CREAM (On the Hunt) (2 page)

“Fine,” she snapped. A quick glance around showed no vehicles in the vicinity. She didn’t have a car—couldn’t afford one yet—so that meant riding with Teaghan. Joy.

Teaghan jerked his thumb to the company parking lot. “My ride’s that way.”

She prayed for something normal. She got a black convertible sports car—top down—that sat two people and had blue lightning racing along the sides. “Subtle.”

“Fast.” He hopped over the side and settled onto the seat. “You were expecting a lowrider, right?”

“Whatever.” She opened the passenger door and dropped onto the seat with her duffel bag wedged between her legs. Emphasis on the drop. She hated sports cars for this reason. Any car that required putting her hand on the ground to get out of it was too low. Cars like that might be fast but they were also death traps in a collision.

Of course a vampire wouldn’t worry about something like that. So long as his head and heart were intact, he could heal anything else.

“You can stash the bag in the trunk.”

Yeah, that would make sense though she was surprised the car had a trunk. She was already seated though. “Just drive.”

“Whatever.” Teaghan revved the engine to life and spun the tires before peeling out of the parking lot with the back end fishtailing.

Jeliyah sighed, not impressed. Cars didn’t do it for her. She didn’t know any woman who did get off on cars and the tricks men did in them. Then again, most of her former female friends were necromancers as well. With their background, a man needed to be a high class before Jeliyah and her friends began to think of him as potential dating material. Not that she had any delusions of catching the eye of a high class. A high-middle class like herself, maybe. Possibly a low-high class.

A regular high class was out of her reach even if she did manage to retire. Actually, everyone was out of her reach, retired or not. But retirement was still the goal. That was the only reason to put up with Teaghan.

The glint of a streetlamp off one of his gold chains made her sigh. If she could put up with. Guys like him got on her nerves.

Teaghan had been ready to put a bullet through Fredrick’s skull when the man dragged him off a hunt to meet his new necromancer partner. After a whole month sitting on his ass, Teaghan had finally gotten a call for a hunt. Fredrick had decided that was as good a time as any to stick Teaghan with a partner that Teaghan had to meet right that moment.

There were two things Teaghan didn’t tolerate—people interfering with his hunts and people interfering with his money. Since his hunts made him money, Fredrick was on Teaghan’s shit list…or he had been until Teaghan saw Jeliyah.

Actually, Fredrick had received a stay of execution the second Teaghan caught Jeliyah’s scent when she walked in the room. He’d drawn in a deep breath, inhaling her fragrance—cucumber and aloe mixed with cocoa butter. The cucumber-and-aloe scent came from her brown skin. That meant it was her bodywash or lotion. The aroma of cocoa butter originated from her straightened, shoulder-length black hair—hair grease was his first guess. The hint of something chemical under it all—also originating from her head—let him know she used relaxers to keep her hair straight.

All four of those distinct smells had revealed Jeliyah was black and female before Teaghan had swiveled his chair around. She might be disappointed with him but he found no fault with the way her jeans hugged her round hips and thick thighs or how her ample breasts strained the buttons of her shirt. Add full lips begging to be kissed and brown eyes that flashed with anger the same way he knew they would shine with passion and Teaghan had a recipe for a woman he wouldn’t mind being around for the next few months.

But he didn’t like necromancers. If not for the vampire-human cooperative, he wouldn’t have to put up with them. He did his job better than most without a necromancer at his side. The necromancers made him better but they made his competition better too. It was hard to enjoy the hunt and eventual kill when he had to worry about some asshole taking out the target before him.

“You been on a hunt before, sweetness?”

“My name is Jeliyah, not sweetness. And no, I haven’t.”

Teaghan rolled his eyes. Great. An amateur. That’s just what he didn’t need. “You’re about to get a crash course. I got pulled off a hunt to meet you.”

“Sorry to put you out,” she said in a sarcastic tone.

“You’re going to make it up to me or I’m taking your ass right back.”

Jeliyah inhaled softly and her heart rate sped up, letting Teaghan know he’d hit a nerve. He hadn’t missed her earlier conversation with Hirsch about sending her back to the campus. Teaghan might not know what the big deal was about going back to the campus, but he did know necromancers who refused to do their job caught shit the likes of which he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. Humans called vampires monsters but vampires couldn’t compete with cruelty like that.

He said, “Tell me you at least know what you’re doing?”

“I’m a high-middle class.”

“So?”

“Yes, I know what I’m doing,” she snapped.

“Good.” Teaghan grinned in the dark at her attitude, which further hinted at the presence of a backbone. At least she wasn’t mousy. The last necromancer he’d been stuck with had spent the entire partnership cowering in the background, afraid Teaghan would turn on him. Teaghan had had to keep an eye on his necromancer during hunts to make sure the man wouldn’t attack Teaghan and the rogue at the same time.

After Teaghan retired that necromancer, he’d told the reserve to go fuck themselves—in as polite a manner as possible—when they requested he come in to get his next necromancer. The stupid vampire-human cooperative required all enforcers to have a necromancer at their sides during hunts. Teaghan refused. He didn’t like babysitting humans. Hence why Fredrick had interfered with Teaghan’s hunt. A hunt he’d had to almost beat out of the dispatcher since the man had refused to give Teaghan any hunts while he didn’t have a partner.

If all Teaghan’s future necromancers looked like Jeliyah, he’d be there to meet them two seconds after the current one announced retirement status. But he knew better. Teaghan was in Hirsch’s jurisdiction, which meant all Teaghan’s future necromancers would be men. He did wonder who Jeliyah had pissed off to get stuck with Hirsch—or maybe it was the other way around. Small talk like that would have to wait for later though.

