Page 27 of Beautiful Madness

So when Detective Moreno calledme, I almost didn’t answer.

But I forced myself to slow,thankful that some of the awful energy had dissipated, and I took the call.

“Kait,” he said. “Lately all Ido is call you with bad news.”

I blew out a hard, somewhatshaky breath, then another, trying to slow my pulse and lower the volume ofblood thundering through my veins. “I’m listening.”

“A call came in about an hourbefore dark. There was a disturbance behind a woman’s house—three peopleappeared to be fighting, and she recognized one of the men as her neighbor fromacross the street. We have him in custody. The other two men were gone when wegot there.”

“Okay,” I said, not sure why hewas calling me about three brawling humans. “Go on.”

“I want you to come down andlook at the guy we picked up.”

“Rick, I’m a little busy tryingto track daywalkers and find my mi—”

“Just a look, Kait,” heinterrupted. “I think he might have turned into one of your daywalkers.”

“Dammit,” I said, alreadyjogging in the direction of the police station. “I’m on my way.”

I’d known the daywalkers could turnhumans and turn them fast. I’d seen Avis turn a human in seconds. Butdaywalkers were subtle and slippery, and they didn’t want to draw attention tothemselves. Not yet. Not until their numbers were greater and they were less atrisk of being hunted and killed by every other creature in existence.

And maybe they were waiting togrow their power before they challenged the entire world—starting withJakeston.

As I ran down the city streetsand sidewalks, dodging thick traffic, lost spirits, and impatient pedestrians,two things smacked me between the eyes. One, I no longer loved hunting alone. Imissed my crew—even Remy.

Two, daywalkers were near.

The scent went from light andalmost flowery to abruptly clogging my nostrils, filling my brain, and coatingmy throat. It was bad, and it was strong. It took me a few seconds to get usedto it, and at first, all I wanted to do was get away from it. It was likeshoving my nose into a burrow of scared skunks.

I felt surrounded and indanger, and my gut was signaling me to either run or fight—and I wasn’trunning. My blade was in my hand, but I didn’t remember yanking it from itssheath. I turned in a circle, my breath whooshing from my lungs, on high alert,every sound, sight, taste, and scent a thousand times stronger and more vividthan usual.

People hurrying down thesidewalks scattered, but I paid no attention to them. Then the din of the citydimmed to background noise, the people became little more than dark shadows inmy peripheral, and I zoomed my focus in on only one thing. My prey.

And like a bloodhound who’dsuddenly picked up his scent, I had the trail. Gleeful and bloodthirsty, I letmy nose lead me, sure that scent was going to take me straight to the mutantvampires.

I was right.

When I felt someone beside meand jerked my head around to look, I found Bastien there, his eyes narrow,wearing the same look of concentration that was surely on my own face.

He’d been following me—and Iwasn’t upset by that fact. I was glad to have the company. I knew Remy would beroaming the city as well, looking for me, but I couldn’t have slowed down forhim. I didn’t have to slow down for Bastien.

“You have their scent?” I askedhim, surprised.

Bastien was dressed as befittedthe vampire master of a county, in a beautiful dark grey suit and a blood-redshirt, and even with the awful scent of the daywalkers foremost in my mind, thesubtle, expensive scent of his cologne soothed my battered mind.

He shook his head, his darkhair sliding over his shoulders. “No. But I have yours.”

The bite had given him morethan I wanted him to have, and there was nothing I could do about it. I’d goneto him willingly, and I’d known the risks.

He stayed beside me as Ifollowed the daywalkers’ trail, as silent as a shadow. We slipped down reekingalleyways, past dark clumps of homeless men and women huddled under whatevershelter they’d found, behind tall buildings, some of them well-lit andoccupied, some of them silent and somehow sinister.

And even when other daywalkerscents tried to tempt me to veer off my path, I did not. Iwouldfollowthem, but later. One daywalker at a time, one group of daywalkers at a time. Ihad them now, and I would hunt them down and kill every last one of them.

I found my targets abruptly,and for a few seconds, despite my need to burst into their midst and beginripping off body parts, I watched them. There were four of the bastards, andthey silently feasted upon what appeared to be two human females, passing themback and forth and sharing their meal like fucking vultures pecking at rottingroadkill.

The darkness was thick, but notthick enough to defeat a wolf’s vision—the lights of the city didn’t quitereach back here, but it didn’t matter. I saw them. I felt them. And dear God, didI smell them.

The scent was like a physicalpain, and I needed to dig it from my brain and destroy it so I could feelbetter. My wolf wanted to claw her way out and kill them herself, but I didn’tshift—because even more than the wolf, the woman wanted to end the bastards. Iwanted it so badly I could taste it.