Hunter's Rise

by Shiloh Walker

  “Answer you and I can go back inside. I won’t remember,” he echoed.

  “That’s right. I’m looking for a man.” She pulled out a picture and showed it to him. “Do you know this man?”

  Lashes flickered. Something angry swirled below the hypnotic web she’d cast over him. “He’s a sick fuck. He likes to hurt little kids.”

  Considering what she’d seen in the club earlier, she was a little surprised at the depth of the rage she felt in him. Okay, maybe she’d been a little too quick to judge. “Do you know where I could find him?”

  “He likes hitting the raves somewhere down by the river— they move around a lot. Some of the little idiots there don’t realize how much trouble he is. We’ve tried to put the word out, and since he was arrested, more people are careful.” He blinked then, looking around puzzled.

  Sylvia pushed harder, watching as he sank back into the web. “Have you seen him recently?”

  “No. I steer clear of people like that. But I’ve heard he’s not been around as much— found a new way to get his kicks. Someplace over in Cordova.” He rambled off an address. “I think that’s it. Somebody’s house. People party there, but they keep it quiet. Rich bunch of freaks. I heard he has a new boyfriend, too. Another rich freak, but this guy’s not from here.”

  “Okay.” Sylvia smiled at him and handed his cigarette back, watched as he stared at it in bemusement. “Walk back inside. You’ve already forgotten talking to me.”

  I

  T took her another twenty-five minutes to drive to Cordova, a few more precious minutes to stash her bike. Precious, precious time.

  The dawn was edging ever closer, and she wanted to scream.

  Frustration chewed at her as she took a deep drag of air in— she’d have to come back here again, because the scents flooding the air were a mess. Too many scents to process in the short span of time she had.

  The area was huge, sprawling out over several miles, and although she could move fast, she had to hold herself to a human’s pace, giving herself time to pick through the layers upon layers of scent.

  If she wanted to make sense of it all and find this needledick in the haystack, she needed to focus her hunt and not search blindly.

  Which meant she likely wouldn’t get it done in one night.

  “And what if the Hunter gets him first?” Just the thought sent a spark of frustration twisting through her. Sylvia didn’t fail on her jobs. She saw them through.

  And shit, failing this one wasn’t an option. Not with Toby’s face haunting her thoughts, a young ghost.

  Pulaski seemed to have disappeared without a trace— he hadn’t been seen, hadn’t been heard from, and she suspected the Hunters weren’t having much luck, either.

  No way of knowing that for sure— it was just instinct, but she trusted those instincts.

  Where was the Hunter now?

  If he’d had a good line on Pulaski, he wouldn’t have wasted time talking to her earlier. So he was probably doing the same thing she was, spinning his wheels and chasing dead ends for now. She didn’t think he was following her— it was a vague possibility she’d kept in mind. She’d done as much to confuse her back trail as she could, but there was no way she could guarantee it would work with a Hunter. Especially a were.

  Why did there have to be a Master were here? And why was there a Master were here? The local head hotshot was a vampire. He should have been the one tracking her, right? Vamps and weres were all territorial bastards and Masters were more so— why were two Masters so close together?

  Maybe he wasn’t a Hunter…

  Nah. That wasn’t likely. She needed to quit worrying about him, focus on the job. Already the feeling of the night had changed, and there wasn’t much time left. Dawn wasn’t quite peering over the horizon, but it wouldn’t be long.

  Sylvia closed her eyes, blocking out everything around her as she focused on the night, on the scents, on the ebb and flow of life.

  She might not be able to scent-track quite as well as a wolf could, but she had one advantage. She could feel life. And weres all but vibrated with it. Now that she had his particular vibe, so to speak, she should be able to get a better lock on him if he was anywhere near.

  His particular vibe… damn. She’d really like to have his particular vibe, in a particular way. Her skin hummed just thinking about it and once more, she had to block the idea out.

  Dawn edged closer by the time she finished doing a fruitless search, skirting around the lushly landscaped lawns, keeping to the shadows. Inside some of the houses, people were already shambling around. The scent of coffee began to perfume the air, the sounds of a shower here and there.

