Blade on the Hunt

by Lauren Dane

  Rowan didn’t bother arguing. Sometimes she hunted alone. If she felt the need to do it, Rowan would. Susan was just being motherly or whatever.

  They hung up, and she made a few more calls before she sauntered back into the salon where Warren had settled himself. She narrowed her gaze his way but he smiled and raised his glass her way. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. Now. Ew.” Rowan shuddered. “Ew. Ew. Ew. You’re like my uncle. I’m scarred forever.”

  Warren waved a hand her way. “You’re a grown woman. A power in your own right with connections to the very highest level in my government. Of course I was interested. But you’ve made your choice and I honor that.”

  “I made my choice a while ago.” She held up a hand realizing she actually had no interest in talking about this anymore. “Changing the subject now.” She turned to Recht and filled everyone in on the conversation she’d just had with Susan and her subsequent call to the investigator she set on Roth’s tail.

  David’s eyes got wide and then very narrow and Rowan approved mightily. He should be pissed off that someone he worked with was trying to have him killed. It would keep him sharp and focused.

  She’d take anger over fear any day.

  They planned their next steps as they began their descent toward Venice.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Clive knew he wore a smug expression but he didn’t care. She was his and she’d declared it in her own way, loud and clear. And she seemed content to let him be smug though he was sure her patience would fray soon enough.

  Still, he loved it when she indulged him.

  The boat that had met them at the airport took them up the Grand Canal a short bit until heading up several smaller and increasingly quieter back canals.

  Rowan had kept her eyes closed the entire way, her nose up to the wind. Hunting. But when they got close, she opened them and took in every detail, gaze flicking from spot to spot.

  Their driver expertly deposited them and their bags on a dock just outside an impressive palazzo. A tall man came out and bowed.

  Rowan’s expression changed once she recognized him. A smile replaced the intensity. “Ciao, Marcelo!”

  Marcelo took her hands and squeezed, speaking rapid fire Italian. But not. Venetians spoke their own dialect and clearly this Marcelo had grown up or spent a great deal of his life there.

  Rowan followed him inside, listening to him, nodding. The rest of them followed into what was an unexpectedly lovely space with high, exposed beam ceilings. Clearly the original structure. The house felt older than Clive was. It held a great deal of energy in the walls and floors.

  One of his favorite things about Venice was that he could stay in a place like this, rich with the lives of generations. It seemed to feed him the way extreme emotions fed him. Not as complete as blood, but it was the sort of energy that seemed to settle in his bones.

  Candles lit the space, casting a pretty glow over the furniture, an eclectic mix of restored antiques and newer pieces.

  At the entrance to the kitchen, Rowan hung her coat up. “Welcome to my home. This is Marcelo, my house manager.”

  Clive blinked.

  “Surprise. I only made the decision as we were flying here. I thought about a hotel, but this is safer. I can’t trust Hunter Corp. Not while you’re sleeping and we’re all working. It’s too big a risk. So I told Hunter Corp. we were headed to a smaller town away from Venice and that we’d handle our own accommodations.”

  Clive wasn’t angry or even hurt. He knew how she worked and that she’d made choices to keep him and the others safe satisfied him deeply.

  “Marcelo and his brother use the front of the house as their workshop. He keeps the house running while I’m gone.”

  “We have donors for the Vampires and a meal for David and Rowan,” Marcelo said in English, indicating a set of double doors. “The stairs are just through there. Head around them to the workshop. That’s where the donors are. Your things will be taken to your rooms.” He turned to Rowan, switching to Italian. “You said he was your man so I put him in your room.”

  She nodded and looked to Clive, knowing he understood every word. Which had to be on purpose because Marcelo said it slower and more clearly than his rapid fire delivery when they’d first arrived.

  Clive liked that. But he liked it even more that she’d told her house manager about their relationship. Let them into her home and was feeding them.

  He kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back shortly.” A small dip of his head to Marcelo. “Thank you for accommodating us so well.”

  The workshop, as it happened, turned out to be a place the brothers created clothing of some sort. Bolts of fabric were stored in racks, clothing hung, half finished on dressmaking forms. Most likely costumes for Carnival.

  Each new thing he learned about Rowan only made him hungrier to know her better. And the people she came across in her life before Clive had known her. The fabric of her life fascinated him, including the people who’d formed her—good and bad—into the person she was today

  “This is a lovely home,” Alice murmured as they headed back into the kitchen area after feeding.

  It had good energy. Rowan was happy in this place.

  David was at the counter when they entered the kitchen. “Your things have been put in your rooms. There’s wine and food in the salon too.”

  Clive grabbed the basket with the bread and David shrugged, opting for a carafe of limoncello. “Marcelo’s wife makes this. It’s very...potent. Just thought you should know in case you sipped it in front of him.”

  Alice laughed, delighted, as they followed David up a gleaming staircase. At the top they spilled into a far more intimate space than below. Here the wooden floors had beautiful rugs and the couches were sumptuous and inviting. Framed art hung on the walls, like the furniture downstairs it ran the gamut in style, and like the downstairs, it worked.

