by Shéa MacLeod
A single swipe and Kabita took the heads off two, while I went after a third. Machetes worked wonders on young Zagan demons, their slimy hides not having completely hardened yet. I felt the blade as it slid into the soft tissue behind the skull, then scraped through spine, parting it like a knife through hot butter. Its head popped off and rolled across the alley.
We were done in less than ten minutes and I didn’t even get spattered. I pulled out my bottle of holy water, sprinkled some on the bodies and watched them melt. In seconds there was nothing left but smoking stains among the multitude of other stains on the grimy cement.
“Well.” Kabita smiled, wiping demon goo off her machete. “That was a good night’s work. Creepy little things.”
I wrinkled my nose at the foul stench from what little was left of the Zagans. “Yeah, I definitely prefer vampires. Not nearly as messy.”
“Just be thankful they weren’t spitting slime all over the place. That stuff stings when it hits skin. You want a ride home?” She waved at her pride and joy, a vintage 1941 Harley Davidson.
I shuddered. I was not a big fan of motorcycles. Plus she drove like a bat out of hell. “Thanks, but I think I’ll walk.”
She shrugged. “Sure. Be sure to drop by the office tomorrow morning. We need to send Darroch an update on your Sunwalker adventures.”
“Yeah, sure thing.” Right, my non-existent Sunwalker adventures. Oh, the joy.
The moon was bright, nearly full, and the night air had just an edge of crispness to it. I loved walking at night. Sometimes in the dark and quiet it felt like I was the only one left in the whole world.
I turned down 10th, which was a little darker than the main street. A high, stone wall ran along the sidewalk. I could smell the roses and honeysuckle in the garden behind the wall. I stopped for a minute, just to breathe in the heady scent and let the night seep into my soul.
That’s when it happened.
He came out of nowhere, slamming me up against the wall with enough force to rattle my teeth. I didn’t even feel him coming. I was not exactly a lightweight, yet he picked me up like I was no more than a child. I went for my stiletto, but he snagged my wrist in a vise-like grip. Oh, damn, but I was in trouble.
Chapter Six
He leaned forward, slowly. His eyes were aquamarine, like the Pacific Ocean on a hot summer afternoon. Little gold lights flickered in their depths, dancing like dust motes in the sun. For half a second, I forgot I was in mortal danger. His eyes were that mesmerizing. His scent, a heady mix of spice and sun and man, swirled around me, sending my already overactive libido into overdrive.
My heart beat hard in my chest, my blood hot and thick. Desire pooled low in my belly. All I wanted to do was breathe in his scent, wrap myself up in it until I drowned.
I swallowed hard and tried to distract myself by staring at his mouth. Bad move. He had the most delicious mouth I’d ever seen: full lips, soft as velvet, absolutely perfect for all sorts of naughty things. I gave myself a mental head slap. Obsessing over the enemy’s mouth was so not a good idea.
Then he leaned even closer. Shit. He was going for my throat and I couldn’t even move. Didn’t want to move. Vampires weren’t supposed to posses that kind of power. Vampiric mind control was another myth Hollywood drummed up. Vamps didn’t need mind control to subdue their victims. The only power they needed was strength and speed. They just grabbed and bit.
But he didn’t bite. Instead, his breath caressed my ear, my neck. Was he? He was! He was sniffing me. Then I felt his lips move gently back and forth over my skin, just above my carotid artery. Heck, he was tasting me, for crying out loud. Those lips of his were made for sin and they were most definitely doing really sinful things against my throat. My legs went a little rubbery and I actually had to grab on to his rather impressive biceps in order not to end up on my ass.
This was ridiculous. Badass vampire hunters did not go all gooey over a vampire no matter how sexy he was, which was a weird concept since vampires were, by nature, not at all sexy.
When he spoke, his voice was melted chocolate with the faintest hint of an accent I couldn’t quite place running like caramel ribbons all through it. “Little girl,” he breathed, sending shivers up and down my spine. Vin Diesel had nothing on this guy. “You do not know who you are messing with.”
I struggled to maintain some sense of decorum, but I was pretty sure I squeaked. I cleared my throat and tried again. Badass vampire hunters did not squeak.
