The Hunter: A Sinful Supes Novel (Red Crescent Book 3)

by Xandrie Kovak

  “I invite you in,” Clyde said.

  The small individual sauntered into the foyer, barely having to duck to get both coffins past the door jamb. Then the kid dropped the coffins. They hit the ground with a violent smack that echoed off the walls and vaulted ceiling. The box that landed nearest to me was silent as a grave, but the one next to Vicks was a different story. Whoever was inside began bellowing and striking against their confines. The entire coffin shook with the force of the blows. I half expected to see the metal dent outward.

  I took a step back. The guy inside that coffin did not sound happy. When I tore my eyes from the scene, I realized Batshit Blonde stood before me with her thin arms crossed.

  The little vampire looked like a twelve-year-old, yet had a semi-shaved head and dressed like she was about to attend a punk concert.

  “I like the new look,” she said with an approving purse of her lips. “Less bunny, more badass.”

  “Uh… Thanks?” I muttered, still in shock.

  “I never introduced myself properly.” She held out her ice cold hand. “I’m Vaughn.”

  I stared at it. I sure as hell wasn’t going to touch her, especially considering our last interaction.

  “It’s cool,” she shrugged and dropped her hand. “I hate vampires too.”

  I frowned. I didn’t hate vampires, yeah walking corpses grossed me out, but this was personal. I knew she was the one who had provided the U.S. Hunters with the evidence they needed to justify killing Lucas and myself. Not to mention, this crazy chick liked to scare the crap out of people by crawling on bathroom ceilings. So no, I didn’t hate vampires, just this one.

  “Is that why you’re holding one hostage?” I countered. Whoever was in the coffin was still making a racket. It made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. My eyes traced back to her and zeroed in on her cut-up black tank top, then my gaze roved over her pale, exposed flesh until I saw the edges of a scarlet day sigil tattoo. That explained why the sun didn’t burn her to a crisp.

  “Oh that?” She smirked, referring to the trapped, raging vampire. “It’s for you.”

  “What the hell is going on?” I stared them down waiting for an answer

  “They’re here on my request.” I nearly leapt out of my skin. Gabe must have snuck in while I was distracted by Vicks’ and Vaughn’s antics. He eyed the Southerner’s 6’8” frame hungrily, but Vicks didn’t react to the ogling. All he did was clench the toothpick tighter between his teeth. His hand may have inched closer to the holster hidden beneath his leather jacket, too, but it could have been my imagination.

  I glared at Gabe. “And why would you do that?”

  Didn’t he realize that these people were dangerous? Gabe had only looked at Vicks and I could already tell that the U.S. Hunter wanted to kill him. There were some seriously dark vibes coming from the cowboy that set off all my warning bells. Ever since I saw the lust in his eyes while he caressed crime scene photos, I’d known there was something off with Carson Vicks.

  “Because you, Claire, are too stubborn for your own good.” Gabe folded his arms as he stared right back at me. “I’d hoped you’d come to see reason, but it’s clear you won’t ask for my help until it’s too late.” He gestured towards the two psychos with the V names. “These kind people come bearing gifts that could save your life.”

  And then it hit me. I stared down at the coffins. “You want me to succubus-eat them?”

  My stomach rumbled. Saliva pooled in my mouth. My ever-present inner succubus purred. She shifted around inside me, and tested my barriers.

  She wanted that delicious swirling blue energy, longed to bathe in it. To lap it up.

  “Think of them as an emergency energy drink.” Gabe shrugged.

  His words jerked me out of my trance. An energy drink? How could he be so callous? There were people in those coffins.

  “Your reserves are low. If you will not allow yourself to be cured of your… affliction,” Gabe said the word like he’d tasted something foul. “Then we have to find another way to give you sustenance.”

  Translation: I’ve been pushing you hard so you’d fall into my arms quicker. But you’re a stubborn bitch, so now you need to kill the vampires and feed, or starve to death.

  I stared at the boxes, horrified. “No.” I took a step back. “I’m not killing anyone.” Never again.

  I clenched my fists and my fingernails stabbed into the flesh of my palms. I felt the phantom weight of a withered husk in my arms. Saw the desiccated fear in that shriveled face right before it exploded into dust.

