by Alisha Basso
Too bad he couldn’t track me while I was in dog form.
Finally, Mrs. Layton was going out, and as soon as the door opened Fifi barked. Make a run for it, Lily.
Mrs. Layton paused and left me just enough time to slip up behind her and dash out the door. I hightailed it down the stairs, and luckily someone was coming through the front door at that very moment. I made a break for the street.
As soon as I hit the street, I saw Talon and his boys standing by their bikes. He looked just as delectable to dog eyes as he did to human, even though my color sight was impaired, and I couldn’t see red and green. But I already knew the vibrancy of him. I pranced over there…yeah, because I could.
“Where did she go? We have been watching this place for two days, 24/7. No way she slipped by us.”
Talon was talking. He looked…worried. Awww, how sweet.
“She’s cunning and she’s a witch. There are plenty of ways for her to give us the slip. We’re not infallible,” the purple-haired fae said. He had the bluest eyes, and that tri-color thing really worked for them.
“She’s definitely a witch,” Talon said, “and a pain in my ass. Her dead friend is connected to pure illegal dust. I know it.”
“What about her?”
He sighed and put his enticing, tight ass against his bike seat and slouched. Oh my goddess. I purred…umm…could dogs purr. He was…my tail started wagging. “Probably up to her pretty neck in it. If she’s guilty, she’ll have to pay the price.” There was a reluctant quality to his voice, like he hoped I wasn’t involved, but thought for sure I was.
“Death?”
My stomach jumped and I moved closer to Talon and his foot.
“Hey, ko, that dog….”
Talon looked down at me as I lifted my leg. I met his eyes. For a split second, it was almost as if he recognized me, but that was impossible. If Nock couldn’t find me in dog form, then Talon freaking Sunstrike couldn’t identify me. I cut loose and peed on his boot. Oh, yeah, because I could.
“What the hell?” he said, but missed me as he kicked out.
I laughed as I ran away which came out as staccato barks. Worth every minute.
Damn, though. To my dog senses, the scent of him was overwhelming. He still smelled like…spring.
#
I pawed for the bag under the dumpster and huffed a doggy sigh of relief to find it still there. As soon as I found the vial of salt water, I pried it open and tossed the contents onto my back. The spell broke and I found myself on the hard pavement with the vial bottle still in my mouth. It tasted salty, and since the dog senses lingered for just a few more seconds, the salt taste was intense, and the stench of garbage overwhelming enough to make me gag.
I pulled out the cloth-wrapped bundle, slipped my hand in, and immediately the black dragonscale armor slipped over my naked body. I pulled out the red coat and shrugged into it. I crouched, then stood. Leaving the alley, I hopped onto the first available transit bus. Looked like I had successfully shaken off my dust hounds.
I smiled smugly. Cunning, no? They had no idea.
Damn dust hounds.
When the bus crossed the river into St. Paul, my palms began to sweat. I got off at University Avenue, the border of what everyone called Haven’s End.
No one went down there who didn’t belong. It was a cesspool of undead vamps, shady werewolves and other creatures which only came out at night. The roughest part of the Twin Cities.
The streets were littered with trash, and I noticed the full moon looked perfectly round and heavy in the sky. There would be many pack runs tonight. So many small towns and cities had been decimated during the break of reality. Chaos had exploded, not only in the US, but all over the rest of the world.
The wilderness which had grown up around the Twin Cities was thick with feral packs. I heard the mournful howl on my left, and my atavistic reaction raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Also lurking in those woods were blood wolves, feral, dangerous beasts which never ventured too close to the cities, but slavering and hungering in the darkness. Only well-armed people went out there. Some of them didn’t return.
After discreetly asking around, I discovered Styx plied his wares on a street corner just at the outskirts of Haven’s End, not far from the University.
As I made my way into the armpit of St. Paul, the night life was in full swing. You could get anything here. The criminal element in St. Paul thrived because it would make no difference if it was eradicated. People would always find a way to get what they wanted by illegal means. At least the players in place were a known quantity.