Damn, those eyes, that voice! He was turning me into a big puddle of melted goo without even breaking a sweat. My fingers itched to explore places other than his biceps. Not good.
“Sure, I do. You’re just another pathetic vampire hopped up on junkie blood.” Vampires were strong and fast, but not as strong or as fast as this one. Junkie blood was the only thing that explained it. Vamps couldn’t get high off drugs like humans, but they could get high if they took the blood of someone who was on drugs.
He pressed that rock hard body of his up against me and laughed softly in my ear. His laugh did things to me down low and my thighs clenched. My libido did a happy dance. Something it was definitely not supposed to do in the presence of a vampire. Come to think of it, my vampire radar wasn’t going off at all. What in blazes was this guy?
I thrust my chin out, hoping I looked tough and macho instead of the quivering mass of Jell-O I actually was. “You’re no vamp. Who are you?” My eyes narrowed. “What are you?”
He grinned in a way that I was pretty sure was illegal in at least 14 different states then leaned forward to sniff me again before whispering in my ear, “Darlin’.” His rich voice was the stuff of dreams. “You’ve just found your Sunwalker.”
Well, hot damn.
***
After making me promise not to try killing him until we’d had a chance to talk, he led me to the nearest coffee shop. Common Grounds was a uniquely Portland experience and one of my favorite places to relax with a cup of coffee. It was stuffed full of comfy couches and mismatched mugs and smelled of roasted coffee beans and fresh grilled toast. Best of all, it was open from 5 a.m. to midnight. It would have been even better if it was a twenty-four hour place, but sometimes you just had to take what you could get.
Fortunately the place was nearly empty and we found a table far enough away from everyone that we wouldn’t be overheard. I couldn’t imagine what the other patrons would think of our conversation. Though it was the Hawthorne District. Creative weirdness was the norm. They’d probably think we were rehearsing for a play.
I was pretty sure the Sunwalker was humoring me with that whole promising-not-to-kill-him thing, since I was beginning to doubt my original plan to get the amulet and dust him was going to work. In fact, I wasn’t sure I could dust him. He was far too strong and fast, and that weird mind control thingy had me worried.
Nothing about this guy was anything like I expected. I’d imagined him as another run of the mill bloodsucker. Only one who could walk around in daylight. This guy was nothing like any vampire I’d ever seen.
The Sunwalker wasn’t a creepy monster that hung around in dark corners. No, this guy owned his space. I eyed his broad shoulders, muscular frame and seriously tight backside as he paced the room in front of the bank of windows overlooking the street.
Oh, yeah, I bet he owned anything he wanted to. An opinion no doubt shared by the barista who was ogling his butt as eagerly as I was. Poor girl was practically salivating. I surreptitiously checked to make sure I wasn’t doing the same.
The weirdest thing of all was that he felt familiar. I didn’t recognize him, so I knew I’d never seen him before. I never forgot a face. But it felt like I knew him, or that I should know him.
“OK.” I straightened my shoulders. No way was I letting this … Sunwalker get to me. “So, Mr. Sunwalker, have you got a name?”
He glanced up, startled, and then gave me a grin, flashing a pair of canines that were slightly longer than strictly necessary, but nothing in t
he realm of vampire. “Jackson. Jackson Keel. You can call me Jack.”
Jack? A Sunwalker named Jack? That was almost as bad as Bob. “Morgan Bailey. Nice to, uh, meet you.” Right. Let’s go with that. “OK, Jack, why don’t you sit down and explain to me why you found it necessary to scare the shit out of me. And while you’re at it, you might as well tell me why you stole my client’s property.”
I tried to give him a severe look a la Kabita, but it wasn’t working. It was that mouth. Sweet baby Jesus, he had such a mouth. It made me want to do very bad things. There really should have been a law.
I cleared my throat and stiffened my spine, dragging on my professional vampire hunting aura with all the willpower I could muster. I folded my hands primly in front of me and waited. This was a Kabita trick. Unfortunately, she was a lot better at it than I was.
