Sandra Dee! Run, baby, run—
The scream pierced her mind and her hands pressed harder against her thighs. No, can’t think about that now.
Not with Pak watching her like she was some kind of lab rat.
“Been a long time since the city saw a vampire rampage.”
Her face had been ice cold, now her cheeks burned with pinpricks of heat. “Yeah. About sixteen years.” Could have been yesterday though. Because those blood-soaked memories weren’t ever gonna fade.
Mama? Not sleeping. No, she wasn’t sleeping in her bed.
Pak’s head cocked to the right. “I need you to be straight with me, Dee.”
Now that snapped her out of the past. She sat up, fast, eyes narrowing. “I’ve always been upfront with you, Pak. Always.” There wasn’t a shadow in her life he didn’t know about. Without Pak, she would have been on the streets.
No, she would have been dead.
She’d been eighteen and he’d given her a place to stay. He’d taken shit for it, too. A forty-year-old man bringing in a stray from the streets.
Sex hadn’t been an issue with them, though most folks didn’t buy that. Course, Dee didn’t give a shit what most folks thought. Pak hadn’t been a father figure. She’d had a father. Pak had just been someone to keep the monsters at bay.
Then someone to teach her how to kick the monsters’ asses.
And he’d been someone who understood loss.
“This is different. This case is going to be different.” The man was so still. She’d never understood how the guy could be so motionless. She was always moving. Twitching. Tapping.
“It’s just another vamp,” she said, and tried to believe the words. “Born Master or Taken, they can all die.” Just getting them to die was the tricky part.
Getting them to die again.
“If you can’t handle this, I’ll put Zane on point. He can go after the bastard.”
“Zane doesn’t know vamps like I do.” Zane Wynter was a good hunter, no denying it. But the demon didn’t understand the undead like she did.
A pause from Pak. “Zane also isn’t human. He won’t have your…weaknesses.”
Oh, now, that was just hitting below the belt. So Zane was half-demon. Dee shot to her feet. “Charmers don’t have any damn strengths that put them above humans, either.” So the charmers could talk to animals—yeah, like that was an advantage when you were hunting paranormal predators. Over a dozen agents at Night Watch were charmers and they had no advantage over her.
She stared down the lead charmer. “I’m not weak.”
“Never said you were.” Another pause. Jeez but the guy was always working the silences. That tactic used to drive her crazy. Okay. Still did. “Never said I was going to put a charmer on point, either.”
No, just a demon.
“Zane would be a lot harder to kill than you,” Pak said flatly.
“Maybe.” Yes, dammit. Freaking demon strength. He wouldn’t have been caught unaware last night. “But I’m one hell of a better vampire killer than he is.” True and so what if she sounded bitchy?
His nod had her breath easing out. “Yes, you are.” He pointed a finger toward her. “But you’re going to need help on this one. I want Zane watching your back.”
Not going to argue. She could always use the demon’s powers.
“And I’ll get Jude to come in for cover, if we need him.”
Ah, Jude. The tiger shifter who was currently blissed out with his new mate. Dee gave a nod. No way would she turn down a shifter’s nose when she was tracking a vamp.
Her pounding heartbeat still shook her chest, but her palms were dry now, and she asked, “So what’s the target’s name? Which badass thinks he’s taking over our city?”
Pak smiled then, his gator grin, and Dee’s muscles locked. “Don’t know who is he. Just what he is.” He inclined his head toward the file. “Intel says word is ripping through the city about the BM. No name. No face. Just the knowledge from every witch and psychic in the area that power is coming through—and it’s coming through hard.”
Her brows shot up. No name? “Then who’s the client on this one?” There was always a client with Night Watch. The agents didn’t hunt for pleasure. They weren’t supposed to, anyway. They hunted the Other because the cops couldn’t track those killers. When a supernatural went on a killing spree, the higher ups at the Baton Rouge PD called in Night Watch.
Sure, the Night Watch team brought down some humans every now and then, just for the sake of keeping their cover in place as a legit bounty hunting agency, but the paranormals were the real targets.
Pak straightened his already straight suit. “On this case, I’m the client.”
Damn. He must think this threat was serious because Pak never let the cases get personal. His rule number one.
“And Dee—I want this bastard taken down, got me? Because I don’t want to see blood pouring in my streets, not again.”
With a Born Master, that could happen. Hell on earth could happen with one.
“Consider him staked.” Easy words, hard job. But she’d do it, because no way was she going to stand by and watch innocents get slaughtered by vamps gorging on blood.
As Pak had said, not again.
Time to sharpen up her stakes and hit the hunting grounds.
The music was terrible, the food was shit, and the crowd of dancers were all but screwing on the floor.
Dee leaned against the bar, trying to ignore the throbbing in her temples and letting her gaze sweep past the throng inside Onyx.
This was the eighth club she’d been in since she’d hit the streets. Humans only. Well, mostly humans. Onyx catered to the unaware, and that made the place perfect for vamps. So much easier to pick up prey when the humans didn’t realize the danger they faced.
They didn’t realize it, not until their dates stopped seducing them and started feeding from them.
By then, it was too late to scream.
Her nails drummed on the bar. Zane lounged in the back corner, his emerald gaze sweeping over the room. Some big-breasted blonde was at his side. Typical.
Jude hadn’t made an appearance yet. But he would soon. She’d use his nose to sniff out the place. See if he could detect the rot of the undead and—
“Let me buy you a drink.”
She’d ignored the men beside her. Greeted the few come-ons she’d gotten with silence. But that voice—