Dark Huntress

by Nia Night

  I pushed these things from my head as Kieran brought the bike to a slower pace, noticing that we had entered a much seedier part of town than his hotel had been located in. Indeed, this downtown area was known to host the less savory of not only the human population, but that of the supernatural as well. There were much fewer questions when a hooker or a drug addict wound up dead here, much less probing on the part of the humans. I’d been assigned a Mark near here once, and remembered my eagerness to get the job done and get back to my part of town.

  Kieran pulled the bike up along the curb and shut off the engine. I hopped off before he could offer assistance, feeling a little colder without the firm weight of his body against mine.

  Dear Gods, Iliana, I chastised myself. Get a hold of yourself, would ya?

  “You okay?” Kieran asked. I noticed then that he’d been studying me.

  Straightening, I raised a brow as though this were a ludicrous question. “Of course,” I replied. “Where are we going?”

  Kieran nodded toward a building at the end of the block, where there was a line of humans waiting to get in and a bouncer who I was pretty sure was a Werewolf. Club Silver was notorious for the darkest of indulgences, and I’d always taken pains to avoid it, though I understood why he’d chosen it. There were always various humans and supes around who were smashed off their asses, which made them easy targets for the bloodsuckers.

  We did not get in the human line, but instead, wandered through an alley between the buildings and went around to the back. Here, there was another door, another line, though much smaller, and all the people waiting in this one were of supernatural origins.

  I spotted the bouncer at the door a moment after he saw me, and it was too late to duck out of sight.

  “Gwen?” said the male Wolf whom I’d spent an evening with, the one who’d guess that he’d never see me again.

  Kieran raised a brow, amusement playing across his lips. I shot him a look that warned I might just knock it off his face if he commented.

  “Uh, hey,” I said.

  The male Wolf—I wracked my brain for his name and could not come up with it—eyed Kieran before turning his smile back to me. “I’ve never seen you here before,” he said.

  I gestured toward the building, sensing the still amused and curious look on Kieran’s face and wanting to melt into the concrete for no sensible reason. “First time… I was hoping to go inside,” I answered.

  The Wolf nodded, removing the rope barring the door immediately. I blinked and stepped up to it.

  “I had a really good time with you the other night,” said the Wolf as I prepared to enter. He said it lowly, but I knew the Angel heard it. “I’d like to see you again,” the Wolf added.

  Now I could practically hear the laughter Kieran was swallowing. I placed a hand on the Wolf’s chest, figuring that if I played along, I could get this over with faster. “I’ll see you on the way out,” I said, an earned a big smile in return.

  He let me step through, giving Kieran an appraising look as he followed on my heels. I struggled not to roll my eyes at the smug look Kieran offered in return, wondering if males of any species ever stopped measuring their members.

  Inside, the place was dark, pulsing neon green lights offering the only illumination. It was also packed to the brim, and the scent of all those bodies accented by that of alcohol made my nose crinkle.

  Kieran pressed close beside me, and I ignored the way this seemed to run along my skin, to make heat spiral low in my belly. “Gwen?” he asked in my ear.

  I narrowed my eyes as I looked over at him. “Shut up,” I said.

  He held up both hands, face feigning innocence.

  “Let’s just find some Accursed and get this over with,” I added.

  Kieran grinned, stupid handsome face still amused. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Annoyed, I told him we should split up to make this go faster, and began cutting my way through the crowd before he could respond. I felt better with some distance between us, though I didn’t understand why I should care in the least. Angels and Demons were natural enemies, with a long history of war and violence between our peoples. So why did being near him make me nervous? Was it just that my instincts recognized a threat, even if he’d presented none outwardly?

  Yes, I decided. That had to be it. Dumbass Angels and their self-righteous dispositions just made me uneasy.

  I was pushing my way to the other side of the crowd when my phone buzzed. I waited until I’d taken up a spot on the wall, with a good vantage point over the gathered, to pull it out and look at it.

  It was from the Superiors. My next Mark. A face and a location.

  And a timeframe that was much less than the forty-eight hours I was usually allotted to complete the task.

  This Mark was right here in Carson City, and they wanted the person dispatched within the next three hours.

  What the fuck?

  I stared down at the screen for another moment to make sure I had read it right. Indeed, I had. Slipping my phone back into the inner pocket of my black jacket, I tried to remember if they had ever before given me a timeline that was so scant. I was sure they had not. Panic tried to rise in me, my mind jumping to the conclusion that the Superiors must know that I was out helping the Angel try to locate the child, and were trying to force me back on a better path.

  I bit my lip, suddenly unable to focus on the task at hand. At that moment, I spotted an Accursed at the edge of the crowd, moving toward a back door that I was pretty sure let out into the narrow alley I’d passed through earlier. I followed her onyx gaze, and saw her target. He was a young handsome human with clothes that were too expensive for such an establishment, likely a wealthy college student who’d come out in search of the danger he’d never experienced in his sheltered life.

  From the look on the Accursed female’s face, he was about to get a deadly dose of it.

