“Jade,” the cold, blue lips began to mouth with a rasp. His red hair was slicked back from his pale features. It wasn’t Duncan. She had tracked the wrong vampire. The Scottish accent was real. The vampire’s deadened gaze glanced over her shoulder in warning before she had a chance to speak.
Jaden spun into action, her arm coming across her shoulder to strike out as she turned. It was too late. Tom anticipated her move before she even made it. Her arm met with the hard crash of metal. The man held a riot shield. She winced violently, shrieking in pain. Her shoulder popped out of joint with the force of her blow. Instantly one of the faceless men who dragged the light was next to her, shooting her side with a stun gun. The metal hooks bit into her flesh and the heavy electric shock brought her instantly to her knees.
“No,” Rick hollered. His cry came too late. The man had already brought Jaden low to the ground with his assault. “She’s one of us, fool!”
Tom stood defiantly over Jaden, smirking at her helpless form as she shivered. The other man dropped his stun gun, yanking the hooks from her skin. He glanced around in confusion. Rick glared at the both of them, waving his hand back. The men obeyed the silent order, disappearing into the graveyard the way they’d come.
Jaden groaned, recovering from the attack but not as quickly as she would have liked. She panted for air, unable to breathe, unable to speak. Her lungs felt as if they’d been crushed by a wrecking ball. Her arm hung limp at her side as she pulled up on her one good hand and knees. She crawled forward to save the fallen vampire’s life. She reached for the stake to pull it from his chest so that he may heal and fight. The old eyes stared back at her. A bright light flashed behind them, mimicking the rays of the sun. The face began to wither before her, its lips opening as if to scream her name.
“Bhaltair?” Jaden whispered weakly in disbelief. Yelling at the men, she ordered hoarsely, “No, stop, don’t. Not him.”
Jaden’s head reeled from the pain shooting in her shoulder. She dropped to the ground. Her mind swam in threatening blackness. The vampire shrieked, turning slowly to ash.
Jaden coughed, breathing in the grave dust of vampiric death as it swirled up gently in the night breeze. It fell over her, blanketing her body like the tender falling of snow. It was too late. Her vampire father was dead.
Chapter One
New York City, New York, August
“Over eight million people in this damned city and not one vampire,” Jaden fumed with a low growl, as she looked down a nearly abandoned street. A large rat ran by the flattened figure of a drunken bum slouched against a brick wall, surrounded by the wind’s collection of garbage. But no creatures of the night. The dark alleyways were starting to look the same. She heard the soft melody of jazz in the distance, reverberating out of the club a block behind her. She felt the presence of the crowd gathering, their liveliness beginning to trample out onto the city streets as the hour crept closer to dawn.
Picking up her pace, Jaden tried to ignore the annoyance of a humid night. She wasn’t scared of being alone. She much preferred the solitude of darkness, keeping a vampiric schedule of her own. She hardly ever went out during the day. There was no point—her work was at night.
Jaden’s tight cotton shirt stuck to her skin. It blended perfectly with the loose black pants covering her legs and short army boots. She could easily slip into a corner and disappear from sight if needed. But tonight she wasn’t trying to disappear. She wanted to be on a vampire’s radar. Pulling at her low ponytail to tighten the strands of her dark, reddish-brown hair, she paused to look over her shoulder.
“Come on,” she hissed to herself. “Is there a conference I don’t know about? Are the undead gathering in Chinatown tonight?”
Jaden felt like she’d walked most of the city. Almost ready to give up and leave Greenwich Village to the partying mass behind her, she came to the end of a block. Her skin prickled with a familiar sensation of warning. A grim smile lined her features. Turning the corner, she peered down the darkened alley leading behind numerous shops.
She could see nothing beyond the normal shadows stretching over the hot concrete and wooden crates. Closing her eyes, she concentrated. It wasn’t hard. She felt an instant rush of sensations flow through her. It wasn’t her emotions swirling inharmoniously in her blood.
The music faded behind her. She detected a young vampire nearby. In a flash, her throat shot with pain and the edge of her gums pulsed lightly. The vampire had a victim. Growling, she rushed forward. She felt the steady beat of two hearts. The victim was not yet dead, but by the weakened rhythm, would be soon.
