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Prey till the End (The Endangered Series Book 3)

Page 12

by S. L. Eaves


  “Why do you hunt your own kind?” he asks, scanning the dance floor.

  He doesn't have to raise his voice over the din of the crowd and the music, one benefit to both species is enhanced hearing. We can speak softly without risking any unwanted ears. Unless the other vampire is nearby.

  “I don't. Didn't. Until this recent surge of attacks. It doesn't benefit either side to have public attacks like this. We have access to alternative blood sources, what these vampires are doing is for sport, for fun. It's not for survival...” The events from earlier cast a shadow over my words. “Not that that would excuse it either. Mostly I just want to prevent exposure and the subsequent mass-panic these killings risk. Same reason humans turn on one another when they're threatened. I don't need people chasing me through the streets with wooden stakes.”

  “These vampires are jeopardizing your otherwise peaceful existence.”

  I laugh and catch him smirking.

  “Same could be said for you. Wolves have been no strangers to the headlines. There's been a number of public attacks in recent decades. You want a bunch of hunters with silver bullets chasing you from your home? From what I assume is an otherwise peaceful livelihood.”

  “Touché.”

  “Anyways, I'm no angel. I've got a lot of blood on my hands. Maybe this is me just trying to tip the scales back to the living.”

  “You said 'us' earlier. Are there a bunch like you?”

  I shake my head, “Only a few. They're older, in some cases much older. They don't assimilate with humans or society as you would define it.”

  “They feel like you do though, about these recent attacks putting them at risk?”

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact, several arrived in the states recently to investigate the deaths in Nevada.”

  He nods, sips from his drink. I polish off mine and set it on the bar.

  “Hailey said the bodies were found in the VIP section of that club last night. That means a private room, right? Bet this place has the same type of set up. Let's check the rooms.”

  Zach and I weave through the crowd towards the back of the club. I ask a cocktail server where the private rooms are and she points upstairs. We're wading through the masses down a tight hallway when I nearly collide with our target. A young twenty-something female with a silver tank top, ripped jeans and multiple glow sticks around her neck.

  “Hey.” She acknowledges my presence with a knowing wink. “Happy hunting,” she whispers in my ear as she passes.

  Then she bumps into Zach and freezes. The straw he'd been chewing on drops from his mouth. She looks from me to him, clearly confused as to why we'd be sharing the same space.

  “Hey man, I got no beef with your kind.” She raises her hands as she slips past him and takes off in the direction we just came from.

  Zach seems to be wrestling with what to do. We're in a packed hallway. I see him reach for his back, presumably for the stake, but the vampire has already made a break for it, vaulting over the railing and down into the packed dance floor.

  “I'll take the back door, you take the front.” I'm at the railing searching for her in the crowd. He nods rapidly, drink shaking in his hand. Breaking for the stairs, I see something, stop and turn. Every now and then I get a helpful vision.

  “When she goes for the fire escape keep her on the ground,” placing my hand on his arm reassuringly. “You don't have to stop her, just slow her down.”

  Minutes later I'm cutting through the back hallways of the club's ground level, which is mostly bathrooms and ‘employee only’ sections. I spot the exit door at the far corner snap shut. Bingo.

  She is rounding the corner into the side alley as I sprint out the back. The surrounding buildings leave little room to run. Empty liquor crates fill what little space there is. I leap clear of them and pursue her down the narrow alleyway that leads into the street. My pace slows as Zach appears at the end, causing her to backtrack and leap onto the fire escape of the neighboring building. Zach is ready. He immediately lunges at her and just as her hands reach the metal ladder rungs he connects with her legs and rips her down.

  She doesn't stay on the ground for long. Clawing his face and kicking frantically, she breaks his tackle and hurdles over him out into the street. I chase her across the street and into a larger alleyway that wraps around a cluster of storefronts. She turns left to follow the pathway into a parking lot, but I reach her before she makes it to the lot. My shoulder connects with her side as I slam her into the wall with a loud crack.

  I spin her to face me, grabbing both shoulders as I do, pinning her back against the rough brick surface. Her fangs are out and she hisses instinctively, her eyes blazing back at me.

  “Look I just want to understand why you're hunting humans. Did your maker tell you to? Are you with a clan?”

  Footsteps slow behind me as Zach reaches us. Her eyes dart from me to him.

  She continues to hiss at me.

  “Did you kill that couple last night?” Zach asks, moving towards us, stake in hand. I turn to tell him to lower the stake and catch a swift kick in the gut as she takes advantage of the distraction. One hand slips the other pulls her to the ground as her kick knocks me back.

  Zach pounces on her. I'm sure he thinks he's helping. But coming at a vampire with a wooden stake is not going to yield any answers. I've learned this the hard way in the past. We probably should have discussed interrogation tactics. And with a vampire as new and naïve as her, the presence of the weapon sends her into full-on panic mode.

  They land in a stack of trash bags as I stumble back to regain my footing. Her kick reminds me I’m still nursing wounds from earlier. She knocks the stake loose as they wrestle in the bed of trash bags. It's somewhat comical. I pick the stake up off the pavement as she manages to wriggle free of him and jump clear of the trash pile. She gets a couple steps further towards the parking lot before I reach her. She throws a wild punch in my direction, misses wide left and I take the opportunity to jam the stake through her chest.