A fae stumbled past me in the company of a vamp. Fae were creatures of light, and vamps were attracted to them in droves, just as humans were. This fae’s light had been dulled. I’d heard their blood was like cream for vamps, sweet beyond imagining, and steeped in magic.
But fae were also vulnerable to love. When they gave themselves, it was fully, and it was usually for life. Our short life spans made us humans a poor choice as a fae mate. The loss of a mate was tragic for a fae, and they usually did not survive.
The deeper I went into Haven’s End, the happier I was to be wearing the black dragonscale armor.
I spotted a vamp who was probably Styx standing beneath a weak street light, his skin smudged grey, his hair a bit unkempt. Undead vamps were more focused on getting what they needed than on worrying about their appearance. Living vamps were vibrant and retained all emotion, although it was tempered by their practicality. Undead vamps were like serial killers, their conscience silent, with only a dim echo of emotion to guide them.
The other big problem with undead vamps was their rampant sexuality. All vamps were somewhat enslaved by their sexual appetites. But the few undead vamps usually ended up being staked because, after they lost their living status, their sexual appetite increased tenfold. Fortunately there were clubs full of necro-followers who were more than happy to feed the desire of the undead.
Personally, vamps gave me the creeps. Maybe because I was fully aware they saw me as prey. A vampire’s most dangerous attack, besides their bite, was with their pheromones. A living vamp’s pheromones were very powerful, but an undead’s were nothing to mess with, either. I whispered “oblittero,” a spell I’d prepared to insulate me from the pheromones and help me avoid unconsciously attracting a vampire bite.
Yeah, turning into a vampire was not on my list of to-dos…ah…no, thanks.
“Styx?” I asked, even though I was pretty sure that’s who he was.
He turned, his eyes flashing red in the night. When he looked at me, his tongue worked his fang.
“Well, hello there, morsel.” Even with the spell in place, I still felt the pull of him, even though he disgusted me.
“Nope, not here for that. Definitely not.”
“Ah, too bad. You look delicious, the smell of your…” he sniffed the air like a hound, “…blood is…different. Potent.”
“No biting.” Even though I tried to stop myself, my stance went defensive.
He shifted and looked around, his muscles coiled. “You look like a very pretty fish out of water. You here alone?”
Every muscle in my body went on alert, tightening for possible battle. He thought he could compel me. I wasn’t so sure he couldn’t. Earth magic against the power of a vamp? I didn’t know how long it would hold up.
Leaving the alone question open-ended, I said, “Let’s just say I don’t do much hanging out in Haven’s End.”
He pushed off the light post and approached me. Since I’d already passed most of the bars, nightclubs and necro-fetish dens, the street here was pretty deserted.
His posture was guarded, which was a good sign. Since he didn’t really know if I was alone or not. I was aware I was being an idiot. Undead vamps weren’t to be approached lightly. But, at least he would be wary.
“Why you looking for me?” He circled me and I moved away from him and didn’t stop until my back hit the light post. He stood a shor
t distance away. My gut tightened and my lungs compressed. It was attack range. All he’d needed was that few short feet. His speed would take care of the rest.
“I need some information,” I said, my voice quavering just a tiny bit. But it was enough. His undead ears heard my fear even though I tried to mask it. They were predators, straight up and without apology. Living vamps lived in the community and kept their blood lust under control. When they didn’t…well, it was a job for the Blood Hunters. Undead vamps…they had no gatekeeper. I was aware of my folly just then. But I was committed to this path.
“You don’t look like a warden.” He looked around like I had some kind of sting operation going on, with the law hiding in the shadows. Must be a work-related hazard. Dealing in illegal dust was very, very dangerous. My nerves tightened at the thought. Olivia, what the hell did you get yourself mixed up in? What the hell was I doing?
“Do I look like a warden?”
“You look…appetizing,” he said low and hungry. “What information, and what are you willing to pay for it?”
