Chapter one
Jack
Staticfromthecommsdevice crackled in my ear. I resisted the urge to take it out to scratch my ear, knowing I’d get chewed out for it. My ears were still ringing from the lecture I’d gotten about my lack of proper gear.
It wasn’t my fault I’d had to torch my gear after the last mission. Werewolf blood and guts were a bitch to clean off.
Crouched behind a car, I shifted in place, anticipation thrumming in my veins. The smell of spilled oil and the drying wet pavement filled my nose, and the faint scent of my teammates surrounding me lingered just on the edge. My hands carefully tightened my ponytail, the thick curly black hair almost too wild to keep tamed, as my eyes squinted in the dark of the street.
Normally, the streetlights would have lit the way for our crew, but it seemed the city maintenance didn’t give two shits about this part of town, leaving the first two blocks with only a sliver of light from the moon.
The crackling of the comm again in my overly sensitive ears made me wince. Unlike the other hunters, who only had a heightened sense of smell, all my senses were in hyper overdrive. I didn’t need the comm, I could hear the echo of our team leader as he whispered from a few feet in front of me.
Unfortunately, the last time I reminded them of that earned me a long-winded lecture on the aspects of being a team player.
“There’s nine vamps,” the gruff, cultured voice of our team leader, Julian Fawley, explained.
“Brayman, Ives, take the north entrance. Ashcraft and McDowel? You guard the back entrance. Durand, you’re with me.”
The coinciding voices grunted their agreement, but I didn’t answer as irritation filled me.
Every hunt, every fucking hunt in the last six months, I’d gotten paired up with Julian. It didn’t matter whether I was stronger or faster than any of the other hunters. It didn’t matter that, out of the whole of the hunter’s guild, I knew the insides and out of the monsters above everyone else. They still treated me as if I were breakable, unreliable. Even with a legendary kill rate. Even with —
“Durand?” Impatience filled Julian’s voice. “You got that?”
The desire to avoid a lecture overrode my irritation. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Was that attitude I just heard in your voice?” Julian’s tone turned firm and, even though it was dark, I could practically see the firm set of his jaw, the narrowing of his crystal blue eyes.
Suddenly, I was in a different time. A different place.
Rain poured outside. The coppery scent of blood, my blood, filled the air. That firm yet gentle voice commanded me with each thrust, each grip of his hands on my hips. One of the few times I’d ever had to retreat from a fight had turned into the oneand only time anyone had ever touched me like I was wanted and not just something to be protected.
“Durand!”
I jerked out of the memory and huffed. “No, sir.”
There was a reason they told you not to eat where you shit, because eventually they’d end up being your commanding officer and up your ass in a completely not fun way.
There was silence for a moment, telling me that I’d still be in for a lecture when we got back to base. Then Julian spoke again.
“Just like we practiced. Flash bomb first, then we go in on three. Ready?”
A chorus of consent echoed back.
I slipped my blades from their sheaths, holding the warm metal in each hand as anticipation had my heart thumping. I drew in a few long breaths, letting them filter out of me until my heartbeat slowed.
Vampires might not be able to hear me through the walls of the building before us and the few yards back I’d been stationed. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t. Living around vampires my whole life made me hyper aware of my own pulse and scent and, in some cases, thoughts. Any one of them would give away secrets I didn’t want to give.
“Move!” Julian’s voice cracked through the comm, and we snapped out like a bullet.
Two figures circled the back of the building. The other pair found their place at the front door, waiting for the moment they could go racing in. I pulled up next to Julian near a window where he crouched, prepared to throw in the flash bomb.
In the dim light coming from inside the building, I could make out the deep furrow of his brows, his blond hair tied up into a low bun, and the scruff of his beard covering his jaw line and surrounding the thin press of his lips. While Julian had instructed me to come with him, he wasn’t happy about it.
“You should have borrowed someone’s flak jacket at least.” His gaze slipped over my black outfit.
A fitted long-sleeved shirt covered me from neck to wrists, my wrist sheaths strapped over each forearm. Cargo pants were belted at the waist, a handful of tools hidden in the numerous pants pockets. The only part of my uniform I’d been able to wear was my boots. Fortunately, the black wasn’t that hard to match with anything in my closet.