Jaden came to an abrupt stop as the sensation strengthened. Lowering her jaw, she casually continued forward as if she were strolling through the park. She allowed her boots to fall heavily on the pavement in warning. Behind a crate she detected vampire shoulders hunched around the hapless writhing of its prey. Its large arms wrapped around the thin body of a man, trapping him to his chest like a steel clamp.
If the vampire was surprised by her intrusion, he didn’t show it. In fact, his icy gaze was placid as he casually turned it to her. The streetlight illuminated the creature’s pale face. The yellowish cast formed eerily over the bluish skin of the undead, adding a surprising harshness to his strong nose and square jaw. His lips closed leisurely over his fangs, covering the light bathing of blood on his teeth. He didn’t move—just waited to see what she wanted.
Jaden’s first reaction was to shiver. Instinctively, she grabbed for a stake at her waist. Her fingers slipped over her hip. There was nothing there. Clearing her mind, she recalled in weighty numbness, You’re not here to kill. You’re here to die.
“Let him go,” Jaden ordered, barely turning to the victim caught up in the vampire’s grasp, her words low and steady. The man’s feet hung above the ground, kicking with renewed force at her heated words. To her great surprise, the vampire released his hold. The victim darted away, his shoulder hitting Jaden as he sped back into the lighted street. She ignored the mortal. When they were alone, she said wryly, “That was the right decision.”
The vampire straightened to his full height. Jaden’s stomach tightened in unease. Crouching over, the creature hadn’t been so intimidating. However, with his height and broad stature directed completely at her, he became quite daunting. In a fight, this creature would have the benefit of natural strength behind his vampirically enhanced abilities. Only, Jaden wasn’t there to fight him.
The vampire waited patiently. He kept his arms folded in front of his chest, not in intimidation but in easy repose. His face showed nothing, no fear or imminent reprisal at having his meal interrupted. He wasn’t reacting like a typical young one. Usually the newly turned bared their fangs with animated hisses and growls.
Jaden forced herself to ignore the truth of her eyes. Sight was not her strongest gift. Even though she technically had near perfect human vision and could navigate the night with ease, she couldn’t make out the details of those things hidden within the shadows. This one visually appeared much older and more confident than she first sensed. Her senses might waver, but if she concentrated they never failed. She thought of Bhaltair and forced herself to focus. She had long since learned to focus on her emotions and inborn talents. And right now, her senses said this one’s blood was new.
Seeing large empty crates and garbage bins trapping the vampire’s escape, Jaden took a step forward. She moved easily, used to confronting his kind. Again her wrist brushed near her waist, seeking the comfort of her meager weapons. Again she remembered she’d brought nothing. She didn’t want to change her mind. She didn’t want to alarm the young one before her. If he ran from her, she would have to start her search anew.
No, Jaden mused in silent apathy, this is what I came for. At least he seems to possess some dignity. Then, sarcastically, she thought, I would hate to be bitten by a fumbling idiot. How degrading an end that would be for a legendary hunter. Though after New Orleans maybe that’s what I deserve.
> Jaden studied the vampire for signs of curiosity. He waited for her to speak with the silent patience of a statue. The icy blue of his striking eyes didn’t reveal any emotions beyond watchfulness.
The vampire wore a long, dark jacket. Its ordinary lines weren’t spectacular, though it had an older look to the style. Small buttons worked their way down the front, hanging open from their holes. Beneath the coat was a simple burgundy knit shirt over dark pants—too tightly made by Jaden’s critical estimation. In the shadows she couldn’t make out if they were constructed from leather or denim.
When the vampire merely continued to stare at her, Jaden said without preamble, “You are a nightstalker, are you not?”
One brow lifted halfway up the vampire’s smooth, pale face. It was a small effort, the only one he made in acknowledging her. Once more, she started to distrust her senses, but again the sensation of newly turned blood was overwhelmingly strong. If she had to venture a guess, she would say he was maybe fifteen years made at most.
