2
The house sat at the end of a long, sloping driveway. It couldn’t be seen from the road. Trees lined the property, obscuring the house no matter which way you came at it. Only the driveway gave any indication that anyone lived up there.
It was home.
The house had been built before the Uprising, but not so long ago to make it old. It looked like any other house on any other street, but there were subtle differences that a normal house wouldn’t have.
For one, there were secret compartments near all the doors where the keys were kept. I refused to take keys with me wherever I went, knowing that if I were to be captured, someone might eventually find the lock in which the key fit. I couldn’t let that happen. Not again.
Also, instead of the single basement most houses sported, my place had a second, soundproofed basement. It was the only room in the house to which I didn’t have a key. It was Ethan’s domain, his laboratory, if you will.
Ethan did everything down there. He modified my Glock, as well as my Honda. He crafted my sword, my knives. He pretty much made sure I had everything I could ever want when it came to vampire and werewolf hunting.
I pulled into the attached garage and shut off my motorcycle. The night fell instantly silent. The closest house was a good two miles away. I could scream all I wanted here and no one would hear me, which was just the way I liked it.
I was glad to be home. I was mentally exhausted, a common side effect from my work. I had been planning the takedown of House Paltori for a good three weeks before I actually was ready to go through with it. Even then, things had gone terribly wrong far too fast. I should have taken Paltori down first, but one of his lackey’s had gotten in the way and the Count had been able to avoid me.
At least until the end.
But I made it out alive, killing Count Paltori and all his wolves and vamps in the process. That was all that mattered in the long run. They wouldn’t hurt anybody ever again.
The door leading from the garage into the house was locked. I lifted the light switch, box and all, and inside was the key to the side door. I unlocked the door, replaced the key, and headed inside my sanctuary.
All the lights were off inside, which wasn’t too surprising. Although I shared my home with Ethan, he tended to spend most of his time in his lab, working. He was the only friend I really had. I had saved him from becoming vampire food years ago and he just sort of stuck with me. I liked having him around, even if he was a Pureblood.
I didn’t need light to see by, but I flipped on the kitchen light anyway. It was close to dawn and Ethan would soon be making his way upstairs for bed. He, like me, preferred the night to do his work. I’m not sure if it was a product of living with a night-walking vampire, or if he just preferred the stars over the sun. Either way, it was his cycle, and I kind of liked having someone around the house when I was up and prowling.
“I’m home,” I hollered just in case Ethan had called it an early night. I wasn’t sure what he did down in the lab when he wasn’t working on my gear. There was only so much he could do, especially when I was between kill runs and he had nothing to work on.
I didn’t press him, however. What he did on his own time was his business. I wouldn’t want him to know everything I did in my private time, so I had to respect his.
I shrugged out of my coat and tossed it onto the back of a dining room chair. My gun and shoulder holster hit the table next. My back was sore and my hands were still stinging from the impact of Paltori’s blade meeting mine. All I wanted was a good soak in the bath to wash both the blood and the exhaustion from my body.
I headed for the stairs, removing my belt as I went. With the weight of my coat and weapons removed, I felt much more like a normal person. I might not actually be one, considering I was one of the monsters, but it was as close as I could get.
Ethan wasn’t upstairs yet. His bedroom door was hanging open. I peeked in his room and grimaced. Clothes were strewn about the room like a tornado had come through. A plate with something that looked like it might have once been a lump of cheese sat on the bed.
I might have taken him in when he was only a teenager, his parents having been killed by Count Valentino’s thugs, but that didn’t mean he always had to live like a kid on college vacation. It felt odd having to remind a thirtysomething to clean his room.
My bedroom was in much better condition. While it wasn’t much to look at, it held all the comforts I needed. I tossed my belt on a chair by the door and sat down on the bed to remove my boots. My feet ached, and the idea of a bath was now so overpowering I almost went straight into the bathroom and jumped into the tub with my clothes on.
I pulled off my boots and set them by the bathroom door. I would need to clean the blood off them sometime after my bath. The stuff would set in if I didn’t and then would be nearly impossible to get it out.
I was about to strip off my shirt and leather pants when my eyes fell on my sword. “Damn it,” I muttered. I went over and picked up the belt again. Ethan would want to know what kind of damage I had inflicted on the weapons. I needed to get them downstairs before he called it a night.
Leaving my room in my bare feet, I padded down the hall and back down the stairs. The house was eerily silent. Even though I was used to it, it was somehow unsettling this time. It just didn’t feel right.
“Ethan?” I called, stopping at the top of the stairs that led down into the sitting room. There was no answer.
Sighing, I made my way down the stairs. I was probably just paranoid. I usually was pretty high-strung for a day or two after a kill run. There was something about all the adrenaline pumping through my altered body that kept me on my toes long after I finished the job. A bath and a few quiet days would be all I would need to get back to normal.
Or my version of normal anyway.
The sitting room was dark and quiet. The door to the laundry room was hanging wide open, which wasn’t a surprise. It was the door to the basement that made the hairs on my neck stand on end. It was slightly ajar.
“Ethan?” I said, this time much quieter than before. It wasn’t like him to leave the basement door open. “You there?”
I drew my sword from its sheath. I nudged the basement door the rest of the way open. Faint light from the desk lamp resting on the table where a majority of my weapons were kept seeped up the stairs. I scanned what I could see of the room from the top of the stairs, but nothing seemed out of place.
