Chapter One
“This hunter’s damn good,” Ian Mordoor mumbled to himself as he squatted next to the body and touched the arrow imbedded in the man’s chest. The bolt was top-of-the-line, meant to kill. He squinted against the setting autumn sun. If the man had been a vampire instead of a Transer, he’d be looking at scarred ash instead.
Transers. The fact they even existed made Ian’s blood boil. Leave them human or make them Vampri if special circumstances warranted it, but don’t suspend them in that needy in-between state; no longer human, but not quite vampire. Slightly stronger and faster than humans, Transers craved blood. But unlike vampires, Transers didn’t have the ability to compel or fangs to easily take the blood they wanted. They were volatile, driven purely by instinct, and their very existence put the Kendrian vampires at risk of exposure. Only rogue vamps created Transers, knowing that a Transer would follow their every command at the promise of being turned Vampri.
Glancing up, Ian surveyed the deserted train station fifteen yards away. The yellow paint on the building peeled with age and neglect. He surmised the smaller building off to the right, with windows and door boarded up, was the control station. Using his heightened senses, he sniffed the air. In the abandoned atmosphere, he detected no unusual scents stirring in the slight breeze other than the stench of the man at his feet.
Despite the dead body before him, the place was eerily quiet. Somewhere the vampire hunter lay in wait. He heard the faster-paced beat of a human heart, the blood coursing through the man’s veins. Shifting his gaze back to the body on the ground, he squatted to inspect him. The skin felt cold to the touch. Rigor mortis had already set in. Based on the body’s condition, he had to have been dead at least fourteen hours.
Ian couldn’t help but smile. He gave the vampire hunter one thing—the man had tenacity and stamina by the cartloads. The hunter had to have chased Drace here, because Ian knew Drace. The vamp was used to life’s luxuries. Drace never would’ve come to an abandoned train station of his own free will. His gaze settled on Drace’s BMW. All four tires had been slashed. The hunter must have corralled Drace here on the brink of dawn. Like a rabbit in a snare.
His smile turned to a grin as his admiration for the hunter grew. The abandoned train station held no food source for the rogue vamp, and the longer he went without a food source, his vampire powers diminished to a glimmer of his full power. He couldn’t shape shift into a raven or turn into mist to get away. For now, he was bound to earth, just like his human hunter. Here, he was forced to remain hidden until the sun disappeared from the sky. Right now the hunter had the advantage.
Ian had been on Drace’s trail for a month now. From Chicago to Florida he’d chased the ousted vamp. Before he officially took over his newly appointed position as leader of the Ruean clan, Ian vowed to eliminate Drace for his role in the brutal killing of a vampire hunter named John Markson. It shouldn’t have taken him this long to track the bastard down, but several Rueans had helped Drace escape him on more than one occasion. Considering his last conversation with Duncan before he left, Ian was sure his brother was having a good laugh that Drace had eluded him this long.
Many of the Rueans weren’t happy Ian had been appointed their new leader once their original leader, Kraid, had been killed—Drace, most of all, since Kraid was his brother. Never had a hunt for a rogue vampire been more important to him, especially now that eliminating Drace would go a long way in establishing his leadership over the Ruean clan. There were still those in his clan who believed in the old ways—that only a Pureblood vampire should lead a clan.
Between Drace and the vampire hunter, all Ian had to do was follow their trail. They each left a path of bodies behind—humans Drace killed after gorging himself on their blood and Transers, killed by the vampire hunter. Ian considered himself one of the best trackers, but for some reason this vampire hunter always seemed to have the jump on him when it came to Drace.
Standing up, he fisted his hand. He respected the vampire hunter for his tireless efforts, but Drace was his to hunt down. The thought spurred him into action. Ian might have the advantage of being able to walk in the sunlight, but he fully recognized the limitations of his Hybrid—half human-half vampire—powers compared to a Pureblood vamp. Instead, he depended more on his hunting skills to catch his vamp prey. The signs were always there, if one knew where to look.
As he inspected the soft dirt around the body beside him, the booted footprints told the tale. Whoever killed the vamp had checked to make sure he was dead. Ian followed the footprints. The prints were smaller than he expected, but then size wasn’t a requirement to be a good hunter. Nerves of steel were.
Peering around the corner of the building, he caught sight of a woman crouched near the abandoned train cars ten feet away. Two chopsticks speared through the mass of jet black hair on her head, keeping it out of her face, while giving him a nice view of her slender neck. She wore a white tank top that clung to her generous breasts, her chambray over-shirt tossed to the ground. As she raised her arm, his gaze locked on the gun in her hand.
