Dark Hunter

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2013 Shannan Albright

ISBN:
978-1-77130-486-3

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Cheryl Harper

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

As always, I wish to thank my husband whose patience and support makes writing these books possible. To Gypsy, whose encouragement never falters, and dear friend and awesome author Siobhan Muir, I can always rely on you to be there for a brainstorming of ideas. I can’t do this dedication without giving a huge thank you to the Evernight team who gave my Dark Breed Enforcers a home.

DARK HUNTER

Dark Breed Enforcers, 3

Shannan Albright

Copyright © 2013

Chapter One

March

The sounds of old town Las Vegas filtered through the air as the door to The Asp opened, seeming louder due to the lack of noise inside. Only blocks away from the Fremont Experience, music mingled with the voices of hundreds tourists.

The small bar sat on a run-down street, an empty lot on one side and an old shack
of a house on the other. A neon sign in vivid green and blue glowed in the dark shadows of the night, the image of a fanged serpent flowing between the letters of the name held a wealth of meaning to the owner of the establishment.

An icy bit of wind accompanied the
discordant sounds, and the flames of the candles on the tables wavered as the gust moved through the room. Winter’s chill hand still held the high desert region in its firm grip, refusing to relinquish its reign. The door made a soft
thunk
, dimming the outside noise to a mere whisper, and the ancient heater kicked into overdrive to warm the room.

The inside was dim
, encouraging shadows to gather into the corners and cling to the red leather booths, which ran down one wall and half of another. The long mahogany bar ran down the other side of the room near a single door, which led into a long hall of rooms. A dance floor graced the back near a raised dais where a DJ spun tunes on the weekends. But this was not the weekend and the bar stood almost empty with only a handful of regulars.

Mari Ankamunan poured a whiskey neat for the were and took his money. Business as usual.
Yeah, right
. The breeds teetered on the precipice of mass extinction and here she stood pouring drinks and chatting it up with her patrons as if nothing in the world had changed.

Everything changed, and for the worse.

The days of living undetected amongst humans had come to a violent end the past summer when some unknown entity destroyed the governors of the dark breed world known as the Tribunal. With the breeds plastered on every news channel all over the world, the enforcers who kept the breed laws and dispersed justice were at a loss. A whole new world engulfed them. One filled with blood, death, and betrayal.

Since that bloody
day, humans filled with hate had made it their mission to destroy all breeds. No one was immune, not even her. She refused to look at the door leading to the rooms where her vampire customers went to feed. The memory of her bouncer sprawled against the door frame, his head cradled in his hands flashed across her mind and she shuddered. She shook her head to dislodge the bloody image. Death had come into The Asp only a month ago, and the heavy pall of fear still hung in the air, thick and ominous. Mari tried not to dwell, tried not to remember the mind-numbing fear she’d felt as the purists led everyone into the back rooms. Thank the gods the night had just begun and few were in the bar that night, or it could have been worse, but not by much.

Without warning they’d seized two of Marcus Valerian’s enforcers unawares. She’d tried desperately to block out the sight of
the men bound to chairs with silver chains, the odor of flesh sizzling as they bit into unprotected skin. The agonized sounds of Christophe and Cody’s torture still brought bile crawling up her throat.

Mari
owed her friend Marcus, leader of the enforcers, her life. Being powerless to help his men shamed her. The memory of their suffering filled her with a hopeless rage. A burning need for retribution was not new to her, yet it made her uncomfortable all the same. It brought back a shit-load of painful memories best forgotten. Of a life before she turned vampire. Her life in Egypt as Cleopatra’s handmaiden flashed in her mind, cut short by an asp all because her
queen
demanded her handmaidens die with her. Most people born slaves would have been honored to rise to such a position. Not her. She wanted the freedom to make her own decisions.

