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“This seems personal,” Dice says, pointing to the mauling. “Why else would anyone be this brutal?”
“They could be out of control,” Chaz says insightfully.
“They’d have to be incredibly strong to take down a night stalker, and Thad just said the female who did it is young.” Gage sounds as confused as all of us.
No young were-creature, changer, or lycan could take down even a new night stalker.
“Gage Saber,” a voice says just as a body materializes, and I look up at the blonde-haired light user that I haven’t seen in a while.
“Frankie,” Gage says with a small smile. “Long time.”
Frankie was like Alyssa’s uncle her entire life—one of the few people allowed to know she was Drackus’s daughter before she got more powerful than him. What the hell is he doing in Pine Shore?
“It’s actually Kross now. I ditched Saber a while back,” Gage tells him, as if this is the best time in the world for catching up. “I thought you were in
Egypt and tracking down leads to where the ancient purgatory scrolls might be.”
“Two dead bodies could use your attention when you girls finish getting reacquainted,” I remind them.
Frankie snorts a laugh at me. “Are you jealous? I was planning on speaking to you, too.”
I can’t help but laugh lightly, then his face gets serious. “I met a stone wall, dead end on the scrolls. Alyssa had me come back here. As soon as I arrived, she told me of the lovelies here you’ve found. I saw the pictures you sent her, and this isn’t good.”
I forgot that Frankie is even older than Gage.
“What’re we hunting for?” I ask him.
He kneels beside the pale body with black veins. “It’s not what you’re hunting for; it’s what’s hunting for you. This is from an anointed. Looks like there’s a slayer in Pine Shore.”
Motherfucker.
“You’re sure?” I ask, hoping he’s going to say no.
Luck and me do not get along, because he nods instead of giving me an ounce of hope.
“Great,” Dice groans. “Hashtag—Buffy’s back from the dead. Again.”
Groans come from all around, directed at the ill-timed incubus. He shrugs, looking as careless as usual. He only takes shit serious when the danger finds us face-to-face.
“How?” Karma asks, studying the body carefully.
“They have weapons,” Frankie answers.
“No,” Dice says in objection. “I’ve used their weapons. It doesn’t do this to bodies.”
“It only does this in the hands of an anointed,” Frankie clarifies, announcing the horrifying truth that we know very fucking little about these beings. “With an anointed weapon in their hands, the sting turns to poison. That’s why there are so many hand-to-hand combat weapons. The arrows won’t do this—unless they’re holding them, of course. They keep the weapon buried deep, holding it in place until the prey is killed by the poison. It’s paralyzing, painful, brutal, and not at all a pleasant way to go.”
I drop back onto my haunches, still studying both bodies. An anointed didn’t kill this mauled one.
“How can they know it’s us?” Karma asks him, doing better with handling herself around strangers these days.
“That, my dear, is the scariest part. Some of the old families had medallions they wore. It showed an anointed—and only an anointed—what truly hid beneath the beauty. If the weapons have been reactivated, then so have the medallions. Apparently one family held onto all of their ancient heirlooms. Then again, maybe this guy just displayed his true self. We need to have our guard up.”
The predator becomes the prey. I completely understand the logic in tossing that shit into purgatory. I’m not good with being hunted.
“My guard is always up,” Karma says under her breath.
“What about this guy?” I ask, motioning toward the mauled one. “Young female did this, but I don’t know how. Karma says he was a night stalker.”
