Deadly Pursuit (A Blood Hunter Novel, #2) (27 page)

Chapter
Six

They
took
one
of
Bastion’s
speeders
into
Pleasure
City,
dropped
Tannis
and
Skylar
off
on
the
outskirts
to
visit
the
shipyards
and
find
the
spare
parts
they
needed
to
repair
El
Cazador
,
before
taking
Janey
and
Daisy
to
the
shopping
district
to
stock
up
on
supplies.

Jon
sat
beside
Rico
as
they
continued
into
the
heart
of
the
city,
the
speeder
gradually
slowing
to
a
crawl
as
the
traffic
grew
heavier.
After
five
minutes
of
sitting
in
the
tail
fumes
of
an
ancient
speeder-cab,
Rico
swerved
into
a
parking
space.

“Come
on,
we’ll
make
better
time
on
foot.”

Jon
climbed
out
and
was
instantly
assaulted
by
the
incessant
clamor.
Noise
crashed
into
him
from
every
side,
the
raucous
cries
of
street
vendors,
the
roar
of
speeders,
the
low
throb
of
music
spilling
out
from
the
clubs
and
bars
lining
the
street.
Even
the
air
crowded
in
on
him,
thick
with
the
stench
of
fumes
and
too
many
people,
liberally
mixed
with
a
nauseating
fusion
of
every
type
of
food
available
to
man.

Psychedelic
lights
flashed,
making
his
head
spin.

“Don’t
you
love
this
place?”
Rico
said.
“It’s
so
alive.”

“No.”
Jon
hated
the
place.
He’d
spent
a
considerable
amount
of
time
doing
business
here,
and
each
time
he
visited,
he
hated
it
a
little
more.
A
sudden
longing
for
the
forests
and
mountains
of
his
home
planet
washed
over
him—the
clean
air,
the
silence
of
the
nights.
He
hadn’t
been
back
since
his
pack
was
slaughtered,
and
he
rarely
allowed
himself
to
think
of
the
place.

He
closed
his
eyes
and
pinched
the
bridge
of
his
nose,
trying
to
ease
the
pressure
in
his
head.
When
he
opened
them,
he
found
Rico
watching
him.

“Let’s
get
this
over
with,”
Jon
said.

“One
thing
first,”
Rico
replied.
He
reached
back
into
the
speeder
and
handed
a
weapons
belt
to
Jon.
“You
might
need
it.
I
don’t
want
to
have
to
protect
you
if
things
go
bad.”

Jon
took
the
belt,
strapped
it
on,
and
felt
instantly
better
with
his
hand
resting
on
the
pistol.
Pleasure
City
was
not
a
place
to
be
unarmed.

“Just
don’t
shoot
me
with
it,”
Rico
said.
“It
won’t
kill
me,
but
it
will
piss
me
off.
Now
where
are
we
headed?”

Jon
had
commed
a
few
people,
so
he
had
a
good
idea
where
to
find
his
contact.
As
long
as
no
one
had
warned
the
traitor.
Deke
was
a
slimy
bastard
and
liable
to
slither
away
if
he
caught
wind
someone
was
asking
about
him.
“A
bar
called
The
Longest
Night.”

“I
know
it.
Let’s
get
this
done
and
get
back
to
the
ship.”

The
sidewalks
were
thick
with
people,
but
the
mass
parted
as
he
and
Rico
approached,
giving
them
plenty
of
space.
Jon
glanced
sideways
at
the
vampire.
It
wasn’t
obvious
what
he
was,
but
it
was
obvious
he
was
dangerous.
A
dark
aura
hung
about
him—he
radiated
a
barely
restrained
power.

“Look
at
that.”
Rico
pointed
up
at
the
wall.

A
flashing
sign
filled
the
whole
of
one
side
of
a
three-story
building.
It
took
Jon
a
second
to
realize
he
was
staring
at
a
huge
image
of
Al
in
her
priestess
persona.

“They
really
do
want
her
back,”
Rico
murmured.
“Who
would
have
thought
it?”

“Maybe
you
should
send
her
back.
She
would
be
safer.”

Rico
shrugged,
and
they
walked
on.
“I’m
not
in
the
business
of
making
people
safe.
If
Al
wants
to
be
safe,
she
knows
what
to
do.”

Jon’s
life
would
be
easier
if
she
went
back
to
the
Church.
For
some
reason,
Al
clouded
his
thinking.
And
right
now,
a
vague
worry
niggled
at
his
mind.
They
all
thought
Al
was
quiet
and
obedient.
That
she’d
do
as
she
was
told
and
stay
on
the
ship.
But
Jon
knew
the
obedience
thing
was
an
act,
like
the
cabin
boy
disguise.
And
she
was
a
good
actor.
Except
when
her
eyes
gave
her
away.
He’d
seen
her
reckless
streak,
and
he
didn’t
think
she
had
the
common
sense
to
stay
out
of
the
vampire’s
way.
Maybe
she
even
believed
Bastion
was
the
answer
to
losing
that
virginity
she
seemed
to
find
so
onerous.
But
surely
even
she
wouldn’t
be
that
stupid.
Would
she?

This
was
exactly
the
reason
he
hadn’t
wanted
anything
to
do
with
her.
He
didn’t
want
to
worry
about
anyone
but
himself.
He
wasn’t
any
good
at
looking
after
other
people.
They
tended
to
die
on
his
watch,
and
he
wasn’t
going
to
let
that
happen
again.

“You
want
me
to
wait?”

He
realized
he’d
come
to
a
standstill
in
the
middle
of
the
busy
street.
Rico
was
watching
him,
one
eyebrow
raised.

“What?”

