Harlequin Nocturne January 2014 Bundle: The Vampire HunterMoon Rising

by Michele Hauf

  Kaz fisted the wall as he stepped into his apartment and strode toward the bedroom. He couldn’t conceive of letting down the Order. All tasks to exterminate vampires must come first and foremost. But Zoë ranked right up there, too. And if that wasn’t enough to worry about, he now had to wonder if some kind of faery mafia had it in for him.

  Peeling away his clothes, he dropped them in a heap near the closet door then wandered into the bathroom. The wound on his hip from the faery flechette was scabbed and no longer sore. Zoë certainly did have the magic touch. Good thing, because if she hadn’t been able to counteract the poison, he’d be pushing up daisies right now.

  Flicking on the shower, he stepped into the hot stream and let out a shout as the water scalded him across the shoulders. Shaking his head and growling, he endured until his skin adjusted to the hot temperature. It was like Zoë’s coffee, a “wake you up and get you going” kind of brew.

  Soaping up, he stuck his face under the water. He hated to wash off Zoë’s kisses, but he’d return later for more of the same. And her legs wrapped about his hips. And her breasts crushed up against him. He wanted to dive inside her and get lost. Forget that vampires existed. Forget the world, save for Zoë.

  “You’re thinking like a crazy man, Rothstein,” he muttered.

  For now, his focus must remain on finding the one-fanged vampire who had murdered his friends.

  * * *

  Zoë and Sid watched the last batch of the special blend settle in the alembics suspended by iron holders. The liquid ichor quickly dissolved into bright sparkling flakes and settled onto the bottom of the container.

  “Pretty, isn’t it, Sid?”

  The cat rubbed his cheek along her hip, and Zoë scratched him at the base of his ear. When she hit the sweet spot, the feline’s back leg started scratching the air, not quite committing to a full-on scratch, and happy to let her do the work.

  “I really should think up a name for this stuff. Zoë’s Fantastic Cure? Probably too pompous, eh?”

  Sid agreed with a loud purr.

  “The Blend is kind of boring. How about Fix-A-Vamp?” She chuckled and shook her head at the terrible names.

  With a snap of her fingers the glass vials assembled on the table, lining up in military precision to await the sparkling contents. Zoë used her magic to lift the alembic and steady it over the vials to pour in measured amounts. Suddenly, Sid’s body stiffened on the table, four paws stabilizing the feline against a powerful sneeze, but in the process, his tail whipped vigorously, knocking over all the vials.

  Zoë grabbed for the vials, but upset the alembic, which toppled out of her magical spell and landed on the floor at her bare feet. Sid jumped from the table, paws outstretched before and behind his furry body.

  “No, Sid! Be careful of the glass!”

  The cat landed at the threshold, a safe distance from the shattered glass, and hightailed it out of the spell room.

  Stuck in the center of a scatter of fine, broken glass and mounds of glinting purple faery dust, Zoë looked about for cleaning supplies. “Where’s a broom when a witch really needs one?”

  She didn’t want to step aside and risk cutting her foot, and she was no master of levitation. She could perform transprojectionary dislocation on objects, not herself.

  “Bother. Now I’ll have to get more ichor and start over on this batch. It’s due tomorrow. I’ll never obtain a large enough quantity of ichor on such short notice.” Raking her fingers through her hair, she flung out her hands in defeat and sighed. “Well, they’ll have to be short. Nothing I can do about it. What a mess. I sure hope this isn’t an omen that the damsel’s glass slippers have shattered. The knight will never be able to pick up all the pieces.”

  Closing her eyes and using mind mapping as a sort of magical GPS, she traveled downstairs to the kitchen closet and snatched the broom and dustpan with her mind and floated them upstairs. The broom zoomed into her palm, landing with a smart snap.

  “Ouch!”

  Realizing she was upset, Zoë breathed in and out, seeking calm. “It’s not a problem. The courier will understand. And if she doesn’t, what can she do about it? The place is warded so she can’t enter. I’ll provide the missing batch next week. No problem.”

