A Hunters Promise Page 2

  “I’m not sure,” Grimm said, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “It’s like, when I move from this area, I can’t locate it. The wind is coming from the direction of the bar, but if one of those things is in there, how do the humans not smell it?”

  Charon nodded, “I feel you. Because it’s not like Juan could toss on some cologne or some shit to cover that stink.”

  “Right, so I’m thinking it’s hiding around here. But I don’t really know why or where.”

  “Possibly looking for an easy human to grab?” Charon suggested.

  “Maybe, but from Joelle said, Juan wasn’t all there when he came hunting her.”

  “And what if someone else is with it?” Charon said as he searched the dark. “Controlling it, keeping it in check.”

  Grimm nodded, and the two men continued to search the darkness. Charon closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to catch what Grimm was scenting. Kenshin said Ancients often developed extra abilities, and obviously, a keener sense of smell was Grimm’s deal. Slowly, Charon began to pick out individual aromas and discard them. He turned his head, and for a moment, just a brief second, he smelled the rotten garbage smell and something else. It was the something else he concentrated on. He couldn’t tell where it came from, but knew it was important.

  “What is it?” Grimm asked.

  “It’s a scent that’s riding with the garbage, but I don’t know what it is.”

  “I caught that,” Grimm said with a nod. “It’s familiar to me, too. And it’s like trying to mask the other scent, but not get noticed.” Grimm rubbed his face, “Fuck, I don’t know. I’ve been at this so long I don’t even know what scent I’m catching anymore.”

  “How long have you been standing here?” Charon asked.

  The other man shrugged. “I’m not sure. A few hours, maybe.”

  “That’s crazy,” Charon muttered. “Let’s walk and see what we can find since standing here isn’t getting us anywhere but pissed.”

  Grimm didn’t reply, but fell into step as Charon pushed off the wall and started walking. The neighborhood wasn’t a bad one since it was made up of working families, a grocery, and a number of bar/restaurants. All in all, for a weekday night, it was quiet. Too quiet, really, for vamps to hunt humans. The lack of a crowd would make hunting incredibly difficult, especially since a regular vampire didn’t have the skills or abilities an Ancient had. Of course, the smell wouldn’t help either. Hard to hide in a crowd when you smelled like week-old rotten meat.

  They hunted the block for the elusive scent, but nothing turned up. Frustrated, Charon stopped and stared into the darkness surrounding them. Fuck, he’s rather be back at the hospital with Irish. For a human, she was a quick study and, more importantly, never asked any questions. She also believed in things most humans chose to ignore or overlook. She never asked where the things he taught her to hunt came from. She just wanted to know how to kill them. He liked that in a person. She also never hesitated. He’d seen Paranormal Investigative Agency agents die because they overthought a situation. Irish just whipped out the blade and hit hard.

  She also smells good. He stopped the thought before it went any farther. Of course she smells good, he rationalized, she’s a human. She was food to him. The blood pumping in her veins sustained his kind. But she wasn’t a donor. She was too young, anyway. Charon liked the humans he fed from to be at least mid-thirties and all business. They weren’t getting together to create a relationship or even to fuck. They were employees of the Paranormal Investigative Agency and, as such, were carefully screened to ensure they would make good donors to the five Ancients. Four Ancients, he amended. Talon now had Joelle who he fed from exclusively since she was his Liaison. Charon never wanted to get entangled with another person. That kind of permanent relationship wasn’t for him. In fact, other than Talon and Joelle, he’d never seen a good relationship, and he really didn’t know about them. He wasn’t sure if they stayed together because they had to or wanted to. His parents had split as soon as they realized he carried the Ancient gene. He ended up with his mother only because his father had left first, and then, within the year, she was gone too.

  At least she’d dropped him on the doorstep of a place that cared for vampire children. He’d heard stories of vamps growing up among humans, not realizing what they were, until it was too late. Very young, he’d realized that he didn’t need anyone, couldn’t depend on anyone, but himself.

