Coming out of a vampire glamour was always one of the most disorienting experiences.
One minute, I was swimming in a reverie better than being drunk or high. The world was softened and muted. Nothing hurt. Euphoria smoothed all the rough edges in my brain. I could have quite literally died happy, which was entirely the idea.
The next minute, I was acutely aware of being watched by a predator, my body on high alert as I instinctively reacted to the threat. Adrenaline jarred through me, shooting tension through my muscles as the physical warred with the magical.
My eyes snapped open, and I found myself in a small bedroom decorated in bright fabrics that softened the walls of the underground space. The silk coverlet under me was soft, and the pillows were ridiculously fluffy. I tried to sit up, which resulted in more of a spasm.
I groaned as I realized the paralytic effect of the heavy glamour was still wearing off.
“There she is.” My host sounded pleased with herself, as always.
I liked Maria though and didn’t begrudge her the satisfaction. After all, our business arrangement—my blood in exchange for her protection—was what made it possible for a magic-wielding half-elf in exile like me to move freely in Raleigh.
As a bounty hunter, I needed to be able to pursue marks across the entire region without worrying about hungry vamps from Torsten’s coterie making potentially deadly plays for me. My full-blooded cousins were more or less required to stay in their territory in Chapel Hill unless they wanted to be someone’s meal and strengthen one of their major competitors for power in the area. I had no power to lose, so for me, it was all upside. That the third most powerful vampire in town had a taste for elf blood was my lucky break, even if mine was thinner than my aforementioned cousins’.
“Morning,” I mumbled when I was able, trying a smile.
“Not even.” Maria’s long, cobalt-colored tresses teased over the bare skin of my neck as she leaned over to inspect me. Her dark eyes searched mine as she inhaled, checking with all her senses that I was as well as could be expected, given that she’d taken at least a pint of blood. That blood gave her pale skin a rosy flush now. “Well. Technically, I suppose it is morning, but it’s barely three. I told you you’d adjust, doll.”
If I’d been together enough, my eyebrows would have shot up. The first time I’d let Maria glamour and bite me a few months ago, I’d been out from midnight to just past sunrise. We’d both gotten enough out of it to make it a regular thing. Coming back every six weeks through the winter and spring had kept up my access to Raleigh. It’d also kept my bank account full, as I was able to tag bounties the high-blood assholes in the Darkwatch didn’t dare trespass for. Torsten, the vampire Master of Raleigh, had a short temper and a long memory when it came to uninvited trespassers. Especially elves or weres.
Mixed-bloods like me though, he didn’t consider a threat. His mistake, Maria’s benefit.
Maria was a rare forward-thinker among the vampires. Torsten was lucky to have her, even if I suspected he tended to overlook her. I also suspected that was her intention, given how harried Aron, the number two vamp in Raleigh, generally looked on the few occasions I’d glimpsed him.
I wrestled with the glamour. High-blood elves could use Aether to dispel a vampire’s glamour from others but would fall into an alarmingly deep dissociative state without support. Low-bloods like me didn’t fall quite so deep, and we healed a vampire bite faster than our high-blood cousins, given the human blend to our makeup. But it still hit us pretty hard. Some of us—cough, cough, yours truly—liked the occasional high of a glamour as an alternative to the chemical trips offered by drugs or alcohol. No hangover, even if it left you vulnerable to being drained. Slow-healing bites were a small price to pay, especially when I could mix business with pleasure.
I was an adrenaline junkie. So sue me.
It’d worked out in my favor so far. Since coming to North Carolina, at least.
Not so much back home.
Finally, I shook myself free of the last of the glamour. Maria had bandaged the wound she’d made in the bend of my elbow while I was out.
“Thanks,” I said, flexing my left arm.
“Anytime. Especially if it means you come back for more. No pressure, of course.” She smiled. “I should mention it’s not just the glamour that’s breaking faster. You’re healing up better as well. Bite marks should be gone by tomorrow evening.”
I grinned back at her and slid off the bed then caught myself as I swayed from sitting up too fast after the one-two punch of a glamour and a bite.
“Easy, doll.”