I went to open my mouth and he was there, right in front of me, his index finger to my lips. “I should really say at what cost are you willing to barter? In blood? Sex? Both?” At the touch of his warm skin, which shocked the hell out of me, I stumbled back away from him, not that it would do any good. What was this? A lethal multiple choice test? “None of the above. Not on your life…make that second life, undead.”
He chuckled. “Oooh, she’s a tough little witch.” He breathed out and I snapped my second sight open. The pheromones were thick in the air, white—like mist heavy on the ground and headed right for me. I would see if my spell was going to hold.
With all the bravado I possessed, I said, confidently, “Try me.”
He cocked his head and gave me a mouthful of fang as he smiled wide. “I want to,” he said softly, provocatively, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout, “but you just said no biting.” His predatory eyes moved down my face to the throbbing beat of my pulse, his expression going rapt and hungry. “However, I’ve never been one to care about what delectable morsels prefer.”
The pheromones hit me full force and my whole body reacted. A thread of fear slid through me, turning into a sliver of delicious tension to settle deep in my groin and sensitize my skin. Goddess, I was so, so stupid. The darned spell barely worked. I met his eyes and found absolutely no remorse or compassion in them. I wanted to step back, but showing the slightest weakness now could make him even more aggressive. Damn undead!
My posture wire-tight, just barely holding myself in check against the sex-filled air and the fear-induced hysteria, I gritted my teeth, then forced my jaw to loosen. Licking my lips, I was helpless against the way they tingled. “I’m looking for information about a client of yours.” My voice came out husky and he smiled again, but I ignored it, even though my body was on fire. I pulled out my phone and held up a picture of Olivia. My throat constricted when I saw her beautiful face. My rescuer. My lifeline. It cleared my head a little.
I turned the phone around so he could see her. He blanched. Amazing. I hadn’t thought a vamp could go that white. His dark eyes widened and his posture stiffened.
“You know her.” I demanded.
He shook his head, but he was obviously lying. “I ain’t got nothing to say about her.” To my astonishment, he backed up…in fear.
“Wait, Styx,” I said desperately as he turned away. “She’s been murdered, and I need to know if you were her dust supplier.”
He turned back and his eyes returned to normal. Oh, shit, I thought. His fear of the person who killed Olivia was greater than his hunger. Oh, shit, shit. He ran a pale hand through his dark hair. “She’s dead? Fuck! I’m outta here.”
I grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “Who killed her? Do you know?”
Touching him aggressively was a totally bad idea on my part. He hissed at me, fangs very white and lethal, his hand moving with lightning speed. He picked me up like a rag doll and hurled me away from him. My back hit the pavement hard, and while the dragonscale armor protected me from any scrapes, it apparently didn’t prevent bruises. I was stunned for a moment, and before I could react, he was standing over me. His eyes were red again, but this was in aggression, not a feeding frenzy. Vamped in the blink of an eye.
I scrambled backwards and got to my feet, but it was too late. His muscles bunched and he was a blur. I gasped.
And then Talon Sunstrike was simply there, like he’d materialized out of thin air. He stood protectively in front of me, his hand pressed to the undead’s chest, effortlessly halting his charge in mid-stride. The strength required to hold off the vamp revealed in the delineation of the muscles in his arm, and his bulging biceps. He simply stopped Styx in his tracks.
In the night, amid the gloomy grittiness of Haven’s End, Talon stood out like vibrant paint splashed onto black.
His hair on fire, his skin like alabaster in contrast to the black biker leather gloving his powerful body, he smirked his bad-boy grin at the vamp. His heavy shoulder muscles coiled and, with one shove of his hand, he tossed the vamp backwards.
He turned to me, his green eyes pulsating with agitation, and said, softly, “I like that whole look you got going there, ana’astar.” He lingered with his eyes, his words as smooth as silk flowing one into the other like water. His look was pure male as his eyes went over me. Okay, he had to be reacting to the vamp pheromones, but oh my goddess, his look made my whole body want.