He just smirked at me, the big fat jerk. “First off,” he said in that voice that also should have been outlawed, “I wanted to make sure you understood just how difficult killing me would be.” Score one for him. I was seriously rethinking this whole dusting thing. Hell, I hadn’t even been able to find him, never mind kill him.
“Uh, yeah. I get that. And secondly?”
“Secondly, I didn’t steal the amulet from Darroch. He stole it from me.”
I blinked. Well, that was a turn of events. “Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “Likely story. Let me guess. You inherited it from your grandmother.”
His eyes darkened. “It was entrusted to me by a friend a long time ago.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “I swore to protect it. I failed. I’ve been tracking Darroch ever since.”
I honestly couldn’t imagine this guy, this Sunwalker, failing at anything. My mind was reeling with questions. If I was honest, very few of them at that moment had anything at all to do with the amulet and everything to do with the sexy piece of man standing in front of me.
I sucked in a breath. The strong aroma of roasted coffee beans grounded me somewhat. I felt a little more solid, but still embarrassingly gooey around the edges. I took a sip of my latte, and then tightened my fingers around the ceramic coffee mug, letting the heat seep into my hands. My silver ring cut into my finger just a bit. This was all feeling a little surreal.
I tried desperately not to focus on his mouth. Honestly, he must have some weird voodoo Sunwalker powers or something. His mouth truly couldn’t be that sexy. It just wasn’t right. Every time I looked at him I wanted to nibble on his lower lip. It was embarrassing. I was a Hunter, for crying out loud.
I gave myself another mental head slap. I was going to have a psychic bruise if I wasn’t careful.
I curled one leg under me and sank back into the comfy couch, mug clutched to my chest. “So, this amulet, why would Darroch claim you stole it and hire me to get it back from you if he’s the one that has it?” Good. Logic was good. When in doubt, attempt logic.
“I would have thought that was obvious.” His voice dripped disdain. I wasn’t sure if it was for me or for Darroch.
OK, right. Obvious. Now, normally I was reasonably good at obvious, but unfortunately in this case my brain had long ago turned to mush. I flashed his backside another look as he strode by me again. Oh, gods, I was in trouble.
“He wants me dead.” Jack’s voice was completely flat. No anger, no fear, no nothing. Just the facts, ma’am.
“Why would he care?” Honestly, what was one Sunwalker in the world of Brent Darroch?
He shrugged. “Perhaps he’s afraid I’ll get the amulet back. That I’m all that stands between him and absolute power.”
“Absolute power. Seriously? Melodramatic much?”
He paused to give me a glare before continuing his long strides back and forth across the dark tiles of the coffee shop. I caught the barista drooling again. “He probably also thinks he has a score to settle, taking the amulet from me wasn’t enough.” He raked his fingers through his dark hair.
I shook my head. Men and their macho bullshit. “OK, fine, whatever. So he wants you dead. That still doesn’t prove the amulet belongs to you.”
“Then maybe this will.” He strode across the floor and leaned over, right in my face. I wasn’t sure whether I should hold my ground or run like hell. What I did know was that, despite everything, I suddenly had the irresistible urge to plant a big, sloppy kiss right on that mouth of his. Down girl!
From the looks of things, a very similar thought had just crossed his mind. Oh, man, was I in trouble. He shook his head slightly then slapped his palm on the scarred wooden table. In his hand was a photograph.
Now, I’d seen nineteenth and early twentieth century photographs. In fact, I used to collect them as a kid. I’d look at them for hours on end, imagining the lives of the people in them, making up stories about their adventures. What could I say? I’d always been a little weird.
The Sunwalker’s photo was definitely nineteenth century, late nineteenth century, from the looks of it. I could tell by the style of clothing. Only instead of some random long-lost relative staring back at me, the face was an exact replica of Jack’s.
I gaped from the Sunwalker to the photo and back again. It didn’t just look like Jack, it was Jack. Right down to the tiny scar on his chin. I wondered vaguely what could cause a scar on a Sunwalker. Did they have the same healing abilities as vampires? Or did Jack get the scar before he was turned? Something I should probably find out.
