Hunter's Rise (11 page)

She’d done a damn good job of hiding her presence until she was all but on top of him, and he was impressed. But he felt it now— a strange void. All he had to do was lock on that and he felt it
more
.

She was about a quarter mile behind him when his phone rang. Far enough away that she wouldn’t hear Bobby, and that was good enough. She’d hear
his
voice, he figured, but the voice on the other end of the line was a different story.

“Should I just meet you?” Bobby asked as Toronto came on the line.

“No. We stay moving. Don’t circle back, either.”

No response.

“What do you know about Pulaski?”

“Personally, nothing.” Toronto had to strain to hear the nuances in the man’s voice— cell phones were all well and good, but sometimes the reception sucked and crowds made it that much worse. But he didn’t detect anything of a lie in Bobby’s voice. And Bobby was too interested in living to lie to Toronto.

“You better have something to tell me,” he warned softly.

“Nothing that I can say for certain is true.” Bobby paused and then in a low, rushed voice, added, “There are rumors
about this deal— sort of like a prostitution ring. I’ve heard he likes boys from there.”

Toronto narrowed his eyes. “There are all sorts of prostitution rings in Memphis, Bobby. You’re not being helpful.”

“This is out of a school, out in Cordova. Some of the teachers even know about it.”

F

It could be hot and metallic, or hot and woodsy, like a forest fire just starting to burn.

This was a forest fire and it flooded the air around her with such intensity, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see the air going red with flame. She moved into the shadows and started to run, keeping her pace to a mortal speed.

It was the werewolf. She had no doubts about that.

She just knew.

What had him so angry…?

She came around the corner just in time to see him lowering a phone. Narrowing her eyes, she stared at him.

He turned around and his gaze connected with hers.

Once more, that jolt ripped through her. Want. Need. Burning hunger. He was closer now, less than thirty feet away and she could all but smell the warmth of his skin, all but feel it warming her own. Her fangs throbbed in their sheaths, aching to lower themselves and press against flesh.

As he started toward her, she flexed her hand.

He was sexy as hell, with that warrior’s body and angelic face. Something about him flipped every switch she had, but still.

She had to be careful.

The whole damn reason she was stuck in this life was because she’d once trusted a pretty face.

It wasn’t happening again.

R

They had much bigger problems than the sexy vampire coming his way.

Much bigger.

But the vamp still needed to be dealt with, and they still had to handle Pulaski. Oh, the fucking joy.

He had to get his brain focused on those problems and away from Sylvia James, but damned if that wasn’t hard to do. In the back of his mind, his wolf was growling, rumbling under his skin and whispering,
Want… want…

She was even better in person.

Staring at her made the blood in his body hum. His cock throbbed, burned.
Hurt.
A faint smile curved the lush pink of her mouth, left him wondering what she was thinking. Then somebody came tumbling out of the bar next to her, spilling bright lights of blue and red onto the sidewalk, and Toronto had a better idea.

As the rainbow of lights flickered off the blade she’d concealed in her left hand, he studied the crush of people around them. It wasn’t as crowded here as it was just a few streets over on Beale, but it was still crowded enough.

Not the ideal place for a fight. He’d done it before and managed to avoid human casualties, but he suspected that Sylvia James was a different breed from what he was used to. Ferals fought to live, so they could kill— by nature, most of them weren’t always clearheaded. Sylvia, like him, was a trained killer.
She
would be clearheaded. It would make a difference.

He hunted the ferals.

She hunted for money.

In the end, he’d win, because he was stronger.

But he didn’t want to have to fight her. He wanted to have sex with her— down and dirty sex, maybe up against a wall, in the light so he could watch her. Then on a bed, her body under his, or over… his hands tangled in that dark, silken hair.

“You know, most men would at least bother to introduce themselves before the guy starts picturing the woman naked,” she drawled, coming to a stop eighteen inches away.

Toronto smirked. “That’s bullshit. We see a woman, we frequently picture them naked. We mess with the names when we want to actually think about getting them in bed.
Some of us, at least.” He skimmed a look over her body, taking in the sleek muscles, the powerhouse curves. Then he focused on her face again, smiled slowly. “So. What’s your name?”

She laughed. “Oh, you’re smooth. Too bad I’m only in town for a little while.”

“Business?”

“Hmmm.” She cocked a black brow at him. “Am I interrupting something important? You sounded sort of aggravated on the phone.”

“You like listening to private conversations?”

With a lazy shrug, she sauntered around him. Toronto tracked her movements by watching her reflection in the window of the nearest bar. As she circled back around in front of him, he checked her knife hand. Still in the left hand, tucked out of sight so nobody would see it unless they were looking for it. She was very, very good.

He was just better.

“Just curious. You’re a pretty high-level wolf. It’s got to take something serious to get you mad. The tough ones are supposed to have mad skills in the control department.” She smiled again and this time, it was touched with a glint of devilishness. “I’ve always wondered if those mad skills translated over into other areas.”

The air between them heated, and Toronto was hard-pressed not to close the distance and press his mouth to hers, see how she tasted. But if she was going to try and pull that knife on him… shit, another complication. He really, really wanted a taste of her, but he didn’t get naked with women who tried to kill him.

Toronto didn’t have a lot of rules, but that was one of them.

