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A Born Master didn’t just pick up the thoughts of those in his link. He could whisper his thoughts to them. Compel them. Rule them. His army of helpless minions. Good, bad, everything in between. All his for the taking and for the killing.
The Taken were never truly free. Not until the Born Master who’d started their blood lineage was dead. Never an easy feat.
“Huh. Well, if your contacts are out, then I guess we’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way,” Dee decided.
Simon knew he was not going to like this. “And that would be?” He braked at a stop sign, one that had been spray-painted a garish yellow. They’d reached the edge of the city. The part where the good folks never visited. Too many criminals. Too much darkness.
Too much evil.
Simon glanced at Dee. Yep, her eyes were on him. “We find the perfect prey,” she said simply. “Then wait for the vamps to take the bait. When they come up for a bite, we nail their asses.”
“Interesting plan.” His fingertips pounded a fast, hard beat on the steering wheel. “You really think it’s going to work?”
One shoulder lifted. “Figure I’ve got a fifty-fifty shot with it. If it doesn’t, then I have a witch who owes me a favor. Maybe I can get a summoning spell.”
A summoning spell? Now she was talking spooky shit. You had to be real careful when you used dark magic. You never knew what in the hell would hitch a ride on that darkness and come traveling straight to you.
As he watched her, thinking about his own darkness, a shiver worked over Dee’s body. “Uh, Dee? You okay?”
“Fine. Just cold. Can we turn the heater up?”
Because summers in Baton Rouge were cold. Right. But he still flicked on the heater. Didn’t matter to him. “Maybe we should wait.” He sure wasn’t feeling up to kicking major vampire ass right then. Perhaps after a meal or two.
“No time.” She crossed her arms and rubbed her skin. She had on a thin blouse, one of her shirts she’d found at the cabin. One that gave him a nice glimpse of her cleavage. “We’ve already lost a few hours. We hunt, now and—there.”
He followed her suddenly sharp gaze. A man had stepped out of the shadows. The faint red glow of his cigarette lit the night. “Who the hell is that?”
“An informer.” She tilted her head, and his stare snapped back to her and to her beautiful bared throat.
Focus.
But the drumming was back in his temples. Harder, more painful than before.
“Ian knows this city. He’ll be able to tell me the latest whispers on the vamps.”
Control. Simon sucked in a deep breath.
“I knew he’d be here.” She unhooked her belt.
“And how’d you know that?” Simon rasped, turning off the engine.
Dee pointed toward the hollowed-out husk of a building on the left. “Because his brother died in that fire a year ago. He comes here every Friday. He comes to remember.”
Simon narrowed his eyes and looked once more at that glowing cigarette. “Uh, so, how’d that fire start?”
“You don’t want to know.” She pushed open the door, then hesitated. “Ian doesn’t take too well to others. Just stay here, okay? I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Staying in the fucking car. Was that what he’d been reduced to?
But the woman was gone. Running across the street. Disappearing in and out of the shadows.
Staying in the fucking car. No. Not his style.
He was there to watch her back. Not to be left behind.
He opened his door soundlessly, then, moving slower than her, but keeping to the same shadows, he began to follow Dee.
* * *