A woman caused all this? He chuckled inwardly. Drace must be grinding his fangs to nubs that he let himself be trapped by a mere woman. Ian crossed his arms and leaned against the wall to admire the rest of her shapely form.
While she checked her weapon, he appreciated her toned arms. His gaze dropped past her khaki cargo shorts where the muscles in her thighs and calves, clearly cut and defined, caused him to harden instantly. As much as he wanted to take inventory of the rest of her assets, it was her choice of weapons that drew his attention and ultimate respect.
She checked and reloaded her crossbow pistol with practiced ease, almost as if she could do so in her sleep. A weapon known for its deadly accuracy, the crossbow pistol was slow to load compared to a semiautomatic with a clip. And with her enemy’s known speed, the fact she chose such a weapon spoke of her confidence in her abilities as well as her courage.
Nor was she stupid. He grinned as he surveyed the arsenal of other weapons on her person. She had a throwing knife clipped to her belt and a thicker, longer Bowie knife strapped to her thigh. When she turned and rolled her shoulders, as if to ease the fatigue from a long night of lying in wait, he caught a glimpse of the semiautomatic handgun tucked against her spine in the waist of her pants. Good girl, he thought.
As if she sensed his presence, the woman looked up and turned her head until she spotted him. He stared at her, meeting her steady gaze. She narrowed her eyes and slowly turned her body to face him. Ian checked his watch with unhurried movements. He looked up at the setting sun, then met her gaze and mouthed “show time”.
Jax Markson stared at the man leaning against the train station. A warning vibrated through her body the way it always did when a vamp was near. But this time the sensation seemed fainter and accompanied a tremor that’d skidded down her spine, causing her to jerk herself upright and face him head-on.
She pegged him at around thirty-one, only a couple years older than her. Jax took in the tall, physically fit physique, the light brown hair with streaks of blond as if he’d spent time out in the sun. Serious eyes, framed with eyebrows a shade darker than his hair, gave him a rugged, rough-around-the-edges look. Of course, that look might have to do with the five o’clock shadow he sported or the black t-shirt he wore tucked into well-worn faded jeans.
Her pulse raced when he pushed off the wall and started toward her. She knew he wasn’t a vamp, but she hadn’t survived this long on her hunting skills alone. Being prepared was half the battle. She raised her weapon. Just then, a vamp leapt toward the stranger from the roof of an adjacent building. The stranger didn’t take his eyes off her as he pulled a gun from the holster strapped to his shoulder and held it straight out to his side, pegging the oncoming Vampri. His attacker crumpled to the ground, dead.
Damn, that was good. A small smile of appreciation played at her lips. The stranger must be a hunter, too. She’d chased the lead vampire, known as Drace, and his two minion vamps here. The other hunter had just taken care of the second bloodsucker. Now there was just Drace left. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her stomach tensed as the stranger continued his slow, measured pace toward her.
A grating sound off to her left drew her attention as one of the train car doors opened. Drace jumped down to the ground, spotted the hunter coming toward her, then immediately vaulted to the roof of the car. Damn vamp powers. She slitted her gaze as the vampire drew his gun and fired. The stranger dove the remaining distance and landed next to her against the locomotive.
Well, shit. The idiot just gave away her one advantage. In his weakened condition, she doubted the vamp knew she was so close. He hadn’t even looked her way. If she hadn’t been so distracted by the other vampire hunter, she would’ve had the vamp by now.
Jax wasn’t taking any chances. She’d already lost out on killing his sadistic brother, Kraid, since someone beat her to it. Drace was hers! The murdering fiend had to pay and she’d earned this kill. She started to climb the ladder leading to the top of the train when a strong hand clamped around her ankle, yanking her back down.
“What’er you? Nuts? He has a gun and he’ll be waiting for you,” he hissed quietly in her ear. The deep timbre of his voice combined with the faint accent tracing his words rolled across her nerves like warm honey. The sound made her want to hear him speak again to see if she’d imagined the slight inflection in his tone. She shook off the curious sensation and instead landed a well-placed elbow in his chest. His muffled grunt surprised her. Jax expected a whoosh of lost breath for her efforts. Apparently, the man was made of steel. Long fingers clasped her upper arm in a firm grip.
With deft speed, she turned to him, placing her crossbow pistol over his heart, finger braced on the trigger. “Unless you want to be another bone sack in this train yard, I suggest you let go of my arm.”