  Two more Accursed followed on the heels of the first, all trailing the male as he stumbled his way outside.

  I bit my lip, the minutes already ticking away for me to reach my Mark and complete my mission. Of course, the Mark was across town from where I was now, and would take a minimum of forty minutes to reach, and that was if traffic happened to be light.

  I made a snap decision that I hoped I would not regret, and followed the little group out into the alley, slipping the Gladius out of my waistband as I did so.

  I got there just in time to save the idiot’s life—not that I should care. It was the possible information the Vampires might have that I was after. The young man just got lucky that he was the benefactor of that task.

  I only needed one of them alive, so I made my entrance by revealing the blade of the Gladius, and removing the head of the one currently pinning the male in one smooth motion. The human who’d been seconds from becoming dinner let out a horrified gasp, but the other two Accursed turned toward me, hissing in anger, black eyes flashing.

  “Demon,” snarled one of them.

  The other caught sight of the small tattoo across the inside of my wrist, and added, “Ssssisssster.”

  The male was soon forgotten as the black eyed bitches turned toward me.

  I glanced over their shoulders and raised my brows at the young man. “Now would be a good time to run home, dumbass,” I said.

  This snapped him out of his stupor. He did as he was told, tripping down the alley and disappearing from sight.

  Meanwhile, the Vampires flanked me, looking for their opening.

  Kieran burst out of the back door before I got to have any fun. He removed the head of one of the Accursed in an even swifter fashion than I had, and pinned the other against the wall of the building before I could blink.

  The sound of a thousand snakes issued from her mouth, jaws spreading impossibly wide to reveal multiple rows of shark’s teeth. “Angel sssssscum,” hissed the Vampire.

  “Why are the Accursed after the child?” Kieran demanded.

  When the Vampire realized th
at this was the reason we’d killed her friends and were keeping her, she laughed. “Stupid quessstion,” she replied. “Even for a divine one.”

  He pressed his Angel blade a little tighter against her throat, and the milky white skin there sizzled. She struggled against his hold, but Kieran was as immovable as a mountain. “Answer,” he demanded.

  The Accursed spat, and the nasty saliva hit him in the face. If not for the seriousness of the situation, I might have laughed, because that was what he got for being so amused about the Wolf at the door earlier.

  I watched in no small amount of fascination as Kieran grew angry, his beautiful face darkening in a way that was undoubtedly intimidating. When he bit into his own wrist, drawing two beads of golden blood from the skin, my brows wrinkled in confusion.

  Then he placed his wrist to the mouth of the Accursed, the shimmering blood dripping onto her tongue.

  One would have thought she was being branded from the inside. The shriek she let out was so ear piercing that I cringed visibly. A moment later, her face began to swell, her eyes bulging slightly from her head.

  Angel blood must be poisonous to the Accursed. There was a fun fact I tucked away for later.

  “Why?” Kieran repeated.

  The voice of the Accursed was different now, strained and choked. “Why elsssse, you ssssimpleton? To use her in sssservice of the true massster when the war between mortals and men eruptssss.”

  “Where is she?” Kieran pressed, and when the Vampire did not immediately answer, he forced his still-bleeding wrist back to her mouth.

  She shrieked again, and I thought it a wonder that no one had come to see what the fuss was, though the music inside the building had been loud enough to drown out my own thoughts. On top of that, this was the part of town where bad things tended to happen.

  “Where?” Kieran repeated.

  The Vampire glanced at me where I stood behind Kieran’s broad shoulder, and a grin stretched across her face. “You sssshould know,” she replied.

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “Because the Sisssstersss have her.”

  10

  Once we’d ascertained that the bitch didn’t seem to be lying, Kieran killed her by removing her head in the same manner as he’d done the other.

  Then he turned toward me. “Did you know?” he asked.

  I sucked my teeth. “Are you fucking kidding me? Of course not.”

  The Angel’s eyes narrowed as if he wasn’t sure he believed me. Silence held for a tick. It seemed like the worst possible time to say it, but I had a clock ticking over my head.

  “I have to go,” I said.

  “Where?” he demanded.

  I bristled at the command behind the question, but for the sake of brevity, answered anyway. “I have a job.”

  “Right,” he replied. “The business of murder never sleeps.” Reaching into his pocket, he tossed me the keys to the motorcycle. I caught them from the air, refusing to examine the feeling his scorn had ignited in me.

  “Take the bike,” he said, and turned on his heels.

  I stared after him, about to ask how he was going to get around when two enormous wings shot out of his shoulders, the force of them stirring the hair around my face. I’d seen Angels before, of course, but only in passing in the human realm, which meant they usually kept their wings tucked out of sight. Kieran’s were magnificent, made of ivory feathers that gleamed like pearls. I barely got a glimpse of this before he shot up into the air, stirring my hair once more, and disappearing out of sight.

  I stood where I was for a moment, feeling silly and not really knowing why. Gathering a hold over myself, I turned down the alley and headed toward where we’d left the Harley. A moment later, I was revving it to life, speeding toward the location of the Mark I’d been given.