  There was a table at the end of the open space where food had been laid out.

  “Let me show you where you’re sleeping.” Rowan had changed into a T-shirt and soft pants she often wore to work out. He approved of those pants a great deal.

  “Alice, you’re here.” Rowan pushed open a door to reveal a room that faced the canal. “The windows all have light tight shutters that lock down totally. No one can enter unless they have the code.” She handed a sticky note to Alice. “I have an override. I won’t use it unless there’s an emergency.”

  “This is a remarkable view.” Alice went to the windows facing the canal.

  “There’s a bakery just around the corner. They’ll start at about three so you’ll all get hungry as you go to sleep.” Rowan’s voice held a tone Clive rarely heard. Content.

  “Come out to the living room and have some food after you freshen up. Marcelo’s wife isn’t here tonight, but she sent over a feast. Plus, she’s magic.” Rowan paused. “Like really magic, actually. She’s a conjurer. Anyway, good food. People you should know. Come out if you like.”

  David stayed behind to show Alice how to use the shutters as Rowan led Warren and then Recht to their rooms and finally turned to him.

  “You. Come along.” She took Clive’s hand and he followed her up another set of stairs.

  Her bedroom was nothing like her place in Las Vegas. This space was one created for relaxing. An oasis for Rowan the woman more than Rowan the Hunter or Vessel.

  Her movements were suddenly a little shy as she motioned to the bureau. “I tried to tell them not to unpack your stuff, but Marcelo ignored me and did it anyway. He liked your ironed underwear. I’m not joking. He said it was a good indicator of your character. I tried to tell him you were a bossy prick but he said that was all right as long as you knew how to fold fitted sheets. Then I stopped taking anything else he said seriously. Because hello.”


  “Your mind is a twisty, nonsensical place, Rowan.”

  “Says you.”

  “Indeed.”

  “All right, professor. But right now your things are in there and in my closet. It’s a big bed and I’ve got an office set up through there, which also connects to the main hallway so I can come and go in the daylight because the room next door is a safe way to do it.”

  “What I find so interesting,” he stepped closer, pulling her in with hands at her hips, “is that you have security shutters. Did you have special Vampire visitors before me?” He realized after he spoke that he didn’t really want to know if the answer was yes.

  It couldn’t be.

  He was sure. Mostly.

  “I did it to keep you all out so I could sleep at night. I usually can only get here once a year, though I spent a lot of time here for the freaking year the Nation poked at me after I staked the shithead Scion before you. But I like to sleep easy and make it impossible to break into my house while I’m sleeping and unarmed.”

  He blinked, realizing he’d totally forgotten that she must have been a target for younger Vampires looking to make a reputation for themselves. Or maybe older Vampires who’d lost someone they’d loved or made, or had a difference of opinion with her. Which were all easy to believe.

  “I wasn’t hiding it from you,” she replied like he’d said it aloud instead of the petulant thoughts rattling around in his head. “I hadn’t really wanted to stay here originally. It’s one thing for you to know about this place, but now so do Recht and Warren. Recht would tell Theo the location if asked. It’s his job. So I figured the Hunter Corp. palazzo would be opulent, like you Vampires prefer with fourteen staff people to each guest. But I wasn’t comfortable with my location being known by Roth. And I especially don’t want David’s location known now that I’ve learned Roth wants to kill him. Oh, I’m going to enjoy crossing that fucker’s life off my to-do list.”

  “If you feel that way about Hunter Corp. why do you still work for them? They don’t treat you right, Rowan, and it makes me angry.”

  “I don’t know why it would. It’s not happening to you.” She turned away but he knew her game.

  “Don’t lie. Of course you know why I’d be angry.”

  “I work for them because they were a way to make the difference I want to.” Maybe they weren’t anymore. He heard the unspoken words and the churn of her emotions brushed against his heart.

  She slashed a hand through the air to cease the discussion, trying to run again. “I’m going back down to eat. There’s scampi and scallops and oxtail soup. And fresh bread. I plan to get my carb on with bread every few minutes while I’m here.”

  He stood, watching her, gauging how far he could push before she punched him in the temple or stomped off.

  “Stop.” The word was quiet, but there was emotional force behind it and he licked his lips but didn’t break his attention on her. “Why? Why do you let them treat you like this?”

  “Why do you let my father tell you not to share information with me when you knew I’d be mad?” Rowan asked.

  “You’re stronger than I am.” That was nothing more than the truth as he saw it.

  But she paused, cocking her head. He’d expected a quick, bitchy retort, but she was thinking, which was far more dangerous.

  “You think so?”

  “Even growing up as you have, you think for yourself.”

  “And you think you don’t? Or that being a centuries old Vampire who now holds a significant part of the planet means you’re too obedient?”

  “It means I’m powerful enough to hold that land, but if I hadn’t been obedient I wouldn’t be Scion.”

  “If you hadn’t been obedient you’d be dead. There’s that.” She shook her head. “The reality of a Vampire’s life is obedience to his or her master. Theo isn’t going to fuck around with disobedience. He saw in you the power and cunning to hold North America. That takes plenty of thinking for yourself. You make decisions on the ground every day. It’s not the same.”

