The vampire was a tall, slender female with pale blond hair pulled into a long braid. She was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and tight black slacks that made her look like she was stepping off a runway, not trudging through the tough heather and climbing over rocks.
The sight was annoying as hell.
Not only did she hate leeches, but she knew that, in contrast, she must look like crap. She was still wearing the same robe that she had been given in the dungeons beneath the mer-folk castle. Oh, she’d washed it, but it was threadbare and stained and should have been burned weeks ago. Plus she hadn’t brushed her hair since…Hell, she didn’t even know.
Long ago, her hair, the color of crimson, had been her pride and joy. She’d brushed the fiery curls until they tumbled down her back like a river of fire. Now she could barely bother to eat, let alone worry about the sheen of her hair.
Silently cursing at her stupid distraction, Brigette turned her attention to the vampire’s companion.
A male Were.
Surprise, surprise. There might have been an uneasy truce established between the vamps and the pureblood Weres, but as far as she knew, it was rare for either species to tolerate each other, let alone willingly work together.
Her gaze skimmed over the male. He was large, with a shaved head that was currently coated with a fine mist. His body was bulked with muscles that strained against his flannel shirt and jeans. He had on a pair of hiking boots that crunched loudly against the stony ground, and she could catch the scent of metal. He was carrying a gun. Maybe more than one.
It was hard to make out his features in the thick fog that shrouded the area, but she sensed that he was younger than her. She also sensed that he didn’t possess her strength. Not unless he shifted into his wolf, something she didn’t intend to allow.
Coiling her muscles, Brigette soared through the air, landing in front of the Were. The male snarled, but before he could react, Brigette had her silver dagger pressed over his heart.
“If you so much as twitch, I’ll slice open your heart,” she warned.
The male stiffened, his eyes smoldering with a golden fire as his musk blasted through the air.
“Careful, female,” he snarled, baring his teeth, “or I’ll take a bite out of you.”
She pressed the knife hard enough to slice through the flannel shirt and draw blood. “You wanna make this into a pissing contest, bruh?”
“Don’t mind him. He’s an idiot,” an icy female voice drawled.
Brigette glanced toward the leech, careful to keep the knife poised to strike the killing blow.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Maryam.” The female pointed toward her companion. “And this is Roban.”
“A pureblooded Were and a vamp traveling together.” A humorless smile curved Brigette’s lips. “Has hell frozen over?”
Maryam’s pale, beautiful face was set in grim lines. “Not yet, but it’s coming.”
“Really?” Brigette shrugged. “I didn’t get the memo.”
“I’m here to deliver it in person.”
“Lucky me.”
Maryam glanced toward the Were. “Can you release Roban? He’s bleeding all over the place.”
Brigette glanced toward the male, realizing she’d stuck the knife in deeper that she’d thought. The wound wasn’t going to permanently injure him, but the silver in the blade kept him from healing. Which meant that the blood continued to seep through his shirt and dribble down his jeans. And, as a bonus, the silver would keep the Were from shifting into his wolf form.
“I could.” She glanced back at the leech. “I won’t, but I could.”
“Even if I assure you that we come in peace?”
Brigette snorted. The leech sounded like a character from a cheesy horror film. “Especially if you assure me you come in peace.” She pressed the knife a quarter of an inch deeper. The Were grunted in pain, droplets of sweat joining the mist coating his bald head. Brigette wrinkled her nose. He was all moist, and not in a good way. “I’m not asking again. Why are you here?”
Something flashed through the female’s icy blue eyes. Probably fury, maybe heartburn. No. The Were was the one with heartburn. The leech was definitely furious.
Still, Maryam made a commendable effort to control her emotions. “I was looking for you.”
Brigette scowled. There’d been a few brave souls who’d come to the remote village after she’d returned Chaaya and Basq back to Vegas, along with Levet to the mer-folk castle. She didn’t know if they were there to pin a medal on her chest or chop off her head. And she wasn’t going to stick around and find out.
This time, however, she was curious. She wanted to know why this odd couple had invaded her home.
“Did Ulric send you?” she asked.
“No. Although, your cousin is the reason I decided to make you an offer,” Maryam told her.
Brigette narrowed her eyes. “Is it one I can’t refuse?”
The vamp shook her head. “Nothing so dramatic.”
“What’s the offer?”
Maryam glanced toward the Were, who grimaced before nodding his head in some sort of silent agreement. The vampire turned her attention back to Brigette.
“I belong to Chiron’s clan,” she revealed.
“You’re a Rebel?”
“Yes. I traveled with Chiron and Ulric after we were banished by the former Anasso,” Maryam told her. “I considered them my family.”
Chiron was a vampire who owned Dreamscape Resorts, a successful chain of human casinos around the world. He’d also taken over a clan of vampires who had been banished by the former Anasso when their leader, Tarak, had disappeared. Tarak had recently escaped his prison, and there was a new Anasso, and supposedly they’d all come together in one big kumbaya moment.
Ulric was Brigette’s cousin who’d been taken by the goblin raiders that Brigette had led to the village and sold into captivity by the former Anasso. Chiron had rescued him, and they’d formed an unbreakable bond that had lasted the past five hundred years.
The fact that Maryam was a Rebel, however, did nothing to ease her suspicion. If anything, it intensified her distrust. Ulric had more reason than anyone else in the world to want her dead.
Ah, families…so much fun.
“Is there a point to this?” Brigette drawled. “Or are we just reminiscing about the good old days? I’ll warn you, my good old days included lots of blood and screaming.”
“I want you to know that I consider Ulric my friend.”