Still, he wanted to touch her. Reaching up, he toyed with the ends of her hair. She stilled, that particular stillness unique to vampires. She didn’t breathe, didn’t move. Yet there was a strange sense of life, awareness to her. Her eyes, so dark they were nearly black, locked on his and he took another chance, reached up and laid his hand along her throat, his thumb resting in the notch at the base of her neck.

Her skin, silky and cool, warmed under his touch. He wanted to feel that happen along her entire body.

“So.” She watched him from under hooded lashes. “After I finish my business, maybe I could meet you somewhere.”

S

He continued to watch her, his gaze strangely hooded. He didn’t look at all worried. At all concerned. Probably hadn’t realized she had a blade in her hand. A werewolf with as much power as he had banked inside him wasn’t going to stand there and let somebody hold a knife that close without reacting in some manner.

“That probably won’t work,” he said, quietly, his eyes shifting down to linger on her mouth for just a moment. Then he sighed and stroked his thumb along her throat. “A pity, Sylvia James.”

She tensed and before she could stop it, her heart banged against her rib cage, once. Hard and fast. Already in motion, she jerked up her knife.

But he was faster—
so
much faster. And she knew.

Hunter—

The blade was in his hand and he stood five feet away. “If you try to kill Pulaski, I’ll have to stop you.” He eased farther away, moving into an alley at his back, away from the press of people.

Sylvia curled her lip at him. “Fucking Boy Scout. Don’t you know what he did?”

“Yeah. I know.” Something flickered in his eyes, a flash of rage. Gone within a blink. “If I had my way, I’d spill his guts all over the place and I’d do it in a way that he’d live long enough to suffer. But…”

“If you breathe so much as a word about human laws,
I’ll
be the one doing the gutting.”

He grinned at her.

“Bloodthirsty. In more ways than one. I admire that in a woman.” Then the grin faded, and once more he stood there
staring at her with solemn, serious eyes, his face grim. “You can’t kill him. He can’t die… yet.”

Something in his voice whispered down her spine and made her still. Narrowing her eyes at him, she moved deeper into the alley.
“Why?”

“Because there are still victims missing— bodies that haven’t been recovered. Their parents deserve to have bodies to bury.”

Sympathy stirred inside her as she thought of the boys she’d uncovered in her research. Yeah, she wanted to find answers for all of them. But she’d promised Toby’s parents she’d get justice for their son… and she’d do it. Pulaski had to die.

She’d accepted a contract. She’d complete it.

“That’s not my concern.”

She expected to see disgust in his eyes. Disapproval.

All he did was shrug. “I figured that would be your view on it. Which is why my priority is getting to him before you do.” He threw her knife into the air, caught it. Over and over, until the blade was just a silver blur above his hand. “Pity for you… the sun will rise in about a couple of hours. While you’re in your coffin, I’ll be out hunting. So unless you find him tonight…”

She curled a lip at the coffin comment. She’d spent about as much time in a coffin as
he
probably had. And he knew it. “You have to sleep sometime.”

“I never did sleep all that much.” He smiled at her. And then, he hurled the blade. She held still as it buried itself into the crumbled concrete at her feet.

Bastard. The blade would need to be sharpened again.

She lifted her gaze just in time to see his booted feet disappear out of her line of vision. He was already halfway up the old, rusted excuse for a fire escape.

To follow or not to follow…

Except she didn’t have time.

He was right about one thing.

She had to go to ground soon. And he could search around the clock. He’d have to rest sooner or later, but Masters
came with higher power levels. Sylvia was a mean-ass vampire and she knew how to kill. But she wasn’t a Master. She’d never be a Master and sunlight was still a fatal— and she meant
fatal
—weakness for her.

Damn it.

R

“Unless you’re bleeding from every bodily orifice or you’ve turned him over to mortal cops, you get your ass back out there,” Rafe snapped.

“Bigger problems than the mercenary,” Toronto said, shaking his head.

“
Bigger
problems than the fact that she’s out there hunting for him and you’re not?”

“Source says he might have connections to a prostitution ring… a kiddie ring— a bunch of high school kids.” Toronto crossed his arms over his chest and waited, watched as Rafe’s eyes flickered to red and then back to his normal black.

“Go on.”

“It may or may not be connected to a local school. Highbrow area, too, over in Cordova.” Toronto relayed what Bobby had told him, hitting the highlights. “He thinks a few teachers are involved, but he doesn’t know the names.”

“You’re sure?”

Toronto tugged the band from his hair absently. The pale strands fell forward to frame his face as he stared at Rafe. “Positive. This guy isn’t one who would lie to me.”

“Shit, you mean you got a real friend somewhere around here?”

Toronto snorted. “No. What I have is a weak, sniveling werewolf who knows I’d rather rip his guts out than look at him. He won’t give me an excuse. Lying about anything, even jaywalking, is about all the excuse I’d need with this guy.”

“Are you too close to a line, Toronto?” Rafe asked softly, his eyes narrowed.

“No. Trust me. Even you’d be hard-pressed with this one, your mercifulness.”

Rafe blew out a breath, doubt written all over him. But he nodded. “Okay. Go on. Get back to finding Pulaski. We’ll get to work on this other problem.”