centuries. And if it happened to be just as boring as regular life… Well, at least he had a hot-ass hunter to look at while he was doing it.
Harlow’s vacation home was located right by Gally Falls, inside the town of West Gally. It was about an hour west of Houndside Hazard. The forest in this area was thick and lush, and his property was right along the edges of Lake Gallow, the lake that Gally Falls poured into. It should have been calm and relaxing, and yet…no such relaxation was happening.
Harlow glared out over the water, trying with all his might to blank his mind like he usually did when he fished. But anytime he was close to that calming emptiness, Foxx’s face popped into his head.
“Damn government!” he cursed. Sitting his fishing pole down in the holder he'd rigged up next to him, Harlow stretched his arms over his head, grunting as his joints popped.
Sagging, he sighed. Why did the idiots in charge always love to fuck with things they had no business fucking with? What the hell did they know about hunting?
Shit, what the fuck was Harlow going to do with a partner? He’d been working alone since the beginning. Oh, sure, there had been a few times he’d teamed up with a fellow hunter who just happened to end up on the same job. But to have to be near someone all the time?
Harlow shuddered—fuck. He rubbed his eyes and stared out across the water at the setting sun. What was he going to do? The more twisted part of his mind whispered,kill him.
Harlow rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Yeah, I do that and I'd get myself a one-way ticket to jail. Because the first person Tony would look at if Foxx went missing would definitely be me.”
He shook his head. It would be fine. This was just a minor irritation. Okay, more like a major irritation. But Harlow could work with Foxx. They just needed to stay out of each other’s way. Do their job, and not bother each other. And everyone would survive… Well, they would survive.
Why did he have a sinking feeling that Foxx wouldn’t know how to not bother someone even if he’d been given step-by-step instructions.
Foxx’s face flashed in his mind again, with his stupid crooked smile, wide eyes, and dimples. He groaned loudly. What the fuck was he supposed to do with a partner who was as intimidating as a toddler?
Sighing, Harlow stood. He no doubt had scared away all the fish already, so he might as well head back to his cabin for the night. Shaking his head, Harlow gathered his gear and headed up the docks to the house. He had caught nothing. He’d been too loud and too distracted—oh well.
Following the large stone path, he reached the one-story, two-bedroom log and stone cabin quickly. It was a minute's walk at most.
Opening the door, he stored his gear and headed to the bedroom, stripping down when he reached it before going straight for the shower. Turning it on, he stood there nude, waiting for the steam to rise, his mind once again on the issue of his new partner.
Harlow sighed and stepped inside, groaning in pleasure when the hot water hit his body.
A new partner—a newvampirepartner. It was fine, right? It wasn’t like he killed every vampire he came across. Unlike many hunters, he didn't have an overwhelming sense of superiority over them. Harlow didn’t see them as abominations. They were dangerous, true, but he knew for a fact they weren’t soulless or undead, even though most denominations of Christianity still pushed that, mainly the Catholics.
But Harlow had never taken crosses, and other Christian memorabilia, working as proof that vampires were evil. Many had…
Jokes on them. It just turned out that the Christian God hated the Night Goddesses, who had created vampires. To be honest, when paranormals had finally come into the light, into being common knowledge, the things they had learned about them had been more startling to Harlow than when he first discovered that they were real.
While he had an inkling that some sort of higher being existed, due to the whole crosses and holy water actually burning vampires, he had to admit that actually knowing for sure that other Gods and Goddesses were very real was…pretty fucked.
He closed his eyes, leaning forward to let the water run through his hair.
Anyway, things would be fine. Working beside a vampire was not a problem. Dealing with Foxx, however…he wasn’t so sure. Why the hell did he dress like that?
* * *
Foxx snuggledagainst his best friend on the large teal sofa in his living room.This place was a good purchase, he thought, eyeing the room to distract himself from what Alastair had just asked him. The ground floor of his home had some closed-off rooms, but also a large open-concept space that held his kitchen, dining area, and living room. He had a beautiful view of the city with floor-to-wall windows on one side. The space for the living room was also big enough that he had gotten to create two lounging spaces. One to chat with friends, and the other for pure entertainment, with a TV and all those other fancy game technologies they had out nowadays.
“Foxx!” Alastair snapped as he jostled him with his shoulder, irritating Foxx enough to sit up and glare at him.
Alastair was his tall, sexy, model-like best friend. The man stood just under six-foot at five-foot-eleven, had a slightly thicker build than a swimmer, and skin as pale as Foxx’s, but no freckles. The vampire had high cheekbones, a pointed nose, a gently rounded chin, pouty lips, and a pair of startling light gray eyes. His dark brown hair was asymmetrical, prim and proper short on the left side that turned into a mass of brown curls on the right, reaching past his ear and ending around his lips. Alastair was wearing a dark emerald green turtleneck and a pair of black cord trousers. Unlike Foxx, Alastair’s accent wasn’t as thick. And he could hide it if he wanted to, unless he was angry. Foxx didn’t know how he’d gotten rid of it. The man had come over to the States much earlier than him, but still…
