Page 338 of Hunters and Prey

They’d procreated with humans and produced two new breeds—Dragon Bloods and Skins. The former were magnificent specimens of beauty, strength, and intellect—blond-haired, blue-eyed, and perfectly proportioned—while the Skins turned out to be half-breed mutations with varying levels of aptitude and strength. The stories spoke of a time of peace between the Skins and the Bloods—a time when the older, better-looking child had shared the sandbox with their ugly sibling. But this time had lasted only long enough for the Skins to help the Bloods overthrow the Dreki and push them out of the city into the Furtherlands. Once the Bloods had claimed the Dreki stronghold, they’d renamed it Draco City and enslaved the Skins. Obviously, we’d fought back. We escaped to the Outlands, and the Bloods had finally left us the heck alone.

I guess the ongoing war with the Dreki was enough to keep them busy. Draco City was now a tech-heavy metropolis. For what better way to fight magic than with technology? Technology was the Draco’s magic. It was their only weapon, because they’d inherited none of the arcane ability of the Dreki. Skins, on the other hand, were a varied bunch, and our connection to the arcane was stronger, resulting in killer instincts, premonition, and, in some cases, uncanny luck. Unfortunately for me, all I seemed to have inherited was a barrel of aggression and the ability to wield pretty much any weapon I set my mind to.

Helgi slammed her fist on the bar. “Hey, Henry. Two ales, mate.”

Henry, the barman and owner of the Tap, raised his chin in acknowledgment, then continued serving his current customer.

“Damn, I’m parched.” Helgi smacked her lips together, leaned back against the bar, and scanned the room. “Any juicy cunny around?”

I rolled my eyes. “You seriously have a one-track mind.”

She glanced at me and sighed. “Shit, how selfish of me. Anya, would you like me to source you some cock?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh, wait, I forgot, you’re not interested.”

I snorted. “Piss off.”

It had been a while since my last liaison. Men were either intimidated by me or purely frightened. I was taller than most Skin males. Even Helgi was a head shorter than me. Sex for me was simply a release. Emotion didn’t come into it, and that was fine by me.

“No talent in here tonight anyway.” Helgi sniffed in derision.

The bar was filled with Skins, but there were no humans. There hadn’t been a human sighting for a very long time; many believed them to be extinct.

“Stop thinking so hard, it makes you look constipated,” Helgi said.

“Yeah? And my fist in your face will make you look black and blue.”

“Ha! You wish you could get a shot in.”

Helgi was right, she was fast. We’d scuffled plenty, and I’d yet to knock her out.

“Come on!” Helgi waved the barman over. “Ladies waiting to be served here.”

“You ain’t no lady!” one of the men up the bar called out.

Helgi gave him the finger, and the guy and his comrades burst into laughter.

“Here you go, ladies.” Henry slammed two pints of ale onto the counter behind us.

I handed him several coins and tuned out the two Skins to our left haggling over the price of gunpowder. Ammo was pretty easy to make, but gunpowder didn’t always come cheap. Another reason I stuck to my crossbow and blades.

The first gulp of ale went down smooth. Damn, that hit the spot.

A plump brunette sashayed over to the bar. Her gaze skimmed over me and settled on Helgi, who stood up straighter and puffed out her chest like a prize peacock. Great. The mating dance was beginning, but if I let it continue my over-sexed friend would vanish into the night with her lover and any hope of a paying job would be out the window.

I slung an arm around Helgi’s shoulders and glared at the brunette in a back-the-fuck-off way. Her expression closed, and she quickly turned her head away.

Helgi shrugged me off. “I hate you, you know that?”

“We’re here to work, remember?”

“Pah.” Her lips turned down, but her green eyes twinkled in amusement.

Helgi was a handsome woman with strong, sharp features, and she loved fucking—men or women, but of late, mostly women. It was her escape from her shitty home life, which consisted of two lowlife brothers who expected her to pay their way while they lounged about doing nothing.

Helgi’s eyes narrowed, and she took a long swig of her ale. “Barret at three o’clock.”

A rush of heat ran through my veins. Barret was our main source of intel in the Outlands. The man was a ghost unless he wanted to be seen. If he was here, it meant he had a job for us.

Please let it be something violent.

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