Slipping on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, I try to push all thoughts of Kallie from my mind.
For hours, I pace the room like a caged animal, her scent clinging to the air, to me. Every time I try to focus on the mission, her violet eyes flash in my mind. It’s a deliberate effort to turn away when the setting sun paints the window orange, to force my hands to the familiar work of strapping the last dagger into its chest holster.
Grabbing my leather jacket off the coat hook, I sling it over my shoulder and make my way to the lobby.
Much to my relief, Kallie is too busy with a couple checking in to notice me.
Good.
I need answers.
Not distractions.
Besides, if Stark is watching her as closely as I think he is, I’ll have other opportunities.
The thought doesn’t concern me. It settles in my gut like a stone, a cold piece of certainty.
But fuck, I can’t let the bastard slip away. He’s hiding something. I can feel it in my bones.
And when the sun sets?
That’s when the monsters come out to play.
I check the time. Prime hunting hours. I push through the hotel’s revolving door and melt into the evening crowds. The city air is crisp, carrying the scents of exhaust and street food, but underneath it, I hunt for something else—the faint, cloying sweetness of a vamp too careless to mask its trail.
The hair on the back of my neck rises.
I glance around me, not seeing anything out of the ordinary, but then creatures have learned how to blend in.
It’s how they’ve evaded human detection for millennia.
I pause under a flickering streetlight, glancing down the dim alley to my left. A scrape, a shift of shadow. It could be a stray animal, but a cold prickle runs up my spine. The air tastes wrong. Predator. I flex my fingers, ready to reach for my blades.
My fingers glide over my right hip, activating my speed rune as I take careful steps down the brick path between two deserted buildings.
A figure detaches itself from the deeper shadows, moving with predatory grace into the pool of light. I recognize him instantly.
My right hand yanks a dagger from its sheath as my left slaps the strength rune on my neck, activating both in one fluid motion.
In a blink, my blade is pressed against Stark’s neck.
One corner of his lips tip up into a smirk. “Fancy meeting you here, little hunter,” Stark says, his posture relaxed despite the blade at his throat. “Say, what are you doing in this part of town?”
The small wound knits itself together before my next breath. Must be fucking nice. Goddamn bloodsuckers.
“Don’t fucking move, you bastard. I’ll be the one asking the questions tonight.”
“Oh, will you?”
“Seeing as I’m the one with the advantage? Yes. And none of that bullshit vague information either. Now tell me what you know about the Guild attacks.”
Stark’s eyes darken. “You have the advantage, do you?”
That’s when I feel the pressure below my ribs.
Glancing down confirms there’s a sharp claw poised directly above my heart.
Fuck.