With a groan, she realized her first impression of sight was probably really off. This creature wasn’t cold and calculating. By his age, she could only assume he was dumb. Some sick, undead fiend had picked a poor, helpless mental patient with the size of Hercules to be its child. No wonder the vampire only stared. No wonder he obeyed her order to release his victim without question.
She was tired of seeing and feeling such things as the atrocity before her. She knew what she had spent her life doing, seeing. Jaden wanted to live—in theory. But her life was never a life. She was tired of sensing death, causing it. The grim hold was an apathetic noose around her neck, tightening but never releasing. She was already one of the walking dead in spirit. She wasn’t frightened by her own death. Death was her only release. It was her only out. It was the only way she could shut herself off and find any rest.
Shaking her head, she continued in sarcastic disgust, “You are a nightstalker, are you not? A benighted child, a damned soul, possessor of the dark gift?” Jaden paused, waiting to see if any of her words brought recognition to the immovable face. They didn’t. With a sigh, she whispered in dejection, “A vampire.”
“Nightstalker is a bloodstalker term,” the creature answered at leisure. He moved his head a hairsbreadth to the side. “And no one uses the word benighted anymore.”
Jaden froze at the low rumbling of the vampire’s rhythmical voice. His soft words were extremely coherent, if not a little bored. They took her by surprise. She saw a swirl of color, a sliver of green, begin to enter his eyes then fade. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time threatened to awaken in her—curiosity. Jaden suppressed it. A whirlwind of confusion endangered her senses. She felt him trying to enter her mind, to put thoughts into it. She fought it, focusing herself once more. Maybe this one liked to play games. Maybe he liked to pretend he was older than he truly was. She had seen the arrogance before.
“Bloodstalker is just as archaic,” she said easily to hide her surprise. Very rarely was she referred to as a bloodstalker. Still, this creature couldn’t possibly sense what she was. Only the old could smell the parentage in her blood.
“Are you hunting me?” A small smirk of amusement tilted the side of his mouth. The very idea seemed to fascinate him.
Jaden froze. Her legs screamed at her to run. Her heart’s heady rhythm echoed the plea. This one’s confidence, compounded by his size, was alarming. Without the assuredness of her previous statements, she forced the bitterness from her tone. “No, I don’t wish to kill you. I am no hunter.”
Silently she added, not anymore.
“Then why do you seek me out, mortal?” he queried enigmatically, showing the first hint of interest at her intrusion.
Jaden felt a dim sense of loathing awaken in the vampire. His body moved with all the enthusiasm of a faded marble statue anchored to a slab of stone. A slight turn of his lips indicated he smiled more than frowned. Lifting her chin proudly, she directed her boldest stare. With false sweetness and concern in her voice, she muttered in a coquettish sulk, “You haven’t eaten. I just scared away your meal.”
The vampire’s smile faded just as quickly as it had formed. Jaden trembled as his gaze moved to study her. Even fully clothed she felt violated by the inspection. Was she mistaken, or did his eyes linger too long on her breasts? Before she had time to cross over and slap him, he said, unconcerned, “So you have. I’ll find it again. Good eve.”
He turned to leave her. Jaden’s heart leapt at the hasty dismissal. She didn’t want to wait. She wanted to be punished for what she’d allowed to happen in New Orleans. She wanted the hunting to be over. Crossing forward in growing desperation, she pulled back her collar and offered her neck to him. “Here’s your meal, vampire. Drink it and be done.”
To Jaden’s surprise, he held back as if he didn’t care to taste her blood. She dropped her hand. Her cheeks flamed in anger at his blatant rejection of her offer. Damn him. Her blood was the best thing he would ever be offered—strong, pure, half vampire.
She smelled musk on the air—the scent of death and decay—but the stirrings of it were so faint she convinced herself she only imagined the scent of the grave on him as she had with others. With this creature there was more. There was a hint of freshness and breeze to his odor and the impression of freshly churned earth, not dust.
Meeting his eyes as they bore into her, she shuddered. Her head was forced back on her shoulders to accommodate his height. She felt dwarfed by the girth of his body. He seemed bred for battle.