  It wasn’t, no. But he wanted her to see that too. No one was harder on Rowan than Rowan.

  “I’d tell you, you understand? If there was something I felt would have endangered you.”

  She cupped his cheek. Just a brief touch. “I decided earlier that yes, I do know that. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give Theo a hard time about it. Once he’s...better.”

  “I’m sure you will and I’m also sure you’ll be very careful when you do.”

  “There’s no other way to be with him.” She stepped back and pulled herself back together. “I’ll deal with Hunter Corp. in my own way. In my own time. Everyone needs to understand that.”

  “I’m not the only one who has brought concerns to you.” His words weren’t a question.

  She shook her head. “No, you’re not. But you all need to back up and trust me to manage my own shit.”

  “Darling Hunter, this is not about us not trusting you to manage yourself. This is about the people in your life wanting you to be treated with the respect you deserve.”

  She frowned, so delightfully confused it was nearly sweet and also a little sad.

  “Come on down or they’ll think I’m nailing you again.”

  He caught her, his hands at her hips. “We could make that reality.”

  She laughed. “You just did!”

  “Hours ago.”

  “Cool your jets. I have to go meet a source at sunrise and I haven’t eaten yet.”

  He kissed her, deliberately taking his time until she relaxed into him, her arms encircling his neck until they broke away long moments later.

  “Why not before sunrise so I can go with you?”

  “My source doesn’t know you. Plus she’s human so she sleeps at night like normal people.”

  “Don’t pretend this isn’t me asking you to be safe.”

  They started back down. “It’ll be daylight in Venice so you really haven’t seen it. But trust me, the garbage collection will be running full swing. Lots of people out and about. Barges, boats, shops opening up. Also, I’m sort of a badass. Or so I hear.”

  He hid his eye roll as they came out into the main salon area where people were drinking wine and eating. She broke away, heading back to the chair she’d left when she’d gotten up to show the Vampires to their rooms. She was greeted by smiles. Clive sat back, drinking wine and watching her interact with the others. After this mess was finished, he wanted to be here, just the two of them, to get to know Venice as Rowan and Clive.

  It only meant he needed to redouble his efforts to locate Enyo so they could take her out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  From her place next to Rowan at the sidewalk café, her source, Donna Goldoni, Marcelo’s wife, murmured quietly, “Across the bridge, three down. That palazzo with the closed shutters.”

  Rowan sipped her espresso as she looked the place over from behind her sunglasses.

  She took note of the outside alarms as well as the cameras and every few minutes a human guard would patrol along a roof level walk. A lot of security for a random rich person. “Who owns it?”

  “Here’s something you’ll find interesting. I started searching for the owners of each place I’d identified. That one over there took longer because it was a tangle. More than normal. Companies owned by trusts, owned by corporations, owned by, you get the idea. That palazzo? At the very end of that very long list of several other corporations remained Sangre International.”

  Motherfucker.

  “That’s some silence. It’s true then. Marcelo told me but I have to say I was skeptical.”

  “What’s true?”

  “You’re mated.”

  Rowan allowed herself the small joy of showing the ring off. But just a mo
ment before it got sappy.

  “While you’re planning how to get in that palazzo, tell me about the Vampire.”

  “I figured Marcelo would have given you a briefing.”

  “He’s a man. He doesn’t listen seventy percent of the time, and even then only if it’s about food or fucking. I know there’s someone and that this Vampire of yours irons his boxers and had tailored shirts. It’s love.” Donna rolled her eyes.

  Rowan laughed. “He’s the Scion of North America.”

  Donna’s delighted exclamation loosened Rowan’s spine. “He’s the British one, right? I’ve seen some pictures of him. He looks quite nice in a suit. He should try Italian next time.”

  “I’m sure he’d need medication and therapy to change tailors. He’s very...precise.”

  “Precise.” Donna thought that was quite funny. “You must make him insane. This is good. Men love women who drive them crazy. You must make it into an art form.”

  Rowan hid her smile as she thought about how she’d spent the first eighteen months she’d known Clive trying to provoke him into developing a neck tic. She hadn’t abandoned the plan entirely, but he was pretty nice to her most of the time so she kept that in reserve for when he really got on her nerves.

  “When I’m doing my job right, yes. And you know how much I like a job well done,” Rowan said.

  “Is it the sex? I hear things.” Donna waggled her eyebrows.

  “The sex is quite fantastic. But...” Rowan paused as a platter of meat, cheese and eggs was brought out to them along with still-warm bread.

  “But?”

  “It’s more than the sex. I like him. Most of the time anyway. And he knows my family and is still around.”

  “Of course he is! Your father is their First.” Always blunt, was Donna.

  Considering how borderline violent and crazy Theo could get, it was a double-edged sword to be in a relationship with the one person he considered his child. There were times she felt like it was her who held him, kept him from setting everything aflame.

  “He’s influential and powerful without me.” Rowan drew up one shoulder briefly. “And,” she blew out a quick breath, “we’re together. Like together-together.” She held up her right hand. “It goes on my right hand because that’s where I hold my blade.”