Page 3 of Dark Stars

"Together, I don't think I need to do any sneaking. This poor hunter isn't all that."

Jones chuckled.

"Yeah, I reckon not."

He climbed out and settled his hat on his head, reaching up absently to touch the pendant tucked into his shirt, the bulge of it slightly visible.

Green-ish stone, cut into a diamond shape, the tips and edges razor fine.

When Bobby had decided to play human, his mother had gifted him three of the talismans.

At the time, he hadn't understood why, but not long after meeting Harold and Jones, he'd gotten it: they were for his friends, so they could really and truly be around him and not suffer harm from others simply because they were close to him.

He had one left to give, and felt the recipient would be appearing soon, though that could be wishful thinking.

Though it was always a good time to slip through shadows to come up behind people and scare the life out of them—figuratively, though he'd done it literally too once—Bobby opted for the more boring human method of using the door.

Jones followed behind him, which was hilarious because with anyone else, Jones would insist on going first. Even Harold, which would have pissed Harold off because he didn't need protecting, least of all from Jones. They were so silly.

"I know you're in here, hunter,"

Jones said.

"Ain't interested in trouble. I assume it's me you're looking for, as there ain't much else in town worth hunting."

Bobby snickered softly, the sound echoing through the empty warehouse.

Jones shot him a warning look.

A moment later, the scuff of shoes on the dirty concrete floor, and a man stepped into the splashes of moonlight coming through the skylights.

"You're the vampire that's a cop."

The hunter's voice was warm, pleasant, deep but not overly so, and he spoke in a loose, easy west coast accent. Californian, if Bobby had to guess.

"Sheriff, please and thanks,"

Jones drawled.

"Off duty right now. What are you doing creeping about an old warehouse if you already know so much about me?"

The man wrinkled his nose.

"Was passing through and smelled dragon. Something weird about it though."

"Eggs,"

Bobby said.

"Super rare for humans to come across, since they usually nest in more remote places."

"We got it handled,"

Jones added.

"Ain't no need for a trouble-causing hunter to come crashing through here."

"I told you I was just passing through,"

the hunter replied, irritation slipping into his voice.

"I've got no interest in you, vampire. I just wanted to investigate the dragon. I've never known a dragon to nest right in the middle of a town."

"These parts are peculiar,"

Jones replied.

"We got the dragon mess sorted, though, so it don't need murdering either."

That made the hunter bristle even more, and he strode across the warehouse to them, stopping half a dozen paces shy or so. Too close, if they were a threat. The hunter looked young, though, even younger now that he was closer.

He had light brown skin and russet micro curls trying to escape the knot he'd drawn them into. Like any good hunter, he had an assortment of weapons on him, from a gun at his left hip to all manner of arcana-laden jewelry. His eyes were amber, sparkling with banked arcana, so he must be more than a little proficient with it despite the fact they'd initially thought he wasn't much of anything. He was pretty, someone the girls would sigh over and the boys wouldn't know what to do with. His jeans fit him well, and he wore the heavy boots that seemed to be part of an informal hunter's uniform, along with the fitted t-shirt and leather jacket.

Not more than twenty-five though, from his flavor. Broadly an adult by human measure, but so very young in Bobby's eyes.

"I'm not a fucking mercenary, asshole,"

the hunter replied.

"I deal with problems, not people trying to exist. Why are you so—"

He stopped, eyes landing on Bobby, narrowing.

"What in the hell are you wearing?"

Bobby laughed.

"A collar, and it's none of your business."

He pushed the words, voice thrumming with the barest shred of power, just a small taste that encouraged the hunter to shrug and lose interest.

Human minds were easy to manipulate. Easy to break. Easy to put back together in all the wrong ways. It wasn't, however, his favorite thing to do. Well, it was if they deserved it, but humans that atrocious were actually pretty rare.

Also, going around freely manipulating minds made it hard for anyone to trust him, and he valued the trust of his little humans deeply.

"Sorry we all came out here for nothing,"

Jones replied.

"Where you staying the night, hunter?"

"That B&B with the, uh, interesting paint job."

Bobby snickered, and Jones sighed.

"Come on, then, glad this amounted to a whole lot of nothing."

Knowing Jones, he wouldn't rest easy until the hunter was well out of town.

"What's your name?"

Bobby asked.

The hunter eyed him warily, but said, "Alejandro Mendoza, and I swear to god if you say, 'but you don't look Mexican,' I will shoot you in the spleen."