  “Time to go,” she whispered.

  It was on the way out that she caught the drifting scent of something. Faint. Coming from the east. Up several streets. Maybe as far as a mile away. And although she didn’t have much time left, she couldn’t resist the lure of those scents.

  There was blood. But it didn’t draw her— it was tainted with fear. Pain. The entire air was thick with it. And sex—

  Shit. “How can humans not feel this?” she whispered as she edged closer. Only a few blocks away… she continued to filter her way through the layers of scent— a lot of people. Some of them had come this way. Often. Some faded and went off in different directions.

  Sylvia stilled in the shadows, crouching down as she let her brain process the tendrils of scent more, letting her mind form a picture. She could see it. Some of the scents were the same, but layered, older, covered with new. People visiting the same place, over and over. And then other scents were new, just barely there.

  And sex— under all of it was sex. Heavy and hard, coupled with violence.

  Orgy.

  That’s what she was trailing. The fading stink of an orgy. But it hadn’t happened tonight—

  Exhaustion snuck up on her, grabbing her around the throat like a fist.

  Shooting a look at the horizon, she groaned. So caught up in the trail, so determined to find something, she’d let the dawn creep too close. Rising, she looked at the slim, simple watch she wore.

  The sun would pierce the horizon in forty-two minutes.

  If she was lucky, she could stay awake for forty-four.

  Unfortunately, the place she’d found to stay was thirty miles outside of town.

  T

  ORONTO kept catching her scent.

  All over the damn city, which was ridiculous considering how big Memphis was. She’d been all over downtown, crossed back and forth over the river, spent quite a while on Beale Street— shit, she’d gone back to the club, too.

  But she’d spent most of her time prowling around outside of Memphis— near Cordova. Why in the hell wasn’t he surprised? He followed in her tracks, unsettled by how strong her scent still was. He’d missed her by minutes, and the sun was up. Not by much, just a sliver of it, barely visible through the trees and over the houses.

  A car engine caught his ears and he moved into the darkness of a nearby yard— plenty of shadows, there. He waited until the car passed and then he moved back out, keeping out of sight as he followed the trail of her scent.

  No big puzzle why she’d pushed it so long, either. Although damn, he hoped she was one of the vamps who could take some sun, considering just how long she’d pushed it.

  The stink in the air was enough to have the wolf in him wanting to pull back. Blood, fear, violence, rage. All of it left him twisted in knots and he wanted to find a nice, clean, icy-cold river to swim in. Might help. Hell, a dip in the Mississippi would make him feel cleaner.

  None of this was new, though, whatever she’d been tracking; unless she’d gotten lucky, he doubted she’d nabbed—

  Her scent trail stopped.

  Tor groaned, stopping in front of a house and staring at it. The trail stopped here, but he could still smell her.

  The house looked empty. Judging by the For Sale sign in front, he suspected it damn well should be empty.

&
nbsp; But it wasn’t. He could feel the vampire now, in the same way he’d felt her earlier— a strange little blank spot on his senses, and the more he focused, the more aware of her became.

  Inside— she was inside. Apparently she hadn’t left in time to make it to wherever she was staying and she’d had to find safety.

  Rafe’s enclave was eight miles away. She could have made it there and technically, she could have asked for sanctuary. No surprise she hadn’t done that, though. Rafe would have given it to her— Tor had seen the respect in the other vamp’s eyes when he talked about the mercenary— but he also knew the boss wasn’t going to let the woman out to kill her target, either.

  Shit.

  Why did it have to be so complicated?

  Stroking his tongue along the inside of his teeth, he told himself to walk away. He had an entire day to search the city. It was summer. The days were long. She was trapped inside for all those long daylight hours.

  Turning away, he made it two steps.

  And then he was whirling back around and running to the house.

