Deadly Pursuit (A Blood Hunter Novel, #2)

by Nina Croft

  “You’ve brought a pet? How nice.”

  A low growl trickled from Jon’s throat, and a smirk flashed across Bastion’s face. His gaze shifted to Alex, and he examined her as though she were something interesting or…tasty.

  “So are we good?” Rico asked.

  “Of course. Su casa es mi casa,” he murmured. “Now, I must be off. This meeting has made me…peckish.” He looked again at Alex as he spoke, and a knot tightened in her belly, her breasts ached, her nipples hardening. She tried to turn away, but she was drowning in his blue eyes…swaying toward him. A hand clamped down on her shoulder and yanked her back, and she shook her head, trying to clear the haze.

  “Get a grip,” Jon barked, and the spell was broken.

  She brushed his hand away. “I’m fine.”

  Bastion nodded once then swung around and disappeared the way he had come, his guards following. Alex watched him, her whole body trembling.

  “I’m hardly likely to be attracted to a vampire,” Jon mimicked her earlier words.

  Her gaze flashed to his face. For a moment, he appeared furious, but he quickly regained control and the expression was wiped clean.

  “Get lost,” she said.

  He breathed in. “You wanted that bastard. I can smell it on you.”

  She really hoped that was an exaggeration. Glancing around she realized everybody was staring at her, and she ground her teeth. “Shut up.” Shoving her hands in her pockets, she turned her back on him only to come face to face with Tannis and Rico.

  “Will he be okay?” Tannis asked, nodding in the direction Bastion had disappeared. “He won’t give us up for the bounty?”

  Rico shrugged. “I don’t think so. To be honest—I don’t trust him. But he hates the authorities, so he’s unlikely to give us up to either the Church or the Collective. And he won’t board El Cazador. That’s my territory, and there are some lines he won’t cross.”

  “Which lines will he cross? What about the crew?” Tannis asked.

  “That’s more problematic. The thing is, Bastion just doesn’t see people as important. He sees you as…”

  “Food?” Jon provided.

  Rico grinned. “Exactly the word I was searching for. Bastion won’t understand why I’d give a shit if he fucks Al’s brains out, drains her dry, and then dumps her corpse with the rest of the leftovers.”

  He held her gaze while he spoke and a shudder ran through her. She knew he was trying to frighten her. And he was succeeding. Her fingers toyed with the cross at her throat. Maybe she should ask if it would help. But she couldn’t make herself, in case he made her throw it away—vampires hated crosses, didn’t they? Despite her doubts, her cross had been a big comfort over the last few months. Especially when Rico was around.

  “So what’s the deal with Al? Why’s he so interested?” Tannis asked.

  “Bastion likes…innocence.”

  They turned to stare at her now, and she fought to keep from squirming. Typical. This whole innocent thing was driving her nuts. It was hardly her fault. She caught Jon’s amused stare and glared.

  “Hey, don’t blame me,” he said.

  The problem was she did blame him. It was all his fault. She whirled around and stalked up the ramp into the relative safety of El Cazador, leaving the faint murmur of everyone planning their trip into the city in her wake.

  Chapter Six

  They took one of Bastion’s speeders into Pleasure City, dropped Tannis and Skylar off on the outskirts to visit the shipyards and find the spare parts they needed to repair El Cazador, before taking Janey and Daisy to the shopping district to stock up on supplies.

  Jon sat beside Rico as they continued into the heart of the city, the speeder gradually slowing to a crawl as the traffic grew heavier. After five minutes of sitting in the tail fumes of an ancient speeder-cab, Rico swerved into a parking space.

  “Come on, we’ll make better time on foot.”

  Jon climbed out and was instantly assaulted by the incessant clamor. Noise crashed into him from every side, the raucous cries of street vendors, the roar of speeders, the low throb of music spilling out from the clubs and bars lining the street. Even the air crowded in on him, thick with the stench of fumes and too many people, liberally mixed with a nauseating fusion of every type of food available to man.