Waking as a vampire turned out to be the best and the worst thing to ever happen to her.
No, she refused to think about her sire, gone for two millennia. Still couldn’t think about the three months they’d shared. The pain still ate at what was left of her heart. Unbidden images flashed in her mind of limbs entwined, hands and lips seeking, exploring. With a low growl she shoved the images of them together back in a dark corner of her mind. She'd learned to survive without him all this time and would continue to survive.

“Hey, earth to Mari.” Anya tugged on her arm, bringing her back to the present with a start. “Where did you go, girl?”

Mari shook her head, her beads clicking together as the braids swung down her shoulders and back. “Guess I’ve been doing that a lot lately, huh?” she asked wryly. She needed to get a handle on what had happened and move the hell on.

Anya’s sympathetic look grated on her. One thing she could never tolerate was looking vulnerable to
anyone
. She bit her tongue, realizing Anya meant no harm and the young vampire had her own demons to wrestle. Mari knew too well what the females under her roof had endured in their lives. The stories differed, but the results were the same. They were all broken in one way or another, even Mari.

“What do you need, Anya?” Mari got back to business.

“I was wondering if I could cut out early tonight. We’re kind of dead around here this evening. Pun intended.” Anya’s grin transformed the pretty blonde into a sexy siren most men couldn’t resist. “I’m kind of seeing Derick and since he as the night off…well…”

Mari gave her a genuinely pleased smile. The average-looking human wasn’t Anya’s usual fare. She went for those bad boy model types, but as long as he treated her well and didn’t settle arguments with his fists
, who cared? “Derick, huh? The same guy who’s been practically living here when you’re working?”

Anya’s cheeks reddened with a becoming blush. “Ah, yeah, that’s the one. I really like him, Mari. He’s so different from…well,
the type I normally go for. He’s…nice and treats me like a lady.”

“About time you realized you are worth so much more than the abuse you’ve dealt with in your past. Good for you. Now get the hell out of here and have a great time with your fellow. It’s not like we’re packed or anything.”

Mari let out a small sigh. Business had dropped dismally, not that she could blame anyone for staying clear of The Asp. Hell, if she didn’t own the damn place, she wouldn’t be here either.

For a brief moment she could have sworn Anya’s gaze hardened to a cold look of calculation, but she blinked only to find those blue orbs showing nothing but concern. Gods, she was losing it big time! She really shouldn’t be surprised.
Lately paranoia seemed to be her way of life. She jumped at every little thing these days. She and PTSD were close, personal friends even before the shit that happened here. “What are you waiting for? Get out of here. Just be careful, all right?”

Anya gave her a hug, promising to be safe, and turned to leave, only to stop like she was rooted to the spot. “Whoa, now that’s one fine specimen of the male variety.”

Anya stood nearly six feet in her stiletto heels, effectively blocking Mari’s view. With a particularly foul curse, Mari leaned over the bar to see who riveted the young blonde’s attention.

Mari’s breath left her lungs in a low wheeze as she stared at the one man she’d thought never to see again in this world.
The bar spun crazily as dark spots filled her vision. Her stomach cramped as it tightened, threatening to spill the contents of her late lunch. Her brain seemed unable to process the far flung ramifications of coming face-to-face with the man standing in front of her.

“My god, Mari! You look like you’ve seen a ghost
. What the hell is wrong with you?” Anya grabbed Mari’s arm to steady her.

Oh, gods, it can’t be!

The irony in Anya’s words hit her with all the power of a semi, leaving her mute, able only to gaze upon the man who sired her with a desperate kind of hunger. Like a woman dying of thirst, she drank him in and noted with surprise the changes to the man she knew two thousand years ago. The exotic almond shape of his pale blue eyes, eyes that seemed harder, shadowed with thick, dark lashes. The sharp line of an aquiline nose marred by the slight angle to the right as if his nose had been broken at some time. The angles of his face were sharper, leaner. He had an aura of predatory masculinity. Her eyes caught on those full, firm lips as she remembered the softness of them brushing over hers. Now set in a tight, firm line of tension, the lines bracketing his mouth stirred something in her gut. Her pulse kicked up a notch as she fought the need to trace her finger over those lines to ease the tightness there. His thick, long black hair glinted in the lights with a flash of sapphire highlights, falling in a straight shimmering mass down to his waist. Much longer than she remembered it being.

