Hunted By The Others (13 page)

It didn’t take long to find a suitable jacket in the mall. I needed something that would hide the weaponry well enough for me to get my foot in the door and, hopefully, add a little protection while still allowing for freedom of movement. Especially when it came time to draw down, if it came to that.

One of the stores actually had a nice selection of leather trench coats, and I was lucky enough to find an ankle-length black one in my size. I also swung by the shoe store and bought some combat boots. I didn’t normally wear those, but they seemed suitably badass and like they would fit with the jacket and the clothes and the guns. I think. Come on, I’ve never seen a fashion guide that tells you how to accessorize your shoes with your stakes and guns, have you?

We picked up a pizza and sodas on the way back to Sara’s. Once Arnold had parked at Sara’s place and I started to get out, he put a hand on my arm. I paused with one foot resting on the curb.

“Is Sara single?”

I blinked. That was unexpected. “Maybe. She mentioned something yesterday about this cop she’d been seeing. They’re usually on and off. I thought they were off but now I guess they’re on again.”

He nodded before getting out of the car. I watched him for a moment, trying to decide if he was asking me for security reasons or something more personal. Since Veronica was out of the picture, I wondered if that was why he was suddenly interested, and I felt an irrational twinge of jealousy.

Whatever, it wasn’t my problem and he was
not
my type. I don’t knowingly date Others. Not after what happened with Chaz. I hadn’t particularly gone out of my way
not
to before, but I wasn’t one of those thrill seekers that spent all my free time at the bars and restaurants frequented by the local supernaturals either. Plus, even the thought of being contracted gives me the willies. The extent of my experience with Others has led me to believe that the majority of them are deceptive, conniving, and occasionally violent assholes. No offense to any assholes out there.

I held the dogs back while Arnold hustled inside with the food and shopping bags. They barked up a storm as usual and tried to squeeze past me when I hopped up the porch steps and ducked inside.

Sara had set out the pizza and soda, and we all grabbed paper plates, poured some drinks, and settled around the kitchen table. Arnold watched Sara and me with an odd expression as we folded our pizza slices in half before eating them. After a minute or two of this, Sara grinned at him. “What, you’ve never eaten pizza with a New Yorker before?”

I picked a piece of pepperoni off my slice, popping it in my mouth before turning to Sara. “Are you going to use the rabbit ears or should I just carry my cell with me tonight?”

She shrugged, getting up to grab the garlic salt from one of the cabinets. “Probably just your cell. We don’t know what Royce can and can’t hear or sense, so it might be best if you limit the electronics. Just make sure you have me set in your speed dial this time.”

I nodded sheepishly, and Arnold looked mystified. “Rabbit ears?”

“Yeah. Just a nickname for a bug we wear when we speak to someone and think the conversation may require recording or turn ugly. It lets someone else listen in, and that’s mostly what we use it for, in case we need someone to bail us out in a hurry.”

“Ah.”

“What?”

“We use similar tactics at The Circle, except we use charms or familiars, not electronics.”

Oh, that was comforting. At my sudden wary look, he laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry, none were used with you except during your initial meeting with Veronica.”

He took a big bite out of the pizza, all too cheerful about that. It gave me the willies, which decreased my appetite, though not enough to stop me from finishing off the slice I was working on.

“Hey, Shia, no luck on the Borowsky kid,” Sara said. “All I got was a tip from one of his friends that he’s into the Goth and vamp scene, way more than his parents knew. Nothing surprising, nothing helpful. Anyway, you’ve got a few hours ’til sundown. Do you know what you want to do for the rest of the day?”

“Hiding under a rock somewhere sounds good to me.”

Arnold nudged the bags beside the table with his foot. “You should probably put everything on and practice moving in it. If it’s been a while, I’d suggest taking a few practice shots with the gun, too.”

“You really think I’m going to need to use it?” I felt the blood drain from my face. God, I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

His lips curved downward, gaze sliding away from mine. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

Well, worrying about it hadn’t helped anything yet. I resolved to start thinking about what I
could
do instead of how everything could go wrong. At the very least, I could do what he said and try on the clothes, get used to moving in them, and make sure the whole ensemble wouldn’t look too ridiculous when I showed up at Royce’s office.