Jones rolled his eyes.

"Let's go."

He led the way out of the warehouse. Normally he'd never put his back to a stranger, least of all a hunter, but Bobby had his back, and it put the hunter between them.

Alejandro whistled as they stepped outside.

"Nice car."

Jones preened as he always did.

"Thanks. Had her since the day she was first sold. Bought her for $3000. Where you parked?"

"In that pool of shadows,"

Bobby said, nodding toward the back wall of a dilapidated shed where to the naked eye there was a whole lot of nothing.

"How…"

Alejandro frowned.

"What in the hell are you?"

"Trouble,"

Jones drawled, "but nothing for you to worry on."

Rolling his eyes again, Alejandro clasped one of the amulets he wore and muttered something beneath his breath. A moment later, light flared, and where before there'd only been shadows there was now another car. From the way Jones gasped, it was a good one.

Just looked like any other car to Bobby.

"What's so special?"

"That's a 1968 Chevy Camaro Yenko/SC,"

Jones replied, eyes still on the car.

"Weren't many of them made. Where did a kid like you get one?"

"My grandpa bought it off the lot the day they went on sale. He got number eleven of two hundred one."

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"If you two are done fawning over your children, can we be going? I have mysteries to solve."

Jones snorted.

"Yeah, it's the mystery that's got you excited. Let's get going, then."

They headed out, Jones leading the way and Alejandro following until they came to an intersection at main street, where Alejandro peeled off right to go to his B&B. Moments later, Jones pulled into the parking spot right next to Bobby's truck.

"Try not to cause too much trouble, and keep your snacking to a minimum. It's real damn hard to explain things away when you don't leave no bodies."

Bobby grinned.

"Do my best, Sheriff. You and your sweetheart play nice while I'm gone."

"Get the fuck out of my car,"

Jones said, pale skin flushing pink.

"Sweetheart. I'd rather be turned into a human."

Laughing all the way, Bobby climbed out of Jones' car and into his own. He drove down to the market on the corner, grabbed up plenty of snacks, and finally headed home.

Though he researched and pondered as he'd told Harold he would, by the time morning came around he was long past ready to get going. He threw everything the truck and headed out while the sun was still thinking about rising.

As ever, he had ways of traveling that would go much faster than a six-hour drive, but what was the point of living amongst humans if he wasn't going to act like them? When in Rome and all that.

Putting his phone in its little holder on the dash, he hit the speed dial for Harold.

"Are you causing trouble already?"

Harold asked.

"Not yet. Anything new to add to my little mystery?"

"Nothing that's come my way. I'll keep you posted, but at this point you're more likely to learn it first."

"All right. I ran into your sheriff at the diner last night."

"He's not 'my' sheriff, asshole. What did he want?"

Bobby explained all that had transpired.

"Name Mendoza mean anything to you?"

"Sure as shit does. Mendoza is an old hunting family. Traditionally they worked in Central and South America, but some of the family immigrated to the US a couple of generations back, so I'm not surprised they're spreading across the States too. Good family from what I've heard, not a bunch of genuine psychopaths hellbent on justifying serial killing."

"Well, he's certainly made a new bestie in Jones, given how they were fawning over each other's cars."

"Good for them,"

Harold said, sounding completely and totally like he meant it, and not at all like he was jealous.

"Let me know when you arrive. I'll probably be in the woods catching the demon king of gym socks."

"Good luck,"

Bobby said, still snickering when he hung up.

He drove in silence—well, relative silence. No music, just the sounds of the car and the road and the sibilant whispers of the shadows and all that resided within and beneath them, in places no human could go and survive.

Half-listening to the whispers, snickering occasionally at the gossip, he enjoyed the dark and the drive and the slowly rising sun.

He also kept an eye on the cloaked car behind him, driven by a certain Mendoza. Following or same direction?

One way to find out.

Bobby drove until he reached an open area safe for two cars to pull over. Getting out of his truck, he went around and pulled down the tailgate before leaning against it. Just a couple of minutes later, Alejandro's fancy muscle car flickered and then solidified.

"Seriously, what are you?"

Alejandro asked as he climbed out of his car.

"I've been doing this since I was fourteen, and no one has ever been able to just see through that particular trick. Not even that sheriff, and he smells older than dirt. I even called my family, and none of them could think of anything either."

"I'm Bobby. Just Bobby. Not human and not something I like to discuss, but I'm not a threat to anyone. Even if I wanted to be, Harold made sure I can't."

