I'll Be Slaying You

Simon shook his head. She was so not what he’d been expecting. “You didn’t answer me,” he said and tried to ignore her scent. A heady scent, rich and dark. A woman’s sensual flavor.

She licked her lips. A quick swipe of her tongue that had his cock jerking.

Definitely not what he’d been expecting, but he wasn’t going to complain. No way.

“Trust me on this, you don’t want to know.” She shuffled back a few steps and tossed him a careless smile. “Thanks for watching my ass tonight, Chase.”

Then she was gone. Turning away and marching through the cops still on scene, and he kept watching that ass. Nice and firm, round enough to hold tight.

Yeah, he kept watching that ass, right until the moment she disappeared around the corner.

He waited a beat. Two.

Then he stalked after her because he wasn’t about to let his prey escape that quickly. There’d be no fun in such an easy exit.

He followed her, giving brief, polite nods to the cops as he made his way past their vehicles.

It only took a moment to realize that Dee wasn’t headed back to the main street. His eyes tracked her. No, the woman wasn’t retreating to the safety of her car. She was snaking through the back alleys, going even deeper into the underbelly of the city.

And she wasn’t even glancing back.

Because she was hunting, too.

What the hell? The woman had almost been shot, shouldn’t she be hesitating a bit? His hands fisted as he followed her. The night closed around him, her, and they both hunted.

The minutes ticked past. Another tight corner. Another alley. He kept her in his sights. His nostrils stung because these streets reeked. Garbage. Shit. Who knew what the hell he was stepping in as he trailed her?

The woman had better be worth this effort. She’d better—

He rounded another turn, one that led him between two thick buildings.

Dee had vanished.

He froze and stared straight ahead.

A soft footfall sounded behind him. Could have been a whisper, could have been—

Simon spun around and came face to face with Dee. She was armed, not with a stake this time, but with her gun, and the lady had it pointed dead center between his eyes.

He probably should have acted scared. Should have mumbled some kind of half-assed apology for following her.

Instead, he just stared at her.

“There a particular reason why you’re tailing me?”

The gun didn’t waver. Those sexy-as-sin lips pressed into a thick line.

“Yeah.” He allowed himself a glance down her body. He’d have to be careful with her. He kept forgetting how small and fragile she was.

Maybe because of the gun. Maybe that was making him forgetful.

She acted tough. But that body—soft curves and sweet, tender flesh.

“Eyes up, asshole.”

Apparently the lady didn’t like him ogling her breasts. Fair enough. “You left before I could get your number.”

Her jaw dropped. “What?”

He shrugged. “Your number. I mean, I saved your life. Shouldn’t I at least be able to get your number for that?”

She growled and finally lowered the gun. “Look, buddy—”

“Simon Chase.”

“Whatever. I don’t have time for this shit. I’m not going to screw you because you shoved me into the pavement. And, just so you know, I didn’t need you to save me. Not like it’s my first ball game, okay?”

I’m not going to screw you. Hmmm. “Don’t remember asking for a screw.” Though he wouldn’t refuse one with her. “Just your number.”

She barred her teeth. Pretty teeth. White and straight. Not too sharp, though, but then, she was human.

His tongue scraped across his own teeth. A bit sharper than hers.

“I’m working now, I don’t have time for this—”

“Yeah, you never did answer my question.” Simon cocked his head to the side. “Just what kind of work do you do?”

She holstered the gun. “The kind you wouldn’t understand.”

Doubtful. “Let’s see…you had a wooden stake and you were about ten feet away from a vampire the first time I saw you.” He paused. “I’d say that makes you a hunter.”

Her gaze raked over him. “So what? You know about vampires? Good for you.”

“Oh, I know about vampires.” Too much about them. “I also know about the demons and the charmers and the shifters that are running this city.” He even knew her boss, Jason Pak. Pak was the Night Watch Agency. He’d started the bounty hunting business almost twenty years ago, and Dee was one of his top hunters.

But she didn’t need to know that he’d already researched her.

His hands were loose at his sides now. “I know all about the Other.” The humidity from the hot July night had his shirt sticking against his flesh. “And I stopped being afraid of the monsters in the dark one hell of a long time ago.”

Her lips parted.

“Fucking hunter.” A snarl, high-pitched with fury.

Shit.

Simon’s stare shot over Dee’s shoulder. The vamp was there, blood dripping down her arm, her fangs bared and her eyes glazed black.

“I’m going to rip your throat open and drain you dry, bitch, I’m going to—”

Dee shifted her stance slightly. Simon’s gaze jerked back to her. “Sure you’re not afraid?” She whispered.

He gave a curt nod.

“I’ll slice your lover open! He’ll beg for death. He’ll—”

Dee spun around. The stake was in her hand. Wow—he hadn’t even seen her grab it and now the wood was in her hand, no—it was in the air. Flying end over end in a deadly arc.

Then sinking into the vampire’s chest.

The vamp gave a muffled scream and dropped to her knees.

“I wanted to take you in alive,” Dee murmured. “But you just couldn’t make this night easy, could you?”

The black faded from the vampire’s eyes.

Dee squared her shoulders and stalked toward the vamp. “And he’s not my lover.”

“Not yet,” Simon said and realized that he was impressed.

Sandra Dee had taken down her prey. She hadn’t let him distract her. She hadn’t given up and faded away when the cops appeared.

And when given a chance for the kill, she hadn’t hesitated.

Interesting.

Finally, exactly what he’d expected.

