Chapter Nine
Byron
Wilder had asked me for help. I was unsure at how I was supposed to take that.
Was he going to ask me to kill someone? If he asked me to, I would.
I wouldn’t even get hung up on it. I’d do it merely because he’d asked it of me, but I didn’t want it to be that.
I wanted him to see me for more than just my skills with murder which was… interesting.
It wasn’t long until Benji’s party, but Damyr was having trouble with some low life vampires who thought they could muscle in on his territory. Nobody operated in this city without the approval of one of the three ruling families and even then, they’d have to pay a percentage for the privilege.
“It’s fucking cold tonight,” Bishop said as he pulled his beanie lower over his ears.
“It’s not that bad.” It wasn’t tropical, but I could still feel my balls. I didn’t feel the cold like Bishop did. I was wearing my normal tactical gear, but my twin looked like he was about to visit the penguins in Antarctica.
I peered through the binoculars and focussed on the target.
The guy’s name was John Brown—which was a stupid and completely unoriginal name for a vampire—and he was the leader of this rag-tag crew of misfit vampires that had come up with the idea that they could sell drugs in the Morozov territory and get away with not paying the percentage.
We’d reached out a few times with some warnings, but John had yet to concede.
So, Damyr had sent me in to take care of the problem.
I was just going to have a little fun first.
There were five vampires from what I could see in the condemned building over the road.
Bishop and I were perched on top of a decrepit warehouse in the old shipping district.
Not much went on down here, but it was a cheap place to find a home if you could find one that wasn’t about to crumble into a pile of rubble.
Damyr was looking to rebuild a lot of this area, but we had to clear out the shit first. He had a plan to relocate the residents temporarily so he could rip everything down, build it all again and move them back in.
“What’s the plan?” Bishop asked. “The usual?”
The ‘usual’ consisted of Bishop being my eyes and ears whilst I went into the building and killed everyone. “Yes. Although, I’ll be doing this one with my eyes closed.”
“The fuck? Why?”
“They’re vampires. Can’t trust my eyes because they move too quick.
” I’d be relying on sound and touch for this one.
There was something thrilling about hunting something that was more powerful than me but still coming out on top.
I might only be human, but I was more of a killer than these creatures.
Every time I killed a target that was higher up the predator chain than me, my ego got a little bigger.
“You’re crazy,” Bishop said, but there was a warmth in his tone.
I dropped to my knee and rummaged through the duffel bag at my feet. I pulled out one of my favourite weapons, the crossbow.
Nothing like shooting some vampires with stakes to get the blood pumping.
I also had some silver throwing knives and some handy little sunburst potions that fried their skin.
“I’m going in. Just shout out where you can see the vampires.
I’ll kill the others and snatch John so we can have a little chat about who is supplying him and whether there is anything else at play here. ”
Excitement and adrenaline started to bubble up inside me and my fingers flexed and curled around the handle of the crossbow.
Bishop wrapped his hand around my arm as I brushed past him. “Be safe, Byron.”
I winked at him and grinned. “Always am.”
He snorted. “From what I hear, you always end up with a new stab wound or bullet hole. Please don’t make me carry your heavy ass back home.”
“No promises. I like the pain,” I replied with a shrug as I hitched the crossbow onto my shoulder.
“Weirdo,” Bishop shot back and his laugh followed me down the fire escape.
I dragged my phone out of my back pocket and fired off a quick text to Wilder. I hadn’t heard anything since he’d asked for help and I wanted to make sure he was okay.
And thinking about me.
ME
Just off doing a bit of vampire hunting. Would you miss me if I died?
BABY
No. I hope they rip you into tiny pieces.
I smiled. He’d totally miss me. Who else would he mouth off to?
I liked that Wilder was bratty, liked that he wasn’t too afraid of me to backchat.
Nobody apart from Damyr and his inner circle did that, and even then, they never pushed the boundaries too much just in case I snapped.
I knew I was unstable, knew the slightest thing could have me reaching for my gun and pulling the trigger, but Wilder didn’t seem to care.
It seemed to me that he was just as crazy as I was.
Either that, or he had one hell of a death wish.
Hmm, I wonder what he’d let me get away with…
Would he let me mar that pretty skin? I wanted to leave a road map of bruises on his body so that everyone knew who he belonged to. I itched to see all those shades of red and purple against his pale skin.