  S

  HE’D entered through the back. There were tracks from a bike— motorcycle? Oh, man, he liked that image. That sexy, sleek little vamp perched atop a shining, black and chrome machine. A real motorcycle, he knew. It wouldn’t be a toy, not for her.

  He didn’t see any signs of it. A quick trip around the perimeter of the yard showed why. It was behind the little pool house, tucked out of sight. He didn’t find her there, though. The small building had four windows, and there was no way a vamp could escape the bright light of day.

  No, she’d be in the house.

  Crouching down, he eyed the back door, searching for signs that she’d picked the lock. There weren’t any, but he knew she had. There was also an alarm, but obviously, she hadn’t set that off or he wouldn’t be the only one poking around the house.

  Wasn’t hard to figure one’s way around locks and alarms, not if you had the time. Vamps and shifters had plenty of that.

  CHAPTER 9

  G

  IVE credit where credit is due. Rafe had to give Angel credit. She’d done the high school senior bit to a T. She’d managed to make herself look even younger. Innocent. Sweet. Not necessarily typical in this day and age.

  “You sure that’s the right look?” he asked, studying the dress. “You’re looking for information on a sex ring, not the good girls ring.”

  Angel lifted a brow. “You trust me to do this or not?”

  “Yes.” Rafe sighed.

  “Then let me do it.” She skimmed a hand through her hair and then waggled her fingers, showcasing the rings that sparkled there. “I’m not taking off my wedding ring. It’s unusual enough that it doesn’t look like a wedding ring and I don’t have an engagement ring. I figured if I paired it with a bunch of rings, it wouldn’t look weird.”

  Rafe stared at her hand and then back at her face. “Please tell me you’re not asking my opinion about your jewelry.”

  “I’m not.” With a wide grin on her face, she pointed out, “I’m just letting you know that I’m not taking off my wedding ring.” She rubbed the tip of one finger over the gold band inlaid with Australian opal and continued to watch him, amused. “Although, now that you’ve let me see how much the idea terrifies you, I’ll be sure to ask for your advice at some point in the future.”

  “Shit, you’re a brat. No wonder Sheila likes you so much.” He shook his head and settled behind his desk, reaching for a file there. It held a number of illegal, forged documents. False transcripts, a false birth certificate, Social Security card, the works— everything Angel would need to get into high school. “So, you think you’ll have any trouble with playing a student?”

  “Academically or socially?”

  “Either,” Rafe said bluntly. “I need you to pass as a student on all accounts. The teachers have to buy it, the students, everybody. Teachers, probably administrative staff are involved in this. If even one wrong person gets suspicious—”

  “They’ll start thinking that maybe I’m a cop or something.” With a dramatic sigh, she said, “They’ll shut things down, or move things, or something else. We’ll have a hard time tracking them down, which means you all can’t go and do terrible, bloody atrocities to them and make them pay for using kids.” She sat in the seat across from him, her blue eyes level. “Rafe, I don’t think you get just how easily I can pick up a thought.”

  She cocked her head and then said, “Somebody just came inside. You probably know who it is, just by their scent. I can tell you it’s Lindsey, and I can also tell you that she is going to go upstairs— she doesn’t want to see anybody, talk to anybody, look at anybody. She’s upset… angry.”

  Rafe frowned. He knew that— he’d caught the subtle variation in the scent, but the werewolf wasn’t hurt. He also had a weird ability to tell when things were of a personal level, or something that would affect the Enclave— the small group of Hunters he ran. This was personal. Therefore, none of his concern.

  “I don’t need to know why she’s angry,” Rafe said softly.

  “No. You don’t.” Angel smiled sadly and shrugged. “Neither do I. And I shut the door. But the doors, so to speak, are just open for me. I have to close to them, or the thoughts are there for me to read.”

  “Are mine?”

  Angel just stared at him.

  Narrowing his eyes, Rafe asked again.

  Resting an elbow on the arm of her chair, she propped her chin in her hand. “You know, that brooding glare bit tends to lose its impact after a few years of living with brooding males. You do it. Dom did it. Kel does it— and I sleep with him. It’s nowhere near as intimidating when you’re sleeping with a brooder.”

