Page 7 of The Huntress (The Blood of Legends #1)

Chapter Seven

CHECKING IN

“L eo, I’m pissed…pissed enough to rip her fuckin’ head off.”

Leo winced at Syl’s words coming through his cell. What happened? He glanced around the crowded hall, keeping his mind ajar for insidious thoughts.

“Your detective took it. Moon above, she’s good.”

Warmth flooded Leo’s chest, and he smiled. “You didn’t kill her?” Leo’s voice darkened.

If Syl had, he didn’t know how he’d react. The tension across his shoulder implied something lethal.

“No…I didn’t, but I need to get my property back. If she fights me, I’ll hurt her…just a little. That will teach her not to take what doesn’t belong to her.” The call ended on Syl’s chuckle, as if he relished a skirmish with a human.

Leo grumbled, not liking that. Casting instructions at the guards, he threw caution to the wind, bolted out of the hall, and launched himself skyward. Molding the wind to his bidding, it propelled him to his destination. The air flitted by him, and the sense of freedom that only flying could offer him filled his entire being. When he arrived at her apartment, her unlit windows announced she wasn’t home yet.

After landing on her balcony, he manipulated matter to unlock and open her sliding door, then meandered around her sparse apartment. Essentials dotted the room. A large brown leather-bound chair called to him, and as he ran his fingers across its back, he assessed the seat indented with the shape of her backside. He lowered himself into it to study the view. No television, no entertainment system, only a bookshelf filled with vampiric romance novels, weapon instruction manuals, and books on biochemistry. No pictures adorned her walls, no dust-collecting mementos. He bolted out of the chair and slipped into her bedroom. The scent of her lingered. He paused to inhale. It wasn’t enough to saturate his senses, but it would do. She’d made her bed crisp, almost military—the sheets in dark blues and grays with a single cream-colored stuffed teddy bear nestling against the pillows. It was the softest thing in the room. The evening gown from last night draped over a chair in the corner. Her heels peeked out from under the dress’s fabric pooling on the tiled floor.

He approached the nightstand that held a compact alarm. All seemed innocent, but this was Callista. He lifted the pillow and broke into a bright smile. A dagger rested there. He sniffed and buried his face in her pillow, inhaling again.

What was it about her scent? Her sensuality aroused him, and her strength of will was sheer poetry.

He replaced her pillow and wandered back to her brown chair to slide into it, prepared to await her return. His phone vibrated, and he frowned at the caller ID.

“I have it.” Syl’s voice came through, his excitement clear.

Leo tensed. “Callista?”

“Unharmed.”

An eager tone to Syl’s voice made Leo wary. What solidified Syl’s reign was his ability to inflict pain in such a way the victim begged to die. He found their weaknesses. Few were aware of this particular trait of his, but knowing secrets was Leo’s forte.

“She has a sister,” Syl said.

“Valerie,” Leo said, having received that information hours ago. He planned to visit her tomorrow to find out why her scent made his blood sing.

“She’s dying. I convinced her to attend the festival.” Syl chuckled, a pleased-with-himself sound Leo recognized. “ If she survives, she’ll be an excellent addition to our family.”

Leo scowled. Oh, she’d survive. He’d make certain of it . “But if she doesn’t?”

“She won’t suffer anymore.” Syl’s logic was sound.

Though his points were valid, Leo suspected Callista wouldn’t agree. Moon above, he didn’t agree.

“Where are you?” Syl asked.

“Running an errand. I needed fresh air.”

“Don’t be long. The trials must start.” Syl’s clipped tones conveyed his impatience.

“You know who is fully vetted and chosen so start the trials now.” Leo tamped down the hope the results would be conclusive. He knew better than to allow hope free reign.

As footsteps approached, his pulse leaped with unexpected excitement. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Enjoy.” Syl’s wicked smile was discernible across the connection.

