Toronto’s fuckheadedness was just part of it.
A heavy weight hung in the air, one he realized he would have sensed already if he hadn’t let himself get so caught up in his own problems.
Heavy— almost oppressive.
It all but choked the oxygen out of the air.
Rubbing the heel of his hand over his chest, he padded on bare feet toward the Master’s office.
H
UNTERS .
Memphis was lousy with them. The feel of them was an itch on her spine, but she ignored it. Once she’d decided to take the job, she’d driven the four hours to Memphis to start getting a lay of the land and the Hunters weren’t going to stop her.
Technically, they
couldn’t
… unless she went around breaking laws.
She wouldn’t, either. She had a job to do and she’d see it completed, come hell, high water or holier-than-thou Hunter types.
If she needed incentive, she had it in the form of a photograph tucked inside her back pocket.
Not that she really needed the reminder. His face was one she’d never forget. Actually,
none
of the boys Pulaski had taken were likely to be forgotten. Four kids, lost.
Four kids who deserved justice; Sylvia could give it to them, and all she had to do was find his trail.
She’d be a lot harder to dodge than the police, too.
She’d have to move quickly— in, out— assuming he was in Memphis.
If she’d done her homework right, the local Master here was Rafe, a vampire. He was a Hunter— no big surprise there. On the rare occasion a non-Hunter set up an official territory, it was usually somebody who was on good standing with the do-gooders of the freak world.
Mostly, Sylvia didn’t have much issue with Hunter types as long as they stayed out of her way. She’d much rather a Hunter get a Master’s call than a non-Hunter. Hunters didn’t go feral— it was like they didn’t have that ability to breakinside them— they somehow maintained that much needed humanity.
Or maybe they just didn’t have that innate cruelty. She knew all about that innate sense of cruelty. It was something she’d seen in both mortal and non-mortal. That was one reason she made a very, very good living. She got paid for killing cruel sons of bitches.
The Hunters did it out of altruism. She did it for a paycheck.
No, on a professional level, she didn’t have a problem with Hunters, as long as they stayed out of her way. They served a purpose and kept things under control when the monsters would have turned mortals into their personal play and feeding ground.
But personally, Sylvia didn’t like them and she didn’t want to have to deal with them, especially not when she was on a hunt of her own.
Master vampires were territorial bastards, and rumors were that Rafe, the local Master, was more of a bastard than most— he wasn’t going to tolerate having a murdering pedophile in his territory, but if she knew Hunters, he’d want to turn the man over to mortal authorities. Hunters did interfere with mortal issues, but when it was likely the matter would catch attention, they often let the mortal cops take the reins, guiding things like an unseen puppet master. Keeping in the shadows, not drawing any undue attention— after all, none of them wanted any of the mortals to know about them. Sylvia understood it. Attention to their kind was bad.
Letting monsters like Pulaski live was worse.
“In. Out.” She prowled around the house, keeping her distance, searching for signs of life, signs of the cops, signs that anybody might be watching her.
All she needed to do was find Pulaski… and get the hell out.
C HAPTER 5
T
ORONTO hadn’t even entered the office when Rafe’s gaze cut to him. The Master’s eyes were black, icy with anger and something else.
“No time for you. If you haven’t made that decision— get your brooding ass out of here. Actually, if you haven’t made it, that’s decision enough and I still
A heavy weight hung in the air, one he realized he would have sensed already if he hadn’t let himself get so caught up in his own problems.
Heavy— almost oppressive.
It all but choked the oxygen out of the air.
Rubbing the heel of his hand over his chest, he padded on bare feet toward the Master’s office.
H
UNTERS .
Memphis was lousy with them. The feel of them was an itch on her spine, but she ignored it. Once she’d decided to take the job, she’d driven the four hours to Memphis to start getting a lay of the land and the Hunters weren’t going to stop her.
Technically, they
couldn’t
… unless she went around breaking laws.
She wouldn’t, either. She had a job to do and she’d see it completed, come hell, high water or holier-than-thou Hunter types.
If she needed incentive, she had it in the form of a photograph tucked inside her back pocket.
Not that she really needed the reminder. His face was one she’d never forget. Actually,
none
of the boys Pulaski had taken were likely to be forgotten. Four kids, lost.
Four kids who deserved justice; Sylvia could give it to them, and all she had to do was find his trail.
She’d be a lot harder to dodge than the police, too.
She’d have to move quickly— in, out— assuming he was in Memphis.
If she’d done her homework right, the local Master here was Rafe, a vampire. He was a Hunter— no big surprise there. On the rare occasion a non-Hunter set up an official territory, it was usually somebody who was on good standing with the do-gooders of the freak world.
Mostly, Sylvia didn’t have much issue with Hunter types as long as they stayed out of her way. She’d much rather a Hunter get a Master’s call than a non-Hunter. Hunters didn’t go feral— it was like they didn’t have that ability to breakinside them— they somehow maintained that much needed humanity.
Or maybe they just didn’t have that innate cruelty. She knew all about that innate sense of cruelty. It was something she’d seen in both mortal and non-mortal. That was one reason she made a very, very good living. She got paid for killing cruel sons of bitches.
The Hunters did it out of altruism. She did it for a paycheck.
No, on a professional level, she didn’t have a problem with Hunters, as long as they stayed out of her way. They served a purpose and kept things under control when the monsters would have turned mortals into their personal play and feeding ground.
But personally, Sylvia didn’t like them and she didn’t want to have to deal with them, especially not when she was on a hunt of her own.
Master vampires were territorial bastards, and rumors were that Rafe, the local Master, was more of a bastard than most— he wasn’t going to tolerate having a murdering pedophile in his territory, but if she knew Hunters, he’d want to turn the man over to mortal authorities. Hunters did interfere with mortal issues, but when it was likely the matter would catch attention, they often let the mortal cops take the reins, guiding things like an unseen puppet master. Keeping in the shadows, not drawing any undue attention— after all, none of them wanted any of the mortals to know about them. Sylvia understood it. Attention to their kind was bad.
Letting monsters like Pulaski live was worse.
“In. Out.” She prowled around the house, keeping her distance, searching for signs of life, signs of the cops, signs that anybody might be watching her.
All she needed to do was find Pulaski… and get the hell out.
C HAPTER 5
T
ORONTO hadn’t even entered the office when Rafe’s gaze cut to him. The Master’s eyes were black, icy with anger and something else.
“No time for you. If you haven’t made that decision— get your brooding ass out of here. Actually, if you haven’t made it, that’s decision enough and I still
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