He parked his car in the empty lot outside the forest that led to the Marceaux estate. Rogues had a bad habit of being predictable. Most were assassins sent by one of the European families to take out the head of a clan. America had fifteen vampire families that had divided the country into territories. Those fifteen formed a parliamentary system that ruled over the American vampires. The only way for someone new to stake a claim—and become part of the parliament in one of the few nations that didn’t kill vampires on sight—was to take out the family in charge of the location they wanted.

Power struggles like this were as old as the vampires themselves. Humans had gotten involved once vampires were outed during a nasty little skirmish in the fifties. Two warring families had gotten carried away and revealed the existence of vampires to the world. Fast-forward a few decades and Teaghan was stuck escorting a necromancer on a hunt to appease some live-and-let-live treaty the vampire parliament had signed to end vampire-hunting season.

“Let’s do this.” He jumped out of the car then faced the necromancer.

She sucked in a deep breath before blowing it out and opening her car door. There was a little struggle while she clambered over the duffel bag between her legs to get out. Teaghan didn’t see this as a good start. Every vampire on the property could probably hear the noise she was making. That’s another reason he didn’t like necromancers. He might as well be hunting with a marching band following behind him. Humans didn’t know how to be quiet, not quiet enough so vampire ears couldn’t hear them.

Jeliyah opened her duffel bag and pulled out a gun shoulder harness and a palm-sized pouch. She put on the harness then opened the pouch. Teaghan felt the power the second she opened it. This was the other reason he hated necromancers. Their weapons made his skin crawl. Him and every other vampire on the planet.

Necromancers wielded weapons made of metal and magic using a recipe passed down from vampire hunters of old. Not every human had been oblivious of vampires prior to the outing. A few had turned killing vampires—assassins hadn’t always been rogues—into a lucrative business. The most famous of which were the Van Helsings, who humans had thought were nothing but characters in fiction until people found out vampires and their hunters were real.

The rings Jeliyah took from the pouch and put on her fingers all hummed softly. One ring on each finger, including her thumbs, and two bracelets, one for each wrist.

“Nice hardware. Planning to punch the rogue?”

Jeliyah met his gaze as she pulled her gun and leveled it at Teaghan’s feet. “Activate.” The gun hummed like the rings she wore. “The rings allow me to turn any gun or metal weapon I use into a necrome weapon. I happen to be ambidextrous.”

Teaghan whistled under his breath. Vampires moved too fast for bullets. Most vampires only dodged far enough to avoid being hit, preferring to let the projectile skim past them to show the shooter how useless the weapon was. Close vicinity to a necrome bullet would cause pain and eventual paralysis. Maybe he wouldn’t have to babysit this necromancer after all. “Ready?”

She nodded.

“Good. Where is he?” Teaghan turned toward the woods.

Jeliyah moved to his side. With her free hand, she rubbed the necrome hanging around her neck. “Locate.” She looked one way and then the other before saying, “There are three vampires in the woods. Two with markers and one without. The one without is skirting the perimeter in that,” she pointed to the left, “direction.”

“Fuck. Move your ass, necromancer. Some others are after my payday.” He ran forward but kept his pace slow so he wouldn’t lose Jeliyah. And the last reason he hated necromancers—they ran too slow. “Keep an eye on the markers. Let me know when they get close.”

Two others on the same hunt meant an accident might happen. And by accident he meant someone shooting him in the back to make sure he didn’t get the rogue before they did. Enforcers weren’t the work-together type. Not many people were when money was involved. But those other two had the same problem as Teaghan—they each had necromancers slowing them down.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Jeliyah keeping pace with him. He sped up and so did she. Good. At least she could run. And the way her tits bounced every time her feet struck the ground was nice too. Oh yeah, he definitely liked this necromancer better than the ones in the past.

If Teaghan kept looking over his shoulder and grinning at her like that, Jeliyah was going to shoot him in the back. Her trigger finger twitched. She told herself it was because of the necromes humming and not because she was considering firing on her partner.

A rip was one thing. That punishment had a time limit. Heading back to campus after injuring her enforcer without justification—self-defense was always excusable—was a punishment no necromancer wanted. That meant being presented to the vampires, who were given permission to do whatever they wanted to the necromancer until the slight was satisfied. It was a one-way street from which no one had ever returned.

Jeliyah didn’t know anyone who had warranted such a punishment but she’d heard the visiting alumni’s anecdotes of what they had witnessed—probably more horror stories to scare the underclassmen into behaving. Even if they exaggerated, there had to be some truth, which made the punishment something Jeliyah didn’t want happening to her.

Two glowing white dots in her peripheral vision were closing in on their position. Her tracking map—a mental image of the surrounding area and the vampires in it imposed over her regular vision—worked better with her eyes closed while she was in a stationary position, but that wasn’t an option.

In a low whisper, she said, “Markers incoming. Two and five.”

Teaghan glanced in the directions she’d indicated but didn’t stop running. “How fast?”

“Human speed.”

“Slower than us?”

“A little under.”

“Where’s the rogue?”

Jeliyah shifted her gaze to the lone red dot, which changed the orientation of the map and made her a little dizzy. Hence why it was better to use the map with her eyes closed while stationary. At least she didn’t stumble.

The red dot hadn’t moved. Was the rogue waiting for them? That was ballsy of him. Or maybe rogues did stuff like that. She said, “Twelve o’clock. We’re closest.”

“So the markers are coming after us.” Amusement tinged Teaghan’s voice.

Jeliyah didn’t know why he found that funny. Enforcer infighting was one of the first things necromancers learned about once they started training to be in the field. Lesson number one—stay out of it.

Necromancers were forbidden to hurt an enforcer unless that enforcer was attacking them. If the enforcers attacked each other, the necromancers had to let them go at it without interfering. Jeliyah didn’t feel like witnessing the vampire version of a pissing contest.

She stopped running and faced the position of the closest team.