  Training the human was becoming a drag, he decided suddenly. He’d spent too much time on her anyway. Yeah, too much time on her, and not enough tracking down the blood cult. He was done. He’d just tell her he was cutting her lose and get on with his job. Fuck, why should he even have to tell her anything? He’d shown up and found her. The training was just something he did to pass the time. Now, it was over. When he didn’t show up, she’d know what it meant. The end. Decision made, he and Grimm disappeared back to home base.

  Chapter Two

  Patrick James Flaherty sat back in his chair and sipped expensive bourbon. Soon, he promised himself, soon he’d have enough money to bathe in the stuff if he wanted. Right now, with his parents controlling the purse-strings, he didn’t have the freedom he craved to go and do what he wanted. He would, though, as soon as he got what he wanted. The man sitting across from him guaranteed it.

  “Your sister is Aislinn Flaherty?” the man asked again. “The one I read about in the old newspaper articles? The one who claimed a vampire came into her room and killed her roommate?”

  Patrick stifled the urge to roll his eyes. Damn, the man was tedious. All he wanted to do was talk about Patrick’s crazy sister, Aislinn, as if Patrick cared. She was someone his parents had locked away to be forgotten. The rich and powerful Flaherty family didn’t do crazy and certainly not crazy big enough to get in the papers. He’d grown up being told over and over to never talk about her. To never mention her. To deny she was part of the family. And he had, until this man had come along flashing money and asking questions. So, now, Patrick would talk to get what he wanted. It was totally his parents’ fault. If they were more generous with what was rightfully his, he wouldn’t have to talk about crazy Aislinn.

  He glanced around the small living room of his small home. Oh yes, he deserved bigger and better. “My family doesn’t like to speak of Aislinn. Her…condition is upsetting to us. My parents have spared no expense in her treatment, and it hasn’t done any good.” Patrick looked away and blinked quickly as he felt tears rise up in his eyes. Damn, he was good. The acting lessons were such an amazing investment.

  “Where is she?” his companion asked. “Do your parents care for her at home?”

  “No, there is no way they could manage that. She’s quite difficult. The private hospital makes sure she is well taken care of.” For what his parents paid, he thought bitterly, the place had better. Every year that crazy bitch sucked up more and more of what was his. If she would just die, things would be so much better.

  “Of course, private hospital.” The man nodded. “What’s the name?”

  “I don’t know if I should tell you,” Patrick said slowly. “Aislinn is quite ill. We work very hard to protect her.” And, he thought, I’m certainly not giving you the information for free. If the man wanted her, he’d have to pay and pay big.

  “I understand,” the man said, pulling out a checkbook. “I’m quite sure I can compensate your family for the information. I imagine it’s quite expensive to keep her well cared for.”

  “It is, and the money you pay will be well spent.” On me and everything I deserve.

  A check was pushed across the table, and Patrick schooled his face so the shock wouldn’t show. The number of zeroes staggered him. Why was information on his sister worth this much? What did the man want with her? Yeah, as if he cared.

  Patrick picked up the check. “You’re quite generous, Mr. Jennings. My family thanks you. This will go a long way in providing for Aislinn. She’s at The Palms Private Treat
ment Facility.”

  “You are so pathetic,” the man said, shaking his head.

  “What?” Patrick asked. “How dare you?”

  “It takes so little to buy you. So little to get you to turn your sister over to a complete stranger.” He shook his head. “But then again, she’s crazy, right? She has delusions that vampires exist. So, she’s really not worthy of your protection.”

  Patrick leaped to his feet. “You can leave now. I will not sit here and allow you to insult me in my own home.”

  “But you’re not tossing the money back in my face,” the other man stood, “are you?”

  “Get out,” Patrick ordered.

  The man laughed. As he did, Patrick noticed there was something wrong with his teeth. In the place of the canines were…fangs? Patrick blinked. That wasn’t right. Maybe he’d had too much to drink and was imagining it. That was it. It had to be. Vampires were something his sister imagined. Not him.

