Hunting My Beloved

SADIE -

I checked my watch before eyeing the last werewolf group that waited for their Alpha. Six of them sat around a table, laughing and joking.

Only three had picked up a pleasure mate for the night, and they were waiting for their Alpha who was somewhere behind a curtain in the VIP section with the human woman he'd brought with him. His pack looked bored and restless. They’d abandoned the dartboards and pool tables about an hour ago, and my skin itched as I waited for them to leave.

1:30 a.m. Just thirty more minutes, Sadie.

I told myself before swiping once more over the polished wood. The counter gleamed in the blue lights behind the bar.

“Can you believe this?” the human woman at the bar asked, pointing at the TV that was playing behind me. “If I had that kind of money, I wouldn’t be spending it on some stupid charity.”

She gestured to the screen before taking a sip from her vodka and cranberry. I’d zoned it out hours ago, but the moment my eyes landed on it, my hand stilled on the counter.

A man with long blonde hair and piercing green eyes was talking with a reporter. The mic was up close to his mouth, and his high-dollar suit caught the bright light of the film crew as he fiddled with his cufflinks.

The station was replaying coverage from Meridian Grove’s annual gala, where red curtains and familiar high rollers crowded the carpet behind him.

The way he held his mouth as the reporter spoke made my fingers curl against the bar. As I watched, something low inside my stomach flipped over, and my breath caught.

Not understanding my pull, I grabbed the controller under the bar and turned the volume up.

“Mr. Dobrev, you’ve made another historic donation to the Meridian Nightfall Foundation tonight. Why this foundation? Why this cause?” the reporter asked him.

He responded immediately, and although I wasn’t sure why, it made my blood run warm. “Meridian Grove is my home. What happens within it concerns me, and fear is bad for business. People don’t invest in a city where they don't feel safe.”

“Safe?” the woman at the bar scoffed into her drink. “This place isn’t safe. Just yesterday, a Fangfilth attacked another group of humans, and the police aren’t doing shit. He’s just wasting his money.”

My hand paused mid-swipe as a frown pulled at my mouth.

Words like Fangfilth and Moonmutt were only used by humans who were too scared or too naïve to ask questions. Even a Venari like me, born from a bloodline created to hunt supernaturals, refused to use terms like that.

The mention of the attack reminded me that I had files back home to go through for the consultation job I was working for the Supernatural Crimes Division. Between the attack and the slur, whatever patience I had left for her disappeared.

“We’re closing. Time to settle your tab.” I said, not trying to hide the disdain in my tone.

“Pfft. Whatever," she scoffed again, but pulled a bill from her purse and tossed it on the table. “Keep the change, Spawn lover.”

“Why come to a supernatural bar if you think so poorly of them?” I couldn’t help but ask as she started to turn.

She just rolled her eyes and left, her dark hair trailing behind her like a curtain.

“Vasiliy Dobrev remains Meridian Grove’s most eligible bachelor, and tonight’s record-breaking donation to the Meridian Nightfall Foundation is expected to draw even more attention to the already elusive billionaire.”

The anchor’s voice pulled my attention back to the television.

The camera caught him from behind as he walked away from the reporter, his broad shoulders filling out the black jacket like it had been made for him.

The pretty reporter turned back toward the camera with flushed cheeks and a smile that said she knew exactly what every woman watching was thinking.

“What do you think?” she asked the camera. “Do the rumors surrounding Mr. Dobrev’s alleged mafia connections make him more dangerous, or more interesting? And with his name recently linked to the Riverside missing-persons investigation, some are asking what else the Bloodless Count is hiding behind old money and a very generous... checkbook. This is Rose Calloway with Meridian 5.”

Bloodless Count? I thought as a chill slid up my back, and I felt the goosebumps before they prickled along my skin.

Growing up with my hunter family and training to kill raging vampires, I’d heard that name before, whispered in dark corners of the Mercer training grounds.

A vampire rumored never to feed from the living, and one of the oldest still active on the continent, was the kind of mystery Hunters never stopped talking about.

I’d never seen his face before, and those eyes had stuck in my mind. I kept my gaze on the TV, trying to get another glimpse of them, but the reporter continued interviewing other guests at the gala.

“I didn’t take you for a newsy, Sadie.” A voice from the other side of the bar had me spinning so fast that the controller flew into the air before clattering to the floor.

Bennet stood on the other side with a folder tucked under his arm and the usual light smile curling up the sides of his lips.

“Bennet!” I blurted, feeling the heat of embarrassment hit my cheeks as I bent and snatched up the controller from the tile floor. “What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too,” he said, rubbing ‌the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Sorry. I was just…” I flicked my eyes back to the TV to turn it down before I dropped the controller back under the counter. When I turned back to him, his brown eyes were soft as he waited for me to finish. “Nevermind. Actually, I’m about to start closing.”

I jerked my chin at the werewolf group before I moved down the counter to finish packing up the ice.

Bennet followed on the other side of the bar.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you.” I said as I slid the lid closed and locked the machine.

“Yea.” He said, dropping the file on the bar top and leaning his elbows onto the wood surface. “Well, I wanted to drop off another file for the…” His eyes slid over to the table before he lowered his voice. “The Feral case.”

“Another one? Is this from the attack yesterday?” The woman’s words from earlier slid back through my mind as I reached out and opened the file.

The first photograph showed enough blood and torn flesh to make my stomach tighten. Papers were clipped to the other side and looked like Bennet's report on the case.

I closed it with a thump and slid it into my bag behind the counter.

“I’ll take a look at it when I get home.”

“If you want…” he shrugged one shoulder as he spoke. “I could drive you home. You won’t need to snag an Uber.”

I looked toward the werewolves. “You’re here because you think I can’t get home by myself?”

Before he could answer, the curtain to the VIP room shifted. The Alpha stepped out with the human girl tucked against his side, his hand low on her hip.

My fingers tightened around the edge of the bar.

“Do you want me to call you a ride?” I asked her directly as they passed by.

Her gaze met mine and held. “No. I’m good.”

The Alpha’s mouth curved, but the look he gave me was anything but friendly. “Relax, girl. I’d never force…” he paused, flicking his gaze to Bennet before coming back to me. “A human.”

Bennet straightened beside the bar, and for one second, every werewolf at the table went quiet.

Then the Alpha clicked his tongue. “We’re leaving.”

The pack rose in a lazy wave of muscle and laughter. One of them paused near the door and looked back at me. “See you later, girlie,” he said, disappearing through the door.

Bennet’s phone buzzed. When he glanced at the screen, his frown deepened.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Another incident,” he murmured.

“Go,” I said. “I’ll text you when I’m home.”

“I’d rather call you a car,” Bennet said.

“I already have one coming.” His eyes narrowed because we both knew I was lying, but his phone buzzed again.

His eyes flicked to it before coming back to me. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

He waited until I nodded before he turned and left.

By the time I shut off the last blue light behind the bar, the TV had moved on from the gala, but Vasiliy Dobrev’s green eyes were still burned into the back of my mind, mingling with the gore that waited for me in the file.

I told myself it was the case that made my stomach twist as I locked the door behind me.

Not him.