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Everything in the letter was written in the personal encryption code only Grams and I knew, so I didn’t go through the trouble of hiding it. Instead, I kept it with my belongings to take with me everywhere I went after this.
Because it’d taken me nearly five days to read it. Because I’d spent two full days glaring at the letter on the dresser where I tossed it. Because I knew exactly what it was: the last correspondence I’d ever get from the one person who was my entire world for seventeen years.
Grams didn’t leave to come back. She left to disappear, and I hoped one day I’d figure out why.
Phillip talked a big game, saying we’d see her again, but something in his expression said otherwise. He didn’t believe a word he was saying, and I sort of wished I hadn’t been perceptive enough to pick up on it. I wished I could blindly hold onto the hope I’d see her again. It’d make this whole day a hell of a lot easier.
But I wasn’t ignorant.
Nearly a week had gone by, and we were finally set to meet the other Hunters the Organization sent. Last word I got, Nigel and Topher convinced the other three in the pack to help raid the Shadow Goblin nest, and they were out there nearly every day attempting to track its location.
Phillip explained that heavy magic was used to conceal the entrance, and without a way in, it was nearly impossible to find an exact location. Shifters could track scent better than we could, so it was our hope they’d find a way in.
But so far, nothing.
The damn things were living up to their name. Now I understood why they were so problematic, and why so many went unnoticed if a Hunter or other supernatural entity didn’t outright encounter them.
Three more people were killed and the authorities were getting antsy, suspecting a large carnivore on the loose despite no reports of there being one.
Phillip narrowed down a few areas, and we’d start scoping them out today with the arriving Hunters and Nigel’s pack. Split the work and report any findings.
To be honest, I was desperate for the distraction.
Phillip appeared in the doorway. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I cleared my throat and wiped my eyes, expelling any evidence I’d cried. “Just some nonsense about how I shouldn’t give you trouble and mind my manners.”
Phillip’s mouth twitched affectionately. “Too late.”
“Jerk,” I sassed, laughing against my will. “Nearly that time?”
Phillip nodded and brushed back his dark hair, then strode into my room. “Nearly. They’ve sent two Hunters to start. We’ll check out a few areas of interest.”
The other Hunter was decked out in his usual smart attire with Blood Slayer already strapped to his back. Today, his hair was left loose and hung over his eyes when he bowed his head to come inside the room. His tattoos were on full display in a simple black tank top, and every bit of his delectable muscle tone on both arms and shoulders was left exposed to my greedy eyes.
In this heat, I didn’t blame the Austrian for ditching his usual jacket. It was nearly eighty-five degrees at nine in the morning, and the humidity would be stifling.
You know, for people who breathed.
Ironically enough, we could sense the water in the air. Despite our vampire genes, we unfortunately felt the difference in temperature. Phil said it was probably why we felt pain—they hadn’t bothered to turn off our nerve receptors, so it meant we sensed fluctuations in many ways. Although, he later joked that pain was what made him feel most alive, and I’d basically concluded he was a total masochist afterwards.
I admired the vampire hunter’s strong physique for a second in spite of many internal lectures about why I shouldn’t.
“Sounds like a plan.” I retrieved a few weapons and strapped them to a harness across my chest. “Anything else?” I asked when Phillip didn’t immediately leave.
The Hunter hummed to himself and stepped closer, light eyes sweeping down my body. “You’re not equipping your weapons right.” Going to a knee in front of me, the other Hunter took out a thigh strap from his pocket. “You need to utilize all the major areas of your body so a weapon is always within reach wherever you move.”
I stiffened and nearly gasped as his large hands wrapped intimately around my thigh, fitting the strap to it. He pulled the leather tight and his fingers worked the excess length into a holding loop. Then his pale eyes flicked up to my face before his rose-pink lips twitched and he effortlessly sheathed an appropriately sized dagger into the strap.
“I could’ve—”
“You were close, don’t get me wrong. Just serves you better from this spot.”
The blue-eyed Hunter’s fingers danced across thin fabric and stroked my inner thigh, the sensation of it electric. A sound escaped my throat that I couldn’t smother, and I instantly flushed.
His touch was clearly intentional, and I couldn’t pretend I didn’t want to feel it again. It was that very thought that sent me into a shame spiral, outright disgusted with myself and how little it took for Phil to put me under his spell.
I should be better at this.
