Hunted By The Others (18 page)

“Then I’m sure you’ve seen that they wear a different type of diving suit, one that’s meant to keep the sharks from taking a bite out of them. Same principle with this, only a tighter weave and different material. It’s a bit more flexible, too. Feel it, tug at it, you’ll see what I mean.”

Miniature chainmail? I reached out to finger the sleeve of the sweater-looking part, getting the feel of it. It was pretty thick, and I could feel another layer of something hard but somewhat flexible underneath the slick, silk-like black cloth. I did as he suggested, taking part of the sleeve in each hand and tugging at it to see how much it gave. It barely stretched, and I kept pulling as hard as I could until I was reasonably reassured that he was right—the material wouldn’t tear easily. Feeling a little uneasy still, I gestured at the case of knives and swords a little farther down.

“What about something sharp? Will it stop those?”

He shook his head. “Depends. This isn’t meant to stop bullets or knives, it’s meant to slow down or stop an Other from being able to claw at or bite the protected areas. If they slash at you with claws or a knife, it should protect you. With the strength of an Other behind a knife stab? Probably won’t save you. They won’t be able to bite through, though, and I believe that’s what you were most worried about, yes?”

Considering the vamp and Were viruses were usually transmitted through bites, yes, it was. I nodded, trying not to feel sick with worry and not succeeding well at all. He gathered up the clothing and guns, taking everything over to the register to ring it up. I reached for my purse, cringing internally at how much this would probably cost me. Arnold put a staying hand on my arm and stepped forward with a thick bundle of cash, handing Jack a few bills off the top. I glanced at him in surprise, and he answered me with a sly grin.

“Call it a bonus. The Circle owes you for this.”

Jack placed the cash in the register and handed a handwritten receipt over to Arnold. He placed the guns in small wooden cases lined with red cloth, along with a clip for each. Then he threw that, more ammo, and a shoulder holster for an easy cross-draw along with a little tissue paper on top into a plain white paper bag on top of the neatly refolded clothes, handing it over to me. Once I took the handles, he walked us over to the door leading back to the storage area. He gave me a grim half-smile and spoke a few cryptic words before shutting and bolting the door behind us.

“Pleasure doing business with you. Glad to see you made the right choice.”

I glanced at Arnold as we started up the rickety stairs. “Any idea what that was about?”

He shrugged in an uninterested way. “No. Maybe he just meant you picked a good gun or something.”

We left and headed for his car. While he unlocked the doors, I peered into the bag, poking through the boxes to take a closer look at the clothes beneath, hoping they would fit. Then I slid into the leather seat and fiddled with the radio. Since the day was fairly warm, he put the top down, then slapped my hand away from the knobs and tuned to a preset station playing some kind of techno rock.

“Let’s hit the mall, get you a jacket, then grab some food and head on back to Sara’s.”

He eased the car into traffic. I tilted my head back against the headrest, closing my eyes and just trying to enjoy the fact that I was in a convertible with a reasonably good-looking guy who’d just paid for a bunch of stuff that would probably help save my life.

All I could think about was that, in less than eight hours, I would have to face Royce and put those signed, notarized papers in his hands.

Chapter 25

It didn’t take long to find a suitable jacket in the mall. I needed something that would hide the weaponry well enough for me to get my foot in the door and, hopefully, add a little protection while still allowing for freedom of movement. Especially when it came time to draw down, if it came to that.

One of the stores actually had a nice selection of leather trench coats, and I was lucky enough to find an ankle-length black one in my size. I also swung by the shoe store and bought some combat boots. I didn’t normally wear those, but they seemed suitably badass and like they would fit with the jacket and the clothes and the guns. I think. Come on, I’ve never seen a fashion guide that tells you how to accessorize your shoes with your stakes and guns, have you?

We picked up a pizza and sodas on the way back to Sara’s. Once Arnold had parked at Sara’s place and I started to get out, he put a hand on my arm. I paused with one foot resting on the curb.

“Is Sara single?”

I blinked. That was unexpected. “Maybe. She mentioned something yesterday about this cop she’d been seeing. They’re usually on and off. I thought they were off but now I guess they’re on again.”

He nodded before getting out of the car. I watched him for a moment, trying to decide if he was asking me for security reasons or something more personal. Since Veronica was out of the picture, I wondered if that was why he was suddenly interested, and I felt an irrational twinge of jealousy.

Whatever, it wasn’t my problem and he was
not
my type. I don’t knowingly date Others. Not after what happened with Chaz. I hadn’t particularly gone out of my way
not
to before, but I wasn’t one of those thrill seekers that spent all my free time at the bars and restaurants frequented by the local supernaturals either. Plus, even the thought of being contracted gives me the willies. The extent of my experience with Others has led me to believe that the majority of them are deceptive, conniving, and occasionally violent assholes. No offense to any assholes out there.

I held the dogs back while Arnold hustled inside with the food and shopping bags. They barked up a storm as usual and tried to squeeze past me when I hopped up the porch steps and ducked inside.

Sara had set out the pizza and soda, and we all grabbed paper plates, poured some drinks, and settled around the kitchen table. Arnold watched Sara and me with an odd expression as we folded our pizza slices in half before eating them. After a minute or two of this, Sara grinned at him. “What, you’ve never eaten pizza with a New Yorker before?”

I picked a piece of pepperoni off my slice, popping it in my mouth before turning to Sara. “Are you going to use the rabbit ears or should I just carry my cell with me tonight?”

She shrugged, getting up to grab the garlic salt from one of the cabinets. “Probably just your cell. We don’t know what Royce can and can’t hear or sense, so it might be best if you limit the electronics. Just make sure you have me set in your speed dial this time.”

I nodded sheepishly, and Arnold looked mystified. “Rabbit ears?”

