Page 40 of The Huntress (The Blood of Legends #1)
Chapter Forty
PSEUDO-BATTLE
L eo scanned the battlefield from the hotel window, seeing every detail, planned or otherwise. The docks had been Callie’s suggestion. Her suckblood journey had involved witnessing the canister pass hands, and it seemed symbolic that the conclusion should occur here. The full moon cast light and shadows, but they’d repaired the floodlights so the officers and Carter could see the show. The sun teased the horizon, kissing the ocean’s edge with a splash of color.
This was a bad idea. There had been too much hatred for the pseudo-battle to play out without casualties. It was a full-out blood bath, trickles of it staining the tarred ground. The enticing scent of it reached him in his room, extending his teeth as if he hungered. Callie had gone from damsel-in-distress to huntress, knocking out shifters and vampires to spare their lives. Gabe protected her with more lethality, no matter the species.
Leo tuned out the gleeful reactions from Carter, which he could hear through the thin walls. The recordings would capture his incriminating words. Dimitri’s pal’tsy followed Callie’s example and neutralized large swathes of combatants. Blood had been spilled, and it was sacrosanct to both sides—sustenance versus lineage.
Syl and Rhys battled alongside each other as they fought to keep the new alliance strong. Metcalfe’s officers had arrived, but they hovered on the outskirts with weapons drawn, indecisive since this free-for-all wasn’t part of the plan. Their choice to remain on the sidelines was wise, for many a human would have died this night.
Leo conveyed his panoramic view to the key members, sharing where the chaotic nuclei were. Even including an absent Dimitri in the communication. The man had chosen to remain with George, trusting his pal’tsy to do as trained.
Dripping blood from their fingers or claws, and with their chests heaving, Syl faced Rhys. Callie leaned against Gabe, seeming content to remain so. Around them, bodies sprawled outward, resembling the petals of a flower.
“That didn’t go as planned,” Syl said to Rhys, who grunted in response. The sound was animalistic but its meaning understood. “Take your wounded and go.”
“I need to kill you first,” Rhys said. The words were discernible in his coarse voice, but Leo had read the thought before Rhys spoke it. “We can salvage this.”
“Ready,” Syl said.
Rhys roared, his jaw extending amid the bellow of a grizzly bear. His body contorted in jerks and spasms. The alpha’s pain lancing through Leo’s mind had him shutting off the connection. The massive brown bear stood on its hind legs, towering over Syl, who looked frail in comparison. It was an impressive sight.
Syl darted around the bear, his movements swift, blurring as he plunged a fake knife into the shifter’s thick fur. Rhys roared, twisting and turning until, with a swipe of a paw, he threw Syl back. He vaulted to his feet and faced the bear. With one sweep of his massive claws, Rhys ‘sliced’ Syl’s throat, and Syl instantly dissolved. A triumphant roar from the room next door told Leo that Carter had believed the deathblow. He followed this with a string of words dripping in hatred—how he’d deceived and sold his soul for this victory.
“Well done, my kings.” Leo sent the memory of Carter’s cheer to Rhys and Syl. One by one, vampires limped off the battleground, their performances believable as they forged a path through the stunned police.
Leo was grateful they’d at least remembered the instruction not to fly. They didn’t need to reveal all their abilities to the spectators. Shifters helping their wounded was symbolic of how they cared for each other. The ‘fallen’ vampires remained unattended and dissolved, mimicking Syl’s death.
Callie consoled a grieving Gabriel, his face switching between despair and fury. Rhys moved around his wounded, offering aid where needed. He was once again human but naked since shifters couldn’t manipulate the ether. His broad shoulders glimmered in the morning light, an easy target to follow.
The room’s door clicked open, and on silent feet, a pal’tsy approached Leo. Dressed as a waiter, his young face held deceptive innocence, which was why Dimitri had chosen him for this task.
“The audio files.” He placed the memory stick on the glass table.
Leo lowered himself into the leather chair he’d conjured. It was a replica of Callie’s, right down to the indented seat cushion. For Carter, the evening wasn’t over. The man intended to celebrate into the small hours of the night, no matter the state of his liver. Leo would keep him company, albeit separated by a wall. The information on the memory stick was enough to send the human to prison for a long time, but Leo wanted to continue recording, just to make sure they hadn’t missed something. Carter, in his drunken stupor, might reveal more of his nefarious deeds. Leo knew what lay in the man’s thoughts, but he needed Carter to reveal it in his own voice.
“The extended audios, I will deliver tomorrow,” the pal’tsy said.
“Thank you.” Leo summoned a snifter of cognac. The heady fragrance scented the air, and he pressed the glass to his lips. The pal’tsy slid out of the room, careful to close the door without making a sound.
I sense boredom.
Leo’s heart leaped into his throat, causing him to choke on the fiery, bitter liquid as it slid down.
Valerie . He thought no more. Her voice alone had such an effect on him, one he couldn’t fathom.
How did the ruse go? Even in his mind, her words were in her usual huskiness.
Well. But with bloodshed.
You cannot anticipate everything, Leonardo. Her insight had a frown forming on his lips. No wonder you’re bored. A life without surprises is a dull one.
His frown morphed into a smile. He loved it when she used his full name. She did so because he used hers, and that irritated her.
Coming home soon?
His breath hitched, and a tremor laid siege to his limbs. Home? The way his heart pounded made him realize she was correct. Anywhere with her was home.
In a while . He managed to convey this without the tumultuous emotions roiling within him.
Be careful.
Worried about me, princess?
She snorted, then silence smothered their connection, but not the smile still spreading his cheeks. He forced her out of his mind, not willing to distract himself with how their relationship could play out. He needed to sit her down and tell her how he felt, but he feared ruining their friendship, one he’d come to cherish.
Laughter pierced the walls—a bombastic bark from Carter and a woman’s trill. He scowled, not appreciating the time wasted as the senator got his kicks off. Leo would give them an hour, force them into a sleep, then fly home. He imagined sliding between Valerie’s sheets and curling his body around hers.
The idea consumed him many times during a day, but she hadn’t invited him to her bed, not by word, thought, or deed. He played out various scenarios, and all returned to one fact. He couldn’t wait any longer. Perhaps this was the night he revealed his intentions to the beautiful, enchanting Valerie.