Wiping my greasy fingers on a crumpled napkin, I got up and gathered the bags, belt, and vial of Amber Kiss perfume.

“I’m heading upstairs to change. Be back in a few minutes.”

They both gave me the thumbs-up, munching on their pizza. I wasn’t hungry, but I’d probably make myself eat another piece later when I was feeling a little more secure. Like after I had some stakes and guns on my person.

It took a minute for me to pull on the new clothes. At first, the turtleneck shirt and pants seemed uncomfortably tight. You could see the slightest bump under the shirt where the charm necklace that let me see through vamp and magi illusions rested against my skin, plastered in my cleavage. I hadn’t removed it since the meeting with Royce, and wasn’t planning on willingly taking it off for as long as I lived.

The shirt covered almost my whole neck, but I noticed that the slick material made it difficult to slide my fingers under it and yank it down lower. After getting over the initial irritation, I realized this was a good thing. It meant Royce would also have a tough time pulling it down enough to reach anything vital. Same with the wrists and ankles, though the pants were just a touch too long and I had to figure out a way to fold the material under so it wouldn’t bunch up in the shoes and irritate my skin.

I took a little time to stretch, reaching down to touch the floor, squat, split, and basically just make sure my freedom of movement wouldn’t be too restricted. Thankfully, the stuff clung like a second skin and wasn’t so stiff that I lost any flexibility. The burning ache in my muscles was a reminder that I’d missed my normal exercise over the weekend and would have to figure out some time to make it up—if I survived tonight’s ordeal.

With the pants tucked into my new combat boots and the silver cross at my neck gleaming against the flat black of the shirt, I had to admit as I examined myself in the full-length mirror, that I did indeed look the part of a vampire hunter. Or maybe a thief. Or a Goth? Yeah, I didn’t like where this train of thought was going.

The shoulder holster was next. I had to fiddle with the straps to adjust them. Then readjust them when I realized I had put it on wrong. Then fiddle with and adjust it a little more so it didn’t dig into my boobs quite so much. What a pain. It would make for an easy cross-draw, though, and the weapons wouldn’t be too conspicuous under the jacket.

The belt came last. I stared at it for a minute, laid out on the guest bed, looking utterly innocuous except for the big-ass silver stakes in their sheaths on one side. The trio of silver stakes had leather grips, worn and stained a dull gray from the sweat of many palms. The belt itself was a dull black that hadn’t yet been bleached by time. On the inside, where it would lay against cloth or skin, I knew it had glyphs branded into it, though I didn’t understand what they were for or what they meant. Putting it on meant it would adhere to me until the next sunrise. It meant I would be knowingly, willingly dipping my fingers into a magic melting pot.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I reached out a trembling hand, praying that the choices I’d made were right and that this thing really would help see me through ’til tomorrow’s sunrise.

There was no flash of light, crackle of magic, or thunder of epic orchestral music from an unseen band in the background when I put the belt on. I half expected something, maybe even just
feeling
a little different.

Absolutely nothing changed once I settled it around my waist, adjusting it so the buckle and a couple of clips of extra rounds hung off one hip and the stakes off the other. I was both relieved and a little disappointed.

If not for the stakes, the outfit wouldn’t look half-bad. A little dark for my taste, definitely not something to wear around the office, but to a club? Maybe. I tied my hair back in a loose ponytail to make sure it would stay out of my face. Then I picked up the duster, figuring I might as well give it a try though it was too hot to wear for long and I certainly wasn’t interested in parading around the house like I’d just stepped off the set of the latest sci-fi action movie.

I reached into the bag and pulled out the pair of wooden boxes that held the guns so I could holster them and see how they “fit” with the outfit. When I lifted the lid of one of the boxes, the first thing that caught my eye was something gleaming white against the red velvet lining.

It was a pin of a tiny white cowboy hat. A White Hat pin. The symbol of their little clique of vigilante vampire and Were hunters.

I stared at it for a minute, trying to figure out why in God’s name it would even be there. The guy, Jack, must have slipped it into the box while he was putting the guns away.

Suddenly I recalled where I had seen him before. The bastard looked a bit different in plain clothes and under bright lights where I could see his features clearly. He was the one who had politely let himself into my bedroom to “ask” me to join the White Hat cause—at knifepoint.