“Yeah. No kidding. Same time in six weeks?”
“If you’re offering, I won’t say no.” Maria tilted her chin down, peering up at me as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Does anyone actually buy the innocent flirt routine?”
Her coffee-dark eyes flashed with amusement. “Most do. Unfortunately for them.”
Shaking my head, I gave her a sloppy salute and made my way out. It wasn’t the first time I’d left Maria’s rooms in the basement of Claret, the wine bar she’d cultivated in a previously empty shop above the main entrance to the coterie’s nest. We’d met when I’d wandered in looking for info on a tag, not realizing it was a vamp-owned bar until she’d sidled up to me and asked for a word in private. I’d thought the metaphysical power signature hanging over the place just meant there was a vampire city master nearby, not actually in residence, so it was good luck Maria had spotted me before someone more powerful.
Noah eyed me as I slipped out the door to her chambers but didn’t hassle me. I couldn’t figure out the relationship between him and Maria, but he was awfully protective of her. He also seemed to take orders from her. A fledgling, maybe, and a reasonably old one; his deep golden skin suggested he’d been born much darker than he was now and had spent a long time avoiding the sun.
Regardless, it wasn’t really my business. I nodded to him and took the spiral stairs back up to the main floor more slowly than usual, mindful of my current state. The bar was busy when I pushed through the curtain hiding the narrow hallway ending in the door that led downstairs. Indy Week had done a feature on the place a few days ago, and the slow but consistent trickle of business had sped up considerably.
The vampires had a steady flow of potential donors now, and none of the mundanes even knew it.
Humans spoke too loudly over a nice jazz mix, and the scent of expensive wine filled the space. A few men I took to be single eyed me. One tried to catch my attention. I winked and kept walking, not interested in fucking a mundane tonight. I had nothing against them. My father was one, after all. But I’d inherited more than the usual of my mother’s Aetheric magic, and that meant I had to be more careful than I cared to be, given I’d been glamoured myself this evening. One slip and I could find myself breaking the Détente.
I shuddered at the idea of being hauled up in front of Callista. Nobody knew what flavor of Othersider the local boss was, but she was nasty as fuck and quick to deal out harsh punishments in the basement of her weird little bar up in Durham. I steered clear and minded my business like a good little low-blood, even if I resented the second-class status my human half gave me in Otherside—especially with my cousins.
Warm night air with just a hint of humidity greeted me as I slipped out of Claret. Early June was a good time to be in North Carolina, with reasonably comfortable nighttime temps and humidity on the lower end. This was the early side of hurricane season, although not many big storms made it this far inland at any strength to do more than flood the area. I was still settling into my exile after just under a year, but as exile went, this wasn’t bad.
For the most part.
I was still able to do the work I enjoyed. I missed the cosmopolitan vibe of Europe, but the Triangle—as the locals called the trio of cities—was nowhere near as bad as my mother’s House thought it’d be when they’d sent me to live with my distant cousins.
Or hell, maybe I should give myself some credit. Maybe I was just that good at adapting to shitty circumstances that weren’t my fault.
I shook off the familiar rage before it could build into a fury that would send me looking for more of the trouble that’d gotten me exiled to begin with and booked an Uber back to Southpoint, ignoring the men giving me long glances and some not-quite-muttered compliments from where they waited in the queue outside Claret.
Finally, my Uber pulled up. The driver was a chatterbox all the damn way home. I let him talk, giving enough of a noncommittal sound to indicate agreement or outrage as seemed appropriate while I thought about what I was doing here in North Carolina. Something about tonight had me realizing I’d fallen into a pattern.
Patterns were dangerous. Doubly so for exiles like me, living at the very margins of my patrons’ protection.
After I’d fucked up back home, House Monteague had authorized my transfer to the Triangle in exchange for the use of my skills as a bounty hunter—not that we called it that here, at least not where mundanes could hear.
Some state law that said you could be a bounty hunter but not call yourself one. Ridiculous.
Anything the local elven Houses couldn’t or didn’t want to use the Darkwatch for, they kicked to me. Sometimes I actually did play bond bail runner or process server for both Otherside and the mundanes, just to stay busy and keep money coming in.
