Page 6 of The Huntress

His frown deepened into a scowl. He could pull a question from a person’s mind as it formed. Deep within her mind, he hadn’t sensed her thoughts.

“Long day?”

“Yes.” He sighed.

Longer after he’d met her. She did pose a dilemma, though. An unpredictable detective, one he couldn’t read, would complicate things. Perhaps Syl could add enlightenment. Leo checked on his king’s status and found the woman’s mouth on his cock.

Now wasn’t the time, judging by Callista’s disdain as she followed his distracted glance.

“Your…friend is somewhere in there under those bobbing women?” she asked. “You should rescue him. Those women could gift him with more than what he asked for.” She paused and arched a brow. “Are your kind even susceptible to our human diseases? Never mind, don’t answer that. It’s mean of him to imply he can sexually satisfy them all. I don’t care how much of a stud he thinks he is.” She stepped off her stool, crowding Leo.

He didn’t move aside, needing the heat of her skin as she shuffled past him, eager to smell her for a little longer. Exhaustion pounded off her, darkening the shadows under her eyes. He shifted closer to bury his nose in her hair, to inhale her essence then jerked back, discerning another female’s scent clinging to her. One infinitely sweeter than Callie’s.

“Whose gown are you wearing tonight?” he asked. Reacting like this to one woman was possible, but to two?

“My sister, Valerie’s.” Curiosity flitted across her features. “Thank you for being my knight, Mr. Travisano.”

For the second time that evening, and certainly in the last century of his life, a woman walked away. He admired a mole on her bare back where it rested above her left hip undulating with her strides. The realization she was about to leave him had him bolting forward. He caught her wrist and spun her into his arms…and landed on his back, with her elbow at his throat.

Too startled by her speed, he hadn’t shrouded them in time. The crowd responded with alarmed murmurs. Sprawled across him, she had placed a bare knee at his waist. He raised his fingers to brush over her hips, finding traction there.

He squeezed as he whispered, “My name is Leo.”

She peeled herself off him, not in the least bit sorry. With an admirable tolerance, she endured her captain’s chastisement, dutifully apologized as if her boss was her mother, and made a hasty retreat before he could stop her. She didn’t spare him a backward glance.

Why she twisted his insides, he couldn’t explain. The entire time Metcalfe reprimanded her, he’d stared at Callista, dazed, forgetting to blink. Her scent was delicious, but not as intriguing as her sister’s.

Grumbling over the twist to the evening, he faced Syl and sighed. The image of his debauchery shimmered—a tell he held a glamour in place for any would-be voyeurs. His lips were on the blonde’s neck, blood trickling and staining her white gown, as another female sucked him off. Leo squeezed the bridge of his nose, attempting to halt the headache forming. Another rare experience for a vampire.

His life was dull. There lay the crux of the matter. A situation he’d pondered more of late. He was tired of whoring his way through his time, from a fuck to a feed too many. After dropping into the seat Callista vacated, he imagined the residual heat from her backside remained. He gestured to the bartender to refill her tumbler. The rich scent of scotch intensified, but the smoothness of it didn’t compare to the taste of her lingering on the glass.

He tugged out his cellphone and dialed. “Callista and Valerie Devereaux. I need our best man on it.”

Chapter Three

PERMISSION GRANTED

Gabrielliftedhisface,taking a deep breath, imagining the cool caress of the silver moon’s light. The air was crisp with a hint of pine. Just the way he liked it. That is, when, andif, he left his home. The usual guards stood alert at their posts, and the Italian architecture of their stronghold in pale sandstone glimmered under the moon’s glow. He was here to visit his brother, and the sooner he did, the sooner he could return to his haven.

His long legs made short work of crossing the hall. He bounded up the spiraling stone stairs with fake enthusiasm. He couldn’t recall when he’d last found anything exciting. After entering without knocking, he spun and closed the door on a whisper. That the room was opulent by vampire standards twisted his lips into a wry smile. As vampires, wealth was par for the course having amassed properties and other investments over the centuries. Managing their affairs was simpler now that they no longer had to hide their existence. He’d hated changing his name every eighty years or so.

Facing his brother, he sighed at him sprawled nonchalantly in a leather chair. “Your summons is pointless,” Gabriel said. “You’re insane to tempt the human laws like this, Sylvester. Your luck will run out, bringing the irritating yet futile human police down on us,” he growled at his younger brother. Frustration tensed his shoulders and clenched his fists.

He forced himself to relax, uncurling his fingers before running them through his hair. He didn’t like to reveal many emotions around Syl. With Leonardo, his advisor, sure. That was unavoidable when Leo was a telepath.

Gabriel nodded a greeting at Leo, who leaned his bulk against a wall, before he said, “Pissing off the humans isn’t going to solidify our alliances. You know this better than most.”

“We need fresh meat and soldiers.” Syl bounded out of the chair to pace, revealing his agitation.

“Are the clubs not providing?” Gabriel wasn’t in the least concerned.

The de Winter Hold owned various nightclubs—all depraved, appeasing sexual appetites no matter the preference. These establishments kept them well-funded and well-stocked. He shook his head…and well-satiated. He often visited Elixir when he was in an amorous mood. Lyssa, the club’s manager, kept a few blondes just for his enjoyment. Heat surged through his loins, and an unexpected arousal strained against his jeans. Perhaps it was time he relieved his growing tension.

“There are only so many humans in this city,” Syl said as he sipped his meal from a wine glass. “Our reputation has preceded us, and recruitment has stagnated. Those bastard shifters are taking half of the recruiting pool as well.”

“Yet you trust them with this formula?” Gabriel arched a brow. Hearing about the supposed cure bored him, but he endured hours of discussions because it altered Syl’s countenance to that of his youth. Seeing him so carefree like when they were children always brought Gabriel pleasure. Those moments were as if centuries of vampirism hadn’t marred his brother’s soul.

“We’re close to freedom,” Syl said with conviction.

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