  Vicks laughed. “What’d you reckon you’d do as a Hunter? Ya sure weren’t selected to sit pretty ‘n’ twiddle yer thumbs.”

  I whirled around. “Shut up, Vicks!” I wanted to slap the freckles right off the bridge of his nose.

  “Vicks? As in Carson Vicks, The Reaper?” Gabe piped up. He looked even more intrigued.

  The cowboy tipped his hat. A smirk on his lips, “The one and only.”

  “You have quite the reputation among Supernaturals,” Gabriel said with a slight edge to his voice. Only he and I could see the blue sparks dancing across Gabe’s offered hand.

  I didn’t say shit to warn Vicks.

  “It’s an honor to meet such an esteemed member in your field,” the incubus smiled.

  Vicks looked down at the hand and then raised an eyebrow. “A reputation I didn’t gain by walkin’ into traps. Nice try, incubus.”

  Gabe looked affronted. “I would never!”

  Liar.

  “Even so, I’m sure you’d understand if I don’t take that hand of yours.” Vicks gestured to Batshit Blonde. “This is Vaughn, my associate and a dear friend to the United States Hunters.”

  The little vampire waved Vicks away, “No need to threaten him. Gabriel and I go way back. He won’t eat me.”

  She winked at Gabe and offered her hand fearlessly.

  “Vaughn.” My mentor bent down low and kissed her child-sized knuckles. “A pleasure as always.”

  “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” she quoted with a smirk. They shared a look reserved for co-conspirators.

  A massive hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Ready to feed?”

  I shoved Vicks’ paw off me. “Don’t touch me.”

  Vicks made a tsking sound. “Aw, and here I was thinkin' we could be pals. Like it or not, Claire-Bear. We’re stuck together.”

  Claire-Bear? What the hell? I wasn’t his goddamn Claire-Bear. Only my parents called me that. When I was five.

  “We aren’t friends, Vicky,” I mocked.

  He chucked my chin and winked, “Sure we are.” He turned to Gabe. “I’ll take the room next to Claire’s.”

  I rubbed my chin, trying to scrub away the taint of his touch. “You’re not going anywhere near my room.”

  Clyde stepped forward wearing a satisfied smirk. “This way, sir.”

  I gaped at Clyde the Manservant. More like Judas.

  “I’ll take these guys to the dungeon. It’s still functional, right?” Vaughn asked.

  “Of course,” answered Gabe as he tossed a pair of keys to her. She caught them midair. A sudden whoosh of air exploded in my eardrums. By the time I blinked, Vaughn and the two coffins were gone. A wooden interior door swinging to and fro was the only indication of her passage.

  Holy shit! Vampires were fast!

  The sound of carefree whistling drew my attention back to Vicks, who had his bag slung over his shoulder. I watched as he climbed the staircase. Not a care in the world.

  “Be careful with that one,” Gabriel murmured as he glared at the Hunter’s back. Then his gaze trailed down to Carson Vick’s butt. “Though I see the appeal.”

  I frowned. “If you like assholes.” I resisted the urge to tack on ‘pun intended.’ Sure, Gabe and I had become friendly, but we weren’t friends. I didn’t want to give him more of the wrong impression. Especially since he seemed convinced that we’d eventually sleep together.

  Gabriel smirke
d. “Haven’t you noticed? I like everything.”

  Before I could react, he caressed my cheek. Revulsion shuddered through me. I slapped his hand away. “Would you stop doing that?”

  The incubus shrugged, “Just checking.”

  Then he grinned mischievously.

  I narrowed my eyes and stepped back. “What are you planning?”

  Gabe’s grin grew devious. “Time for the real training to begin.”

  “Your control is still shaky,” Gabe said, arms folded.

  I mirrored his pose. “How can you tell?”

  Blue sauce wasn’t exactly shooting out of my fingertips. I thought I was doing pretty well.

  My mentor lifted his eyebrows and then pointed at Giles’ erect penis.

  I pursed my lips. Yeah, that was kind of damning. But…

  “Couldn’t that be a rogue boner?” I countered. “For all we know he could be thinking about getting it on with a certain incubus.”