  She hoped. She’d yet to meet Mauritius, and even though he was doing a good thing by distributing her blend, she suspected he preferred his employees to be punctual and keep their promises.

  “I should head out to FaeryTown and see about getting more ichor.”

  She’d never gone shopping for ichor before, nor did she know the price it commanded. And dealing with creatures she chose not to believe in could prove a challenge. But how difficult could it be?

  * * *

  The vampire ashed before him. Kaz’s fist, still wrapped about the stake, swung forward through the ash cloud. He closed his eyes to avoid getting dust in them. They stood in a dark alley. No mortal had witnessed this slaying. As it should be.

  He retracted the killing point back into the titanium stake and fitted it at his hip in the loop beside another stake. Tonight he wore full slaying gear.

  He’d gotten the call earlier from Rook that a series of burglaries had resulted in attacks to the necks of two citizens. They were not dead, but the perp was on the loose. Hadn’t taken long for Kaz to track the odd trail of abandoned rhinestone jewelry right up to the vampire who had been shivering in a corner, moaning for more sparklies.

  He tugged out his cell phone and called in a report. He didn’t directly talk to Rook, but left a message. “Mark exterminated.” He checked his watch. “11:45 p.m. Was unable to question him regarding current investigation. Manic and raging for Magic Dust.”

  That said it all. It said too much.

  Another kill. Life was a party. Without the cake.

  Tucking away his phone, Kaz kicked off the ash from his boot toe. The clothing had burned, as well. Looked as if a bum may have set a fire in the alley. Still, he gave Tor a call.

  He’d tracked the vampire after seeing him climb out of a residential window, a trail of sparkling jewelry spilling from his pockets. Kaz had phoned the police and given them the address—he suspected there would be human casualties inside, thus the call to Tor—while he had pursued the predator.

  One less drugged-up maniac to threaten the innocents now. But how many more were out there? He estimated, as the Magic Dust grew more popular, the incidents of vampires attacking mortals could increase tenfold.

  * * *

  The longer it took him to track the source, the faster the apocalypse would arrive. He hated thinking in such devastating terms, but he couldn’t imagine anything less than all-out mayhem once the vampire population started hunting the humans in a mad quest for anything that sparkled.

  He did need backup. He needed a whole team. At the moment, Rook was the only other available hunter in the city. The other local hunters, Lark and Dmitri, were away on a hunt in Spain, since that country was lacking a cadre of knights. If he asked Rook’s help, he’d prove he wasn’t up to the task. But seriously? This task could be too big for the Order within a few days.

  He could handle this. Nothing fanged, clawed or even winged could defeat Kaspar Rothstein.

  Kaz sensed he was walking in FaeryTown now for the minute tug at his skin, like a breeze, that he’d previously placed to walking in the other dimension overlaid upon the mortal realm. He wished he had brought along the ointment, and cursed himself for forgetting that small detail. He didn’t need it to find Switch, but he certainly would like to have an eye on whatever winged creature watched him right now. Because someone did; if he believed anything otherwise, he’d be making a big mistake.

  He did believe in faeries, damn his soul.

  He should have asked Zoë if she’d known a method to fight back against faeries who fired poison-tip
ped flechettes at him.

  A flash of pink caught his eye. The woman sporting the bright hair pushed through a group of young men, not reacting to their catcalls. She was dressed to offend with tight black leather on her legs and torso. Strategic rips below the ass and ribs exposed strips of flesh.

  “Maybe there will be cake,” he muttered.

  Crossing the street, Kaz assumed the tail. He’d follow her at a distance. She must spend a lot of time in FaeryTown if she dealt dust. This was where her clientele could be found. But where was she getting the Magic Dust? From a faery? Had to be. Some faery that was altering the ichor in a manner that made it more deadly to mortals than anyone could imagine.

  As he dodged a human couple walking hand in hand, in his peripheral vision he caught sight of a pretty, young woman with black-and-white hair. Zoë? Was she in FaeryTown or treading the mortal realm? He couldn’t get a good enough look to see if she wore the dark ointment under her eyes.