Sometimes my work got quite a bit more exciting.
So far, it’d worked out.
So far. I wasn’t naive enough to think that’d last forever, especially given the growing animosity between me and my boss, Farand.
When I say animosity, I mean the bigoted dick hated me for being good at my job despite being a low-blood. Which meant I needed a backup plan. I’d thought Maria was it, but the more I thought, the more I realized it was just another distraction from the loneliness that kept me up at night sometimes. Another routine.
I hated routine.
The driver slowed as we hit the off-ramp at Southpoint.
Shaking free of my thoughts, I sat up and leaned forward. “Right off the exit and then through the light. Then left into the shopping center at the next light. You can drop me in the Tobacco Trail parking. Thanks.”
Chatterbox frowned at me in the rearview mirror. “It’s not safe on the trail this time of night, ma’am. Last week there was a—”
“I know, but I’ll be fine. Thanks for your concern.” I’d rather take my chances with the occasional asshole on the trail after dark than with someone definitely knowing where I lived. At five-eight, lean, and pretty, I knew I looked like bait. The knife sheathed on my forearm under my light jacket, the Walther PPK in my purse, and the frequent experience of using them said otherwise, even if I hadn’t had just enough control of Aether to sting a would-be attacker and magically suggest they fuck right off.
With a shrug, the driver did as I’d asked.
I slid out of the car then waited for him to pull away before heading west along the trail. Technically it was “south,” but this part curved around the upscale strip mall on the northern side of NC-54, giving people a quieter path to follow than the busy road. The gates at the entry of the community stopped cars, but walking a little took me to the end of the fencing and the fountain that indicated where my unit was—a serious security failure in my estimation, but I hadn’t chosen the place.
With a quick look around, I cut across the lawn and around to the front of the building, avoiding the geese giving me the evil eye as they shuffled to get between me and their young. The only noise came from an idling semi parked up at the Harris Teeter, dropping off a restock. I hated the constant noise from traffic coming down Fayetteville and 54, but it was another layer of security. If my family got sick of the disgrace of my exile and a triad of Darkwatch elves came for me and tried using a soundproofing spell to kill me quietly in my sleep, the absence of sound would tip me off.
For now though, the stillness of my one-bed apartment was kind of depressing.
The bells swinging from the inside doorknob clattered as I shut the door and locked it, another insurance policy. A bounty hunter could never be too careful. If a tag got wind of me before I could strike or if a high-blood took exception to my presence or any of the dozens of things that could go wrong in Otherside went wrong, I wanted a warning.
You’re too fucking paranoid.
I shoved the mental voice aside and scrubbed my hands over my face. Paranoid kept me alive. It also kept me lonely.
Idle flirtation aside, my deal with Maria was strictly business. I’d been in town long enough now to learn who held territory where, who not to fuck with, and who could be bought, and I was starting to feel the itch.
Fortunately, I was closing in on a bounty. If I could bring her in tomorrow, I could afford to take a night off and celebrate. Maybe find a little company for the evening.
A night off in someone’s arms couldn’t hurt, right? Especially since I’d been such a good—and lonely—girl since arriving in town. Keeping my head down, doing my job, not ruffling any feathers.
Yeah. It was my turn to have a little fun. All I had to do was get this one job done.
Bringing in a werewolf who was in the territory without permission was one of those jobs that was too small for the Darkwatch to dirty their hands with and too politically sensitive for the local wereleopard leap to handle themselves.
Still, I thanked the Goddess when we—my bounty and I—got to the storefront Callista had set up as a bond agency in Durham without incident the next morning.
My boss looked up, his dark brows lifting in surprise and his mouth twisting into a condescending smile as he saw me marching the were, Viktoria Volkov, in ahead of me. “Another tag. Somehow you continue to impress, Desmarais. Keep this up, and you might actually come off probation one day.”
I gritted my teeth. Farand was a Monteague, and while he might be from the lesser branch of the House, it was still the most powerful one in the Triangle. Its queen had a particular dislike of anyone not pure-blood elf, so while I was useful, that didn’t mean I was valued.
