Sometimes it felt as if the entire ocean lay on top of her, the weight of it at once vast and strangely freeing. The last time she’d woken breathless from that particular dream, she’d walked out to her little balcony to see a Legion fighter sitting on the railing.
He’d stared at her. She’d stared at him, the hairs rising on her arms.
An instant later, he’d flown off, his batlike wings silent in the night-draped sky.
Demarco tapped his finger on the table, the sound tugging her back from the memory of the surreal encounter. “Ransom was saying something about his street friends having noticed a weird vibe in the clubs. You should talk to him.”
“I was hoping he’d be here.” A former street kid, Ransom had contacts the rest of them couldn’t access, and with his leg currently in a cast that meant he couldn’t actively hunt, he’d been drafted in as an Academy instructor for the duration.
Demarco glanced away, staring through the casement windows at the snow that had begun to fall again, the flakes fatter and heavier than when Ashwini had come inside. “He took the day off.”
Ashwini caught Honor’s eye. Turning to Demarco, they said, “Spill,” in unison.
“Shit.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I can’t. He’ll skin me. You’ll know tonight.”
They trained their best “Talk or die” scowls on him, but he folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. Ashwini knew that look. He wasn’t going to budge. “Fine,” she muttered. “But you better have a damn good excuse for keeping it from us.”
“Trust me.” Grinning, he unfolded his arms, all open charm, but while she felt the affection of a friend for him, his smile did nothing for her as a woman.
Not like the smile of a certain vampire.
“Talking of secrets,” Demarco drawled, “you and the Cajun—”
Ashwini thumped a blade into the table in front of the other hunter, left it quivering in a vertical position.
“Watch it, Dem”—Honor laughed—“or you might end up dog food.”
The other hunter threw up his hands. “It was an innocent question.”
“Anyway,” Ashwini said pointedly, “if you hear anything that might be useful, pass it on.” She figured Ellie already had the info via Raphael.
“Will do.” Demarco glanced at his watch. “Gotta go. Have to pick up a vampire who decided to skip out on his Contract.”
Ashwini and Honor stared at him. “And you were sitting here eating a muffin?” Honor asked in a dumbfounded tone. “Isn’t a pickup a little more, I don’t know, important?”
“Genius booked a bus ticket. I swear to God,” Demarco said, doing up the buttons on his pale brown corduroy jacket with leather patches of darker brown at the elbows. “Under the name Bill Smith.”
Ashwini rolled her eyes. “I guess it’s better than John Smith.”
“No, that’s his real name. Plus, since he was good enough to provide photo ID when he booked, I know it’s my target.” He grabbed a deep blue woolen scarf and wrapped it around his neck twice. “I know what you’re thinking, that he’s throwing me off the scent—but I did my research. Bill Smith is an accountant who goes by the book.”
“Then why is he attempting to skip out on his Contract?” Only the morons, the deluded, and the arrogant tried to cheat the angels. Especially when the resulting punishments were known to be pitiless. Ashwini would’ve felt sorry for the vamps she brought back to face punishment except that no one had to choose vampirism. Once you made that bargain, though, it was your responsibility to keep it.