Leo slid his phone into his jacket pocket and waited. Callista entered her apartment, shutting the door behind her before bolting it. While running her hands over her body, her movements were methodical, hypnotic. She placed her weaponry in a precise arrangement on the kitchen counter. After unraveling her braided hair, she bent to undo her boots. They squelched as she did so.

“Damn suckbloods,” she muttered. “I’m talking to you, Leo.” She rose to face him, shook her head, then slipped into her bedroom.

How had she known he was there? He hadn’t made a sound. Had held his breath the entire time.

She banged around her room. A whisper of fabric and the soft fall of her footsteps came before she returned with a brush in her hand.

“Your sire said the future was in the canister. What’s inside? Can you at least give me a straight answer?” She ran the bristles through her locks in slow, practiced strokes.

Leo shifted his attention to her gray tights and baggy T-shirt, baring a smooth shoulder. She was beautiful. He wondered if Valerie had the same features. He sucked in a deep breath, catching their combined scents.

“He didn’t sire me, and his name is Sylvester. The canister holds some sort of chemical.”

“Shit. A weapon?”

Great. I assumed it contained a chemical. No wonder I couldn’t shake it. I sure hope I haven’t allowed a maniac full access to a biochemical weapon—capable of untold violence. Perhaps even catastrophic? I would so lose my badge over that.

He chuckled, for once reading her thoughts before the gates to her mind sealed shut. He slid the brush out of her hand to run it through her locks, his hand stroking behind the brush’s path. “It’s not a weapon. Why would we jeopardize our harvest?”

“Good point.” Her shoulders slumped, exhaustion pounding at her, tightening her shoulders.

“I smell Valerie on you again,” he said.

“I saw her earlier with Sylvester . Do you smell the chemo medication on her? She used to smell like strawberries on a rainy day.”

“I’m sorry, Callista.” Leo handed her the brush.

She shrugged, but it was stiff, revealing her anger, vulnerability, helplessness. Using his other senses was incredible, not relying on his telepathy for every assessment. Although, he suspected the novelty of it would wear thin.

“The cancer’s killing her. You know, she’s tempted to throw herself in with your stupid suck-fests. I can’t blame her if she does. I’m not ready…to lose her now.”

“We all have to die, Callista.” He winced as he said it, wishing he could console her in some way.

“Says the ancient vampire?” She stepped away from him. “You can call me Callie. Planning on staying long, or are you done stalking me?”

“Stalking?”

“You’re in my apartment without invitation, and you’ve had me investigated. You could’ve just asked, Leo.” She stomped to her kitchen, slamming cupboards as she searched for something. “You’re probably the reason your Sylvester found me at Val’s. Did I thank you for that?”

“You took his canister, Callie.” Leo gripped the counter, slowing his heartbeat to listen in on her thoughts…nothing. Her mind remained sealed. Was she aware she could do this?

“Now it’s my fault your asshat king is having clandestine meetings in my neighborhood? Shit, you suckbloods sure are arrogant.”

“Suckbloods?” His lips twitched, and before he could stop himself, he chuckled. “What’s wrong with the word vampire ?” he asked, a smile lingering in his voice. He allowed it—for once not having to guard every reaction or expression he made.

“Vampires are so sexy. Like, I’ve-gotta-bag-me-one-of-those-totes-hot babes,” Callie said, mimicking a schoolgirl’s speech patterns. “I’ve seen your kind kill, hunt, and feed, Leo, as I’ve seen my kind do the same…Well, maybe not the blood drinking. But who knows? Weird things happen all the time.” She opened a new bottle of scotch and poured a healthy portion into a chipped coffee mug before downing it. “I’m tired, disappointed, and overall miserable, so if there’s a point to you being here…can you get to it?”

“How do you resist my pheromones?”

“That’s the question you’re here to ask me? I guess I should be happy you’re not here to kill me.” She placed the mug in the sink and stashed the closed bottle in a cupboard she hadn’t found it in. “I just can. They say officers have undergone extensive training since the Great Reveal, but that’s bullshit. We can’t resist your kind. They hypnotize us into believing we can. Such arrogance. Many on our force have died under that misapprehension.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You know this how?”

