He did have it altered, that was not a lie… And…Tonyhadsaid no, but what Tony doesn’t know… Well, the man couldn’t really stop him from using any weapon, besides maybe explosives. It was just that the fucking bullets hadn’t arrived untilafterhis house blew up.
But instead of saying all that…Harlow shrugged, and instantly regretted it. Wincing, he rubbed at his back. “Fuck.”
“I don’t think you’re fine…”
“I’m fine.”
“Maybe you should sit the rest out, old man?”
“Fuck off, I’m fine. I just pulled something.”
“The last time you told me you were fine, you passed out due to a hole in your back.”
Harlow rolled his eyes. “Let’s go.” He stomped forward before stopping and waving Foxx on, since the vampire was the one who knew where Kinley was. “Move it, shorty.”
Foxx tsked, dropped the box of bullets in his belly pocket, rested the gun on his shoulder and walked past him down the hall. Passing a few closed doors, the man stopped by the only one that was slightly ajar.
Following Foxx inside, at the first sight of the man he assumed they were looking for…Harlow could tell they’d have two bodies to haul back.
Hunter Kinley Clines was passed out, his limbs bound, lying in a puddle of his own blood on top of a large, but rather low desk. His black hair looking as if it had been attacked by a pair of scissors, the man’s feet and hands were covered in burn marks, his eyes swollen, and it appeared that every major artery had been severed on top of the various stab wounds all over his body. The worst and largest injury looked to be the one on his chest, which was a bloody mess of torn flesh and bone. The vampire was breathing…but barely.
“He’s…dying. What… How… How the fuck was he ever approved for work?!” Foxx snarled.
At the accusing tone of the vampire’s voice, Harlow glanced at the man in question, brow raising on finding Foxx glaring at the dying vampire. There was this odd shiny look to his eyes, the same one he’d seen back when the vampire was confronting the newly transformed werewolf. Harlow’s best guess was that this was a sign of Foxx using his bloodline powers.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“He’s not even fifty yet!”
Brow pinched, he pointed out, “I mean…neither am I?”
“You don’t understand! He’s younger than you! Even if he was the same age, he shouldn’t be here! The council forbid it!” Foxx cried. “They approved this escapade, but forbid anyone under a hundred from joining!”
“Is there a reason?”
“Because vampires under that age haven’t had a chance to develop their abilities yet. He is too young to deal with what we have to deal with. He should have been rejected on age alone.”
“Even if the Guild has set an age requirement based on your council’s recommendation…you know as well as I do that you all can, and do, lie.”
Foxx cursed.
Kinley’s eyes suddenly snapped open, and he let out a terrified scream. Foxx moved swiftly. One second he was by him, and the next, he was by Kinley's side. Setting down the Tommy Gun on the floor, Foxx grasped hold of one of the man’s still bound hands.
“It’s okay, Kinley, we are hunters. They are gone. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
“D-dying,” the vampire rasped, before starting to cough, blood spraying from his mouth.
Harlow slowly approached as Foxx brushed the man’s sweat-soaked bangs from his eyes. “It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Foxx lied.
Staring down at the two, Harlow…felt nothing. That he felt nothing made him glad that Foxx was here to deal with…this.
“M-my f-fault,” the young vampire spluttered.
“What is?” Foxx asked softly.
“Hanes…” The vampire sobbed. “R-ran a-way.”
Harlow’s jaw clenched. “Hanes would never run,” he ground out. Even if he hadn’t been friends with Hanes, he wouldn’t let the man’s name be slandered—even if just for Tony’s sake.
