Page 1 of The Vampire’s Hunter (Rogue Brotherhood #2)

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D ani Harper wasn’t certain how she’d found herself here, and yet…here she was. She stood frozen inside The Diner King, eyes locked on the familiar cowboy who made his way toward her with unwavering intent. Shit, this was unexpected, but she shouldn’t have been surprised.

She felt that way about a lot of things in her life—as if she’d somehow ended up there without intention or plan. But this time, watching her estranged brother waltz into the diner where she worked with all the prowl of one of the preternatural creatures he famously hunted, the feeling was harder to ignore.

“Goddamn it!” a sharp, aging voice bellowed to her right. “You flighty, dimwitted—”

Dani blinked, instantly wrenched back into the moment. To the sticky, fry-oil rent air of the diner. To the old bank pen and notepad tucked into the cornflower apron that squeezed her waist, and to the steaming, now overflowing ceramic mug spilling coffee onto the table in front of Mr. Dougherty.

A clearly pissed-off, human Mr. Dougherty.

“Shit.” She scrambled to right the coffee pot in her hand.

She was supposed to be taking Mr. Dougherty’s order, not speculating on whatever kind of supernatural trouble her brother’s unexpected arrival meant. Which since Mr. Dougherty was a regular—a very human regular, just like every other lost soul here—meant a boring coffee with two sugars, one cream, and then fetching his biscuits and gravy as fast as the kitchen could cook it, all before he yelled at her for being “slow” again.

Never mind that she usually served up orders faster than any other waitress on the midnight scheduling block and with a more genuine smile to boot. Escaping Mr. Dougherty’s ire was its own kind of skill, and from the moment she’d overpoured his coffee that ship had sailed faster than the menu’s fish and chips could send a person sailing to the restroom—which was undeniably and disgustingly fast.

Mr. Dougherty grumbled at her, the jowls of his cheeks wiggling in anger. “Why, you—”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Dougherty. Let me grab a towel,” she muttered quickly, before she scurried away from the table.

Depositing the coffee pot onto the hot plate, Dani snatched a spare bussing rag from the sink and grabbed a replacement saucer from the dish rack, prepared to head back to Mr. Dougherty, but a soft hand quickly stayed her arm.

“Isn’t that your brother?” Thelma piled three steaming orders of hashbrowns with a side of bacon onto one arm, before plopping a plated coney island covered in sloppy chili onto the other. She nodded to where Quinn now sat on the far side of the diner. Meanwhile, the smell of fried potato and chili invaded Dani’s nose.

Her brother was watching them, waiting for her. Because of course he was.

Dani’s nerves shot into overdrive.

“What?” she blinked at Thelma, still dazed from the Mr. Dougherty incident.

“I said, isn’t that your brother?” Thelma nodded toward the shadowed face beneath the Stetson.

Brow furrowed, Dani’s eyes shot between where her brother sat, and the veteran waitress who waited for her answer. Thelma didn’t exactly look like the type to know about shifters, vamps, and witches—the world’s supernatural underbelly. Most humans didn’t. But what did Dani know? She supposed someone could likely say the same of her.

Lifting a brow, Dani lowered her voice. “How did you—?”

Thelma smiled, batting Dani’s arm playfully, completely unaware of Dani’s insinuation. “You showed me an old picture of him once, remember?”

Dani blinked. Right. Thelma recognized Quinn for who he was to her, not the role he played. The role everyone else of any paranormal importance in her life knew her brother for. Figured . It was yet another sobering reminder that here in this small little town where she’d landed herself, she was alone in more ways than one. Burdened with a knowledge Thelma and her coworkers would never endure.

And yet…strangely nostalgic for the absence of everything she’d left behind.

“Yeah, I…I suppose I did, didn’t I?” She smiled weakly.

Thelma shook her head. “Well, what are you waiting for, sugar? You going to make him wait in that booth all day or are you going to go see him?”

Dani glanced toward where Mr. Dougherty was now cursing.

“Don’t you worry about that old curmudgeon.” Thelma nodded toward the regular. “I’ll take care of him.” She gave Dani a supportive wink as she gently tugged the wet rag away from her, somehow still managing to balance all her plates and trays.