Then my attention was caught by something else in the old sepia toned photo. Around Jack’s neck on a thin chain hung an amulet. The same amulet Darroch had shown me a picture of a few days before. The supposedly worthless one he claimed the Sunwalker had stolen only recently. Yet here Jack was wearing it in a photograph taken over one hundred years ago.
A lot could happen in a hundred years, sure. He could have lost the amulet in a card game, sold it, anything. But I strongly doubted it with that same sixth sense that had saved my ass on more than one occasion. Darroch had claimed his family had owned the amulet for generations. Granted, one hundred years was a lot of generations, but still.
“Nice pic.” I handed it back to him. “Ever hear of Photoshop?”
He smiled. “I thought you might say that.” He handed me another photo. It was a Polaroid. An old one. Circa the 1970s.
Jack was lounging against the side of a hippie van wearing a pair of bellbottoms and a ridiculous vest thing covered in beadwork. Around his neck was the amulet from the previous photo.
I glanced up at Jack. As far as I knew, Polaroids couldn’t be faked. Damn.
Something about the Sunwalker, Jack, made me want to believe him. Trust him. I knew it was crazy and probably really stupid, but part of me honestly believed he was telling the truth. The other part wondered if my anti-vamp mojo was on the fritz and I’d finally fallen for some weird vampire glamour that nobody knew about.
“Listen, you gotta stop that if you want me to believe you.” I put on my stern Kabita-voice. It usually worked.
“Stop what?” His voice was getting dangerously loud and this time he ran his hands through his dark hair so vigorously I was afraid he would pull it right out. Instead, it just ended up spiking out in every direction as though he’d had a run in with a light socket. And dammit, it made him even sexier. I groaned. This just wasn’t fair.
“That.” I waved an arm around, nearly upsetting my coffee cup. “Just stop.”
“Woman!” His voice held an edge of warning like he expected me to obey him. I didn’t respond well to being ordered around.
“Don’t you ‘woman’ me, mister. This is the twenty-first century. Not the, the … um. When were you, um …?” I trailed off. I had no idea how old he was and it seemed somewhat indelicate to ask ‘Oh, by the way, how old are you anyway?’
“Turned?” he offered with some irritation.
That worked. “Sure, yeah, turned.”
He smiled a little. I seemed to amuse him an awful lot. “Not long before the Second Crusade.”
I blinked. “Second Crusade? As i
n the Christian Crusades?”
He gave me a “duh” look.
Good grief. That made him over 900 years old. Talk about having the hots for an older man. This was just ridiculous.
“The Crusades. Right. Anyway, you’re not allowed to treat women like that anymore.”
He looked about ready to throttle me, which was fine. He was causing me a great deal of discomfort. I figured he deserved a bit of the same.
I’d like to point out that I was not really as hormonal as I sounded. I mean, OK, yeah, I sort of had the hots for Inigo, but on a general level, you know. Like, come on, he’s hot. And he’s such a flirt, I just couldn’t help it. It’s like having the hots for … Gerard Butler. He’s extremely yummy, but you knew nothing would ever happen because, well, Gerard Butler was famous and frankly I was not. Same thing with Inigo, except for the famous part. He was Kabita’s cousin and Kabita would seriously kill me.
And now I was having the hots for a Sunwalker. But honestly, could you blame me? I didn’t think so. Hot didn’t even begin to cover it. His extreme hotness was so totally overwhelming I was about to go into serious meltdown any minute. I had to refrain from fanning myself.
I really didn’t want him to know his pheromones or whatever were getting to me. “Listen. Forget it, OK? I’m really tired and I want to go home.” And I needed to think about this whole weird plot twist. “What is it you want from me?”
He leaned in really slowly until he was staring straight in my eyes and I could feel his breath warm on my face. For a minute, I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he said, “I want you to get my amulet back.”
I sucked in a breath. “OK, right and Darroch?”
The grin on his face scared me a little. “Oh, once you find my amulet, I’ll take care of Darroch.” The way he said it sent shivers down my spine, and not the good kind of shivers, either.
Great. Just great. My client had turned out to possibly be the bad guy and now the former bad guy wanted to wring the current possible bad guy’s neck. Kabita was so not going to be pleased with this turn of events.