Page 123 of Bloodhunter

I didn’t really care if they wanted to stick a cape on me,and I didn’t care about the dying vampires. I cared about getting Angus home,and I cared about getting the supernaturals back into the good graces of thehumans.

So I’d agreed to be on TV. The city needed to know thesupernats were innocent—and I’d hoped it might help me free Angus.

They needed a hero? Fine. I could play a monster, and Icould play a hero.

Rhys had handed me half a bottle of painkillers and wrappedsome bandages around the worst of my injuries, and I’d stood in front of thecameras and microphones, bloody and scarred and smelling of death. I’d told thecity about the fight. I’d made it as frightening as possible, and I’d made surethey knew that without the help of the supernaturals, I’d have died and theinfecteds would have infiltrated the city.

I weaved a story about the incubus that wasn’t entirelyuntrue, and I told them how the supernaturals had destroyed him. How one ofthem had allowed himself to become possessed so he could control thenightmarish demon. I’d embellished a lot, lied a bit, cried a little, and I’dheard there was already a movie in the works.

I’d turned Angus into a handsome, tragic hero, a man who, intrying to protect his children, had been beaten and burned and tortured. By thetime I was finished, most of the crowd was in tears and others were clenchingtheir fists in anger at the injustice of it all. Angus wasn’t exactly astranger to them, and neither were his children. They’d cried, and then they’d gottenangry, and yells of“set him free!”had begun.

Still, Angus was in jail.

He’d hurt cops, after all. And no matter what hismotivations might have been, he’d have to pay for that.

But if he went to prison, it wouldn’t be for long.

I had to believe that.

And I had to believe he’d heal.

“How are you?” Crawford asked, settling behind his desk.“You want some coffee?”

“No, thanks. And I’m fine.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I can see you’re not exactly fine.But better.”

“Better than Angus,” I said.

He nodded. “Everyone is better than Angus, even the threemen he nearly killed. Luckily for him.”

“What did you need, Captain?” I asked, crossing my legs.

“Frank,” he said, absently, and studied me for a good twominutes before finally sighing and yanking open one of his desk drawers. “I oweyou for the tracking job you did for me.” He tossed me a thick yellow envelope.“You’re not going to be lacking for work, Trinity.”

I patted the envelope. “Thanks.”

He shifted in his seat and frowned at me. “I’d like you toget some training in criminal recovery. Take some classes. Become licensed.”

“Criminal recovery?” I asked. “You want me to become abounty hunter?”

He shrugged. “I’d just feel better about sending you outthere if you knew what you were doing.”

I stiffened, just a little insulted. “I’ve killed dozens ofvampires and I’m still alive.”

“You don’t know how to deal with human criminals. You’re avampire hunter.”

“Bloodhunter,” I said, as though maybe he’dforgotten. “And I do know what I’m doing.”

“You know how to kill vampires with your fancy sword. But withthe vampires dying, things will become much more specialized for you.” Heleaned forward. “Can you track people, too, Trinity?”

I thought about it. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“That’s something you need to figure out.”

“There’s a lot I need to figure out.” It was my turn tohesitate. “Captain, Angus Stark—”

“It’s out of my hands. There’s nothing I can do but try tomake sure he’s treated well while he’s under my care.”