  Psychedelic lights flashed, making his head spin.

  “Don’t you love this place?” Rico said. “It’s so alive.”

  “No.” Jon hated the place. He’d spent a considerable amount of time doing business here, and each time he visited, he hated it a little more. A sudden longing for the forests and mountains of his home planet washed over him—the clean air, the silence of the nights. He hadn’t been back since his pack was slaughtered, and he rarely allowed himself to think of the place.

  He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the pressure in his head. When he opened them, he found Rico watching him.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Jon said.

  “One thing first,” Rico replied. He reached back into the speeder and handed a weapons belt to Jon. “You might need it. I don’t want to have to protect you if things go bad.”

  Jon took the belt, strapped it on, and felt instantly better with his hand resting on the pistol. Pleasure City was not a place to be unarmed.

  “Just don’t shoot me with it,” Rico said. “It won’t kill me, but it will piss me off. Now where are we headed?”

  Jon had commed a few people, so he had a good idea where to find his contact. As long as no one had warned the traitor. Deke was a slimy bastard and liable to slither away if he caught wind someone was asking about him. “A bar called The Longest Night.”

  “I know it. Let’s get this done and get back to the ship.”

  The sidewalks were thick with people, but the mass parted as he and Rico approached, giving them plenty of space. Jon glanced sideways at the vampire. It wasn’t obvious what he was, but it was obvious he was dangerous. A dark aura hung about him—he radiated a barely restrained power.

  “Look at that.” Rico pointed up at the wall.

  A flashing sign filled the whole of one side of a three-story building. It took Jon a second to realize he was staring at a huge image of Al in her priestess persona.

  “They really do want her back,” Rico murmured. “Who would have thought it?”

  “Maybe you should send her back. She would be safer.”

  Rico shrugged, and they walked on. “I’m not in the business of making people safe. If Al wants to be safe, she knows what to do.”

  Jon’s life would be easier if she went back to the Church. For some reason, Al clouded his thinking. And right now, a vague worry niggled at his mind. They all thought Al was quiet and obedient. That she’d do as she was told and stay on the ship. But Jon knew the obedience thing was an act, like the cabin boy disguise. And she was a good actor. Except when her eyes gave her away. He’d seen her reckless streak, and he didn’t think she had the common sense to stay out of the vampire’s way. Maybe she even believed Bastion was the answer to losing that virginity she seemed to find so onerous. But surely even she wouldn’t be that stupid. Would she?

  This was exactly the reason he hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. He didn’t want to worry about anyone but himself. He wasn’t any good at looking after other people. They tended to die on his watch, and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

  “You want me to wait?”

  He realized he’d come to a standstill in the middle of the busy street. Rico was watching him, one eyebrow raised.

  “What?”

  Rico nodded to a window where a pleasure provider sat, showing off her wares. Jon hadn’t even noticed the woman.

  “You seem pretty tense. Perhaps you could do with a little relaxation.”

  Jon had nothing against them. They provided a service—one he had used often in the past. But he looked at the woman and felt nothing. No stab of desire. It would be easie
r if he did.

  “Fuck off.”

  He strode off and heard Rico’s low laughter behind him. “Fucking vampire,” he muttered under his breath. Just because he was getting it regular…

  “So what planet do you come from?” Rico asked.

  “Why the hell do you care?”

  Rico shrugged. “Just trying to make conversation.”

  “Well, don’t bother.”

  They walked in silence. This time it was Rico who stopped. “This one I insist on,” he said.

  They’d come to a halt outside a clothing shop. Jon peered down at himself. He never really thought much about what he wore unless he was cold.

  “You look like a complete dork,” Rico pointed out. “It’s not good for my image to be seen with you.”

  Twenty minutes later, they stepped outside. Jon dressed in dark pants and a shirt, adding a black trench coat that covered his weapons. He’d also ordered a whole load of stuff to be sent to the ship.

  “Now can we get on with what we came here to do?”

