by Liz Meldon
That vamps were only out for one thing with humans—blood.
The Grimm clan had disproven that, with the sizeable human population living on their property to be nearer to friends and sweethearts alike. Maybe it was just League dogma. Maybe it was necessary jargon to prepare hunters to stake a vamp, who, despite their disease, looked very similar to humans.
“Delia?”
She jumped, Claude’s voice sounding louder than it probably was while she was deep in thought. “Hmm?”
“Do you want to talk about last night?”
Her gut response was no, no she wasn’t interested in having a mature conversation about what all the sex meant. But she was trying to make positive changes. Talking about things with Claude had to be on the list if she wanted to see any improvements.
So, she crumpled the empty bagel wrapper and stuck it in the takeout bag, then grabbed her coffee. “Sure.”
“I believe I made my position on things fairly clear,” Claude said as she took a sip. Letting it sit had brought the drink down to the perfect temperature, but it still needed some tempering. Black coffee wasn’t her thing.
“I think you did,” she remarked. He wanted her in his life, but only if she didn’t pull a disappearing act. Totally fair. Delia slurped another mouthful of coffee. “But you have to consider that I want to give the League one last chance.”
His eyebrows raised slightly, a mere flicker to show his surprise. “Do you? Even with all the…grievances?”
“I think so.” Delia pressed her lips together briefly, suddenly less confident than she had been a second ago. “I mean, I hope so. Maybe. I’ve been assigned to a new case. Kind of another promotion, but better.”
“Congratulations.” He meant well, but the dry quality to his voice was hard to ignore.
She shifted onto her side to face him, coffee nestled between both hands. “I’m not as excited about it as I thought I’d be. I mean, it’s great. In theory, this is what I’ve always wanted.”
“But?”
“But I don’t feel how I thought I would,” Delia admitted with a sigh. She fiddled with the coffee cup lid, picking at it until the plastic cracked. “I still want to give it my all. At least if I really try at it and don’t like it, I won’t have regrets later. If I don’t enjoy this, I think I’ll know the League isn’t for me, but I should give it a chance before I start hunting for a new career.”
And turn her whole life upside down. But if she had Claude by her side, the exploration seemed a little less scary.
“I suppose that’s a reasonable way to approach it,” he said slowly, tipping his head back to rest against the headboard.
“I’d like to think so,” she said. “I know it complicates things for us and dating. The High Council already knows we had a relationship and have asked me to end it.” Her cheeks flushed when their eyes met, a certain other League assignment at the tip of her tongue. But she knew now wasn’t the time to tell him. One day, of course. She owed him that much and more. “They told me dating you was a conflict of interest.”
He made a noise that was a cross between a scoff and a growl. “Hardly. It only is if we let it be. I have no interest in League business… You know that.”
“I know.” They’d talked about it at such length already that the topic felt tiresome. “But I don’t think I can publicly defy them by dating you around town. They let it slip, but I don’t know if they always will.” When Claude rolled his eyes, she added, “And I don’t want to, I don’t know, wake up in the middle of nowhere one day, vultures circling, because I broke the rules.”
His gaze hardened. “I would never allow that to happen.”
“Still though,” she pressed. “I definitely want to be with you and… I maybe want to keep my job. I know it’s a lot to ask, but if we can find a way to make it work, I want to try. It might only be for a little while longer anyway.”
Claude proved to be a good sounding board for her concerns. They sat together for an hour or so, half of which Delia spent venting her frustrations with herself for not being over the moon about the promotion, to which Claude responded that it was perfectly normal. Expectations are made and not met all the time—that’s life. The rest of the conversation centered on how they would move forward together, keeping in mind that she still wanted to see if she could ever enjoy her job again.
As Delia lay against Claude’s chest, her head tucked under his chin while her finger traced random shapes along his arm, they decided they would keep their relationship as secretive as possible for the time being, at least until she decided if she’d stay on as a hunter. All date activities would be held on his property or outside of Harriswood to lessen the risk of being caught.