  “How in the hell can you read my mind?” he demanded. He was a Master vampire, coming up on a hundred and fifty years. Angel was just barely above human, she was just barely thirty.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It’s probably because of what happened to me. I’d say if it wasn’t for that— if I hadn’t had vampire blood forced down my throat— it wouldn’t be possible. But my blood isn’t the same— I am not the same. I heal faster, I’m stronger than I should be. We already know this. Only makes sense that my gifts changed as well.”

  Shit. Rafe knew all of that. He’d just never made the leap to thinking she might be able to read his mind. “How long have you been able to read the minds of vampires?”

  “You mean other than Kel’s?” With an unblinking stare, she studied him. “I’ve always been able to read his. Even when we were kids. The rest of you… it was just vague murmurs, at first; about two years ago, I guess. You were first. Your voice is the loudest— I guess because you’re the strongest.”

  “I— no. Shit.” Shoving back from the desk, he stood up and turned away, staring out the window. This wasn’t a concern. It couldn’t be. Hell, it might even come in useful.

  “It very well could. Especially if I need to speak to you.”

  “If you can shut the damn door, Angel… do it,” he growled.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He didn’t have to look at her to know she was smirking. Damn it, he really needed to do something with her. He didn’t know what but he needed to do something. “Okay. Let’s get back on target.”

  There was a knock at the door and Rafe turned. “Come on in, Kel.” He watched as the younger vamp prowled into the room. Suddenly, the phrase This will not end well kept circling through his mind. He pushed it aside.

  This would end fine. Angel was the one most suited for the task. Okay, out of the men and women he had? Angel was the only one truly suited. Kel looked young, but he couldn’t go out in the daylight without developing third-degree burns all over his body within moments of seeing sunlight. Lindsey looked fairly young, but she had about as much subtlety in her as a bull in a china shop. She was a great Hunter. As an investigator? Not so much.

  Angel was it.

  Besides, although Kel didn’t see it yet, he
might even get to play, too, probably. But they’d worry about that later.

  “You get how this has to play out, right? You’re looking for leads, information. If something sets your mental alarm off, I want to know. You do not place yourself in danger.”

  Angel rolled her eyes, toying with the strap of her backpack, slung over one slim shoulder. “Yeah, Rafe. I got it. One of your pet humans is coming by to pick me up— she’s going to act like my mom. She’s in sales and she travels a lot. An absentee sort of mom, and my dad’s way out of the picture. We’ve got all the forged crap, fake transcripts from my last so-called school.” She paused and sent Kel a flirtatious look, fluttering her lashes. “And you gave me permission to mention a boyfriend, although we don’t know if he’ll show up much.”

  “Boyfriend?” Kel muttered, combing his fingers through her hair. “I’m back to being a boyfriend?”

  “Well, she can’t be married. She’s a high school senior,” Rafe pointed out. Then he glanced back at Angel. “One of my pet humans?”

  She grinned at him. “What else do you call them? You snap your fingers, they all come running.”

  “You act like there is a platoon of them. And I’ll have you know… this is a local witch, thank you.”

  From the doorway, Sheila said, “He had to leave behind the platoon of human pets when we married. And only one or two have ever figured out what he is. He doesn’t keep a bunch around here to feed on, and there aren’t enough vamps in the house that he needs to do that, anyway.”

  Kel turned around, his eyes burning hot, his mouth a harsh, narrow line. “You’re sending my wife off to someplace where there’s a suspected sex-slave ring and you all are talking about human pets. She’s teasing me about being allowed to have a boyfriend. What’s wrong with this picture?”

  “Kel… I’m going to a high school. Filled with a bunch of mortals.” Angel moved closer to her husband, her moves graceful and easy— sinuous.

  She didn’t move like a mortal anymore, Rafe thought. He’d already pointed that out to her and he hoped she’d remember to watch it. She would, though. That was Angel. She didn’t forget the small details, the big details, any details. Another reason why she was perfect for this.