  Gabe grabbed me by my shoulders and turned me around to see a row of men, all sporting boners and staring at me hungrily.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  “You’ll get better with time.” He released me. His touch was more bearable when it was over clothes. No matter how many times I complained, he’d made it his mission to introduce casual touch between us ‘for my own good.’

  “This may seem a little counter-intuitive, but the more you seduce, the easier it will be for you to stop it,” Gabe continued. “Essentially, the more you use a muscle, the better awareness and control you’ll have. Repetition helps train yourself to recognize it. Once you’re able to recognize it, you can put a stop to it when you’re accidentally exuding. Understand?”

  I nodded.

  “Tell me the order of seduction for the general populace, easiest to hardest.” He idly petted Giles’ jaw. The dark-skinned man closed his eyes and leaned into his touch. A flare of blue sparks shot across his body.

  Giles moaned and orgasmed on the spot.

  I side-stepped the ejaculate and recited, “Vampires are the easiest. Then humans including witches, other fae are next, and ferals are typically the hardest.”

  Gabe leaned in and consumed the snack that Giles’ release had offered. “Good.” He licked his lips then walked over to a redheaded woman with an hour-glass figure and a birthmark on her knee. “Why are vampires so easy?”

  The woman tilted up her head, desperately awaiting a kiss.

  I stared at the blue residue on Gabe’s lips. My hunger was getting to the point where I was tempted to lick it off. My stomach growled. Gabe’s sensual smirk snapped me out of it. He was doing this shit on purpose.

  “Since vampires are already dead, they have less of a grasp on their life source. In your words, it’s ‘easy to pluck’ which is why I was fortunate to run into a vampire that night. If it’d been another Supe, things could have gone a lot worse.”

  He leaned in and kissed the redhead. “What’s the problem with vampire energy?”

  I sighed and shook my head. Glutton.

  “It’s potent but burns out quickly.” Especially if you don’t know what you’re doing, I thought. “The amount of energy you can receive from a vampire varies on a multitude of factors: how recently they’ve fed, their age, etc. Not to mention, if you feed off one of the undead it’s extremely hard to stop, commonly resulting in an accidental true death. That’s what ultimately set off the blood feud between vampires and succubi.”

  Gabe clapped his hands. “Very good, you even went for the extra credit.”

  I didn’t smile at his praise. Honestly, throwing myself into training was the best way to distract myself. Besides, I’ve always been an honor roll student. I felt right at home sinking my teeth into a new subject.

  “Why are ferals exceptionally difficult targets?” Gabe moved on to another woman. It was a cruel and unusual punishment to watch him eat when my stomach felt so hollow. My inner succubus was constantly alert, always ready to spring. I could feel her prowling, hunting beneath my skin.

  “Trick question,” I said. “Lone ferals are easy pickings, but those in a pack structure have an extensive energy tithe system all feeding into their Alpha. It’s particularly difficult to tap into without the Alpha’s permission, and if you do manage it, it can be extremely dangerous.” I glanced away from him. “You might just get more than you bargained for.”

  Gabe nodded sagely. “Exactly. Think of a tick that gorges on so much blood it explodes. Don’t be the tick, Claire. Now, what I want you to—”

  The door banged open. Vicks entered the room carrying two large tactical bags.

  Vicks did a double take when he saw the naked blonde woman kneeling by the door. I’d long since gotten used to seeing people being treated like furniture or servants around here. For the first few days it had made me extremely uncomfortable, but since then, I’d come to realize that these people were perfectly content with the way things were, in fact, it seemed like they very much enjoyed being enthralled by Gabriel Benson.

  I suspected that’s one of the reasons why he chose his profession. There was no shortage of sycophants and desperate fans on his waiting list. No, Gabriel Benson didn’t hunt. His prey came to him and signed a release waiver while they were at it.

  “Can we help you?” Gabe sounded pleasant, but I could tell he was pissed by the interruption.

  Vicks set his bags on a table and unzipped them. “Got my own lesson for you, Claire-Bear.” He withdrew an assortment of guns from each bag. He laid them out smallest to largest, starting from a mini purse piece all the way to assault rifles.