“I suppose you’re right.” Dani nodded, wringing her hands. Clearly, she couldn’t avoid her brother forever. Even if she wanted to.

Slowly, she made her way over to the booth.

“Quinn,” she mumbled shyly.

“Dani.” Her brother’s voice was as gruff and hardened as she remembered. Pure cowboy.

No hint of the city slicker he could have been. He stood and pulled her into a brief hug.

“It’s been a while,” Dani said lamely, wiping her hands down the front of her apron.

For a moment, Quinn didn’t bother to say anything, just tilted that hat of his in acknowledgement.

An awkward silence passed between them. Tense and heavy. Full of all the things neither of them wanted to say.

“Why didn’t you come see me at the bar?” Dani asked, attempting to fill the quiet, though the constant clatter of forks against dishes, the sizzle of the diner’s griddle and Thelma’s usual hollering about why her other orders weren’t up yet sort of did the trick.

Quinn frowned. “I hear having a hunter around isn’t good for business,” he said, his mouth pressing into a thin line.

Dani nodded, tentatively sliding into the booth across from him.

It felt…strange sitting there with him, like when they were young and she’d adored him.

“I suppose Trixie told you to back off then?”

Quinn’s Stetson dipped low on his brow. “In not so kind of words.”

That sounded like Trixie alright—the bartending witch served as the proprietress and owner of the newest incarnation of the Midnight Coyote, a supernatural-only bar that’d recently relocated not too far outside Detroit. About an hour drive from middle-of-nowhere here.

On occasion when they were short-staffed, Dani sometimes worked there on the weekends, which meant she knew firsthand the magic-wielding bartendress was a force to reckoned with. Hell, Dani owed her life to Trixie, along with her partner, Malcolm. It hadn’t been that long ago that the other woman had saved her when she’d been unable to save herself, hands down, no questions asked. Dani could never be that strong willed, as much as she admired it. As much as she considered Trixie a friend.

“So, what brings you here then?” Dani forced a smile.

Quinn gave her an incredulous look. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Thelma showed up at their table a moment later, quickly setting down two mugs of steaming coffee, before Dani was forced to introduce Quinn. Thankfully, her brother was unusually polite to Thelma, accommodating the woman’s need for friendly small talk, until Thelma left them alone again.

Quinn turned his attention back toward her. “So, you’ve switched from vamps to witches, huh?”

Dani clutched the mug her coworker had given her like a lifeline. “Trixie’s been good to me. She’s…helped me out when I needed it.”

Unlike you.

She’d never dare say such a hurtful thing, but that didn’t stop her from thinking it.

Still, the unspoken words seemed to settle between them, heavy and present.

She couldn’t exactly blame her brother for not coming to her rescue. Lord knew they’d chosen different paths. He’d long ago become a renowned hunter for an elite clandestine organization of humans—the Execution Underground—the only protective force that stood between the predators of the supernatural world and humanity. And her, well…she drifted wherever the wind blew her, which was often into the arms of the wrong man, or vampire as it were, more than her elder brother would ever care for.

She was a wistful human nobody in a sea of powerful beings, as she’d been reminded more than once before, and Quinn wasn’t about to let her forget it.

“I heard you got yourself into some real trouble back in Billings,” Quinn said, cutting straight to the elephant in the room.

So, he’d heard.

Dani felt her ears turn red.

Of course, he’d heard. Him and everyone else under the sun. It was why she was here in this damn diner, after all. Apparently, it wasn’t enough to be made a fool of, to become a powerful vampire’s human plaything, drugged and taken advantage of like she was a pathetic human toy, but now everyone had to know about it. Her hurt, her shame. The supernatural community wasn’t large, and she stood out as one of the few humans in it.

“Yeah, well, that’s over now, isn’t it?” She forced another smile.

And I’m fine, thanks for asking. Not that anyone ever did.

“Is it?” Quinn lifted a brow.

Unshed tears prickled her eyes. This is exactly why she had no desire to talk to Quinn. Her brother had never approved of her life choices, even the ones she couldn’t control, which was why they hardly ever spoke. She couldn’t handle his constant judgement, so she’d just sort of…drifted away. Like she did with a lot of things. But that’s what happened when you came from a broken family, wasn’t it?

“Why are you here, Quinn?” she sighed.