Fuck. Would he let me cut him?
A shudder ran through me at the image of Wilder bound to my bed with blood trailing down his back, and I pressed the heel of my palm into my aching dick that was now ridiculously hard in my pants. How did this man have such an effect on me? The mere thought of him made me hard.
For fuck’s sake. Hunting vampires was going to be more challenging with a hard on.
I crossed the street to the house and was surprised the thing was still standing.
The windows were broken and boarded up in places, the cement between the bricks was cracked and the roof was full of holes.
The buildings either side were already in pieces so at least there weren’t any nosy neighbours to deal with.
I wasn’t going for the subtle entry today. Even with a potion to suppress all the sound I might make, the vamps would still be able to sense me coming.
So, I slammed my foot into the front door and strode in like I owned the place.
Three vampires stood in the middle of the room, fangs bared and claws out.
“Who the fuck are you?” the middle one said. He was wearing a matching shell suit, and his hair was streaked with blonde tips. The idiot looked like a walking advert for the 90s.
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” I replied, taking aim with my crossbow. “What matters is which of you fuckers is John Brown.”
The skanky looking vamp on the left stepped forward with an ugly grin before using his vampire speed to fly towards me.
I fired the crossbow, hoping that the fool thought I was dumb enough to outsmart, but I wasn’t stupid and this wasn’t my first rodeo.
The skanky vamp jolted out of his vamp speed, a wooden stake sticking out of his chest. As predicted, the asshole had just lunged straight for me. Honestly, would it kill these idiots to be slightly more creative in their attacks?
“I’ll kill you for that,” 90s Icon hissed as he looked at his little buddy lying still on the dirty ground. The stake through the heart wouldn’t kill the guy—shame—but it would keep him immobile long enough until I’d burnt this place to the ground. Now that would kill him.
“You can try,” I said with a grin as I loaded up another stake in my crossbow.
The vamp on the right who wore a floral shirt, ripped jeans and had a face like a weasel zoomed around the room, closing all the mangy curtains and throwing us all into darkness.
My smile widened even more.
This was fucking perfect.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and listened.
One…
There was a step to my right.
Two…
A scuff of boots to my left.
Three…
The faintest breeze against my right cheek.
I snapped to my left and fired the crossbow again. There was a thud and a satisfying squelch followed by a loud scream.
Twisting to my right, I pulled out one of my silver throwing knives and launched it towards the other vampire I could sense in my periphery. A sharp sting cut across my left shoulder as the vampire fell towards the ground.
When I opened my eyes, weaselly vamp was pinned to the wall, a stake through his chest, and 90s Icon was staring at the silver knife in his gut.
“Everything good?” Bishop asked, his voice soft through my earpiece.
I kept my eyes on 90s Icon as he squirmed in pain. “Yeah, just a little scratch. Three down. Where are the other two?”
“Second floor. One hasn’t moved and I think he’s guarding something. The other is scrambling and burning some shit.”
Guarding something? I wondered what they had up there. “Switch the binoculars to infrared and tell me what you see.”
“I’ll kill you for this,” 90s Icon sputtered, thick dark blood pooling in the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah, yeah. Of course you will.” Honestly, some people just didn’t know when to quit. “You won’t be doing anything until you take that knife out of your stomach.”
The vamp looked at it and winced. Yeah, that fucker was going to hurt. Apparently, silver felt like acid to a vampire, and that blade was completely made of silver. It would strip the skin from his hand if he touched it and it was probably making his stomach feel like it was disintegrating.
“You’ve got a heat source on the second floor,” Bishop said.
“How many?”
“One. Better move, Byron. John looks like he’s finished whatever he was burning in the grate.”
“Keep your eyes on him and tell me if he disappears.”
Shit. Well, at least I’d get to torture some answers out of him.
I crouched down next to 90s Icon and wrapped my hand around the hilt of the knife. “Are you going to tell me anything useful?”
“Fuck you,” he sputtered.
I twisted the knife, and he howled in pain. “Now, that’s not very helpful. Do you know who’s giving you the drugs to sell?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know anything. I just sell them.”
“How old is John Brown?” Damyr would be pissed if this asshole wasn’t even a century old.
The vamp’s brow dropped in a confused scowl. “Who?”