Succubus Blues by Richelle Mead Page B

that Duane had been found dead—with a stake through his heart.”
    â€œThere. You see?”
    Peter looked at us expectantly. We all looked back, baffled.
    â€œI don’t get it,” I finally said.
    Peter sighed, again looking utterly put out. “If you are a mortal who has the semidivine ability to kill a vampire, it doesn’t fucking matter how you do it. You can use a gun, a knife, a candlestick, or whatever. The stake through the heart thing is hearsay. If a normal mortal does it to a vampire, it won’t do a damned thing except really piss the vampire off. We only hear about it when a vampire hunter does it, so it carries some special superstitious lure, when really, it’s only like that egg thing on the equinoxes.”
    â€œWhat?” Hugh looked totally lost.
    I rubbed my eyes. “I actually know what he’s talking about, as scary as that is to admit. There’s this urban myth that eggs balance on their ends during the equinoxes. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but the truth is, you’d get the same results any time of the year. People only try it on the equinoxes, however, so that’s all anyone notices.” I glanced over at Peter. “Your point is that a vampire hunter could kill a vampire in any number of ways, but because the stake gets all the attention, that’s what has become the accepted method of…‘revocation of immortality.’”
    â€œIn people’s minds,” he corrected. “In reality, it’s a pain in the ass to drive a stake through someone’s heart. A lot easier to shoot them.”
    â€œAnd so you think this hunter is an amateur because…” Cody trailed off, obviously unconvinced by the compelling egg analogy.
    â€œBecause any vampire hunter worth his or her snuff knows that and wouldn’t use a stake. This person’s a total newbie.”
    â€œFirst,” I advised Peter, “don’t say ‘worth his snuff.’ That expression’s out-of-style and makes you sound dated. Second, maybe this hunter was just trying to be old-school or something. And even if this person is a ‘newbie,’ does it really matter since they managed to take out Duane?”
    Peter shrugged. “He was an arrogant asshole. Vampires can sense vampire hunters at close range. Combined with this one’s inexperience, Duane should have never been taken. He was stupid.”
    I opened my mouth to counter this. I would be among the first to agree that Duane had indeed been both arrogant and an asshole, but stupid he was not. Immortals could not live as long as we did and see as many things as we did without gleaning substantial know-how and street smarts. We grew up quickly, so to speak.
    Another question moved to the forefront of my reasoning. “Can these hunters hurt other immortals? Or just vampires?”
    â€œOnly vampires, as far as I know.”
    Something didn’t add up here between Peter’s comments and Jerome’s. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was bothering me exactly, so I kept my misgivings to myself as the others chatted on. The vampire hunter topic soon became passé, once they’d decided—with some disappointment—I hadn’t contracted anybody. Cody and Hugh also seemed content to buy Peter’s theory that an amateur hunter posed no real threat.
    â€œBe careful, you two,” I warned the vampires when they were getting ready to leave. “Newbie or no, Duane is still dead.”
    â€œYes, Mom,” answered Peter disinterestedly, putting on his coat.
    I gave Cody a sharp look, and he squirmed a bit. He was easier to manipulate than his mentor. “I’ll be careful, Georgina.”
    â€œCall me if anything weird happens.”
    He nodded, earning an eye roll from Peter. “Come on,” said the older vampire. “Let’s get some dinner.”
    I had to smile at that. While vampires getting dinner