Quinn leaned back in the booth, propping his arms over the cracked vinyl seat. “Can’t a man check up on his baby sister without getting the third degree?”

She lowered her eyes, instantly ashamed. Her brother had never been unkind to her, even if she didn’t care for his protective instincts. “I’m sorry. It’s just…I…wasn’t expecting you. That’s all.”

When she glanced back, Quinn’s gaze seemed to have softened then. However, briefly. Like how he’d looked at her when they’d been children. Before she’d been a disappointment to him. Back when it’d been them against the world, and before he’d stopped fighting her battles for her.

“How are you, Dani? Really?”

She gave a little shrug. “Good as I’ll ever be.”

Quinn didn’t respond.

Dani shook her head. “You know how it is. I’ve got a job now. Two, actually. Though I’m getting fewer hours at the bar these days, but I’m making my own rent, barely. Waitressing gives me enough to keep food on the table, and you know, that’s about all I could ask for really.”

Quinn grunted his disagreement. “And why here?” He gestured to the diner around them. To all the humans in it.

Like them and yet, somehow, different. Neither of them would ever be one among them.

Not with the knowledge they’d been forced to carry since she’d been barely more than girl, and Quinn barely a man.

Back then, her brother had been her anchor, though he’d been just as orphaned as she’d been, thrust into a knowledge of a supernatural world neither of them had ever wanted a part of.

Now, things were different.

For a moment, Dani wasn’t certain how to answer.

How had she ended up here?

However, it’d happened, it was better than before, that’s for certain. Better than when she’d been trapped under Cillian’s thumb, unable to escape, and yet…

“Trixie thought it’d be better if I stepped away from the community for a bit,” she said, lowering her voice. As if speaking in whispers could somehow hide her shame.

“ Trixie thought it’d be better?” Quinn lifted a brow as if to say, But not you?

Dani winced. That was the thing about her brother, he’d always seen straight to the heart of her. She’d once liked that. When exactly had he started judging her for it?

“We both decided, I guess?” She shrugged a shoulder.

Quinn didn’t appear convinced.

Dani huffed again. “Did you come here to just point out all the ways I’ve disappointed you, Quinn, or are you here for a reason?”

Quinn’s eyes widened, like he was surprised at how uncharacteristically confrontational she was being. “I don’t think you’re a disappointment, Dani. I just think you deserve better. I wish you thought you deserved better, that’s all.”

And there it was.

Dani couldn’t help it. She was crying now. No longer able to hold back her tears.

She swiped at them with the back of her hand, but there was no stop to it. The floodgates had opened. “And you came here just to tell me that?” She sniffled.

“No.” Quinn shook his head.

The tears came faster then, silent but steady.

Of course she’d known that. She’d known from the moment he’d walked into the diner that she wasn’t the reason he was here, and yet, she’d still allowed herself to believe otherwise, to hope that someone was finally here to save her, to give her the home base she’d been searching for since long before either of them had ever been orphaned. Their parents had never exactly been kind before their deaths, but still, she’d been dumb enough to trust Quinn when he said he was here to check up on her.

That had always been her problem, hadn’t it? She was too trusting. Too na?ve. Everyone said so. She’d let herself be taken advantage of time and time again.

But where was that same ire for those who’d taken advantage of her, for those who’d hurt her? For all the men, the vampires and otherwise who’d made a fool of her all because she had a kind heart that they’d found easy to exploit? Where was the distaste for them ?

Quinn shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unused to her tears. “We need your help.”

“We,” she repeated knowingly, having to suppress a gurgling, unamused laugh.

“The Execution Underground,” Quinn elaborated.

She knew exactly who “we” meant, but her brother answered as if she’d asked a question. No surprise there. She knew without a doubt everyone believed she wasn’t smart. Na?ve. Flighty. Dimwitted. Just like Mr. Dougherty had said. Men were always talking down to her. Hell, women too. Always assuming she didn’t know. And why bother to correct them?

There was little point to it.

She’d lost that fight long ago, before it’d ever really started.

People saw a pretty face, a kind heart, and a forgiving nature wrapped up in a scared, damaged soul and they made assumptions. They always did. She was both Madonna and whore.

“What could the Execution Underground possibly want with me?”