  “Damn it,” he said, fighting the urge to call out to the witch.

  Every part of his being wanted to rush to her and keep her safe. His arms twitched, wanting to wrap around her and pull her in close. And his trigger fingers flinched, preparing for defense in case a vampire attacked her.

  On the other hand, maybe she was simply on a grocery run?

  Deciding the best course was to stay on the vampiress’s ass, Kaz forged onward with a glance back to confirm Zoë was still there. She was, but her attention was drawn to the shopfronts.

  “She had better be shopping.”

  Because if Zoë was doing something else—and he wasn’t sure what that could be—he wanted to know what it was, and if he had a reason to be jealous.

  Jealous?

  She wasn’t his girl. Well, sort of. Kind of? They had been teasing dating the past few days, but he wouldn’t call a quick lunch a date. Though the dancing the other night could be construed as a date.

  Hell. He was dating a witch. Who’d’ve thought?

  Smiling to himself, Kaz realized he’d let his gaze wander. Focus. He flicked his eyes left to right and said a thank-you for the vampiress’s bold, pink hair.

  Switch turned between two buildings. Kaz quickened his pace, turning to follow her down the narrow pathway that could lead to a small courtyard, or exit to another street. She turned to spy him just as he grabbed her arm and shoved her against an old limestone wall littered with bright-blue-and-orange graffiti.

  “Need to have a chat with you,” he said, moving his hands down to grip her wrists and slam them up against the wall near her shoulders. He pressed his thighs against hers, preparing for defensive moves. She didn’t have her henchmen to distract him now, and he could certainly hold his own against a woman, vampire or not.

  The vampiress spit blood at him. Blinking, but not releasing her wrists, Kaz marked that one down as a new and annoying weapon. Good thing vampire blood did not harm humans.

  “Classy,” he said.

  “What is it with you, hunter? You didn’t like the beating I gave you the other night so you’re back for round two? Oh, I get it. You like the rough stuff, eh?”

  “Your henchmen are nowhere to be seen, so I figure we can talk real nicelike. I’m not here to hurt you, Switch. I have some questions.”

  “Fuck your questions.”

  “That’s not very ladylike language.”

  She looked ready to spit again, so he slammed his elbow against her jaw. Not as hard as he could...

  “Asshole.” She tongued her front teeth and spat to the side. “What the hell do you want to ask me? And it better not be for a date, a bite or to narc on one of my fellow vamps.”

  “None of the above. A date? Seriously?”

  She jutted up her chin and dragged her tongue across vivid red lips. “I’ve had a hunter or two in my time.” Her eyes flashed with a creepily seductive challenge.

  He didn’t even want to know.

  “I know you’re dealing Magic Dust, Switch.”

  He waited for her reaction. Not a blink or a flinch marred the vampiress’s pale complexion. Her dark eyes had dropped the tease of seduction and now stared through him, indifferent to his needs. A predator to the core.

  “Since you’re not denying it,” he continued, “I need to know who you’re getting the dust from.”

  She tilted her head and shook the tousle of pink-and-black strands. The silver rings trailing down her ear clacked. Not about to spill on that one.

  “If you won’t give me a name, then who manufactures it? Is it made here in FaeryTown? You’re smart, but I doubt you’ve a chemistry background.”

  “Chemistry? Ha!” Obviously, that one had thrown her for a challenge. “I’m smart enough to not touch the stuff. It’s nasty.”

  “Yet you have no problem selling it to your fellow vamps. You know Magic Dust drives them insane? It’s not like regular faery dust.”

  “What do I care? Come on, hunter. Are we finished here? I got an appointment.”

  “With your supplier?”

  “I am this close to ripping out your carotid and sucking you dry.”

  “Bite blade, bitch.”

  She smirked, warming up to his challenge as her eyes took in the shining blades at his collar. “You’re too pretty for a hunter. I bet you’ve screwed vamps before you’ve slain them, yeah?”