“It will be complicated,” Claude murmured.
Delia shook her head and tried to sit up, but he kept her against him. “No, but—”
“All relationships are complicated,” he continued, his voice a soothing rumble deep within his chest. She snuggled closer, enjoying the faint vibration. “Ours is, historically, one that begs for complication. A vampire and a hunter. We should be enemies on principle.”
The thought made her quiet, a heavy lump settling in her throat, until Claude chuckled and pressed his lips to her forehead.
“Luckily I am one of the more progressive clan leaders,” he offered, smirking.
Delia agreed with a kiss, a lingering one that made the hairs on her arms stand and the heat between her thighs grow. It probably didn’t help that she was still naked, wrapped in his arms, his hands wandering everywhere and anywhere.
“I think it will involve a lot of work to make this successful,” he stated, as if the thought had just occurred to him. It wasn’t something Delia wanted to agree with—no one wanted to face an uphill battle, especially when it involved a person they cared about.
“But,” she said in a small voice, “I think it will be worth it.”
His arms tightened around her in response, which made her smile. Something that made her feel this good had to be worth it. Work never made her feel the way Claude did. Junk food was a comfort, TV binges a distraction, bar nights a giant black hole. But what she had right now felt tangible—more real than any of it.
Sometime later, as she hovered between falling asleep and feeling Claude up, Delia wriggled out of his arms and sat upright, brushing her hair back over her shoulders. Claude’s bright blues wandered her figure appreciatively.
“Do you mind if I take a shower?” She nodded toward the ensuite. “I should probably go get my tent and stuff if the storm didn’t carry it away.”
“Of course,” Claude said. He reached out and cupped her breast, then pinched her nipple lightly before she swatted him away. “I can drive you out there and bring you home… Or call for a car?”
“Car will probably be better,” she told him as she crawled across the bed away from him, purposefully on all fours as the blankets fell from her body. “Less noticeable, especially if the other hunters are still there. I’m sure a few would actually know your face.”
“Glad I’ve made an impression,” he muttered somewhat distractedly.
Delia grinned as she clambered off the bed. Hands on her hips, she rounded on the spot and pointed an accusatory finger at the vampire king. “And don’t you dare think of sneaking into the shower with me.” She bit her cheeks to keep from smiling as Claude eased forward and made his way to the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on her, looking more predator than man. “I have a reputation to consider, sir.”
Nose in the air, Delia tiptoed toward the bathroom—only to squeal and make a mad dash for the shower at the sound of Claude racing after her.
CHAPTER 19: It’s Going Down in Donovan Town
“It’s a guy, right?”
Delia looked up quickly from her phone. “What?”
Beside her, Devin leaned against the light blue locker with a smirk, arms crossed. “The person you’re texting,” he said, nodding down to the phone.
Delia hastily p
ressed the lock button and shoved the phone in her backpack, then slammed the locker shut harder than she meant to. And here she thought she’d been subtle with all her Claude-texting. Apparently not. Pre–Donovan raid nerves were getting the better of her. Devin’s expression morphed into full-blown smugness, his smile infectious.
“It’s nothing,” she muttered as she drew her hair into a low pony, then stuffed the tail down the back of her shirt. The last thing she needed was some vamp getting a hold of her hair again.
“Is he cute?”
The way she blushed was answer enough. “Yeah. He’s cute.”
She and Claude had been texting back and forth all night. While she should have been sleeping, her ticket to the dream train must have been invalid, because it never came. Now it was a sunny Saturday morning, cool and crisp in the early days of December, and Delia probably had about four hours of mediocre sleep to keep her going. She couldn’t help it. She’d been assigned to Team Alpha with Kain for the Donovan estate raid that day. Expectations were high, just like her blood pressure, and she’d been fidgety since about 4 AM.