  The man calling himself Mr. Jennings smiled, and he indeed sported fangs. Patrick shook his head. The man was as crazy as his sister. No, crazier, since she only imagined she saw vampires. Did this man think he was one?

  “I don’t think I’m a vampire. I know I’m one, and in a moment, you will know it too.” The man stepped toward Patrick. “It’s too bad you won’t be able to tell your sister she was right. But then she doesn’t need you, does she?”

  In a split second, Patrick was lifted off the ground and began to scream as Mr. Jennings bit into his throat and began to drink.

  * * * *

  Aislinn stood at the side of her bed, putting her weapon together. For the last three nights, she hadn’t seen her trainer and tried not to think about it. In the months since she’d met him, he had come pretty much every night to work with her. The one time he missed, he’d told her ahead of time he wouldn’t be there. But, this time, he just didn’t show up. At first, she’d been really worried, but had to force that down. He didn’t owe anything to her. He was nothing to her. She couldn’t allow herself, wouldn’t allow herself, to care. Anything she’d ever had, had been taken from her. She had no friends, no family, nothing but herself.

  Family. Okay, she had family, but she hadn’t seen them in…five years? No, it had been longer than that. Eight? Maybe she was crazy since she really couldn’t remember. The time in the hospital ran together, and she sometimes forgot what day it was. The only time that was truly real to her was the nights. At night, she could hunt the hallways and kill the things that preyed on the only home she knew.

  A noise at the doorway interrupted her thoughts, and she tucked the naginata out of sight. Turning, she found a nurse leading two men into her room. She didn’t know the men, but a fission of fear raced down her spine. Something wasn’t right. That’s when the smell hit her. It was as if someone had opened a bag of rancid meat. Fear coursed through her; she knew that scent.

  “Aislinn,” the nurse smiled vacantly, “these two men are doctors. They want to see you.”

  “I don’t want to see them.” She eased her hand over and gripped her weapon. No doctors came at night, ever. And why didn’t the nurse notice the smell? “Besides, I don’t see anyone but Dr. Aikens.”

  “Thank you, nurse,” one of the men said. “We’ll take it from here. You can leave now.”

  “Okay,” she said and left the room.

  “What do you want?” Aislinn demanded.

  A tall blond wearing a white lab coat stared at her. “You will come to me. We are leaving this place now.” Without waiting, he turned to the other man. “Go get the car. I’ll bring her out.”

  The man nodded and left the room. The blond turned back and looked at Aislinn in puzzlement. “I told you to come to me.”

  “I heard you, but that doesn’t work for me.”

  She pulled the naginata out and swung it at the man. He leaped back in surprise, staggering over his own feet. As he fell in the hallway, Aislinn ran past him and down the hallway. She knew the building, knew the layout. The basement, she decided, that’s where she would be safe. A small part of her wished her trainer would appear out of nowhere as he was wont to do, but knew she was on her own. She had to depend on herself.

  She came around the corner and skidded to a halt. The blond lounged against the wall. How the hell did he do that? She got her answer when he smiled. Fangs glistened in the low light of the hallway. Fangs like the man who had killed her roommate. The years fell away, and she was twelve again, trapped and terrified while horrible slurping sounds filled her ears. She staggered back as a scream filled her throat.

  “I think you and I understand one another now,” he said, stepping toward her.

  She screamed and screamed again as she lashed out with the blade. It caught him across the chest, scoring him. Blood sprayed out, and he was the one who screamed then. She went to move around him, but he was too fast. He was on her and so was the rotten meat smell. It was coming from him. He ripped the weapon from her hands and threw it down the hall. It clattered and clanged as it hit the linoleum.

  “You will pay for that,” he murmured to her.

  * * * *

  Charon stood next to Reaper in the crowded bar. Grimm had scent-tracked a vampire to the place, and now, the three of them were trying to figure out where it was in the crush of people. A sense of unease rolled over him, and he checked the throng. A group of women saw him looking in their direction, and they all smiled. Normally, he’d wander up and make all of their acquaintances. It was easier to feed while he fucked them. Hell, in the end, they all walked away satisfied with no one the wiser. But he wasn’t in the mood.