  She gasps, claws at it for a millisecond before she hardens then disintegrates. Zach is on his feet, brushing himself off. He tries not to look shocked by her death. But his mouth hangs open for the few seconds it takes him to recover. I don't blame him, it's a weird thing to witness.

  Sighing, I scoop up the stake and hand it to him. That's when I look down and realize both his arms have turned. I place it gently in his open paw. It reverts slowly back to human as he grasps the stake.

  “Well, we got her.” He gestures awkwardly.

  “True. Would have been nice if we could have gotten her to talk, but a win's a win.”

  I fish out a cigarette and light it. He shakes his head when I extend him the pack, then rethinks it and takes one. We stand smoking, staring at the pile of ashes, neither one of us knowing quite what to say.

  “How'd you know she'd go for the fire escape.”

  Oh right...

  “We're predictable like that,” I offer dismissively. “I don't know about you, but this has been one very long night for me. Let's get out of here.”

  He nods emphatically.

  “At least with your kind there's no bodies to dispose of.”

  Chapter 14

  The door is unlocked when I turn the handle. This much I expected, the security system is still disabled and that includes the padlocks. I enter the apartment and lean against the door as it shuts behind me. Eyes closed, I feel relief wash over me. The past twenty-four hours have left me completely drained, mentally and physically, and I’m not sure how I’m still standing.

  Then I hear a faint voice whisper my name and my exhausted senses jump to life. My eyes fly open.

  It’s the wind. Remember, there is a giant chunk of wall missing from your apartment.

  I turn my head. There’s a figure sitting where Striden had been. I am losing it. Then I see two silver pistols sitting on the counter directly to my right. I step from the door and peer into the kitchen. Sitting at the island is C
rina, hand clenched around the bottle of vodka Striden had started. She looks as if she’s considering throwing it. Her posture relaxes when she sees me.

  “Crina?” I don’t try to hide my surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  I don’t go into the kitchen, instead I walk down the hall to the screen to put my overpriced home security system back online; though I suppose it did come through for me when it mattered. I cross to the far end where a gapping void in the wall still remains, stepping over broken furniture and fragments of splintered drywall.

  The engineers were supposed to design a retractable wall to fill the frame and seal off the exit once the detachable one has been ejected. It was the last phase of the project. I shake my head at their oversight.

  Further examination reveals the wall got stuck on the track. I click it back into place and it slides to cover the foreboding death shoot. The room falls silent as it seals out the wind tunnel.

  “There, that's better.” I offer a satisfied nod to Crina who has yet to speak. She watches me, looks as if she’s lost for words.

  Crossing to the kitchen, “Okay, if you haven’t noticed, it’s been a rough night. I would really appreciate if you could articulate why you’re here. Seems lately people have been lining up to kill me.” My eyes drift to the pistols. “So forgive me for being an ungracious host.”

  I take another vodka bottle from the freezer and crack it open.

  “Vega called…said you were in imminent danger…then when I arrived…saw the blood, the discharged weapon, the blown out wall…”

  I set the bottle down and notice her eyes for the first time. It looks as if she’s been crying.

  “Wait – did you think I was dead? Is that why you look as if you’ve seen a ghost?”

  It does look like a crime scene in here. Did she pick up on the werewolf blood, too? Is there any? Shit I put up a really poor fight. This is not a 'you should see the other guy' moment.

  “How are you even here right now?”

  It is as improbable as it looks.

  She stands up, takes the bottle from my hands. Before I can answer her lips meet mine. I’m so beyond trying to figure out what the hell is going on. We’d had a brief in-the-moment fling with Trent years ago, that was just that. And so much has happened since then…including us being at opposite ends of the gun, that this catches me completely off guard.

  But it sure beats her trying to kill me. I pull her to me and lift her up on the counter. After a moment I’m vaguely aware we’re stumbling into the hall. My back smacks against the glass window pane. Her legs wrap around my waist, I spin her against the window for leverage.

  We’ve had a strange relationship over the years and most of the time if she wasn’t trying to kill me herself she was fine throwing me into the line of fire. And I can’t say I blame her, there were plenty of instances when I deserved the abuse…and others not so much. But in a strange way we’ve also had each other’s backs over the years. We’d been through a lot together. And most of it was mired in violence and brutality. In retrospect perhaps this was long overdue. One thing is clear; we liked to make each other scream.

  ***

  “Where do we start?” Dade asks Quinn, his eyes dancing around the blazing lights that encompass the Las Vegas strip.

  They'd just reached the heart of Vegas nightlife after a short drive up from Henderson and hadn't really bothered with a game plan past combing the clubs in search of their own kind.

  “I guess we scope out a casino with a large bar scene, maybe see where DJs play around here.” Quinn says, unfazed by the glitz of the city as she makes faces at the scantily-clad tourists pouring in and out of the casinos.

  “Don't they look at themselves in the mirror before they go out? I know we don't have a reflection, but what's their excuse?”

  She points to a flashing neon sign as they pass a casino entrance. “This is probably as good a start as any.”

