Bound by Darkness - Alexandra Ivy [32]
“Might makes right, eh?”
She shrugged. “Something like that.”
“So typical of that overgrown Aztec,” he muttered, abruptly turning on a dark street and leading her past the small, historic churches nestled among the taverns. “Were you held as a prisoner?”
Her brows lifted. How the hell had the gargoyle become acquainted with the most powerful vampires in the world?
A story for another day.
“Not a prisoner,” she said, “but I was ... encouraged to complete my training.”
“I can imagine the encouragement,” he muttered.
“No, you really can’t.”
A silence descended as her words sliced through the air with a bleak edge. Then, sensing the gargoyle was slowing his pace, Jaelyn turned to meet his sympathetic gaze.
“But now your training is complete?” he asked.
“Yep.” Her lips twisted. “I’m a card-carrying, full-fledged Hunter.”
“There are cards?”
She couldn’t halt her abrupt laugh. “If I told you I’d have to kill you.”
An answering smile curved his lips. “I never thought I would ever meet such a charming vampire,” her companion murmured. “You are truly unique.”
“I might agree with unique,” she said dryly, “but I’ve rarely been called charming.”
“I doubt you have much opportunity to reveal your softer side in your current profession.”
Softer?
Had she ever had a softer side?
“ No.”
“Can you quit?”
She blinked at the unexpected question. “Quit being a Hunter?”
“Oui.”
“It’s a position of great honor among vampires,” she mouthed the well-rehearsed words. It was true enough that most vampires envied those chosen by the elite Addonexus. They saw only the power and wary respect offered to the members, without ever understanding the cost. “Why would anyone wish to leave?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I can think of a few hundred.”
She came to a halt, the hair on the back of her neck rising at the unmistakable stench that filled the air.
“I smell trolls.”
The gargoyle gave a delicate shudder. “I did warn you that it was a low-class establishment.”
“So you did.” With a smooth motion, Jaelyn was bending to lay Ariyal on the hard pavement, sliding her hand over his hard body until she found one of the numerous daggers he had hidden. Gripping the ivory handle, she straightened and pointed toward the gargoyle. “Remain here with the Sylvermyst. I will return as soon as I can.”
“Where are you going?”
“To negotiate for a room.”
She had already turned to make her way down the steps that led to the cellar beneath the silent pub when Levet reached to grasp her free hand.
“Be careful, ma enfant,” he pleaded softly.
She glanced back in surprise. First Ariyal tried to protect her and now this creature was looking at her as if he was truly concerned.
It was ... unnerving.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said gruffly.
A faint smile curved his lips, lifting his hands in a helpless gesture.
“It is what I do.”
With a scowl she ignored the tiny flare of warmth as she vaulted to the bottom of the steps and shoved open the heavy oak door that was hidden from humans by a spell of concealment.
Dammit.
She was supposed to be terrifying others with her mad skills, not encouraging them to treat her as if she were some helpless female in need of coddling.
Thankfully she had no trouble slipping back into her I-want-to-kill-something mode as she stepped into the large room with wood-plank floors and a low, open beamed ceiling.
Her gaze skimmed over the nearly empty booths that lined the walls, where a handful of weary humans sprawled, their eyes glazed with drugs and their thin bodies barely covered. She grimaced. Even at a distance she could see the bite marks where vampires had fed on their tainted blood.
She crossed toward the bar at the back, allowing her senses to flow through the building. The fighting pits were beyond the bar as well as the cubbies for those demons who preferred a bit of privacy for their sex. Beneath them she could sense several locked cells where a troll, two ogres, and at least three curs were sleeping off their numerous injuries.
Her attention, however, was trained on the male imp behind the bar. With his long