Fatal Sight (Harbingers Of Death Book 2) by LeAnn Mason (book club reads .TXT) 📕

Never trust an appearance of innocence or surrender. Not until your opponent is incapacitated or removed from the situation can you relax. Innocuousness is a valuable disarming tool that many will use on you. It can also be a good tool for you to employ.

But was that true for vamps? The ol’ ball-popper didn’t work. What else didn’t apply to the undead? “What did you do to her?” I asked, teeth clenched.

His expression was incredulous. “My, you really don’t know anything. We heard tell of a banshee we’d missed. And we’d wondered how. But now I am beginning to comprehend, given how little you know about the supernatural world. About druids. And vampires.” He flashed his teeth. Must have a good dentist. “Tell me, how old are you?”

“None of your business.” My temper flared. I didn’t appreciate him calling me ignorant even if I agreed. My parents had taught me some but never as truth. The HDPU had given me more education. None of them had prepared me for this.

Damn it, Seke, all those lessons and sparring practices with the team, and not one directive for handling the actual enemy — a soul trapped on this plane?!

This bastard was loving his “trapped” existence. Were they all like that? Did they wake up like “I’m going to be a blood-sucking dickbag!” the moment they reopened their black eyes into a stolen life?

The vamp closed said black eyes and sniffed the air again. “Twenty-two? No, twenty-three.” The smile that settled on his blood-stained lips was tinged with self-satisfaction… and malice. “So young. Tell me: who were your parents?”

“That’s none of your business either.” I was edging around, trying to find a better angle to get at him or flee. You know, live to fight another day and all that. The vampire was mirroring my moves as if on a stroll through an art museum.

The actual vampire. Fuck.

I still couldn’t get over the fact that I was talking to a living vampire. My mind tripped over the oxymoron. I tried to glimpse puncture wounds in the druid’s neck, but my angle was obscured. Growing up in the streets ensured a stomach of steel — and even just being with the Harbingers of Death a short time, I’d seen my fair share of grizzly and gruesome deaths. I’d even seen a woman lick the blood off a corpse and try to take home a digit of his as a snack... and then, I’d seen that woman, that siren, mauled to death.

Yet, facing this blood-sucker, I was sickened.

My mind had been blown when I’d met the harbingers, but I hadn’t really considered that there were other supernaturals out there besides them, despite what they’d all said about it. I’d been in a rather blissful state of if I can’t see it, it doesn’t exist.

In fact, I was going to go a little crazy if I thought about it too long because, over all these years, how many supernaturals had I been interacting with? How many people had been relating with a supernatural without realizing it when they talked to me? Because that’s what I was, too. A supernatural.

Mind. Fucking. Blown.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” the vampire said with a callous hand wave. He tossed me a triumphant look over his shoulder, having no care about keeping me in his sights. “Whomever they were, we killed them. We killed all of them. Except you. But today, I rectify that.”

This dude obviously never attended The Seker School of Fighting. Dumbass. Even if he could take me as he promised — easily, based on the fate of the druid — cockiness got you nowhere.

It’s easy to let overconfidence lure you into its embrace. But in the end, it will land you flat on your back, dissipating into the night and leaving you with less than you started.

It was a lesson I’d already known because that’s how I got my ass handed to me in the early days of living alone on the streets. My dad had had a similar lesson that I’d ignored until then.

Wait. Vamp asshole said what about my parents?

13

“You… you killed my parents?” I stopped my prowling and nearly dropped the dagger as my fingers slackened. I stared at the vampire in an open-mouthed stupor.

Never let them distract you whether by talk or physical disturbances. Keep your focus.

Seke’s voice interrupted, vehement, angry that I’d let the vamp surprise me. Gripping the dagger as hard as my teeth were gritted, I bent my knees, again in a ready stance. My eyes were narrowed when I repeated myself. “Did. You. Kill. My. Parents?”

“Without knowing who they were, I cannot say if it was me personally,” he stated conversationally, taking my question in earnest and thinking hard about his answer. “But probably. I am one of the few tasked with exterminating those who seek to exterminate us.” He shrugged and grinned at me. “The boss is going to be so pleased with me when I take out the last banshee the same day as the final druid.”

My heart fluttered, though outwardly I remained fierce. The last druid? No, no, no. That can’t have been my last chance to fix the tattoo, my fate. Surely, there were others. Seke said they were hard to pinpoint. Maybe the vamps just hadn’t found them yet? I mean, they’d missed me, hadn’t they? I’d just have to do that first… if I got out of here alive.

Confidence is key.

Fine, fine. Once I got out of here.

“Ah, but where are my manners?” He paused his pacing and turned to me, flourishing his hand in a rolling motion and giving a dramatic bow. “Anthony Pedrotti. At your service. Well,” he winked, “at mine, but still. And you are?” When I didn’t answer that, he added, “Fine, don’t tell me. It will be a fun little challenge to find out. And find out, I will, young one.”

“Why?” I croaked out. The question made me sound like a