  They watch for a moment as a large herd of twenty-somethings wearing entirely too much glitter pours through the revolving doors.

  “This might not be as much fun as I'd hoped,” she mutters in their direction.

  Dade gives her arm a gentle squeeze. “Oh come on, you know you love it.”

  As they make their way to the entrance a voice with a southern accent greets them from below a cowboy hat.

  “Hey, friends, new in town?”

  He's standing in a smoking section to the left of the casino waving a cigar over an ash tray. They can tell he's one of them before he raises his head, but when he looks up his pale gray eyes shine from under the brim of his hat as if to offer confirmation.

  Dade and Quinn stop in their tracks.

  “We...umm...you could say that. First night in Vegas.” Quinn's tone is suspicious.

  The vampire snuffs out his cigar and extends a hand.

  “Welcome. Name's Nico.” His smile is warm and disarming.

  “Quinn, and this big lug here is Dade.” Quinn pats Dade on the shoulder encouragingly. He reluctantly shakes Nico's hand.

  “We heard this is the place to be lately,” Dade says, taking Quinn's cue. “But if we're stepping on toes, we'll move on. Don't want to infringe on your turf. We're just passing through.”

  “Nonsense. You two might be new to Vegas, but you're not new blood are you? And those accents? British? European?”

  “I'm from South America, Dade's from England. We travel a lot though.”

  Nico's grin widens, “Fantastic. I'm glad word has been spreading about this place. We're trying to build our numbers.”

  “We?” Quinn asks, hoping he'll elaborate.

  Instead he slips a card from his pocket and hands it to Dade.

  “Stop by tomorrow night. Ask for me.” He tugs on the brim of his hat, gives them a nod.

  “Was nice meeting you.”

  He takes a couple steps towards the main drag, then stops and turns. “Now I'm not one to offer unsolicited advice, and you two clearly know what you're doing, but if I may, be careful in the casinos. There's cameras everywhere. I suggest bringing them back to your hotel room or somewhere less conspicuous. Have fun.” He winks as he disappears into the crowd.

  “Well that was almost too easy,” Quinn watches him depart.

  “Not sure about that guy. Hard to take him seriously with that hat.” Dade stares down at the card, turning it in his hand. “And what are we supposed to do with this?”

  The card has two sets of numbers scrawled on it.

  “I think those are coordinates. But let's bring it to Xan.”

  “He was so casual about hunting. I'm not used to hearing vampires talk about killing humans...” Dade shakes his head.

  “It's a whole new world we're living in big guy. Let's go scope out a couple clubs anyways, see what we're missing.”

  “Is it too late to go back to England?” Dade sighs as he follows her into the casino.

  Chapter 15

  With the system back online the black-out curtains lower as programed. I don’t have to open my eyes to check. I don’t want to. Bed never felt so good.

  “So who did you throw out your window last night?”

  I reluctantly peel one eye open. Crina lays propped up on one elbow, waiting patiently for my response. I close the eye.

  “Not yet…I just want a couple more hours pretending the world isn’t falling apart around us. Just a couple more…”

  She laughs and rolls onto her back.

  A thought occurs to me. “You said Vega called you?”

  “Yes. He said I needed to get to your place, that you were walking into an ambush. He gave me your address. That was the extent of his call. We’d just landed outside Las Vegas and were still at the airport, so I re-boarded and came here and I still don’t know why.”

  “Huh.”

  “Huh? Seriously?”

  “Sorry just trying to figure out how Vega knew I was in danger.”

  “And why he called me and not Rex? Because that did cross my m
ind, too.”

  Striden.

  “Actually… that part I figured out,” I turn to face her. “I’m not getting those extra hours of escapism am I?”

  “Honeymoon phase is over,” she laughs. She never laughs. It's good to see her happy, but it's not going to last. I'll try to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

  I untangle my legs from the sheets and slide off the bed, making for the hallway. I spot my shirt on the floor and pull it on as I head into the living room. Crina follows me, “Care to elaborate?”

  After a moment of digging through my closet I lift up a handheld wand, not unlike the kind security guards use in airports.

  “A metal detector?”

  “Yeah I bought it to check for tracking chips after I left San Fran.”

  I begin to scan the room, up-righting toppled furniture as I do.

  “You really didn't want to be found did you?”

  The wand beeps rapidly above a picture frame of some generic photograph of a sunset I'd bought online. I run my fingers along the frame until I find a camera. When I take it down and examine it, Crina looks over my shoulder.

  “Vega bugged you?”

  “I don’t see a mic, looks like a wireless transmitter streaming the footage.”

  I'm tempted to leave it on the photograph. After all, he did use it to help me. But he could be the one who leaked my address to Striden in the first place. Second thoughts? Plans change after my encounter with the Purebloods? Nearly everyone I've trusted has turned on me at some point. I can't let him continue to play big brother.

  The glass cracks under my heel as I shatter the little device. I head back to the bedroom, pausing at the bloody footprints smeared across the tile floor.

  Crina picks up pieces of a broken lamp then stops when she sees the shotgun on the floor by the overturned couch. Tape hangs from the base of the couch and she rolls her eyes.

 

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