A team from Night Watch came to clear the alley. The vamp’s body was taken away, hell if he knew where. But, then, he didn’t really care.

Tonight’s exercise had been very fruitful. In all, Simon was pleased with the progress that had been made.

Of course, if he’d gotten Dee’s number, he would have been more pleased.

Next time.

Simon stepped into the shadows and rapped against the black door that waited in the darkness. It opened instantly and he crossed the threshold, already pulling out his money.

The man inside was small, squat, and he had his gun cradled in his hand. Greasy black hair was slicked back from his forehead and his beady eyes gleamed when he caught sight of the cash in Simon’s hand.

The guy reached for the bills—

Simon snatched his fingers back. “You hurt the human.”

Sweat trickled down the man’s cheek. It was hot as fuck in there. But, hell, it was summer in Baton Rouge, it was hot as fuck everywhere. “D-didn’t mean to, when you took the woman down, the bullet clipped him—”

Clipped him, hadn’t killed him, and that was why the shooter was still alive. “I want you out of town, tonight.” Simon kept the money out of the guy’s reach. “If I ever see you again, you’re dead.”

A gulp.

Simon leaned in close, close enough for the shooter to see the intent in his eyes. “And it won’t be an easy death.” Those he delivered rarely were. “Do you understand?”

The man managed a quick nod.

Simon tossed the money to him. The bastard had done his job. He’d taken the shot at Dee. Given Simon the perfect opportunity that he’d needed.

The human’s injury just hadn’t been part of the plan.

Simon turned away from him and headed for the door. There was more work to do. Always more.

The bullet slammed into his back, a hard punch of fire that burned through skin and muscle, and tore right through the bone.

He hit the floor hard, his face slamming down and the blood pouring from his body. Dammit.

Should have seen that one coming. You just couldn’t trust killers these days.

He heard the creak of footsteps and caught the whisper of excited breath. “N-nobody threatens Frankie Lee.” Another shot. This one fired into the back of his right leg.

Simon didn’t cry out. He locked his jaw and battled the pain.

“You’re the one who won’t get an easy death, asshole.” Another shot. Left thigh this time.

Sonofabitch.

Frankie grabbed the back of Simon’s head and wrenched his face up. The gun barrel stared back at Simon and the scent of burning metal filled his nostrils. “Nobody threatens—”

Simon lunged off the floor. One jerk of his hand and he broke Frankie’s wrist.

“Fuck!” Frankie’s face bleached of color.

The gun clattered to the floor. Simon didn’t even glance at it. He wouldn’t need the weapon. The gun really would be too easy, and so not his style.

Simon grabbed the squirrelly bastard, wrapped his hand around Frankie’s throat, and pinned him up against the wall. Frankie’s fat legs dangled a good two feet off the ground.

“How the hell—”

Simon smiled.

Frankie started to shake.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Simon whispered, the scent of his own blood clogging his nostrils. “You had your chance.”

Now, it was his turn.

Chapter 2

“Ready for a new case?”

Dee glanced up when Jason Pak strolled into her office. The guy had on one of his fancy suits—always, the fancy suits—and he was smiling.

A smile from Pak was never a good thing.

Dee slowly eased her feet off the desk. “What kind of case?” She’d been thinking about taking a break. Maybe heading over to Biloxi and staying at one of the casinos and enjoying the beach.

He shut the door. No sound. Pak was good at not making any noise. He’d told her once that he’d learned to hunt and track with his Choctaw grandfather.

And that he’d learned to kill by trailing his Korean mother.

He crossed the room and tossed a file onto her desk. “We’ve got word that a Born Master is in town.”

Her blood froze. The ice thickened inside of her, then rose to coat her skin as the chill enveloped her.

Born Master. She licked dry lips. Okay, not a lot scared her, but those bastards did. “What’s a BM doing in this city?” Born Masters were rare, thank Christ. Only a handful were in the United States. Most of them preferred to stay in Europe or Africa.

Born Masters were the vamps who were born bloodsuckers. Well, okay, technically, they were born looking human, acting human, but they weren’t.

Eventually their bodies stopped tolerating human food. The hunger for blood consumed them. Their teeth sharpened. Their senses kicked up to super level, along with their strength.

And then you knew, those freaks weren’t human. They were pretty much immortal.

Pak gave a shrug and his dark eyes never left her face. “I’d guess he’s looking to build a beautiful little vamp army.”

Her back teeth locked. The disease of vampirism had come from the genetic jokes that were the BMs. The Born Masters had gone out, bitten their prey, exchanged blood, and what should have been a few DNA freaks way back when—well, they’d multiplied. Nearly swept away a whole country back in the Middle Ages.

Black Plague, her ass.

It was so easy to rewrite history sometimes. Especially when you were trying to stop the humans from panicking.

Dee pressed her palms against her jean-clad thighs. The better to wipe the sweat away. Because, yeah, she was sweating. Taking down a Born Master wasn’t an easy task. BMs were too strong. All the ones she’d ever heard of were close to a millennia old.

In the vamp world, age brought strength. Especially to the Borns.

“The streets can’t be flooded with Taken,” Pak said, crossing his arms over his chest and watching her with the cold stare that always saw too much.

She rolled her shoulders and tried to look like her heart wasn’t about to break out of her chest. “Maybe the bastard isn’t planning to change folks.” The Taken were the vamps who were killed, then reborn to a life of blood and fury. Not everyone could survive the transformation. “Maybe he’s just looking for some kills.” Her voice was cool, expressionless. “Could be he just wants a bloodbath.”

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. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">