Rico
nodded
to
a
window
where
a
pleasure
provider
sat,
showing
off
her
wares.
Jon
hadn’t
even
noticed
the
woman.

“You
seem
pretty
tense.
Perhaps
you
could
do
with
a
little
relaxation.”

Jon
had
nothing
against
them.
They
provided
a
service—one
he
had
used
often
in
the
past.
But
he
looked
at
the
woman
and
felt
nothing.
No
stab
of
desire.
It
would
be
easier
if
he
did.

“Fuck
off.”

He
strode
off
and
heard
Rico’s
low
laughter
behind
him.
“Fucking
vampire,”
he
muttered
under
his
breath.
Just
because
he
was
getting
it
regular…

“So
what
planet
do
you
come
from?”
Rico
asked.

“Why
the
hell
do
you
care?”

Rico
shrugged.
“Just
trying
to
make
conversation.”

“Well,
don’t
bother.”

They
walked
in
silence.
This
time
it
was
Rico
who
stopped.
“This
one
I
insist
on,”
he
said.

They’d
come
to
a
halt
outside
a
clothing
shop.
Jon
peered
down
at
himself.
He
never
really
thought
much
about
what
he
wore
unless
he
was
cold.

“You
look
like
a
complete
dork,”
Rico
pointed
out.
“It’s
not
good
for
my
image
to
be
seen
with
you.”

Twenty
minutes
later,
they
stepped
outside.
Jon
dressed
in
dark
pants
and
a
shirt,
adding
a
black
trench
coat
that
covered
his
weapons.
He’d
also
ordered
a
whole
load
of
stuff
to
be
sent
to
the
ship.

“Now
can
we
get
on
with
what
we
came
here
to
do?”

The
Longest
Night
bar
stood
on
the
corner
of
two
of
the
seediest
streets.
Inside
the
lights
and
the
music
were
low,
and
the
place
was
almost
empty.
It
was
a
relief
to
be
away
from
the
crowds
and
noise.

Rico
surveyed
the
bar.
“I
miss
alcohol,”
he
murmured.

“Alcohol?”

“An
old
Earth
drink—banned
in
the
twenty-first
century.”

As
they
approached
the
bar,
the
bartender
glanced
up.
Small
and
pretty,
her
glance
darted
between
the
two
of
them
as
though
she
couldn’t
decide
which
one
of
them
was
the
safer
to
speak
to.
Finally,
her
gaze
settled
somewhere
between
them.

“What
can
I
get
you?”

“I
want
to
see
Deke,”
Jon
answered.

Her
gaze
shot
to
his
face,
but
her
shocked
expression
was
quickly
blanked
out.

“No
one
here
by
that
name.”
She
flashed
him
a
patently
false
smile.

Jon
leaned
across
the
bar
and
allowed
a
low
growl
to
escape
his
throat.
She
stepped
back
as
far
as
she
could,
which
wasn’t
very
far.

“Just
comm
him
and
tell
him
Jon
is
here
and
wants
to
talk.”

As
she
looked
from
him
to
Rico,
her
eyes
widened.
Jon
glanced
sideways
and
saw
the
vampire
was
smiling,
one
sharp
white
fang
in
view.

The
hand
she
lifted
shook
visibly
as
she
pointed
at
a
black
doorway
across
the
bar.

“Thank
you,”
Rico
said.
“And
I’ll
have
one
of
those.”
He
reached
out
a
hand,
and
she
jumped.
But
he
only
picked
up
one
of
the
pinkies—the
popular
recreational
drugs
most
bars
offered—from
the
bar
and
popped
it
into
his
mouth.
“Want
one?”
he
asked
Jon.

Jon
shuddered
as
they
turned
to
head
to
the
back
of
the
bar.
“No—those
things
will
kill
you.”

Rico
grinned.
“I
doubt
it.
Come
on.
So
who
is
this
guy
we’re
seeing.
How
does
he
fit
in?”

“Deke’s
a
facilitator.
People
go
to
him
when
they
want
something
done
and
he
acts
as
a
sort
of
middleman.
He
set
up
the
Ross
job.”

“Is
he
likely
to
know
who
employed
you?”

“Maybe.
Though
he
might
need
a
little
persuasion
to
part
with
the
information.
His
reputation
relies
on
him
keeping
his
mouth
closed.”

“Well,
we’ll
have
open
it
for
him.”
Rico
rubbed
his
hands
together
with
obvious
excitement,
and
Jon’s
own
pulse
picked
up,
all
his
senses
heightening
in
anticipation
of
the
action
to
come.

The
door
was
solid
metal.
Jon
studied
it,
considered
blasting
his
way
through,
but
as
he
pulled
out
his
pistol,
the
two
sides
slid
open
to
reveal
a
brightly
lit
office.
Jon
stepped
inside
with
Rico
beside
him.

A
huge
desk
dominated
the
room,
dwarfing
the
man
sitting
on
the
other
side.
Jon
did
a
quick
check
of
the
rest
of
the
room.
It
was
empty,
but
at
that
moment,
four
men
pushed
in
behind
them
and
arranged
themselves
around
the
room.
They
were
heavily
armed,
and
Jon
had
no
doubt
they
were
bodyguards.
But
odds
of
two
to
one
seemed
fair
to
him—no
way
would
Deke
join
in
if
this
degenerated
into
a
fight.
He
doubted
Deke
had
ever
gotten
his
hands
dirty
or
bruised
in
his
life.

The
man
rose
to
his
feet
behind
the
large
desk.
He
wasn’t
much
taller
than
Al,
with
a
slender
frame,
dark
hair
in
a
ponytail,
and
a
sly
expression.