Midnight Predator

could.

“I’ll see you around,” she said as Greg hoisted his basket of groceries.

“Yeah, I’ll see you.”

She fled the aisle as soon as he had turned away. Quickly Eric finished shopping, and just as quickly they paid and hurried to Turquoise’s car.

“So who was that?” Eric asked.

“An old friend,” Turquoise answered vaguely. She looked at the store, but could not see Greg from where they were parked.

Eric turned toward her with worry drawn on his face. “He talked like you two were close.”

“He and Cathy were close,” Turquoise amended.

Eric frowned. “Aren’t you Cathy?”

“No,” Turquoise argued. “Cathy was . . . stupid. She couldn’t defend herself. Blissfully ignorant,” she added dryly.

“Innocent. Not stupid.”

“What makes you so wise?” Turquoise grumbled, mostly to herself. She started the car, attempting to drop the conversation.

Eric wouldn’t let it drop; he answered her question. “It’s the same thing the vampires do,” he answered, “and I’ve spent a lot of time around them. You don’t want to think of Cathy as you because she had weaknesses. You’re a hunter, so you’re not allowed to have weaknesses. A predator doesn’t like to admit it’s ever possible it can be prey.” Quietly, he added, “And maybe you don’t want to think that the girl Greg dated was capable of killing.”

Turquoise realized her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. She bit back a sharp criticism, remembering at the last moment that she had agreed to bring him, and had not been forced into it. “Cathy couldn’t make herself crush a spider walking on her bedside table,” she argued, her voice tight. “Shewasweak, and Daryl destroyed her.”

“Cathy isyou,” Eric asserted again. “Daryl couldn’t destroy her. He just made her a little harder, a little more scared—yes, scared,” he continued, ignoring Turquoise’s protest. “Cathy didn’t need to hunt because she wasn’t afraid of life.”

“Okay, then I’m scared,” Turquoise growled. “But I can’t go back. I know what’s out there, and if I turn my back on it, that won’t make it disappear.”

“You’d rather admit Daryl won than admit you were ever prey,” Eric said softly.

“Daryldidwin—that battle.” She was nearly shouting now. “He murdered my father and my ten-year-old brother in front of me, and I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t fight him. I couldn’t do anything. I spent one year in his house, little better than a pet, and I couldn’t do anything about it. Cathy died in there—her innocence, her illusions, her dreams—”

“Your dreams,” Eric interrupted. “What are you now? A hunter; I know that. Anything else?”

The question stymied her. Anything else?

Turquoise Draka was a high-ranking member of Crimson, and one of two competitors for the position of leader. She had a web of contacts and associates, but friends? Those were scarce, if they existed at all. She had a love of the hunt, an addiction to the sweet rush of adrenaline. Anything else?

Probably another ten or fifteen years of life. Though the lifespan of a member of Bruja was slightly longer, most hunters didn’t live past their mid-thirties. Age could catch up, making the hunter slow. But mostly death came in the form of the inevitable slipup. Carelessness. Human imperfection.

“Let it drop, Eric,” she ordered, or tried to. Her voice wasn’t hard enough to be commanding.

“What did Cathy want to do?” Eric pressed, his voice more gentle now.

“I said, let it drop.”

Cathy had wanted to help people. She had wanted to go into medicine, or teaching. She had wanted to work with children; Turquoise remembered that. She had cared about everything.

And everything had been able to hurt her.

Some people use things—people, objects. They destroy. You’re a creator, a builder, a healer, not a user. That line came to her mind time and again, no matter how wrong it now was.

Now she was a killer, a mercenary. And that was all.

CHAPTER 18

NATHANIEL WAS WAITINGin her living room when she got home. Lounging on the couch in jeans, a T-shirt, and a denim jacket, he looked casual and chic at the same time. Moreover, he looked comfortable, as if brightly lit suburban homes were a natural part of his life.

He rose to his feet like a cat, in one smooth movement, to greet them. “Eric, it’s good to see you safe. Milady Turquoise, you look like he’s been tugging your chain.”

“A bit.” Turquoise worked to wipe the frown from her brow.

Eric looked between the two of them, and then announced, “I’m going to put stuff away.”

“I can help—”

He shook off her offer. “No problem.”

“That boy is about a hundred years old,” Turquoise sighed.

“Too much time around vampires,” Nathaniel agreed. “He’s not worse off than you are, though.” In response to her wary expression, he added, “I’ve no plan to chastise you. Your life is your own.”

Not wanting to dwell, Turquoise broke right into her questions. “Did I get set up for a suicide mission?”

Nathaniel sat back down. “If you were after Jeshickah, yes. There are vampires thousands of years older than she is that would love to destroy her, but know better than to put the knife in place themselves.”

“Why? She isn’t so strong,” Turquoise asserted. “A knife in her heart would kill her. Who’s protecting her that can make other vampires wary?”

“Jeshickah’s sister is one of Siete’s fledglings.” Seeing Turquoise’s confusion, he elaborated, “Siete is the creature that created our kind. He’s ancient; people say he’s truly immortal. If you killed Jeshickah, her sister would demand your death, and Siete isn’t a creature you could fight.” He shook his head. “When you asked to get into Midnight, I’d thought you were after Jaguar. If I had known who your target was, I would have stopped you.”

“Why?” she pressed. “I’ve never known you to watch out for anyone else, not unless you were paid for it. Why now?”

“This might surprise you,” Nathaniel retorted, and Turquoise realized suddenly that she had insulted him, “but I was human for twenty years before I was changed, and unlike some of Jeshickah’s fledglings, I actually had a soul. I consider you a friend, Turquoise. Is it so shocking that I wouldn’t want you to die?”

No words came to Turquoise’s lips. Completely taken aback by his revelation, she could only shake her head.

“I was one of her early experiments,” Nathaniel explained. “Her third fledgling. She intended for me to be a trainer; I was the first person to refuse her and survive.” His gaze flickered to the kitchen, where Eric was busy ignoring them, and then returned to Turquoise. “After me, she started looking for those who already showed the tendencies she wanted. Gabriel was her favorite, but she was too fond of him; she never managed to own him, not the way she did the others.

“The others, of course, included Jaguar.”

A moment of silence passed before Turquoise ventured, “But why, however many years later, did you save me from Daryl? You’re not evil, but you say it yourself—you’re no white knight.”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Daryl wanted to get rid of you anyway, so it was no skin off my back. And maybe because you reminded me of myself.”

“Of you?” The words came out a startled yelp.

“When I was a human,” he clarified, “in Jeshickah’s Midnight.”

Turquoise stood, too frustrated to stay still. “You were another one of her . . . pets?”