A part of her wished she could actually talk to Claude about what she was doing today. Still, her loyalty on the issue belonged begrudgingly to the League, so she’d kept her mouth shut beyond telling him it was a huge project with dozens of the best hunters working it. He pointed out that she was one of those hunters, and Delia resisted the urge to tell him she was only there because she’d been a hit on the local news.
His confidence in her, though somewhat misplaced, was appreciated.
“Don’t forget to suit up,” Devin told her, handing her a tin of black paint to decorate her face with.
“What should I do?”
“Zebra stripes, all the way. Forehead to chin.”
“I’m one hundred percent going to sweat that off,” Delia said with a nervous laugh as they made their way to the bathroom area of the unisex locker room, Devin hovering nearby as she used a mirror over the sink to apply her war paint. Lacking creativity, she added two stripes to each cheek, then handed him back his tin. Her hand trembled when it brushed against his, but he had the decency not to comment on it—probably because he was a little jittery too.
Dressed in breathable cotton tshirts and cargo pants, the two left the changing room together, accompanied by a few other hunters. Rendezvous was scheduled for 9 AM. Each team, Alpha to Omega, would leave HQ by eleven with the aim of reaching the Donovan estate by noon—when the sun was at its highest.
“I really can’t stand that these fuckers are coming with us,” Devin muttered as they navigated HQ’s underground hallways. Delia glanced around him at the cluster of Warwick vamps, all outfitted in sleek black gear, not an ounce of skin showing beyond their faces. One of them blew her a kiss when he caught her looking. Delia kept going, too hopped up on premission adrenaline for a bit of verbal sparring.
“Well, it’s not like they’ll be in the same van,” she noted. As they drew nearer to the meeting hall, a giant space roughly the size of an airplane hangar with a ramp leading up to Harriswood Library’s rear parking lot, the sound of dozens of voices assaulted her ears. All Delia’s senses had been heightened from the second she jumped out of bed hours earlier.
“They might as well be,” Devin said with an irritable sigh.
Delia shot him a quick look. “We all voted on this. Try not to pick a fight with them.”
“No promises.”
Not like he’d have the opportunity to do so. While Johnathon Warwick was sun-resistant, as were his turned children, the rest of his clan would burn severely the second they stepped foot outside. Sun-proof transport had been arranged to take them to the underground tunnels leading off the Donovan property, the blueprints of which were supplied by Johnathon Warwick himself. They were to stop any of the Donovan clansmen who thought of hightailing it out of there as soon as the coalition arrived. For once, Delia didn’t mind the extra vamp muscle, though she would have preferred the muscle be Grimm rather than Warwick.
When they reached the hangar, the hunters in front of them split off, each going to meet up with their respective teams. The Omega crew was stationed by the doorway, their table set up with all the items they’d need for clean-up duty once the task was done. Ali’s face lit up when she spotted them, her thin blonde locks swept up in a tight ponytail like Delia’s. She waved as she continued to pack her gear bag, a gesture both Devin and Delia returned.
“Well…” Delia inhaled deeply, filling her lungs, then blew it all out. “See you on the other side.”
“Take care of yourself, D,” Devin said. They’d need to go in opposite directions to meet up with their teams. Team Alpha was closest to the transport vans and had the largest table to hold their various weapons—Alphas were responsible for bringing in the immediate Donovan family, whom they’d been assured were all on location by scouts. Team Charlie, Devin’s crew a few tables over, were to extract all the Donovan humans and dispense with whatever security they might meet along the way.
Delia’s gaze swept over her friend briefly. He was exactly the kind of man she’d want coming to her rescue if she were vamp property.
“Hey,” she said as he started to turn away. As a few hunters watched, men mostly, she pulled Devin into a quick hug, standing on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his muscular neck. Even with the jeers from onlookers, Devin hugged her too, his grip cracking her back.
“Sorry.” He gave her a lopsided grin when they pulled apart, and Delia brushed the apology off. It felt good, the cracking. “You come out of that house, Miss Roberts. Y’hear me?”
“Done.” They did a quick fist bump. “Take care of the people inside.”