Crap, he must think I’d tracked him down and taken him up on his offer. Did that make me a card-carrying, pin-wearing member now? How did this development fit in with all my other troubles? Were Jack and his buddy planning on coming back?

Ugh. I’d just have to deal with that worry later. I only hoped it didn’t come back to bite me in the ass once that “later” eventually rolled around.

The trench coat worked admirably to hide the weapons. It didn’t do much for my figure when it was buttoned up, but I practiced doing a quick draw of the guns, then the stakes. Everything went almost too smoothly.

With the addition of the jacket on top of the body armor, it was quickly becoming stiflingly hot. Before long I shrugged it off and gathered it up in my arms, leaving the rest of the outfit on so I could get approval from my posse downstairs. On my way down, I debated whether or not to mention the pin to either Sara or Arnold, and decided against it. Things were complicated enough already, and I was reasonably certain I could figure out a way to get the White Hats to leave me alone on my own. Eventually.

The two were in the living room, heads close as they leaned over the contract I’d already signed. I couldn’t hear what they were muttering to each other, but they looked up when I cleared my throat.

Sara grinned and Arnold simply nodded, his brows raised. “It came together better than I thought it would. Can you draw the guns easily?”

I tossed the duster to a chair, then demonstrated the quick draw I’d been practicing upstairs. They both jerked back in surprise, and I laughed.

“Hey, I’m just fooling. But just so you know, they’re not loaded yet
and
the safety’s on. The trench hides everything well, too. I think this might actually work.”

Sara rose with a languorous stretch. She walked over to me and lightly ran her fingertips along my sleeve. “What is this stuff?”

I shrugged. “Some kind of body armor that protects against Were claws and vamp bites apparently. Won’t stop a bullet or a knife thrust, but it should do the trick if Royce goes for my throat.” Or something else. Yikes.

She regarded me thoughtfully for a moment. “And have you decided exactly what your plan of action is once you get into his office? Or what you’ll do if he does attack you?”

“Yes,” I said with more confidence than I felt, “I have. I’m going to show up, try to sweet-talk him into forgetting about the contract. When he refuses, I’ll reluctantly hand the papers over. Then, if he tries anything, I’ll tell him about the changes in the contract and give him a chance to rethink his actions.”

“And if he persists?” Arnold asked. “What then?”

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose with the tips of my fingers. “Then I’ll hit the speed dial on my phone to call you guys and open up the jacket so he knows I’m prepared for and will retaliate against whatever he wants to dish out. Tit for tat.”

“Okay. I’ll wait in the car with Arnold then,” Sara said. Turning to him, she spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “Not that there’s much I can do if we need to go in shooting, but I imagine that’s where you come in.”

He cracked his scrawny knuckles and assumed a menacing look that was more comical than intimidating on his features. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, which didn’t help make him look any more menacing, more like a kid in a candy store.

“Fortunately, unlike you ladies, I won’t have to worry about legal backlash if I go in with guns blazing, so to speak. Other-to-Other battles are still for the most part left up to us to work out amongst ourselves.”

I had to admit to curiosity. “How come you didn’t just do that in the first place? I mean, couldn’t you just, you know…magic missile him or something and save you and The Circle—and me—a lot of trouble?”

“Sadly, no. The political backlash would be more than even The Circle could handle. Aside from which, singly, I’m not really a match for him. However, with you there wearing the belt, the two of us together should be able to handle him. Plus, I won’t have to worry about the stir it would cause since we have witnesses who think you and I are an item. If it looks like I just went in to protect my girlfriend, I won’t have to worry as much about being canned for it later.”

Lovely. I sighed again, folded my arms, realized how uncomfortable that was with the holster on, and unfolded them to leave my hands dangling at my sides. “That’s just peachy keen.”

Turning to Sara, I put my hands on my hips and looked at her questioningly. Usually she thinks of something I haven’t when it comes to planning, so it felt a little odd that she hadn’t added much to the conversation. “Got any other bright ideas about tonight?”

She shook her head, folding her own arms and rocking back on her heels. “You’ve thought up about as much as I have. I can’t think of anything else to do or any other way to handle it.”

My jaw dropped open in shock. I’d thought everything out as much as she had? Now
that
was scary.