  “Every Hunter needs to know how to shoot,” he drawled past a toothpick. Last night, when I went out onto the balcony I’d caught him smoking on his adjacent balcony. I had beat a hasty retreat, but clearly Vicks had an oral fixation. The man always seemed to have a cigarette or a toothpick in his mouth. And right now, said mouth was smirking at me.

  “I know my way around a gun,” I said flatly. Camilla’s father, Papa Carlos, was a card-carrying member of the NRA. He’d taken Camilla and I to the range every couple of weeks, from the age of fifteen till the day I transferred to Fort Lawrence College in Colorado. Though neither she nor I were particularly interested in guns, we’d humored him and went along.

  Although I wasn’t a big fan of firearms, give me a shotgun and I could shatter the hell out of some clay pigeons. Papa Carlos used to praise my clusters too, especially for speed shooting. I’m pretty sure I became an honorary member of the Alvarez household when I shot my first bullseye.

  “Sure ya do, darling.” Vicks smirked. “Even so, I’m going to start off with something easy.”

  He reached for one of the medium sized handguns. The condescending asshole was about to show me the safety. I could just feel it.

  I stepped forward, feigning curious interest.

  “Oh, you mean this forty-caliber pistol here?” I grabbed it out of his hands then disassembled it and reassembled it in twenty seconds flat. I slapped the gun on the table and turned to Carson Vicks with my arms folded. “That’s a nice Berreta 96, but I like the AR15 better.” A lot of people mistakenly believed an AR15 was an assault rifle, mainly because it looked like one, not to mention they thought that’s what AR stood for, rather than the company that developed the gun. However, the big difference was the lack of selective-fire capabilities. To prove I knew a thing or two, I added, “Though I’m kinda curious about that assault rifle you’ve got there. Being a civilian, it’s a bit difficult to get my hands on one.”

  I could go on, but I’d made my point. I wasn’t as inept as he obviously thought me to be. I wanted to watch the smug expression melt off Vicks’ face, but it appeared my little show had only deepened his grin.

  Gabe cleared his throat.

  “Like I was saying before we were interrupted,” Gabe pointedly ignored Vicks. “The shape-shifting trick I taught you is all but useless when it comes to feeding. You could look like a corpse and still get people to throw thems
elves at your feet — provided you had enough energy to lure. However, everyone is different, and pose varying degrees of challenge. For instance, overcoming one’s natural inclinations is more difficult. Carson, would you be so kind as to participate in a demonstration?”

  Vicks narrowed his eyes. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”

  Gabe grinned like a shark. “Oh, I insist. Are you willing?”

  Vicks slid his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “Depends. Who’s gonna be doing the demonstratin’? You or her?”

  I frowned. What the hell was his angle? Obviously, the demo would be done by Gabe.

  Vicks just wanted to mess with me.

  “This lesson is about persuasion.” Gabe stepped forward and circled the large cowboy. “And I have a feeling our dear Claire wouldn’t need to do a terrible amount of persuading. However, am I correct in assuming you’re a bit homophobic?”

  Vicks laughed. “I don’t care what you stick your pecker in, jus’ keep it the hell away from me.”

  Gabe smirked. “Perfect.”

  The incubus shot out a gallon of blue electricity, completely covering the hunter’s body. Vicks dropped to a knee and panted, his eyes closed in exquisite pleasure.

  Flashbacks played behind my eyes: Lucas staring at me hungrily, wracked with longing, an electric cage of blue lightning.

  I swallowed. Shit, that was hot.

  I gaped as Vicks threw off his black cowboy hat and leather jacket, seemingly desperate to rid himself of the offending clothes. His chest rose and fell with extreme exertion. Like his heart was about to explode if he didn’t get to touch Gabe skin to skin.

  Vicks moaned and ripped his shirt off. It was pretty over the top, something you’d never see in real life outside of a strip club. He revealed pale flesh, chiseled pectorals, and ripped abs. But more shockingly, he was coated in scar tissue and black and gray tattoos. Not the pretty kind either. I’d bet my lunch money they were prison tatts.