Viktoria watched the exchange with too-clever blue eyes but said nothing. We’d had a solid talk in the car on the way over.
I flushed with embarrassment before I could remind myself that Farand’s bullshit was nothing to do with anything that was my fault. Forcing a tight smile of my own, I said, “Where do you want her?”
He tilted her head to the chair next to his desk, and Viktoria went and sat without being told, pulling her brown ponytail over her shoulder.
“Good dog,” Farand murmured, a nasty twist to his lips and tone. He was always doing this kind of shit to me and anyone else he thought was beneath him.
Viktoria stiffened, glancing at me for some reason.
I shook my head. Not worth it, girl. Let this one go.
Blessedly, the small but fiery werewolf listened. It made Farand’s attitude even more unbearable.
This time I had to remind myself it wouldn’t be worth it to slap the smug bastard. A big drink, I promised myself. Better yet, a whole bottle of prosecco just for me and whoever tickles my fancy tonight in my bed. I can always encourage them to forget if I slip up with the magic.
Just to piss Farand off, I nodded to Viktoria. “Thank you for your cooperation, miss. I’ll be sure Terrence hears of it for consideration in your sentencing.”
The werewolf’s eyes widened slightly, then she gathered herself and nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”
With a last tight smile, I spun on my heel and left before Farand could instigate something that’d get me exiled for a second time.
I fumed as I headed back home after getting Volkov’s car sorted for her return to Asheville. I was worth more than this. I was better than this. But all these high-blood assholes saw was my mixed heritage and my heavy past. All I did was continually prove myself and my skills. If I didn’t know any better, I’d been given the werewolf job with the expectation that I’d fuck it up. Everyone knew weres could be volatile, especially young ones this close to a full moon.
That idea froze the blood in my veins as I walked down the Tobacco Trail, not willing to go home just yet. Were they trying to get rid of me? For what? Being good enough—or better—despite my half-human heritage?
Anger drained from me as the old struggle reared its head. That shit. Again.
I just wanted someone to see me for me. Just one person. Someone who would appreciate my strengths without thinking my weaknesses or differences made me less-than. Someone had once, but he’d been too weak to stand up for the love he’d claimed when the shit hit the fan.
I was tired of it. Tired of living with the blame for things that weren’t my fault. Tired of being either a tool or ignored. Tired of working my ass off to get crumbs. I loved the bounty hunting part of my job and my life but…not much else. I didn’t have much of anything else.
It was time to change that.
I needed something for me. And yeah, the state’s licensing requirements for bounty hunters might mean I had to stay with Farand’s bond agency for another three months to maintain my mundane cover but after that? After that, I was a free agent. By mundane law, anyway. Farand hated me, so I couldn’t imagine that he’d fight too hard to keep me if I decided to go freelance.
With a sudden burst of defiance, I knew where I’d go to celebrate tonight: back to Raleigh. Not to Claret but to a new club I’d read about a couple weeks ago. It looked classy, like the kind of scene I used to enjoy back in Lyon and London. Bonus: other elves wouldn’t dare trespass there. I could use the protection my blood had bought from Maria and have a whole night free of the risk of running into my asshole cousins.
I needed to start thinking of my future, not my past. I couldn’t go back home for a while, even if I was ready to forgive my family, so what was I going to do now that I was here? If I could make connections in the Triangle that few others could and move beyond the limitations set on full-blooded Othersiders, why not use that?
The more I thought about it, the more excited I got. I already had a vampire connection in Maria. She seemed the resourceful type. But I couldn’t just let myself be tied to her, or I’d be in the same situation all over again.
Tonight had to be a hunt but a different sort than usual. I needed to network—and for the love of the Goddess, I needed to get laid. Make some kind of connection, however shallow, before loneliness had my social hormones in a full-on crash and I sank into the sort of depression the elf-blooded struggled to come out of.
Odds were that I’d end up with a human, but what if I bumped into a vampire willing to take a risk on a half-elf? I wouldn’t let one glamour me for a one-night stand, but I’d been wondering for ages whether all those years of life had translated into skill in the bedroom.
It was past time to find out.