Page 1 of The Huntress

Chapter One

BRAVERY VS. STUPIDITY

Callietrembledinthedarkness, unable to hide, not when theycould hear her heart pound and scent her fear on this blustery night, not when she clung to the side of a building twenty levels up. Focusing on her breathing, keeping it shallow and as silent as possible, she tried not to hyperventilate. To them, she had to sound like a wheezing geriatric. She should have stayed away, but stubbornness was one of hermanyfaults.

On top of it, she’d lost her gun when she’d first stepped onto the building’s ledge. Her purse as well. Shoving the gun down the front of her gown to nestle between her breasts might have been a better option. The image of her captain lambasting her for losing her weaponagainwas enough to consider suicide. Thoughts of impending doom niggled her, tempting her to leap onto the moonlit balcony, throw herself at their feet and demand they end her life now.

She shrugged. Despite the paperwork losing her gun would entail, it didn’t matter.Not at the moment. Therein lay her fear.

Balancing on her bare heels on a narrow ledge to eavesdrop? Insanity at its finest. She inched toward the balcony, rethinking hergeniusplan to climb onto the ledge and cling to the glass façade as if her fingertips were octopus tentacles. She wasn’tthatdesperate for leads, was she?

Something suspicious was happening tonight, which explained why she was at Mayor Duhamel’s ball, dressed like a sequined mannequin with enough make-up on to disguise a rhino. She stared at her manicured toes hanging over the edge. The chilly wind plucked at her burgundy gown, trying to rip her away from the building’s embrace. She tightened her grip on the glass as if she could resist the wind’s incessant nagging. Her cheeks stung, and if these bastards didn’t hurry, she’d suffer from frostbite, or at the very least, she’d look like a happy cherub for days. Typical selfish suckbloods. Her fellow officers would show her no mercy. She grimaced—they’d torture her for sure.

“The drop-off is happening tomorrow evening,” a sexy voice rumbled.

It was smooth like decadent dark chocolate. So sex-on-a-stick sexy he had to be a suckblood.

Drop-off?

“I want no surprises,” said the suckblood.

“I don’t expect any. They know better than to disappoint you,” yet another sexy male voice reached her.

Shit! How many were there? She could take one, and only if she was properly armed, which she wasn’t. The dagger strapped to her thigh was all this disguise allowed. Much good a single weapon would do her now.

“Good,” said Suckblood One.

“Are you sure you want to do this alone? It doesn’t sit right with me.” Concern was clear in Suckblood Two’s voice.

“I’ll take a few guards with me, but I need you to hold the fort, so to speak.” The first one’s chuckle was deep, husky…alluring. “It’s not as if I can’t defend myself.”

Callie nodded. They were excellent fighters, able to resist human weapons with ease. She’d developed her personal arsenal after years of dealing with suckbloods and beasts. The boys at the precinct mocked her for it but, in truth, her battle-readiness had spared many lives, including her own.

If Dad saw her now, though. She winced, imagining the shake of his head and the silly smile he donned when she’d done something brave or idiotic.

“Fine. Should I assist the woman off the ledge?” asked Suckblood Two.

She snorted at his question, confirming their awareness of her presence, and she didn’t like the eagerness in his voice. He sounded ravenous.

“Her scent is delicious, but I need a drink, not nourishment. Do as you see fit.”

“She does smell good,” said Suckblood Two, as if the bouquet of her blood mattered.

Oh, fuck!

Suckblood Two’s appearance at the balcony’s railing made her grip on the glass slip. Tall, at least six-foot-four, with blond locks falling below his collar gave off a Viking-of-old vibe. His broad shoulders with matching biceps strained his sleeves in his expensive-but-struggling tux barely containing the visceral magnetism pouring off him.

His face was another matter—square jaw to a pointy chin with a dimple for added effect. An unnecessary effect. He was a stunner without it. How did they recruit converts? One look at him made her believe they trawled the fashion runways. To be beautiful forever would tempt Narcissus himself.

“Admiring the view?” he said.

A smirk curled his upper lip, yet she sensed no hostility, leaving her to stare into his entrancing blue eyes.

The wind whipped at her again, snatching her from the mesmerizing depths of his seductive eyes. She hadn’t admired the view until now.

“Yes, stunning,” she said, proud of herself for managing to string two words together.

“I could join you…?”

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