Thick arms connected to the bunched muscles of his shoulders, leading to a neck worthy of an All-American football player. Through the snug burgundy knit of his shirt she saw the outline of muscles as raw and unyielding as formed steel. His masculine beauty did something wicked to her senses, awakening them with the hint of longing and suppressed desires. Jaden instantly thought of silken sheets on a large, thick bed. His very presence was pure potency.
She blinked heavily and the fog lifted. All of his kind was beautiful. If her head were easily turned by beauty she would’ve been killed long ago.
At length, the creature began to chuckle. The sound was cold and heartless. Jaden snapped her head up, alarmed to be caught studying him so long. He watched in silent ridicule, as if he knew the images that filtered inside her imagination.
“You seek me out, but you do not like me, do you?” The vampire’s tone was soft, never rising above a whisper. Jaden couldn’t make out an accent on his words though she detected there might be one if he spoke louder. She didn’t see his lips move. She had no time to wonder, as he continued, “You wish me to turn you. That is why you have come, eh, conceited mortal?”
“No,” she answered without hesitation.
The vampire drew back in obvious wonder. Emotion trickled for the first time from his expression. His initial shock was only overshadowed by his obvious doubt. She waited for him to speak. His lips didn’t move.
“I want you to kill me,” Jaden stated. Once more, she offered her throat with a slight turn of her head. “How often is it your meal comes to you? Take a night off from hunting, vampire. Do me this small favor. My blood will be your reward.”
If her statement surprised him, he didn’t show it. A lazy smile curled his mouth. His lips parted slightly, revealing the sharp point of fangs, two on top, two smaller on bottom. Jaden took the detail in stride, automatically narrowing down in her mind what vampiric tribe he may be descendent of.
Without thought, she questioned, “How old are you?”
“Eternally twenty eight.”
“That’s not—”
“Would you like me to mesmerize you?” the vampire interrupted. He lifted his hand with an easy elegance to hover near her face before leaning in to cup her cheek. His touch was gentle and cool against her flesh. He stroked her with deceiving tenderness. “I could take the pain away. I could take everything away.”
Jaden shivered at his confidence. His nearness overwhelmed. Tears threatened
her eyes at his gentle touch, welling up from her heart. She blinked the moisture away. But why wouldn’t she cry at this moment, this most perfect moment of death? Why shouldn’t it be tender? It was, after all, the most personal of acts for her—more so than sex or love.
For when you killed, you took a part of that being with you, the blood, the moment, one could never be rid of it. Killing jaded your thoughts, your soul. It marked you and marred you. It tore out a piece of you, carving a home deep inside. Jaden knew it, felt it as sure as anything each time a vampire ashed by her hand. So she supposed when she died, part of her would forever stay in this silent, mocking creature before her.
Instinct told her to fight him, to push his hand away and strike him. But she had brought no weapons. There was no turning back, and Jaden wasn’t one to easily change her path once the decision was made. She knew what she was doing this night, seeking out the killer. She wanted to die. She wanted the curse of her life to be over.
“You have that power?” Jaden questioned in mild astonishment. “But you are so young.”
“I have that power.”
Jaden made the mistake of searching his ice-chipped gaze. She felt herself easily drawn into the mysterious, enticing power of him. Her will slipped. Her emotions calmed. Her heartbeat slowed to an easy thump. The vampire invaded her thoughts, probing and prying to open her mind. Her limbs went numb with a strange lethargy. Swallowing nervously, she turned to expose her neck. He let her eyes escape the depths of his mind’s hold.
“Just get it over with. My blood is strong. You’ll enjoy it,” she said.
At that the creature grinned, sending chills over her flesh. “I’m sure I will.”
A tormenting wave overcame her at the promise in his words. Her body ached and pulled towards him. If he had been a man, she would’ve done her best to attract him. She would’ve used him and discarded him. Her hands fluttered up, finding hold in the barrier of his chest. He was as muscular as she first guessed. She trembled with a sense of anticipation. It was strange to be so close to someone and not try to fight them, especially if that someone was undead. Jaden knew there was no affection in his cold limbs and that he cared nothing for her, but she drank in the comfort of him anyway.
The Jaded Hunter Page 2