  In fact, he couldn’t really remember the last time he truly was in the mood. He’d fed, he had to, but you didn’t fuck the donors at the PIA since they worked there. He didn’t want to get mixed up in any way with someone he’d see again.

  A nudge on his arm brought his attention around to Reaper. The big redhead rarely hunted with the others, preferring to do his own thing. But Kenshin had requested they start sticking together, especially if they ran across members of the blood cult.

  “Do you sense something?” Reaper asked. “I’m ready to fight, not hang out with a bunch of humans all night.”

  Charon shook his head. “I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right.” He scanned the room again, but knew whatever was bugging him wasn’t in the club. “I’ll be back.”

  He moved through the crowd toward the door, and as he did, his anxiety increased. Danger, he thought, there’s danger. He stopped on the sidewalk and searched the darkness. Not here. No danger here. But where?

  “What’s doin’?” Reaper called, as he exited the bar.

  Charon started to answer when the knowledge hit him. Irish was in danger. Without a second thought, he disappeared.

  * * * *

  Aislinn put her arms up to shove her attacker away as she kicked out. He easily pinned her to the wall as she struggled to get her legs up between them to force him away. She couldn’t let him get close to her neck. But nothing she did could break the hold he had on her.

  He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “When my master is finished with you, I’m going to fuck you and drain you dry. But, right now, I’ll have a taste.” Saying this, he bared his fangs and sank them into her left wrist.

  A loud growling filled the hallway, echoing off the walls. Aislinn struggled harder, trying to rip her wrist from his mouth. She didn’t know what new threat was coming, but she didn’t want to be there to see it.

  Charon materialized in the hallway of the hospital. A male vampire had Irish pinned against the wall, telling her how he was going to fuck her and drain her. Something snapped in Charon, an animal rage like nothing he’d ever felt before. Mine, the beast screamed in his mind, and he was on the other vampire. He put his hands on either side of the other male’s face and pressed into the jaws, forcing them open. Charon felt something pop under his hands, but he didn’t care. This man dared to touch what was his and he would pay.

/>   Aislinn slid to the floor as pain raced through her body. She tried to pull herself up, to crawl away, but she couldn’t get her arms to hold her up. She tucked her injured arm to her body and used her legs to push herself away. Away. Just away. Away from the pain. Away from her life.

  Hands held her, turned her, and Aislinn lashed out or tried to. Her reflexes were slow, and she batted at air.

  “Irish,” a low male voice said, “hold still. Fuck, he got you good. Fucker won’t ever hurt you again.”

  She blinked, trying to clear her bleary vision. “Bob,” she whispered, "you need to run. He’s here, some…teeth…fangs, bit me. Run. Hurt you.”

  “No, Irish, no, he won’t. I killed him. He won’t hurt you anymore.”

  Something warm ran over and over her mangled wrist. She tried to pull away, but he held her. “No, let me help you. Heal you.”

  “You can’t,” she said. “I’m too broke. Too broke for my family. Too broke, Bob.”

  “Charon, my name is Charon.”

  “Like the ferryman. Am I dying?”

  “No, you’re not dying. I won’t let you.”

  Charon gently ran his tongue over her wrist. What was once bleeding out of control had slowed to a trickle, but she still had lost quite a bit. He glanced over to where he’d tossed her attacker’s body or what was left of it. Had he really done all that damage? He didn’t remember, but had to have since no one else was there other than him.

  He continued to lick and savor the incredible taste of her blood. Irish was like a fine, rich wine that intoxicated him. He knew he should call for assistance, but her blood was too much to resist. Finally, he forced himself to stop and touch the ear bud he wore. A moment later, a female voice answered.

  “Whatcha need?”

  “I need a clean-up and a pick-up.”

  “Damn, dude, you busy or what? Tell me where and we’ll be there,” the female said as he heard keys clicking away.