Calloway shifted the curvy leg off his lap and leaned forward. “I wish you had come sooner, so you could watch firsthand. I wonder, who will hunt the hunter?”
Bile rose in her throat as she imagined the multitude of reasons he might be suddenly targeting Bennett. And here she thought she was done with Calloway fucking with her life. She held her expression bland but knew Calloway could feel her pulse pounding under her skin.
Like a fascinated student becoming the teacher, he expounded, “I’d never heard of a demon hunter being changed, and I’m sure, like me, you’ve heard any attempt would be unsuccessful. And if the attack fails? None of us wants to be the target of hunters, so few have ever tried.”
“And here I’d heard you took out an entire team a few centuries back.”
“I don’t like to brag–”liar, “–but that rumor is true. Took dozens of us, the best of the best, but I survived.”I, not we.
Regret darkened her vision as she imagined how many he’d let die, vampires or not, in pursuit of his plan. Although she had no wish to return to that life, she’d had friends she’d abandoned when Logan had found her and offered a freer, peaceful eternity.
Calloway leaned back into the couch and snickered, tracing his tongue over his teeth. Still smirking wide, his pale eyes locked onto Adair. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. I stumbled upon a prophecy. You know how those demon hunters love recording the predictions from crazy old seers.”
“Oh boy. Please tell me you’re not falling for one of their attempts to bait you into something?” She folded her arms over her chest, cocking her hip out to the side. One clue. Come on. Did he have Bennett already? Where?
“I can tell the difference. This was genuine, from the library of a fool that thought he could take me alone.” He sighed, satisfied as he relived the memory. “There will be a hunter changed. Fated to crave as the vampires do.”
A frigid chill stiffened her spine. Steadying her voice, she shook her head as if he were daft. “Demon hunters can’t be changed. And even if this ‘prophecy’ comes to pass, that passage says nothing about the hunter’s fate once turned. I crave human blood, but that doesn’t mean I drink the stuff. And I sure as hell wouldn’t join your dimwitted minions.”
“Changing a demon hunter alone is a worthwhile experiment, but I have much bigger plans for him. Whatever his preferred drink may be.”
Closing her eyes, she took a long inhale, refusing to suppress the memories that still ate away at her, of the bizarre thrill inherent to vampires that had led her to destroy so many lives. Successfully resisting human blood had taken years of practice, of accepting what she was, what she had been, and not acting on those cravings. “You intend to change a demon hunter, hoping they will succumb to your thrall like a typical progeny? And not just any demon hunter, but one that is stronger than average, even more than when we took out a handful of your friends in one night? You’re going to get your ass kicked.”
His pale eyes danced with merriment. “Oh, your lover hasn’t only grown stronger since you took him last. I’ve been watching. He’s developed a bit of a temper. But, although he could be a hell of a killer, I don’t give a fuck what he eats, who he answers to, or who all he kills… or doesn’t.”
“Is avenging Sonra really worth the risk?”
He nipped his lower lip, licking off the drop of blood and closed his eyes and smirked. “Sonra brought on her end, you’re not wrong. I would have ended her myself for her lack of subtlety. But as her death was in the name of my goal, she deserves vengeance. Lucky me, the prophecy pointed to your little playmate. See? Fate. I’ve been dreaming of the day I get to rip out your heart like you ripped out mine.”
Her pulse accelerated, her heart about to beat out of her chest as adrenaline screamed at her to take him out now, before he could do any damage. Frozen in place, she calculated her odds of getting out of there alive if she tried. The bodyguards, the vampires that listened keenly on their conversation… Today was not the day.
Sitting up, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, unblinking. Knowing her well, he saw right through her. “You’re too late. It’s already done.”
Arresting in her chest, her heart refused to beat. “Where is he?” she seethed through gritted teeth.
He wasn’t saying more. And she was out of time. She turned on her pinpoint heel and stalked toward the exit.
“Adair?”
She held her position but didn’t turn back.
“If at any point you think you might get a happily ever after? Know that I will be right there, ready to take it from you.”
She took off, heels not even touching the ground, needing to find Bennett before he hurt someone.
Chapter3
Industrial District, Seattle, 3 Days Ago
Downshifting as he neared home, the garage door opened, and he pulled into his warehouse. Glancing around the vast, hollow space, he crossed toward his living quarters, his footsteps echoing off the steel walls. Dim lights swung overhead as a gust of wind rushed through in one last furious blow before the room sealed shut.
At the foot of the stairs, he halted and turned, opening the door to his training room rather than turning in for the night. No padded flooring for demon hunters, the concrete was roughened by years of training, mostly by him, but the team joined him often enough to make a few respectable dents. Bypassing the wall of weights and machines, most of which he’d broken and had yet to replace, he crossed the abraded floor. He pressed his thumb to the lock and shoved open the garage-style door, unveiling a wall of weaponry, mostly filled with those passed down through his family for generations. Plus a few sharp objects he’d picked up along the way.
They’d landed as the sun was setting, the clouds lowering to coat the city in freezing mist. Lana had crossed to the next hangar over, hopping into her plane to fly home to Sitka. Astrid and Bodie planned to spend a few more nights in their Elliott Bay home before returning to Montana to catch up with Bodie’s werewolf pack. And Vann had driven home to San Francisco.
When they’d left Quinn, Ryan and little Skye, they’d stood waving goodbye from the front porch, an adorable family unit. Skye had been cradled in Quinn’s arms, nuzzled against her neck. Protective despite his heavy lids, Ryan had wrapped his arm around them, a kiss for each.
Too restless to settle in for the night, Bennett snatched his favorite sword and shield, tempered and re-tempered dozens of times since his great-grandfather had aided his team to victory in the vampire uprising of 1483. Perfectly balanced, the sword was like an extension of his arm. It was always risky, bearing the unsubtle weapon in public, but few were foolish enough to walk in this neighborhood at night, unless they were looking for trouble of their own.