  “Wouldn’t touch your kind if you were the last creatures on earth.”

  “Yeah, mortals aren’t all that, either. Though they can be tasty midorgasm.”

  “Enough sharing.”

  Kaz twisted the vampiress’s arm, swinging her around and hooking a foot between her legs to hobble her into a stumble and land her knees against the wall. Cranking her arm backward and up to the point where he knew he would certainly let out a yelp, he then smashed her face against the wall with his other hand.

  “Give me a name and I’ll stop trying to turn you into a pretzel.”

  “She doesn’t have a name.”

  She? That ruled out half the population.

  Kaz pressed hard against her skull. The brick must surely be cutting through her cheek. A flash of Zoë’s scar appeared in his mind and he almost relented.

  Almost.

  “I can do this all night,” he tried. “I know you vamps heal fast, but do you really want me to make hamburger out of your pretty face?”

  “You do and you will not live to see morning, hunter.”

  He pressed harder and the vampiress let out a yelp before confessing, “I know it’s a witch!”

  “A witch?” He did not relent the hold on her skull. “Who is a female?”

  “Putting two and two together. Points for the human.”

  He pressed harder.

  “A witch makes the dust,” she provided in a sputter. “I pick it up once a week. That’s it. I’m not saying any more.”

  Kaz shoved her away, far enough so that if she decided to turn and attack, he had room to defend himself. Reaching for the stake, he paused. Switch flipped him off, and then dashed away in the direction they’d come, cursing his mother and promising him death.

  He’d heard it too many times before to let it bother him. Death threats were flung at him like confetti. And his mother, may she rest in peace, was in a better place now. But he wasn’t sure what to do with the information he’d gained from the vampiress.

  “A witch?”

  There had to be hundreds of witches in Paris. Where to begin?

  Surely Switch wouldn’t lead him there tonight now that she knew he was on to her. He let her go. He didn’t want her dead. And if she made pickups once a week, he’d track her to the source with the same ease he’d tracked her this evening.

  He took out his cell phone and dialed Vail. He would owe the vampire if he could help him on this one. As h
e waited for the ring he remembered having seen Zoë. He scanned the streets for her black-and-white hair. What was that witch up to?

  But more important, how many witches did she know, and could she help him track the one who was making the Magic Dust?

  There was only one way to find out.

  * * *

  Kaz stood before the cerulean door, smiling. Funny how the bright color made him feel happy yet a little anxious. It was because of who lived behind the door. The witch did things to him. She stirred up his senses to high alert. A good kind of alert, at that.

  He’d hung up with Vail after leaving FaeryTown. The vampire promised to ask around about the witch who manufactured Magic Dust. He did have a hunch which vampire was heading the operation, but wouldn’t give Kaz a name until he’d checked out the suspicion.

  Vail had a family to protect and was unaligned with any tribe, so Kaz allowed him the slack and respected his caution. Ultimately, the vampire would come through. He had to.

  Now he was prepared to ask Zoë about what she had been doing in FaeryTown. He had a right to know.

  Didn’t he?

  She could have been visiting a friend. In which case, if he asked, he’d sound jealous. She could have been shopping for supplies for witch spells. In that case, he’d sound nosey.

  He wouldn’t ask her.

  Shoving his hands through his hair, he squeezed his eyelids tight. He didn’t need to know about her personal life. He just...wanted to know as much about her as he could because he liked her. And yes, he was suspicious, especially with the current investigation, as to why a witch would be in FaeryTown, and whom she had gone to see.

  On the other hand, she could prove a valuable asset if she knew of any witches who might have a hand in making Magic Dust. So to not question her would be less than professional.

  But he couldn’t let it sound as if it was personal. Don’t sound jealous, he cautioned. Make it business. However, to ask would mix business with pleasure again.

  “Damn it,” he swore softly.

  The cerulean color screamed at him all things not business. Things like kisses from a sexy witch and her warm, healing touch.