The man stood a good seven inches taller then her five-eight frame. Jax had to look up just to meet his gaze. At first his golden eyes narrowed as if he planned to refuse her, then his gaze darkened as he openly assessed her. He pressed his lips together, giving evidence to a mouth that could be hard or sensual, depending on his mood. And from his current, unyielding stance she had a feeling he could be both types of man if the situation warranted it.
“Fine. I was just trying to help you,” he ground out and released her arm. Backing away, he raised his hands, his weapon dangling from his thumb.
She lifted her eyebrow. “You’re the one with the gun trained on you.”
He flashed a smile. “Look again.”
When Jax lowered her gaze, his gun laser was pegging her between the breasts. Damn, he was fast. She hadn’t even seen him move.
The hunter drew a slow circle with the red light around her left breast before stopping right over her heart. Smartass show-off. Jax ground her teeth together.
Somehow she knew the guy wouldn’t actually shoot her. She decided to test the theory, but just in case, she kept her gun trained on him while she climbed the ladder. When she neared the top of the train, she slid her gun in the specially made holster on her shoulder and pulled her thick-bladed Bowie knife out of its sheath from her leg. Using the blade as a mirror, she raised it over her head to look around the top of the train car.
When the setting sunlight glinted on her blade, shots rang out, pinging near the surface above her. Before she pulled her knife down, Jax saw Drace turn and vault over to the next train car in a full run. Slamming the knife into its sheath, she climbed to the top in time to see the other vampire hunter running down the train cars after Drace. How the hell did he get up here ahead of her?
No way was this guy getting the jump on her. Jax took off after the men, while pulling a three-stoned bola out of her pants side pocket. Whirling the weapon in her hand, she let the strings and weight of the stones build in momentum, then flung the weapon toward the hunter’s legs. He went down hard as the bola’s strings ensnared his knees, wrapping tight.
Just to make sure he didn’t grab her as she passed and also for some extra in-your-face, Jax jumped on his butt, bounding over the rest of his body like a graceful gazelle. “Better luck next time,” she called over her shoulder as she kicked his dropped gun off the top of the train, then continued after Drace.
Ian yanked at the offending leather strings entangled around his legs until they snapped. Jumping to his feet, he took off after the female hunter, his jaw clenched that he’d been so thoroughly one-upped. But then, he’d never run into another hunter quite like this woman either. What was the fascinating beauty’s name? he wondered as she streaked across the train several car lengths ahead of him.
His boots made dull thumping sounds as he sped over the metal train cars. He held back his running speed, not wanting to give away his vampire status to the trigger-happy hunter. Who knew what the woman’s motivations were. Maybe all it took was hearing the word “vampire” for her to turn on him. He could see it now. As he lay lying in a pool of his own blood, she would say, “Oh, sorry I shot you. You’re a good vamp? There’s such a thing?”
He shook off the amusing thought as he finally caught up with her. She stood in a firing stance, crossbow pistol trained on Drace, who’d reached the end of the train cars and held his pistol on her as well. They were fifteen feet away from one another and clearly at a standoff.
Drace’s lips twisted in a sneer when Ian stepped next to her. “I can’t believe the ‘great’ Ian has let a woman catch up to me first.”
She turned a surprised gaze his way, but then faced Drace once more, her eyes narrowed. “Quit talking to him, Drace. Face your death like a man. Or should I say, like a sorry excuse for a man, Vampire,” she sneered.
Ian gave Drace a humorless smile. “This woman has you earthbound and using a gun at the moment. I’d say she’s a formidable foe.” Ian glanced her way. “As good as you are, he’s mine,” he told her with a steely look.
Drace’s cruel mouth had thinned in response to Ian’s deliberate dig, but then his lips curved in amusement and he began to laugh, his black eyes full of delight. “It feels so good to be fought over.” Sobering quickly, his dark brows slashed downward. “But it seems to me that I have the advantage here.” As if to punctuate his words, he lifted his chin toward the woman’s one-shot pistol and then jerked his semiautomatic weapon in a mocking fashion.
Ian couldn’t help the tilt of his lips. While she stood there, crossbow trained on Drace, the woman’s other hand held the grip of the handgun she’d tucked in her belt behind her back. No doubt about it, she was ready. To Drace, she appeared to be laying her hand on her spine to balance herself.
Drace noticed his grin and the bravado faded from his eyes. He looked directly at the woman and pulled the trigger. Anticipating his move, Ian dove toward her, knocking her out of the way and right over the edge of the train.
Copyright © Patrice Michelle. All Rights Reserved