“Yes…bloodlust.”
Ah, bloodlust… While the vampires they tracked down as hunters were not exactly of sound mind, bloodlust was an entirely different sort of insanity. A vampire who had fallen to bloodlust was just a mindless animal, whose only thought was to feed. Bloodlust was not easy to come back from. And if the Vampire Council became aware, the vampire likely would be taken out within the week. Which was why he doubted that Harlow had come into contact with many suffering from the condition, even if he knew of it.
His phone dinged. Foxx pulled it out of a hidden side pocket in his sunsuit. “They sent the case info.”
“Figured they would. The placeisonly an hour away.”
He scrolled through the email. “A cabin in the woods… How…unoriginal… Bloody furballs.”
The clichés and stereotypes about paranormals remained alive and well due to these assholes. Murderous vampires with their need to be in old run-down houses and…werewolves with their creepy cabins in the woods.
“Have something against werewolves?”
Foxx sighed. “Just the ones who I know are going to try to use me as a chew toy.”
“What area is the cabin in?”
“Near Lake Gallows, it says. The group has apparently done some fucked up shit. Changed some humans without permission, then let them run off and kill people. Which then got those new unwilling werewolves killed. Looks like they decided to charge them twice for the deaths of the changed humans. Not sure why… One charge is enough for a death warrant. Not to mention, you don’t actually die when you are changed into a werewolf. Probably some bullshit that carried over from the things they charge vampires with. But as this group has also just outright killed some humans, all these additional charges seem redundant and a useless waste of paperwork. Really, it’s obvious this den decided to do whatever they could to get themselves killed. If you ask me, probably a bunch of morons.”
“If it’s near Lake Gallows then it’s near my cabin,” Harlow drawled, not commenting on the rest that Foxx said.
“You have a cabin?” he asked with a frown, before a thought occurred to him. “OH! We can go back there and sleep after!”
Harlow’s expression closed down…his gaze slipping to Foxx. He narrowed his eyes at the human. If the old man thought he could say no, he better think again. No one was going to stand between Foxx and the sweet embrace of sleep.
Harlow glanced away from Foxx, ignoring the fight he saw brewing in the man’s aqua green eyes and stared at the road ahead.
Something had gone haywire…inside. His first instinct had shocked the hell out of him. Harlow had almost blurted, ‘whatever’. As if it wasn’t a huge deal to invite the vampire into a space he’d never let anyone else step foot into.
What the fuck…was wrong with him? He frowned. Was he getting too comfortable with Foxx? What was even comfortable to him?
Tony was…comfortable, he supposed. Harlow knew what made the man tick. He had some attachment to the other human. Attachment? Was that the right word? He ‘liked’ the man enough that Harlow thought it was possible if something happened to him, he’d feel something about it. He wasn’t sure what that something was… Gavin fell into the same category as Tony. Charity…in some capacity he…also…eh… That one was still debatable.
Harlow had bought the cabin a few years after he’d started hunting. As of yet, he had never let any of them step foot inside or near it. It had always been his private space, off limits to others. Even more so than his house.
So, how had Foxx, someone who he had known only a few months, entered into a category of someone who should be let into his cabin?
Harlow looked back over at Foxx. The vampire had a ‘you can’t be fucking serious right now’ expression on his face.
He cleared his throat. “Fine…we can go to the cabin afterwards.”
Foxx’s sour expression cleared into a bright lopsided smile, flashing his dimples and fang. “Perfect! So, plan! We bust in, kill them all, burn the place down, and then go to sleep!”
“Where are we busting into? I know generally where it is, but not exactly where. Put it in the GPS.” When Foxx started to mess with his phone, he quickly added, “On the dash. My car has a built-in GPS. There is no reason you would need to use your phone.”
Foxx pursed his lips. “Yes, but annoying you would have made me feel better.”
Harlow rolled his eyes. “Brat.”
The vampire started messing with his GPS, and soon he had the new coordinates up on the screen. The place was a maximum of two miles from where his cabin was.
He eyed Foxx when the vampire started to just stare out the window, glaring at the sun instead of reading off the case file. “You planning to tell me more about the case, or just continue your silent fight with the sun?”
“The fight is never silent,” Foxx drawled, eyes slowly pulling away from the fiery ball. He looked down at his phone. “There are five death warrants. I explained a little already, but in a brief summary, they killed some people. Illegally infected some others, that they then let loose on the general public. Those wolves were put down by the police, due to them running around murdering people indiscriminately in broad daylight, because you know the newly transformed can’t control themselves for shit. Anyway, there is a note from Charity saying they want the five dead as fast as possible before they infect more people.” Foxx’s head tilted. “You know, them adding pictures of the wolves transformed…isn’t as helpful as they probably think it is. Actually, it's pretty pointless. Transformed werewolves, besides maybe their coloring, don’t look that different from each other.”
Yeah, he’d never found the pictures that helpful either. But one of the requirements for shifters when registering for P.E.A.R. was to provide pictures of all their forms. Usually, Harlow just assumed that if a shifter was at the same location as the rest of the den, not to mention, trying to kill him, they were likely guilty.
“Just five?” Harlow asked, brow raised. Not that werewolves weren’t a pain in the ass, but two hunters for five werewolves was overkill. Seemed like a waste of money to him.But what did he know? He was just a ‘dumb’ hunter. The people in Washington knew better than him, he thought sarcastically.