“Of course.”
With one last smile, they went their separate ways. When Delia looked back to him, he was being greeted by his crew. It was all smiles on Team Charlie.
Team Alpha had a decidedly frostier reception for Delia. Kain was the only one who even glanced up as she approached. The others went on loading their guns, polishing their stakes, and checking their scopes in silence. She placed her fingertips on the edge of the weapon-laden table, looking around with an uneasy smile, one that weakened when no one greeted her besides Kain.
“Tense around here,” she said as she sidled up to him and nudged his arm. He might not have been her favourite person lately, but he was the only one she could word-vomit her nerves on without getting glared at. “How’re you doing? You ready for this?”
The Kain who stared at her wasn’t the Kain she knew. No, this Kain was all business, his brow furrowed and his lips set in a tight frown. She swallowed hard and crossed her arms, suddenly aware of just how poorly she fit in with her team. All the crews taking part in the assault had trained together. Sure, each team had had separate meetings to prep for the day of, but for the last few weeks, Delia had been working with everyone. That had been fun. This was uncomfortable.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked, his tone lacking her playfulness. Delia initially assumed it was a rhetorical question, but hastily nodded when it seemed like he was waiting for a response.
“Yeah, I’m good. Nervous, but good.”
“Well, get your jacket and gear,” he told her, returning his attention to the crossbow in his hands. “And stick close to me.”
Struggling to keep a snippy comment to herself, Delia went for her jacket, which was the only one left hanging: bulletproof with added protection around the wrists and neck. It zipped all the way up to her chin and her helmet would cover the rest. She’d been training with it over the last few days to adjust to its weight, but it still made her shoulders sag when she put it on.
While the rest of her team had a whole slew of weapons assigned to them, Delia only had one outside the usual. Finding her name card on the table, she inspected her handgun—lightweight and responsive—and loaded it with ammunition, leaving the safety on for now. The bullets were armor-piercing silver with a wood core, perfect for immobilizing a vamp until the
hunter could finish the job. A part of her hoped she wouldn’t need to use it, but the Donovans didn’t strike her as a family who would come quietly.
She stuffed additional ammunition bundles into the various pockets of her cargo pants, and then added the five stakes she’d been assigned to their holsters around her waist and calves. When she caught the eye of the hunter next to her, Gregory, she offered a small smile, but all he did was stare at her blankly before going back to his gear.
Awesome.
She rolled her eyes and finished suiting up, then returned to Kain’s side at the other end of the table. They stood together in silence, Kain with his arms crossed as he surveyed the hangar while Delia sat on the edge of the table and picked at a stubborn hangnail, wishing her stomach would settle already.
At ten thirty on the dot, a siren went off to settle the hunters. Standing by the transport vehicles with a megaphone, Wentworth, flanked by the High Council, looked as grim as the Alpha team. The sight of the five men in their traditional midnight-black robes made Delia’s insides twist again. Meanwhile, Johnathon Warwick, gaunt as ever, stood on Wentworth’s right and looked positively giddy.
“Okay, listen up, folks.” Wentworth’s voice boomed throughout the hangar. Delia winced at the short-lived, high-pitched whine of the megaphone. The older man smacked the device a few times before speaking again, this time without the feedback. “Busy day ahead of us. Team leaders, brief your squad, then check in with me before loading up. It’s time to remind the Donovan clan that Harriswood isn’t their personal playground. Today, we make our city safe again.”
Cheesy as it was, Delia joined in on the clapping and cheering—she couldn’t help herself.
*
“I know that face…” Bella Donovan snapped at Delia like a rabid dog, the ice-blonde vamp’s teeth a mere three inches from her face as two hunters held her back. They’d managed to capture the vamp in her bedroom, an enormous room overlooking the estate’s well-maintained courtyard. Clothes were scattered across the floor and hanging from bedposts, while necklaces and shoes decorated various door handles. It was the bedroom of a spoiled, and perhaps much-loved, heiress.