  The Longest Night bar stood on the corner of two of the seediest streets. Inside the lights and the music were low, and the place was almost empty. It was a relief to be away from the crowds and noise.

  Rico surveyed the bar. “I miss alcohol,” he murmured.

  “Alcohol?”

  “An old Earth drink—banned in the twenty-first century.”

  As they approached the bar, the bartender glanced up. Small and pretty, her glance darted between the two of them as though she couldn’t decide which one of them was the safer to speak to. Finally, her gaze settled somewhere between them.

  “What can I get you?”

  “I want to see Deke,” Jon answered.

  Her gaze shot to his face, but her shocked expression was quickly blanked out.

  “No one here by that name.” She flashed him a patently false smile.

  Jon leaned across the bar and allowed a low growl to escape his throat. She stepped back as far as she could, which wasn’t very far.

  “Just comm him and tell him Jon is here and wants to talk.”

  As she looked from him to Rico, her eyes widened. Jon glanced sideways and saw the vampire was smiling, one sharp white fang in view.

  The hand she lifted shook visibly as she pointed at a black doorway across the bar.

  “Thank you,” Rico said. “And I’ll have one of those.” He reached out a hand, and she jumped. But he only picked up one of the pinkies—the popular recreational drugs most bars offered—from the bar and popped it into his mouth. “Want one?” he asked Jon.

  Jon shuddered as they turned to head to the back of the bar. “No—those things will kill you.”

  Rico grinned. “I doubt it. Come on. So who is this guy we’re seeing. How does he fit in?”

  “Deke’s a facilitator. People go to him when they want something done and he acts as a sort of middleman. He set up the Ross job.”

  “Is he likely to know who employed you?”

  “Maybe. Though he might need a little persuasion to part with the information. His reputation relies on him keeping his mouth closed.”

  “Well, we’ll have open it for him.” Rico rubbed his hands together with obvious excitement, and Jon’s own pulse picked up, all his senses heightening in anticipation of the action to come.

  The door was solid metal. Jon studied it, considered blasting his way through, but as he pulled out his pistol, the two sides slid open to reveal a brightly lit office. Jon stepped inside with Rico beside him.

  A huge desk dominated the room, dwarfing the man sitting on the other side. Jon did a quick check of the rest of the room. It was empty, but at that moment, four men pushed in behind them and arranged themselves around the room. They were heavily armed, and Jon had no doubt they were bodyguards. But odds of two to one seemed fair to him—no way would Deke join in if this degenerated into a fight. He doubted Deke had ever gotten his hands dirty or bruised in his life.

  The man rose to his feet behind the large desk. He wasn’t much taller than Al, with a slender frame, dark hair in a ponytail, and a sly expression.

  Jon nodded. “Deke.”

  “Jon. What a lovely surprise.” The tone was so insincere it set Jon’s teeth on edge.

  His own smile was equally insincere. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

  “Actually, I’d heard you were heading for the Meridian mines. Not that it isn’t great to see you.” He waved a hand at Rico. “Are you going to introduce your friend?”

  “He’s not my friend, and no, I’m not going to introduce him.”

  Deke had the good sense not to push. “So what are you doing here? You looking for work?”

  “No. I’m looking for information.”

  “Jon, please.” Deke sounded pained. “You’re a friend, but you know that’s not the way it works.”

  Jon stifled his urge to slam his fist into the slimy bastard’s nose. He was sure he would get a chance later. “I know, unfortunately my new acquaintance here”—he nodded in Rico’s direction—“isn’t so understanding.”

  Deke cast Rico a quick glance and shrugged. “I’d get no work if I went around giving out confidential information about my clients.”

  “You’ll get no work if you’re dead either,” Rico growled and took a pace toward the desk. Resting his hands palms down on the metal, he leaned in close and his lips curled to reveal his fangs.

  Deke took a rapid step back.

