I'll Be Slaying You(9)

Not when killers were waiting.

If the people in this bar had half a clue what was hunting them…

“See you around,” she told him, keeping her voice bland and tugging her hand free. His fingers had been rough against her, lightly callused, warm, and strong.

Too easy to imagine those fingers sliding over her flesh. Cupping her breasts. Spreading her thighs.

Dee swallowed. Okay. So maybe it had been too long since she’d been laid.

“I can help you.” His cool words had her hesitating, glancing back, dammit.

He stared at her, unblinking.

“Not amateur night, buddy,” Jude murmured and his nostrils twitched. “Dee and I have a job to do, we don’t—”

“Maybe you need prey to draw out the vampire,” Chase continued, never taking his eyes off her. “Maybe I’m the man you need.”

Only one way to find out.

“Hell, what have you been telling him?” Jude demanded, swiping his hand across his forehead. “Low profile, woman, low profile.”

Dee ignored him. Pretty easy to do most days. “We’ve got this one covered.”

Chase’s jaw worked but he shoved his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a card. “You change your mind, you call me.”

Don’t take it, don’t take it, don’t, ah…hell. Dee’s fingers curled around the card.

She didn’t even see his hand move. But in the next instant, his fingers were around hers and he brought her hand to his mouth. His lips pressed against her flesh, his tongue tasted her.

Two seconds, maybe three. Then he dropped his hold and flashed that bad boy grin. “I wanted a little taste.”

So did she.

“Dee…”

She knew that tone. Jude would be having a fit any second—or as close to a fit as a tiger could have.

Chase brushed past her and disappeared into the crowd.

“Shop for a new lover later, we’ve got problems now.” He bent his head toward her and whispered right against her ear, “Kymine.”

Dee sucked in a sharp pull of air.

“They’re pumping it in the place. And if the kymine is here…”

Then the vamps were, too.

Kymine. A sweet little concoction the vamps had created about ten years ago, a brew that they pumped into the air in order to screw with a shifter’s sense of smell.

With about 95 percent accuracy, shifters could pick up the stench of a vamp in a crowded room. Jude had told her once that, to him, vamps smelled like corpses. Yeah, that made sense, considering that vampires were dead. Kinda anyway.

To be reborn as a vampire, a human had to die. The heart stopped. The brain ceased to function. The lungs didn’t rise.

Dead. Cold. Hello, afterlife.

Almost hello. Because if the exchange was successful, a few moments of true death were all the person would have. The heart would beat again, the lungs would fill, and the brain would kick-start to life again.

Alive once more, with a few new extra features.

Like fangs, super strength, and a nearly insatiable lust for blood.

Because the vampires knew that the shifters could smell them—and have one hell of a hunting advantage—they’d researched like crazy and finally produced kymine.

Kymine could only be used in a closed, restricted area. Once it was pumped into the ventilation system, it dispersed. A shifter unlucky enough to be in the area would temporarily lose his sense of smell.

And feel as if fire were burning the inside of his nostrils.

“I can’t smell a damn thing,” Jude said, still close, his breath whispering against her ear. To others, they’d look like lovers.

The best way to hunt. Deceive. Mislead.

“The bastards could be right next to me,” he said, “and I still wouldn’t know.”

So much for the shifter being her secret weapon tonight.

But there were too many lights in that place. Too many people, too many eyes. If a vampire was there, he’d only be scouting for food. The feast would come later.

When he had his prey alone.

Time to switch up plans. “Let’s go outside. You take the front, I’ll take the back.” They’d leave Zane inside, he could keep a careful watch on the bar.

The bar owners had to know about the vampires. No other reason they’d pump in the kymine.

“We need to tell Zane. He’ll need to—”

“Already did.” He eased back and she caught the glimpse of fang. “You armed?”

Her brow shot up. “Seriously? You’re asking me that?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “Let’s get the bastards.”

Good plan.

She reached into her bag and curled her fingers around her stake.

Showtime.



The night was too quiet. Especially for this part of town. There should have been laughter on the wind. Drunken voices. Car horns or the fading beat of music.