I started slowly down, my sword at the ready. I still had my belt in hand and knew it would get in my way if something was wrong.
But how could it be? No one knew where I lived. No one knew who I was. Ethan had probably started to come upstairs and then remembered he forgot something in his lab and went back down to get it. It wouldn’t have been the first time. As smart as he was, he could be scatterbrained at times.
A faint scuffling noise came from below and I froze on a middle step. I listened for any other sign that someone was down there waiting for me.
At first, there was nothing. I eased down a step, keeping my eyes trained on the room below. The step creaked faintly and there was a sharp intake of breath from someone unseen in the basement.
I tightened my grip on my sword. Someone was in my house. Just the thought sent surges of rage through my body. This was my home, my sanctuary. This was the only place I had that was free from the nightmares of my life.
And someone had infiltrated it.
A clunk and the sound of the heavy second basement door opening caused my eyes to widen. Ethan.
I bolted down the last handful of stairs, my sword poised to strike. I hit the floor and opened my mouth to shout out a warning. I was too late.
“Kat?” Ethan said as he stepped into the room. His Tom and Jerry T-shirt had black smudges on it where he had absently wiped his hands clean while working. His eyes were heavy and his brown hair was rumpled as if he had fallen asleep down there.
Before I could warn him of the danger, a shape darted from behind one of the shelves in the room, straight for Ethan.
As fast as I was, I wasn’t fast enough. The man grabbed Ethan and spun him around, using him as a shield. Something glittered in his hand.
“Don’t move,” he said. His voice sounded strangled, scared. “I don’t want to have to hurt him.”
I froze where I was. I recognized the object in his hand. It was one of my knives. The silver wouldn’t hurt Ethan much, since he was as Pureblooded as the next human, but if the guy were to cut his throat, Ethan would bleed out just the same.
The man licked his lips and scanned the room. His eyes were wide, wild. He looked a lot more scared than I would have expected out of someone who had broken into my house.
It was then that I really took in his features. He was completely bald. There was no hair on his face or arms, or anywhere I could see, for that matter. His hands were trembling where they gripped the knife.
And in the center of his forehead was a crescent moon tattoo.
“Luna Cult,” I said, nearly hissing the name.
The Cultist swallowed hard but didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. I would know that tattoo anywhere. Although I never actually dealt with the Cult personally, I knew them by reputation.
The Luna Cult was the scum of the Pureblood population. They worshipped werewolves, pressured others into joining their ranks like they were some sort of religion. They viewed vampires as the enemy, creatures who held down the beasts the Cult worshipped. It was the only thing about them I liked.
“Lady Death?” the Cultist said, his eyes finally resting on me. He was breathing fast and hard.
I tensed at the name but made no move toward him. I just stared at him, willed him to make a mistake. If I had had my gun, I could have put a bullet between his eyes before he knew what hit him.
My eyes flickered over to the wall where another five modified Glocks hung. Their clips were in the drawer of the table beneath them. It would take far too long to load one and fire. By then, Ethan would probably be dead.
“What do you want?” I asked, turning my gaze back to the Cultist. I lowered my sword in the hopes I would appear a little less threatening.
The Cultist swallowed again. He looked as if he were trying to swallow a hunk of barbed wire. “I have a message for you.”
“What message?”
Ethan squeaked as the Cultist shifted positions. A thin trickle of blood ran from his throat where the Cultist had accidently cut him.
“I was told to deliver this to you.” He reached into his pocket and removed a balled-up piece of paper. He tossed it toward me. It fell to the ground a good foot from where I stood.
“What is it?” I glanced at the piece of paper but didn’t move to pick it up. I wasn’t about to put myself in any sort of vulnerable position, even if I did have a feeling this guy was scared out of his mind and was as likely to attack me as he was to stick his head into a meat grinder.
“An address. To our Den.”
I blinked at him. Was he serious? “Why?”
The Cultist eyed my sword. “Would you mind putting that away? I didn’t mean for you to find me in here. I just wanted to look around. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
I tossed the sword onto the table to my right without hesitating. I still had my belt in hand. My knives were hidden in sheaths worked into the leather so that they were nearly invisible. There was a good chance he wouldn’t know they were there until it was too late.
He visibly eased and the knife lifted from Ethan’s throat. He still held him tight, however, keeping the weapon close just in case I made a move.
“Okay,” I said. I shifted my grip on the belt so that my hand covered the hilt of a knife. If he were to ease up just a little more, I would have him. “Why are you giving me the address to your Den?”
“Because I was told to,” the Cultist said. He spoke much easier now that I wasn’t holding the sword. He must not have realized how dangerous I really was. “I was told to invite you to our Den. I wasn’t given the details as to why.”
I stared at the Cultist long and hard. This didn’t sound like the Luna Cult. Their Den was hidden somewhere in the city. No one outside the Cult knew where it was.
And I was a vampire. Why would they tell me of all people where it was located? It didn’t make sense.
“I’ve delivered my message,” the Cultist said. “Now, I just want to go.”
“Why’d you have to break into my house to deliver your message?”
“Oh hell.” The Cultist wiped his brow with his free hand. “It was a mistake,” he said. “No one answered the door and I just thought I might take a look inside, see how you lived. Shit. I didn’t mean to get caught. I just want to leave.”
“Let him go,” I said. “Then we’ll see about that.”
The Cultist instantly let Ethan go and raised both hands. He still had hold of the knife, but it was no longer threatening anyone.