  The scrape of laser pistols being drawn from their holsters filled the room. Jon didn’t turn around, and he didn’t go for his own weapon. It would be hard for the guards to shoot without risking hitting their boss.

  Deke must have come to the same conclusion because he waved a hand at the guards and the tension in the room lessened slightly, though they didn’t reholster their weapons. Jon ignored them.

  Rico straightened and stood back slightly, arms folded across his chest. He was good at this—knew when to push and when to back down. It occurred to Jon the vampire might be useful to have around. If it wasn’t for the fact that Jon always worked alone. And the fact that he hated vampires.

  Deke lowered himself into his seat. “I suppose I might be able to find out something for you. You know what? Why don’t you go see the sights, get laid, and come back in a couple of hours. I’m sure I’ll have what you need then.”

  And Jon was equally sure Deke would be so far gone from here they would never find him again.

  “Sorry, Deke, but Rico here”—he gestured to the vampire—“has taken a vow of chastity. We wouldn’t want to put him in temptation’s way, now would we? So why don’t you tell us what you do know right now, and we’ll be on our way.”

  Deke pursed his lips and nodded once. “What do you want to know?”

  The ease of his capitulation confirmed Jon’s suspicions that all he was likely to hear from Deke was a load of crap. Still he’d keep up the act for now—he was interested in just how gullible Deke believed him to be. “The last job I did. The one that ended up with me on my way to the Meridian mines. I want to know who set it up.”

  “I don’t—”

  Rico stepped forward again and alarm flared in Deke’s eyes.

  “Call him off,” Deke said. “I was going to say I don’t have a name, but I do know who was behind it.”

  Jon bit back his impatience. “So could you tell us? Preferably sometime this year.”

  Deke licked his lips. “It was the Rebel Coalition. I recognized the man who met with me.”

  Jon frowned. Not that he didn’t believe the Coalition would have wanted Ross dead.

  The Rebel Coalition had grown up in the aftermath of the Church’s Purge, which had seen millions of GMs slaughtered. Most of the rebels were GMs themselves and had lost friends and family, and they now dedicated themselves to destroying the Church of Everlasting Life and its followers.

  They had no argument with the Collective, but Aiden Ross had been a staunch advocate of the Church, and a supp
orter of some of its more radical activities. By eliminating him, the rebels would discourage any future collaboration.

  Jon had done a lot of background research into Aiden Ross after he had taken on the job. He liked to know as much as possible about the people he was paid to kill. It helped in setting up the job and usually made him feel a whole lot better as he’d never yet researched a target without coming to the conclusion that the world would be a better place with that particular person dead.

  No, it wasn’t that he doubted the Coalition would have set up the job. Jon just couldn’t see a reason why they would have betrayed him afterward, and why there weren’t comms flooding the waves taking credit for Ross’s death. But there was nothing. And how would anyone in the Coalition have known how to kill a member of the Collective? Even Skylar claimed she didn’t know.

  All of which meant Deke was lying his weasely head off.

  Deke was supposed to be the middleman who stood between Jon and his clients. If Deke had done his job, no one should have known Jon’s identity. But they had known. The only way they could have caught him after he’d done the job was if they’d been following him. And the only way they could have known to do that was if Deke had told them.

  Jon considered his options. Maybe they could take the guards, and part of him wanted to try. But the rest of him knew there was a good chance that Deke would get hit in the crossfire, and he needed Deke alive. He forced his muscles to relax and curved his lips into the semblance of a smile. “Thanks, Deke. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Deke’s eyes remained wary as though he didn’t quite believe Jon was accepting his story, which wasn’t surprising. Jon had hardly come across as a half-wit in their past negotiations. But when Jon remained smiling, Deke relaxed.

  “Just don’t tell anyone where the information came from or my reputation will be worth shit.”

  “Would I do that to an old friend?” Jon murmured. He turned to Rico. “Come on, we have what we need. Let’s get out of here and after those rebel bastards.”

  Rico’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced from Jon to Deke as though he suspected something. Then he shrugged. “Okay.”