Hunter's Rise (13 page)

The cold hard fact was that she wasn’t any match for him.

They were two completely different classes, and it wasn’t even so much that he was a Hunter.

She’d met weaker-level Hunters before that she could have handled. This guy wasn’t one of them.

And why did he have to be a Hunter anyway… hell, even if he
was
a Hunter, she could have had fun dancing with him… if she had met him away from here. Off this job.

Hunger rubbed through her body in a sweet, burning ache, teasing her skin, making her fangs throb with the memory of his scent. How would he have tasted? She didn’t know. She didn’t feed from non-mortals often. She didn’t think she’d ever fed from a Master were. It was supposed to be one hell of a kick.

“Don’t think about it now,” she muttered as she settled deeper into the shadows. She was waiting for the door to that club to open.

She could remember the acrid stink of that fear from earlier— it had been like a cloud, and she’d taken it apart, bit by bit until she knew all the layers, all the traces.

Most vampires didn’t rely so heavily on scent, but Sylvia had long since come to accept she was about ready to max out in the power department. So she’d made the most of every ability she had at her disposal— she’d honed them, fine-tuned them until each one was a weapon or a tool of its own.

Strength. Speed. Her refined senses. She wasn’t a Master, but she had mastered her skills.

There was somebody in that club who smelled a lot like the man the Hunter had been trailing. Either very close friends… or lovers. Most likely lovers. They were together often enough that they wore each other’s scent like a second skin.

It was entirely possible that what one knew, the other knew.

Since she doubted she could get to the one the Hunter had
been trailing without his knowledge, she was going to focus on the other.

It was another forty-five minutes before her patience paid off.

A skinny, pretty boy dressed in denim shorts and little else came out, a cigarette in hand and a troubled look on his face.

“Hey.” Sylvia waited until his gaze swung her way. “You got another cigarette?”

He gave her an absent smile. “Sorry…”

Their gazes locked and he went mute, the cigarette falling from numb fingers, his mouth slack.

Sylvia caught the cigarette, careful not to break the connection between their eyes. “I need to ask you some questions. Answer me and you can go back inside. You won’t remember.”

“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.

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.

C
HAPTER 9