Raised in Fire (Demon Days, Vampire Nights World Book 2)(7)

“You’ve just seen the horror of violence in action, and you’re eager to go kill something?”

“Is that a trick question? Because I feel like you should know the answer to that based on my personality…”

“Fine. Whatever. Okay, so you’ll be going into the heat of battle. That’s your job. You signed on to be the front line—”

“I’m not complaining,” I said, patting my gun. “I’m in it to win it.”

“You’re worrying me.”

“Wise. What should I expect?” Not that it really mattered. I’d run right at the beastie with a snarl turned smile regardless of how vile it was. That was what I did. It was what I excelled at.

Hell, it was why MLE had hired me. We both climbed into the car.

“If we are being called, it has tried to feed. They like intestines the best, I’ve read, and will move from person to person if they have the option, getting their fill. They like preying on the weak.”

She leveled me with a serious look from behind the wheel. “They are hard to kill, Reagan. You have to stab it in the back with a sword.”

“How is that hard to kill? Sounds pretty easy to me.”

“Not as easy as you’d think. They can shape-shift. Some might look like large wolves. Others might turn into a flock of birds. They travel extremely quickly, almost as fast as a vampire, I’ve read. And they spook easily, taking flight or running when they think they’re outnumbered or can’t get an easy feed.”

“Got it. I need to be quick like a bunny, so I can stick a sword in the creature’s back before it flies away.”

She blew out a frustrated breath and checked her phone. A glance at the address told me we were headed into the heart of the French Quarter. Talk about easy prey. Get a drunk person, of which there were a great many, on their own, and the creature could have its fill.

“If it bites or scratches you while in its humanoid form,” Clarissa continued, stepping on the gas, “you’ll die if I don’t get to you fast enough.

They kill really easily.”

I doubted it. I was absolved from most evil, especially the demon variety.

Daddy Dearest had given me a lot of his powerful gifts. Not like I could tell her that. I’d just have to hide any wounds I took until they healed over.

“Okay, then. Don’t get killed, move quickly, and kill the thing.” I nodded decisively and entwined my fingers in my lap. The adrenaline pulsed in my blood now, something that would make me as fast as a vampire, increase my strength, and keep me moving. I was made for action, not a cubicle.

“You really are crazy,” she muttered. “Or ignorant of the extreme danger you’re about to face.”

“Neither. I’m just good at my job.” And a different breed—literally— than the others in the MLE office.

In the French Quarter, she tried to navigate around the milling crowds, jeering and laughing as they swigged drinks and slung beads.

“It’ll take us forever to get through here,” she said, pounding on the wheel.

I fired a quick text message to Smokey. Working. What’s up?

Almost immediately I got a message back. Supernatural creature was in cemetery. Eating stomach. Changes into flock of birds. It’s gone now, but might come back. Tourist just found it. Cops called.

“Oh man,” I said. “That thing made a stop across the street from my house. That ain’t right.”

“It did?” Clarissa asked with wide eyes, her gaze dipping to my phone.

“Yeah. This just got personal.”

I reached for the door handle.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“It’ll be faster on foot. The captain gave me coordinates.”

“But wait, I didn’t tell you about—”

I jumped from the car, shut the door behind me, and hit the hood twice, telling her I was clear. I would figure out whatever it was she hadn’t told me.

Before now, I’d always had very little information when I went in hot. The outcome was usually the same—tag and bag my mark.

I jogged along the sidewalk, weaving in and out of people and keeping my eyes open. Some supernatural creatures could hide in plain sight. Since I hadn’t confronted this particular creature before, there was no telling what it might surprise me with.

I crossed Bourbon Street. There were way too many people there. Instead, I worked toward the slower areas near the sighting. I wasn’t actually far from Darius’s home in the Brink. Ghost and vampire tours would be meandering around, not to mention people staggering home or heading to their lodgings.

For a supernatural, it was a good place for a little dinner.

I turned down a quieter street, dodged a horse and carriage carrying a man explaining French Quarter architecture to two tourists, and slowed.

Laughter, a shout, and someone talking too loudly drifted toward me. Shoes scuffed against cement. Someone belched. Welcome to New Orleans, where the party never ended. My kinda town.

I gripped the hilt of my sword and pulled it free, ignoring the surprised expression from a passerby. There was no need of a gun or even magic. If the creature needed a sword to the back, by golly, who was I to say boo?

I walked a ways, not hearing anything foreign. No screams. No flocking birds. I typed a message to the captain, asking for new coordinates.