I was rooted to the spot partly because of that look and partly because of the shock. Why hadn’t I brought a stake with me? Because I was just going to talk to Styx, and the threat of wood wouldn’t have helped my case. Now Talon was the one in danger. I was so damn stupid.
As he stalked toward Styx, that black leather tight across his amazing ass, the studded motorcycle jacket taut across his broad shoulders, he brushed the concealing magic cloak away from the sword at his side with a flick of his fingers. I wondered what other weapons he had hidden.
He grasped the sword hilt, pulling the weapon from its ornate, tooled sheath with a ringing of metal on metal which cut through the night. Moonlight kissed the steel of the lethal blade, sending white fire burning down its length, illuminating symbols etched into the metal. Talon kept moving, going into a fighter’s crouch as he side-stepped. His awareness on me and the threat, his big body loose, he continued to circle the undead vamp. With a flick of his wrist, he twirled the sword as he moved. A rapt, deadly smile on his face, green fire sizzled and made vine-like patterns in the air from the ends of his fingertips of his free hand. The show of male aggression was more potent to me than the pheromones that Styx had been pumping into the air.
The vamp had fully recovered, his body poised in hard lines of hostility. He cocked his head one way, then the other, and I heard bones pop back into place. My fear and attempt to get away had tripped his predator buttons and he had vamped out. This undead was unleashed and at his most dangerous only matched in violence to that of the fae who tracked him.
He laughed. “The sword isn’t going to help you, fae.” His eyes flicked to me. “And, claiming the female only makes me want her more.”
He was claiming me? Oh great goddess. That’s what he was doing. The confident jerk.
“I smell your magic and the sweet scent of your blood.” He licked his lips, his tongue pink, his eyes going a deep, alarming red. “Your blood is tempered, like fine wine.” He tasted the air. “Oh, my...,” he groaned. “I’d say about a thousand years. It’s time to feed.” He closed his eyes not even bothering to track Talon visually. His heat signature would give him away. “You’ll be my main course, and as for you, little witch…” He opened his eyes and my blood froze in my veins with a primal fear of the hunted. “I’m saving room for dessert.”
“What if I use this sword to lop off your head instead, undead trash? A stake in the heart is very personal, but I like my sword. It’s the other way to kill a vampire, and it�
��s very satisfying. If you walk away now, you walk away with your life.”
If I hadn’t been attracted to this fae already, the confidence in his voice would have pretty much won me over. He might be arrogant and sarcastic, but he was also courageous.
Talon attacked, but the vamp shimmered and was gone in a blink of an eye. To my shock, Talon kept up with him. He swung his sword, and its arc was beautiful as it caught the light and glistened all the way down the blade. The undead vamp morphed away, appearing with a faint shimmer here and there as he darted around.
But, I wasn’t the only one who had underestimated Talon’s ability. He was playing with the undead. When the vamp moved, Talon anticipated and my breath caught. A master swordsman, strategist, and dust hound? He could move as fast as an undead. No wonder they were wary of the fae.
The sword sang as it blurred through the air. Only Styx’s quick reflexes saved him from losing his head. The tip of the blade caught his throat and sliced his flesh, but even as Talon moved in for the kill, the undead was gone. Talon twirled the blade and waited.
“Walk away, filth, and you live.”
The vamp materialized behind me and Talon’s face went dark and menacing. But even as he moved, Styx grabbed my hair and drove me to my knees, a jeweled dagger held at my throat.
Talon skidded to a halt, his face going tight. “Let her go, you, hallak. You hurt her and I’ll have every fae at my disposal after your worthless hide.” A closed-lipped roguish smile quirked his mouth. “I’ll hunt you down with my brethren and stake you out in the sun. I’ll hallak’en tack your scorched hide to the wall in my office.”
I met his fierce eyes, a glowing green in the darkness of Haven’s End. In them, I saw Styx’s death and my heart pounded so hard, I was sure Styx was getting off on it. Even with his dagger at my neck, I hoped Talon didn’t kill him. He was my only chance of finding out who might have killed Olivia.