She couldn’t help relishing the expanse of golden skin stretched
over his corded neck, where his pulse beat out a seductive rhythm, making her mouth water. Her gaze followed his arms and the breadth of his shoulders stretching the seams of his blue cotton T-shirt. His deep, muscular chest tapered to narrow hips, and his toned legs were encased in low-slung jeans. He was everything hard and dangerous, his body more layered with muscle than she remembered.

And she remembered quite a bit.

This Navar knew hard times, survived them, and flourished. He’d changed into a harsh warrior capable of killing without a qualm.

Since the time of Cleopatra, she’d walked the earth and grieved for the man who towered in front of her. Shock, confusion and anger vied for supremacy. Her veins throbbed with the toxic mix. Her hands curled into fists as her fangs dropped.

“You are dead. I saw you die,” she managed to squeak past her constricted throat, her mouth dry as the desert she called home. “The hunters took your head. I barely escaped with my life.”

“There were…complications beyond my control. I came to you as soon as I was able.” His deep voice held the exotic flavor of the Middle East, reminding her of sultry nights and hot spices.

“For
two thousand years?
” The harsh bite of hysteria laced her words. Her reality was seriously skewed to the left and she feared her sanity had just hopped on board for the ride. Surely she couldn’t be standing here talking to her dead lover…sire…
whatever.

Anya kept glancing from her to Navar who was standing tensely, his gaze riveted on Mari. “Um, yeah, well, I’m thinking you two need to talk and…well, if you need me, call.” Anya backed away from the two of them and took off in a blur, leaving Mari to face this unexpected reunion alone.

Mari glared after her friend’s retreating back. She couldn’t face all of this right now. She needed time to think, to figure out what the hell she was going to do. It wasn’t everyday a woman was faced with the sudden appearance of a dead lover. She’d changed. She wasn't even remotely like the girl he once knew and she liked how she turned out—independent, meeting life on her terms, and to hell with anyone who didn’t like it.

Would he even like the woman
she'd become?

They were both strangers to each other. Three months was hardly enough to really know
someone. Had she fallen in love with an idea that the reality would never live up to? So many questions and no easy answers. She needed to regroup.

I will always be there for you.

She shook her head hard as Navar’s words swirled inside her head. Words spoken to her as she’d opened her eyes and saw him for the first time. Her first memory when she awoke as vampire. But it was a lie, and a sharp stab of pain struck deep in her heart.

He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly she didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. Not right now anyway. With a firm shake of her head, she raised one hand to stop him. “Forget it. There is
nothing you can say. Just go.”

Mari turned her back on him, praying he would take her advice and
disappear. Unfortunately, she heard him approach. His spicy scent of sandalwood and desert breezes swirled around her. She couldn’t help but take a breath deep into her lungs as memories long dormant rose to the surface in a surging tide of conflicting emotions.

The air stirred slightly, giving a modicum of relief from the burning heat of the day, now long
past. Wrapped in night’s dark embrace, the city of Alexandria succumbed to the blue-tinged shadows. The moon hung above the city, a glowing disc full and heavy in the evening sky surrounded in glittering incandescence of brightly burning stars.

Mari raced on silent feet through the city of her birth. Terror and dread mixed into a stomach-churning bile rising in her throat, and her heart hammered in her chest like some wild thing threatening to burst from her ribcage and take flight.

“Come, my love, we must hurry,” Navar urged, grabbing her hand to pull her along.

“I do not wish to leave
, Navar. Please, there must be another way,” she pleaded, knowing it would be futile, the choice to stay effectively taken out of their hands.