Page 4 of Immortal Hunter
Ewan accepted the key and ducked through the door, and then he was alone. It only took him five minutes to unpack his bag, and he slid his sheathed knife under the pillow and tucked the silver chain under the bed. Some habits weren’t so easy to break.
Peering out the window, he watched a handful of people making their way up and down the street. He still had several hours until he needed to start his shift. Perhaps he’d find another pub across town and talk to the day drinkers. They always had the best information.
In between searching for a job and learning the town, he’d listened. Parked himself in a different pub each night, nursing a single beer and chatting up as many people as he could. As far as he could tell, the Hunters didn’t have a foothold in this town. Maybe…he’d be safe here for a while. Maybe even long enough to get some forged papers. Because if the Hunters found him, he’d have to run. As far and as fast as he could.
* * *
The day passed quickly,and by the time he returned to his room before his shift, he was almost at ease. This town felt…right. Peaceful. Especially this close to the docks. The men and women he’d encountered were all hardworking, honest, and best of all,human.
He’d picked up several black shirts and three pairs of black pants with the last of his money, and slipped behind the bar a little before 5:00 p.m. Though he’d never mixed a single drink, Alfie had a cheat sheet of the most common recipes taped to the cabinet, just out of the customers’ sight.
He could handle this. Whiskey sours, vodka tonics, sledgehammers, and bloody marys. Not that complicated.
After half an hour, Ewan feared he’d been wrong. Patrons filled every seat at the bar and every table. He’d poured so many pints, his hands ached, and he’d been yelled at four times for mixing up vodka and gin. The bottles were just too feckin’ similar.
Despite the exhaustion and pain, Ewan was having the time of his life. This was honest work. The type of job that wouldn’t leave him unable to sleep at night, or with blood on his hands—unless he broke another glass. If he did, Alfie might just kill him.
* * *
Kára
The fog tumbled onto the docks from the sea, enveloping her in a thick, white cloak. This time of night, she moved unnoticed through the streets of St. John’s, watching and listening.
The entire island of Newfoundland held only half a million people. St. John’s…less than a hundred thousand. But more than a third were…something other than human.
A growl sounded from across the town square. Low, feral, desperate. Kára set off at a run, her vampire speed taking her a quarter of a mile in under a minute. Shadows moved in an alley, and the growl turned into a whine, then a yelp, then…nothing. A shifter. Coyote from the sound of it.
There. Blood painted the old stone wall, and a shadow took off—too quickly to be anything other than another vampire.
“Jævel!”Kára swore as she streaked to the far end of the alley. The black-clad figure was gone. Turning to the shifter, she checked his pulse. He’d only made it halfway through his transformation. Fur covered his back, legs, and arms, his snout had elongated, but his neck…his neck was still very much that of a man.
The twin puncture marks sent a shiver down Kára’s spine. Another vampire in St. John’s would shatter the peace the Coven had brokered fifty years ago with the Byrne Vampire Clan. Mason Byrne, the clan’s leader, had agreed that no vampire other than Kára would ever walk the streets of St. John’s as long as the Canadian Hunters kept their ilk out of Newfoundland completely. Kára had only been allowed to stay because she’d lived in the town for a century prior.
Reaching down, she closed the coyote shifter’s eyes. “I am sorry, my friend. You should have been safe here.” Now, she’d have to go visit the coven. Worse, she’d have to tell Vesper that her instincts had been correct. The witch would be insufferable after that. But first, the shifter deserved a proper funeral.
* * *
Kára’sold truck sputtered and kicked up black smoke as she gunned the engine. Her vampire speed and strength meant she rarely needed to drive, but this task required privacy. She’d wrapped the shifter’s body in an old blanket and laid him gently in the vehicle’s bed before assembling her supplies. Wood, ropes, kerosene, and a branch of sage.
An hour later, she parked next to a solitary strip of sand at the edge of the water. Lashing the wood together with long sections of rope, she built a raft just big enough for the shifter’s body. The sage, she tucked under his paws, and then after a moment of silence, she very carefully splashed kerosene over the body.
Once the raft floated on the calm waters, she lit the bit of rag hanging from the neck of the bottle of Aquavit, then tossed it onto the dead shifter.
The pyre burned until the moon had risen to its apex, and Kára sighed. If she wanted a drink tonight—and shevery muchwanted a drink—she’d need to hurry to get to McCann’s Pub before it closed.
* * *
A muttered curseescaped her lips as she pushed through the door. The pub was packed. A fishing boat must have come in. Or three. Dirty, bedraggled, drunk men—and a few women—caroused while a new bartender tried to keep up. Kára studied him from the edge of the room. He had a confidence about him she’d rarely seen in humans, but he didn’t move like one of her kind either.
If he was a vampire…he was newly made, and that gave Kára another reason for drinking. He’d lack control. Washethe one who’d killed the shifter?
Kára pressed through the crowd, using her glamour here and there until she’d garnered a seat at the far corner of the bar.
It took the handsome young man ten minutes to reach her, and his cheeks turned pink as he approached. “I’m sorry, lass. I dinna see ya’ there. What can I get for ya’?”
“Three shots of whiskey. Neat.” Kára studied him, unwilling to glamour him until she knew how he’d react. He swiped a rag over the wood, and she sensed the heat of his skin. Definitely not a vampire.
“For such a little thing? I’m not allowed to over serve, and it’s me first night. Can ya’ start out with a double?” He offered her a wary smile, but his eyes narrowed like he was studying her as much as she was studying him.
