Devil’s Mate(7)

It had begun to turn. A man’s face looked out at the moonlight but the body was still wolven. The Hunter said, “Silence, your sentence is carried out.”

He drew the silver blade again and neatly detached the head from the shoulders. Cara shuddered and retched, unable to stop herself at the grisly sight of blood and fur and gore. Almost immediately, the rogue began to turn to ash and dust. She shuddered and covered her face to keep its remains out of her eyes and mouth.

“When will he wake up?” the Hunter asked, motioning towards the almost-victim’s unconscious body.

“In a minute or two,” Cara said. “Should we wait?”

“No. Let him think he staggered back here and passed out.” The knife slid into a sheath at his narrow waist and the black t-shirt he wore covered it. Cara became aware of his body at that movement and her mouth went dry all over again, but for an entirely different reason.

Cara stood five foot nine but this Hunter towered over her by at least four inches. His shoulders were broad and his hips narrow; his legs were long and even through the tight jeans he wore she could tell he was muscular and trim. Not bulky and huge like a wrestler, but athletic and fit. Her heart fluttered and moisture seeped into her panties. That shocked her somewhat. She’d never been interested in a man before — not in that sense.

“I’m Sebastian.”

“Cara. Caraleigh, actually, but everyone calls me Cara.” She was being about as goofy as it got. He was making her feel like a tongue-tied teenager! Her hand shook slightly as she reached for his; his fingers closed over hers and warmth seeped into her. His green eyes held her brown ones. There was a fleck of blood on his face, right below his right eyebrow.

She wiped it away without thinking. His skin was warm and firm, and she let her fingertip linger on the flesh. His eyebrow was as golden and straight as the rest of his hair. She wanted to put her hands into his hair, see if it was as thick and coarse as it looked.

“Would you like some coffee?”

The question startled her out of the reverie and daydream she’d been engaging her. Her face burned. “Yes, I would.”

She didn’t really want coffee, but she did want to get the hell out of that dead-end street and away from the stink that was gathering in the wake of the rogue’s demise. The man that she and Sebastian had rescued had begun to stir and moan softly, like a dreamer surfacing from a nightmare.

They hurried down the street and out into the flow of life beyond it. Tourists packed the sidewalks, their cameras held at the ready and natives sat about looking bored. The yuppies at the tables kept a close eye on their designer messenger bags and wallets while pickpockets roamed the crowds.

A reader was set up in the square, cards in her hands, her table empty of everything but a single glowing glass sphere. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted Cara and Sebastian. Cara’s nerves tingled. Some people had the gifts that Tribe had and used them as well as Tribe did. This woman was truly gifted, and she saw Cara for what she was.

“There’s a great coffee shop over there,” Cara said, pointing to the opposite side of the square. She didn’t want to go past that woman; she already had things to explain to Sebastian and she didn’t want a fortune-teller to bust her out before she could.

Loud music and a funeral procession came strutting down the street. The tourists ran to watch and Sebastian took the opportunity to slide slightly closer to her in the crowd. Cara knew what he was doing, and a grin crossed her lips as their hips bumped lightly.

They walked inside the shop, which was mostly empty. This time of night, it was the bars that held the most sway, even though many of them were open 24 hours a day. Sebastian paid for the coffee, and she thanked him as they sat down.

The coffee was good and strong. Her hands were shaking a bit and the drink helped to steady them. She’d just fought a rogue! Her eyes met his and she blurted out, “I’ve never run into one of those before.”

At least not while she was alone. She didn’t say that last part aloud however.

“I wish I could say the same,” Sebastian said.

“Are you a Hunter?”

His face showed surprise. “You know about the Hunters?”

“Yes.” Damn, why had she said that? The Hunters were a clandestine group, and highly secretive. They were never supposed to reveal themselves and she knew it. She’d just put him in a bad spot.

“I see.” His strong fingers flexed and she stared down at his hands and arms. There was a tattoo on the back of his left wrist, a delicate rendering of what looked like a night sky and a full moon. Uneasiness settled into her bones. His fingers were long and elegant, the hands of a pianist or a surgeon. “I’m glad you came along. That rogue was more powerful than most.”