Quinn reached inside his jacket and pulled out a photo, sliding it across the table toward her.

For a beat, Dani simply stared at the blank backing, until finally she couldn’t stop herself from flipping it over and examining the handsome silhouette beneath. Immediately, her heart plunged to her feet, taking her stomach along with it. No.

No, no, no, no. Anyone but him.

“What do you want with him?” she heard herself whisper before she’d even fully registered the question.

Quinn lifted an impatient brow, pointing to the photo of the devilishly handsome vampire. “You know as well as I do Corbin’s involved with the Cosa della notte syndicate.”

Dani shook her head, refusing to answer. “I don’t have anything to say to you about that.”

The Cosa della notte was the vampire equivalent of the human mafia. Its members ruthless. The worst of which treated humans like her as if they were little more than cattle.

And yes, she knew without a doubt that Corbin was involved in it, though he’d never been anything but dazzlingly kind to her. Cillian had been too, though, before Trixie and Malcolm had saved her from him, from herself, and from the abuse she’d gotten herself tangled into.

They’d left the ancient bloodsucker for dead on the floor of Corbin’s club.

No, Corbin Blackwell, the Blood Rose’s owner, a charming British vampire who was entirely too much of a smooth talker that he always got his way, may have broken her heart years ago without even knowing it, but that didn’t mean she was going to rat him out. Not like this. From what Trixie had told her, Corbin had played a key part in getting her away from Cillian, in ending the abusive relationship she’d been stuck in, and for that, she’d be forever grateful to him.

No matter how much the sight of him made her chest ache.

Unwillingly, her hand flitted to the pocket of her apron, to the skeleton key she kept on a necklace chain hidden under her clothes. A reminder that she was stronger than she believed herself to be.

Like how she’d once thought she could feel whenever Corbin had captured her with that all too entrancing gaze, though she knew better now. The ancient British vampire would never be so sentimental as to gift anything of meaning to her. She wasn’t that important to him, even if he’d been kind to her now and again. She was just someone worthy of his pity, that’s all.

Before Dani knew what was happening, her brother was talking again, lobbing words at her that when strung together in her mind didn’t make any sense—words like duty, and bravery, and justice—things she’d only ever experienced on T.V. or in the overpowering shadow of her brother’s presence.

“We believe he may have insight into Lucien’s whereabouts.”

Immediately, Dani’s blood ran cold. Vague drug-hazed memories of harsh hands and even sharper fangs assaulted her, holding her down. It hadn’t been enough for Cillian to hurt her again and again, but then he’d been certain to share her with his fucked-up friends, though not Corbin, of course. He hadn’t been among them.

Dani was trembling before she’d even realized the memory had overtaken her.

Quinn reached out and touched her hand, bringing her back to herself and causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

Her brother’s gaze softened then, and this time, it stayed that way.

Which somehow only made it worse.

“We need someone who will blend in. Someone whose been a part of that world and—”

“And everyone knows I’m nothing more than a fanger whore,” she finished for him.

Quinn’s shoulders stiffened, making him look unexpectedly tense, and to her surprise, ashamed. He chose his next words carefully. “I was going to say everyone knows that you’ve been involved with vampires in the syndicate before.”

“Same thing, just prettier words.” She swiped at her tears again.

Quinn sighed, clearly recognizing this was a battle he wouldn’t win. “I know you think I’m here for them, but Dani,” he gripped her hand, “I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t believe you could do this. If I didn’t think that you might want—”

“Revenge?” she finished.

“Yes,” Quinn answered, more confident than she’d given him credit for. “To make sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else again.”

The prick of his words was like a knife to the heart.

“That’s not my responsibility,” she breathed.

Quinn nodded. “You’re right. It isn’t.”

And yet…

Here he was. Asking it of her anyway.

Because for once, in some small way, her brother believed she could be like him.

That she could be brave. That she could fight for someone else, if not for herself.

Dani let out a small shivering sigh of resignation. She’d known whatever Quinn was here to ask her to do, she would agree. It didn’t matter if that was what she really wanted or not, because that was what Dani always did.

She endured, and thus, she survived. Wherever the wind blew her.

And this time, it was leading her straight into the arms of a vampire who’d no doubt break her heart.

“What do I need to do?”