“Yeah. Just a nickname for a bug we wear when we speak to someone and think the conversation may require recording or turn ugly. It lets someone else listen in, and that’s mostly what we use it for, in case we need someone to bail us out in a hurry.”

“Ah.”

“What?”

“We use similar tactics at The Circle, except we use charms or familiars, not electronics.”

Oh, that was comforting. At my sudden wary look, he laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry, none were used with you except during your initial meeting with Veronica.”

He took a big bite out of the pizza, all too cheerful about that. It gave me the willies, which decreased my appetite, though not enough to stop me from finishing off the slice I was working on.

“Hey, Shia, no luck on the Borowsky kid,” Sara said. “All I got was a tip from one of his friends that he’s into the Goth and vamp scene, way more than his parents knew. Nothing surprising, nothing helpful. Anyway, you’ve got a few hours ’til sundown. Do you know what you want to do for the rest of the day?”

“Hiding under a rock somewhere sounds good to me.”

Arnold nudged the bags beside the table with his foot. “You should probably put everything on and practice moving in it. If it’s been a while, I’d suggest taking a few practice shots with the gun, too.”

“You really think I’m going to need to use it?” I felt the blood drain from my face. God, I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

His lips curved downward, gaze sliding away from mine. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

Well, worrying about it hadn’t helped anything yet. I resolved to start thinking about what I
could
do instead of how everything could go wrong. At the very least, I could do what he said and try on the clothes, get used to moving in them, and make sure the whole ensemble wouldn’t look too ridiculous when I showed up at Royce’s office.

Wiping my greasy fingers on a crumpled napkin, I got up and gathered the bags, belt, and vial of Amber Kiss perfume.

“I’m heading upstairs to change. Be back in a few minutes.”

They both gave me the thumbs-up, munching on their pizza. I wasn’t hungry, but I’d probably make myself eat another piece later when I was feeling a little more secure. Like after I had some stakes and guns on my person.

It took a minute for me to pull on the new clothes. At first, the turtleneck shirt and pants seemed uncomfortably tight. You could see the slightest bump under the shirt where the charm necklace that let me see through vamp and magi illusions rested against my skin, plastered in my cleavage. I hadn’t removed it since the meeting with Royce, and wasn’t planning on willingly taking it off for as long as I lived.

The shirt covered almost my whole neck, but I noticed that the slick material made it difficult to slide my fingers under it and yank it down lower. After getting over the initial irritation, I realized this was a good thing. It meant Royce would also have a tough time pulling it down enough to reach anything vital. Same with the wrists and ankles, though the pants were just a touch too long and I had to figure out a way to fold the material under so it wouldn’t bunch up in the shoes and irritate my skin.

I took a little time to stretch, reaching down to touch the floor, squat, split, and basically just make sure my freedom of movement wouldn’t be too restricted. Thankfully, the stuff clung like a second skin and wasn’t so stiff that I lost any flexibility. The burning ache in my muscles was a reminder that I’d missed my normal exercise over the weekend and would have to figure out some time to make it up—if I survived tonight’s ordeal.

With the pants tucked into my new combat boots and the silver cross at my neck gleaming against the flat black of the shirt, I had to admit as I examined myself in the full-length mirror, that I did indeed look the part of a vampire hunter. Or maybe a thief. Or a Goth? Yeah, I didn’t like where this train of thought was going.

The shoulder holster was next. I had to fiddle with the straps to adjust them. Then readjust them when I realized I had put it on wrong. Then fiddle with and adjust it a little more so it didn’t dig into my boobs quite so much. What a pain. It would make for an easy cross-draw, though, and the weapons wouldn’t be too conspicuous under the jacket.

The belt came last. I stared at it for a minute, laid out on the guest bed, looking utterly innocuous except for the big-ass silver stakes in their sheaths on one side. The trio of silver stakes had leather grips, worn and stained a dull gray from the sweat of many palms. The belt itself was a dull black that hadn’t yet been bleached by time. On the inside, where it would lay against cloth or skin, I knew it had glyphs branded into it, though I didn’t understand what they were for or what they meant. Putting it on meant it would adhere to me until the next sunrise. It meant I would be knowingly, willingly dipping my fingers into a magic melting pot.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I reached out a trembling hand, praying that the choices I’d made were right and that this thing really would help see me through ’til tomorrow’s sunrise.

Chapter 26

There was no flash of light, crackle of magic, or thunder of epic orchestral music from an unseen band in the background when I put the belt on. I half expected something, maybe even just
feeling
a little different.

Absolutely nothing changed once I settled it around my waist, adjusting it so the buckle and a couple of clips of extra rounds hung off one hip and the stakes off the other. I was both relieved and a little disappointed.

If not for the stakes, the outfit wouldn’t look half-bad. A little dark for my taste, definitely not something to wear around the office, but to a club? Maybe. I tied my hair back in a loose ponytail to make sure it would stay out of my face. Then I picked up the duster, figuring I might as well give it a try though it was too hot to wear for long and I certainly wasn’t interested in parading around the house like I’d just stepped off the set of the latest sci-fi action movie.

I reached into the bag and pulled out the pair of wooden boxes that held the guns so I could holster them and see how they “fit” with the outfit. When I lifted the lid of one of the boxes, the first thing that caught my eye was something gleaming white against the red velvet lining.

It was a pin of a tiny white cowboy hat. A White Hat pin. The symbol of their little clique of vigilante vampire and Were hunters.

I stared at it for a minute, trying to figure out why in God’s name it would even be there. The guy, Jack, must have slipped it into the box while he was putting the guns away.

Suddenly I recalled where I had seen him before. The bastard looked a bit different in plain clothes and under bright lights where I could see his features clearly. He was the one who had politely let himself into my bedroom to “ask” me to join the White Hat cause—at knifepoint.