  While I rode, my thoughts kept coming back to the way Kieran had looked at me when the Accursed said the Sisterhood had the child, the accusation lacing his words. I hadn’t lied to him, of course. If the Sisters really did have Vida, I damn well hadn’t known about it, and that meant that I wasn’t supposed to know. And, anyway, who gave a shit what a haughty Angel thought? I hadn’t wanted to be involved in this crap in the first place.

  I shoved all this from my mind as well as I could, needing to focus on the task at hand. I now had a little over an hour and a half to find the Mark and dispatch him. Otherwise, I would miss a deadline for the first time in my entire career. The thought of this worked wonders in pushing the stupid Angel from my head, and I was relieved when I reached the location a few minutes later.

  I parked the bike a few blocks away from the building where the Mark was supposed to be, and located the specific apartment. Hopefully, he was home, because if I had to wait for him to return, I would be cutting things really close.

  The apartment was on the third floor, and I circled around to the rear of the structure, spotting a door leading inside. Knowing there was no time to waste, I took the knob into my hand and summoned my fire magic. A couple seconds later, the lock melted clean off the door.

  I pushed it open and slipped inside.

  The place was not as nice as my loft, but it wasn’t shabby, either. There were two elevators, but I opted for the stairs, making quick work of them, the timeline like an anvil hanging over my head.

  When I reached the third floor, I located the apartment quickly. Pausing at the door, I placed my ear against it to try and ascertain whether or not the Mark was home. I picked up the sound of classical music playing gently.

  Normally, I would take the time to scout the place, to make sure the Mark was alone before making my move, to get a feel for what I’d be facing. For obvious reasons, there was no time for this reconnaissance. I checked my wristwatch. The job needed to be completed within the hour.

  With a deep breath, I summoned my fire magic and melted through the lock on this door the same as I had the other.

  Then I pushed my way inside.

  The door opened into a hallway, which was dark and tastefully decorated. A gold runner ran up the center, and a small table with a potted plant sat to my right. Abstract paintings done in silver and gold hung along both walls at intervals, and just ahead, light spilled out of another room, classical music also overflowing.

  I crept forward, careful to place my steps lightly. Slipping a dagger out of my pocket, I paused just around the corner, picking up the sounds of someone moving about. My heartbeat kicked up in pace, which was not usual for me on such missions. At the Academy, we were trained to keep cool in all situations, to focus to the point of tunneling in, to maintain a command even over our involuntary functions.

  I chalked the nerves up to everything that had been happening as of late, and the oddity of the timeframe that I’d been given to complete this mission.

  With a final draw of breath, I peeked around the corner.

  His back was to me, but I knew he was my Mark as soon as I saw him. The curve of his head and the shape of his silhouette. The picture the Superiors sent to identify him had been blurry and distant, so I’d taken care to study it. One did not want to make the mistake of killing the wrong person. That would just be sloppy.

  He stood in the kitchen, busy chopping something or other, humming along with the music coming from what I saw now was an old fashioned record player. This space was decorated as neatly as the hall, and flowed into the dining room and living room without walls or borders.

  Dagger gripped in my hand, I left my hiding spot and crept up behind him, silent as a cat.

  I’d nearly reached him when his head popped up rather suddenly, and he swung around to face me. What followed happened very quickly, with little time to address thought to the matter. The knife he’d been chopping with was still in his hand, just as the dagger was in mine. He didn’t look surprised to see me, and he slashed out with the knife so fast that I had to dance back to avoid being cut.

  I saw then that though his face appeared human, his eyes were diamond slits, his tongue f
orked, mouth equipped with two curved fangs dripping venom.

  A Nagah. I’d never encountered one before. But I knew from my studies at the Academy that one bite was deadly.

  Things got messy. Which was the exact opposite of how I liked them. Normally, my Marks didn’t even know I was near them until it was too late. It was almost as if this one had been waiting for me.

  The Nagah advanced, movements snakelike. I met his attack head on, ducking another strike and jabbing my dagger toward his midsection. The blade tore through the fabric of his shirt but did not break the scaled skin concealed beneath.

  I received Marks who were both human and supernatural, but because the latter were always more difficult to dispatch, I was normally warned of their race beforehand.

  He flung his blade at me. I knocked it away, but absorbed the full impact of his body as he tackled me to the ground, knocking the wind out of me. I had not forgotten the dagger in my hand however, and I jabbed it toward his throat as we went down in a heap.

  The Nagah adjusted himself so that the brunt of the blade went into his shoulder. Warm blood trickled out of the wound and over my fingers. He struck at me with those venom-laced fangs.

  Bringing my knee up between us, I jammed it into his most tender spot, giving me enough room to wiggle out from under him. He groaned, one hand gripping his genitals and the other trying to grab my ankle and pull me down again.

  I scrambled to my feet, out of his reach. Uncoiling one end of my Calidi chain, I struck him hard against the cheek with it. His head whipped to the side. Before he could recover, I struck again, this time sending fire magic down the links of the chain. He let out a cry of pain as the metal stripped the skin from his face, the smell of burning flesh renting the air.