“Val and I don’t do well with hypnotism. Found out during her college days. I faked the going under part when it came to my turn. Wasn’t hard.”

“What were you doing on the ledge?”

She grimaced. “I snuck into the Duhamel’s ball to investigate a few men. Thanks for covering for me. The next day, Captain chewed me out for taking you to the floor. Sorry about that. Oh, and I may have implied…just a little, that you touched me indecently. Oops.” She headed for her front door, unbolted, then opened it, her expectation clear.

Leo grinned, pleased by her behavior and indifference to him. He couldn’t recall the last time a woman had kicked him out. This was a new experience, and it felt human, as if life-giving blood pumped through his veins. Or it was the way she treated him, like he was a person and didn’t fear him.

“Very well, Callie. I bid you goodnight.” He strolled through the door and turned at the threshold to meet her tired-eye gaze.

“Night will do. There wasn’t anything good about it.” She slammed the door in his face.

He laughed, shaking his head as he meandered out of her apartment block and onto the moon-swathed street. Taking to flight, he was too energized to return to the Hold. He found himself knocking on a cellar door in a field in the middle of nowhere.

“Leo?” Gabriel banged his door open and revealed his displeasure at the intrusion. He grunted and gestured to Leo to enter. “Coffee?”

“Something stronger, because moon above, do I have a story to tell you.”

Leo had unburdened the Callista saga—his perceptions, his unexpected emotions, everything—onto Gabriel’s wise and capable shoulders.

“Intriguing.” He swirled his brandy in his tumbler.

The glint of amber caught Leo’s eye, so he raised his own glass to his lips. It always looked better than it tasted. He could recall, before he converted, how sweet, smoky, and intense brandy had been on his tongue. Now, only bitterness burned a path down his throat to pool in his belly.

“You say she’s beautiful?”

“Yes. A wealth of auburn locks. I wish you could read my mind, Gabriel.”

“It’s her sister’s scent you find addictive?”

“Yes, like a spicy fragrance luring me. It tugs here.” Leo tapped his chest, wishing he could describe the strange sensation.

Gabriel nodded as if understood where Leo didn’t. “Have you sought her out? I suppose not, unless you have and aren’t sharing the encounter with me?”

“No, I haven’t had a chance. Too late to prevent the fondness from forming for Callie though. Dawn’s near, so it will have to wait until after the festival.”

“Oh, yes…that cursed festival. Thanks for the reminder.” Gabriel downed his brandy with a grimace.

“I suspect Valerie might be participating. If Callie hears about it…” Leo chuckled. “Now that would be entertaining. I can’t get over that she kicked me out.” He threw a smirk at Gabriel. “It felt…good.”

“I can imagine.” A smile twitched Gabriel’s lips but didn’t fully form.

Leo couldn’t recall the last time his friend had been happy. “Next time I visit either of the Devereaux sisters, you will be accompanying me. For the entertainment value, of course.”

“Will I?” Gabriel arched a brow, but there was a stubborn tilt to his chin.

“You owe me, so I’m calling in the favor.”

“Over this? It’s a waste of a favor, but I accept. I was more concerned you’d ask me to challenge for the right to rule.”

“I know.” Leo vanished his glass to the ether from whence he’d summoned it, the magic taking no more than mere thought. He had long since learned this power like all young vamps did.

After saluting Gabriel with two fingers to his forehead, Leo dissolved into molecules, easily carried on gentle breezes. This unique gift wasn’t as quick to learn. Some vampires never mastered it, but he was powerful.

He sped across the planes and into the Hold to reform in his chambers. With a flick of a finger, the lamps lit, and the fire blazed in the hearth. He ran a palm over his chest and met smooth skin, vanishing his suit as he readied for bed. A smile lingered when he slid between crisp, sun-kissed Egyptian cotton sheets.

A good day. The best he’d had in a while.