Not really, because completely containing anything primordial was just short of impossible, but the collar made everyone feel better.

"Why are you following me, hunter?"

"You can use my name,"

Alejandro said in the tone of someone who'd had to say that more times than he wanted to count.

"I wasn't following you, not exactly. Since the dragon isn't a problem, I'm headed for a new job, and GPS pointed me this way. You've been going the same way the whole time."

"So why cloak yourself?"

Alejandro laughed.

"Habit. You've no idea how many things can sense hunters and always choose violence. For good reason, to be fair, a lot of hunters are bigoted assholes. Easier to just go unnoticed.

"So you're headed to Marsh, too?"

"Yes, which means the problem is well in hand, and you can run along somewhere else."

"The last time someone told me to 'run along' like I'm still ten years old, they got punched in the face."

Bobby laughed so loudly several lurking critters went running.

"I get the feeling you spend a whole lot of time in trouble and getting talking to's."

"Why do you think I'm on the opposite end of the country,"

Alejandro muttered, looking at nothing in particular. Turning his gaze back to Bobby, he said, "I'm not going anywhere except to Marsh, and not even a weirdo like you is gonna stop me."

He set his shoulders, chin jutting out slightly.

"We could just work together."

"I only work with Sheriff Jones and Harold."

"Who the fuck is Harold?"

"Harold Legrasse. He solves weird problems in the area. Something between a hunter and an arbitrator is the best way to describe it. He's also a witch."

"Legrasse?"

Alejandro's eyes shot up.

"That's an old name. Didn't expect to hear it around here. No one has seen or spoken to a Legrasse in years."

"Well, you can always turn around and go ask for his autograph,"

Bobby said.

"Nice try, and nothing doing, asshole,"

Alejandro retorted.

"Look, we can work together, or we can trip over each other the whole time. I'm a good partner, I promise."

Bobby dragged his hands down his face.

"I'm not making any sort of decision right here on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. Let's just get to Marsh, and then we'll decide. All right?"

"Fine,"

Alejandro said with a huff, and slammed the car door behind him before taking off in a cloud of dust.

Bobby sighed and climbed back into his truck, calling Jones as he headed off.

"Are you causing trouble already?"

Jones asked.

"That hunter is headed to Marsh like me, wants us to be partners."

"For the love of—"

Jones bit off with some curses that definitely were not in any language found in the Americas.

"It's a goddamn wonder to me that family is still around."

Curiosity coiled through Bobby.

"You know them? I called Harold about them, but he didn't know much."

Jones scoffed.

"Course he don't. Hunters don't give a damn about witches unless they start kidnapping and eating children, which is more of a European thing. The Mendoza family is old."

"Old as you?"

"Hush your damned mouth,"

Jones said, but couldn't keep all the amusement from his voice.

"You ain't got no room to be talking. Bit older, actually. They been working Central and South America since, oh, the twelve hundreds or so, I reckon. Folks down there call them the Jaguars, and for good reason. I been calling 'round about the kid. Seems he's recently struck out on his own. Something went down back west that the family is keeping hushed up, but it seems to be part of the reason he left. I can poke around a bit more if you want, though it'll take a bit."

"Yeah, do that, please. I didn't feel anything ominous from him, and there have been no whispers, but… it's still weird he'd want to partner with someone he doesn't know and whose non-human nature he can't identify. Don't know if I should keep him close, drive him off, or wipe his memory entirely."

Jones didn't say anything, but Bobby could practically feel him wincing. Eventually he said, "You're the best judge on that. I'll give you a holler when I know something."

"Thanks, talk to you later."

Bobby cast out his power, dipping into the shadows, into the dark, into the world beyond that humans—most beings—could not comprehend. A world of dead suns and dark stars, as terrible as it was beautiful. His eyes glowed like fireflies, and everything in the truck vibrated gently.

Even this deeper reach did not reveal anything insidious about Alejandro. In a world where it seemed like everyone had at least a little corruption in their souls, dirty little secrets waiting to be pried out and used against them… Alejandro had none. Of course he was only twenty-five. A child. Still, he was also a hunter, and hunters weren't known for keeping their innocence.

Except here was one. How intriguing.

Bobby thanked the primordial dark for its assistance and withdrew, eyes returning to normal, vibrations fading.

"What am I going to do with you, little hunter?"

Bobby asked softly.