“It’s true,” Sara said, her voice scratchy from inhaling the coffee, “but he’s not out to hurt humans. Just vampires. He’s here because he’s working with Fabian d’Argento, the master vamp from San Francisco, to do something to Clyde. We’re not sure what yet—but whatever it is, it’s bad.”
The hunter withdrew, his normally easygoing expression gone grave, his eyes distant as he sized us up. I wasn’t entirely sure what he was thinking. He’d saved me from the clutches of Max Carlyle long ago. He’d helped Royce in the fight against Max and his cronies, ensuring New York didn’t fall into the hands of a bigger, badder monster. Would he see that, this time, the situation was no different? Clyde might not have been the ideal biggest bad on the block, but I hadn’t the slightest doubt that things around this town would rapidly worsen if the city fell into the hands of Fabian or one of his cronies.
Sara coughed into her fist, then started speaking again, holding Devon’s gaze. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Isn’t there any other way of stopping him? There’s been enough death already.”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to the others and see what they have to say.”
I took another sip of my coffee, my thoughts racing. If we couldn’t talk the White Hats out of sniping the poor bastard, that would be another death on my head. One was more than enough. There had to be something I could do to stop it.
Though I hated the idea of putting myself back in harm’s way, I wasn’t sure how else to warn the mage that he needed to get out of town. That was assuming I could find him before the White Hats did, or before the vampires found me, and that he didn’t try knocking me unconscious again. Or end up setting his zombies on me.
Why did I have to grow a conscience now? Things would have been so much easier if I had just stepped back and let all of the monsters in this insane town do their thing and destroy each other.
The problem with staying out of the mess was that I had no idea what Fabian might choose to do to me or to Sara once Clyde was out of the way. Royce had made no mention of him as an ally, and I was pretty sure that he wasn’t the other “friend” Royce had mentioned we might have been able to stay with if not for Max Carlyle’s interference.
It felt awfully coincidental that all of this was happening while I was in town. I hated that feeling, like someone had known in advance that I would be here, had planned for it, and was pulling strings behind the scenes to make sure I would suffer because of it.
“Sara, you look like you’re about to fall over. You want me to show you to a room?”
Devon’s words snapped my attention to my friend. He was right, of course. There were deep circles under her bloodshot eyes, her skin was more pale than usual, and she kept rubbing at her forearms through the fabric of her long sleeves as if they either ached or itched. It seemed a bit warm for that type of clothing to me, but then, it had been a long time since I’d seen her in any shirts that didn’t cover her arms all the way to the wrist.
As if I wasn’t feeling bad enough already, I felt like a shit for taking so long to notice that she wasn’t feeling well. Hopefully it was nothing more than a combination of jet lag and lack of sleep catching up with her.
With a nod, she rose, setting her coffee aside. She’d barely touched it.
He offered her his arm and walked her out. I stayed where I was, cradling my drink as I considered what to do next. I wasn’t going to abandon Sara again, but I was afraid of staying here with the White Hats now that Devon had revealed they weren’t beyond using tactics like shooting unsuspecting Others from afar. It shouldn’t have surprised me—White Hats weren’t exactly known for their temperance or compassion where Others were concerned—but it still bothered me that this was the same guy who had been so willing to work with Chaz and Royce for my sake.
I didn’t know what kind of defenses a necromancer might have, but a bullet to the head was usually enough to stop anyone in his or her tracks. The idea of murdering the guy because he had no respect for dead bodies seemed a bit harsh, in my opinion.
Then again, I was now—sort of—friends with a number of vampires, and had even slept with one. Not all Others were truly monsters. Or, rather, even if they were by nature a monster, it didn’t mean their actions or character were always villainous.
No more than the necromancer, anyway. He certainly wasn’t an innocent, and his actions weren’t completely aboveboard. Even if Trinity had been a bit of a skank, and kind of bitchy, it didn’t mean she deserved to die either.
This was all too much to think about after an all-nighter without coffee. I downed what little was left in my mug and looked up as Devon returned, his hands pocketed and his expression pretty sober considering his state of relative undress.
“She was almost out before her head hit the pillow. You guys must have been working hard.”
Saluting him with my mug, I made a face. “That’s us. Workaholics. It’s been nothing but fun-fun-fun since we got here.”
His lips twitched in a smirk. “I can imagine.”
He moved closer, and I couldn’t help but admire the fine play of muscles on his abdomen when he walked. No doubt, that was a gym-made washboard, but that didn’t make it any less fun to watch in action.
Once he reached the table, he hooked the chair next to me with his foot and pulled it out, sliding into it in a manner that I might well have called flirtatious if I hadn’t known any better.
Who was I kidding? Of course he was flirting. He’d expressed interest in me before he had left New York—why wouldn’t he want a few minutes alone with me? I could only imagine how quickly that was going to change once he knew what my relationship with Royce had become. If you could call what I had with the vampire a relationship.
Even so, I felt a pang of acute longing when I considered the possibility of staying here in Los Angeles and attempting to make a go of things with Devon. He might have been a hunter, but he was also human—the one thing I’d desperately craved in a relationship, yet for whatever reason had never been able to find.
Giving in to the temptation of that admittedly delightful body would smack a bit too much of betraying whatever it was I now had with Royce. Which didn’t make it hurt any less when I took the coward’s way out.
“I’m sorry, but I’m really wiped, too. Where can I crash?” And hide from an inevitable conversation I didn’t want to have?
Chapter 21
I didn’t get much sleep. When I took a look out the window, the sun was still high in the sky. There wasn’t much point in trying to get back to sleep; my stomach was growling, and I had too much on my mind to drift off again with any ease anyway.
I pulled some fresh clothes out of my duffel bag, frowning at the contents. Saving the master vampire of the city from a devious necromancer didn’t leave much extra time for laundry. I’d ask Devon what I could do about that later.
Sara was already downstairs and talking to Devon, Tiny, and a couple of other White Hats I recognized from that bar we’d visited. She was looking a little better, but there were still circles under her eyes, and there was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on that seemed a bit “off” about her. Maybe she was coming down sick.
Tiny got up, drawing my attention off of Sara as he pulled out a seat for me, giving me a friendly clap on the back that nearly sent me sprawling. With strength like that, the guy could have easily been mistaken for an Other. Probably something Were. I grinned and thumped him back on the arm before settling into the chair.
“We were just discussing what to do about this necromancer,” Devon said, giving me a look that I interpreted as “and you’re really not going to like the direction this talk is going, but try not to make a fuss about it, thanks.”