Hunting for Truth (An Aria For The Vampire Book 2) by Philippa Norcross & Michael Anderle

Author:Philippa Norcross & Michael Anderle [Norcross, Philippa & Anderle, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2023-07-17T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Uh…’kay. About that.” Cora instinctively sank into her heels a touch, bending her knees barely, shifting into a ready stance like she’d practiced with Jack. Again, she now wished dearly that she’d kept up with those particular lessons—why hadn’t anyone told her that being a vampire brought along a whole bunch of people who seemed to, quite simply, want you dead?

She swallowed and looked between her four would-be assailants. At a glance, they appeared male, your run-of-the-mill, garden-variety bruisers. People you sent to beat someone up. Were these Evolved enforcers? Was this their style? The two hunters from the day before must have run home and squealed to mummy, as it were. How else anyone would know there was a vampire in town, she hadn’t the faintest idea.

“I was actually just leaving.” Cora jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “If all you want is for me to get lost, you’re really just getting in your own way. I’ve got no plans for sticking around, and no interest in coming back.” There’s nothing for me here anymore, not once I’ve handled the kids, and God knows they probably shouldn’t stay here either.

Lead Bruiser Number One, with his gingery beard, sneered at her. “Nah. There’s no fun in that, right, boys?” The other three men cheered, their voices raucous, as they slapped their hands together. One of them had a club hanging off his belt, Cora observed. None of them looked like they had guns, but they almost certainly had magic.

“You’d rather fight a vampire and chance going home maimed or injured, or not at all than just walking away?” Cora challenged them, eyebrows rising. As much as she hoped they’d come around and leave off, she was also keeping them talking so that she could prepare. She was already tapping into her vampiric senses, and the alley was becoming almost unbearably loud as a result. Loud and smelly. She’d always thought snow covered scents, but boy, was she wrong.

“We want you dead,” said the second enforcer. He was truly brutish, with a square forehead and an even squarer jaw, stubbled over with black. His eyes were small in his face, piggish even. Not a pleasant-looking man, but the type you’d expect to find in this line of work. Stereotypes always started somewhere, didn’t they? He also had a light accent, maybe something Eastern European—it was hard to tell, but it made every word sound like a sneer. He was the one with the club.

“Or at least hurt rather badly.” This was the third man, who was skinnier than the first two, and whose long face reminded Cora of a horse. He sounded prissy, a hint of something British in his voice. Cora thought she could see the handle of a wand sticking out of his pocket. Either a very powerful spellcaster, then, who needed an external focus not to be overpowered by his own magic—or a spellcaster with very poor self-control. Neither was a pleasant thought.

“You can’t come back here,” said the last man.

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