Werewolves Be Damned - By Stacey Kennedy Page 0,58

manner, his opinion hadn’t changed.

With that in mind, Kyden turned to Alazar. “Did you track the other vampire?”

The shock faded from Alazar’s eyes with his nod. “Once the vamp vanished, I called in another tracker and had him trace the bloodsucker. He’s at a house on Old Temple Street, a few blocks from downtown.”

Kyden drew his sword and stepped in next to the bodies, then he pierced the mortals’ stomachs with his blade. In a blink, both had slash wounds across their throats, a pool of blood surrounding them. He had no doubt the mortal police would consider this a mugging, a case that would remain unsolved, even if Kyden sought justice on the mortals’ behalf. He sheathed his sword, turning to Alazar. “How far away is the house?”

“Three blocks, that way.” Alazar pointed to his right.

“Let’s go by foot.” Kyden strode forward, Finn falling into step beside him with Alazar to his left.

The streets were quiet and the only sound in the night came from their boots on the pavement. The houses were dark as mortals slept, unaware that killer vampires were on the loose.

Once they arrived at the third intersection, Kyden spotted the street sign. Old Temple Street. To the left, the street lay empty. To the right, a werewolf leaned against the light post, staring at a historic red brick estate.

“The tracker, Daryen,” Alazar said, quickening his steps. “Is the vamp still in there?”

Daryen, a rugged werewolf with cropped dark hair and shadowy eyes, pushed away from the street post. “It’s the strangest thing—” His voice held a thick southern accent. “But yeah, he’s in there.”

Reaching the wolf, Kyden asked, “He hasn’t tried to leave?”

“Not once,” Daryen said, folding his arms over his plaid shirt. “The vamp even looked at me through the window…twice. But yet, he ain’t running.”

Kyden exhaled, knowing when something didn’t make sense, it meant trouble. “Any others in the area?”

Daryen glanced at the house, then shook his head. “The Salt Lake pack’s headquarters is only a block away, so you’ve got some wolves in the area. But no one else has gone in or come from the house.”

“Good,” Finn muttered.

“I’ll spread word of this vampire to the other trackers,” Alazar said. “We’ll be in contact if any discoveries are made.”

Kyden doubted any further discoveries would be made, other than more dead bodies. Concern for the mortals who lived in Salt Lake City, and were defenseless against the danger in the night, engulfed him. He turned to Finn. “Ready?”

Finn grinned and his eyes shone with excitement. “Always.”

With Daryen and Alazar heading down the street, Kyden strode toward the house with Finn at his back. The upstairs windows were all dark, but the porch light was on and the bay window to his right sent a warm glow into the night.

At the front door, Kyden wrapped his hand around the brass handle, and to his surprise, it opened. He thought it odd that not only had the vampire allowed them entrance, but that he presently wasn’t defending himself.

Finn’s eyebrows were drawn together, and clearly he’d come to the same conclusion.

Kyden entered the home, facing a grand wooden staircase straight ahead of him. To his left was a dining room with a large wooden table that of course was for decorative purposes, since vampires drank blood and didn’t sit down for dinner. To his right was another room.

With Finn guarding his back, Kyden stepped into the large living room. He immediately skidded to a halt, shocked by the view, and arched an eyebrow. “Comfortable?”

“Quite.” The vampire smirked, one arm draped over his Victorian-style couch, his ankle resting on his knee. His round face was lit up with amusement, his dark eyes shimmering, and the color of his skin held a pinkish hue from a nice meal.

Twice now, Kyden had seen vampires who lacked fear in the presence of the Council’s Guard. He didn’t like the look of it. In fact, it made him thirst to teach this vampire how bad a decision he had made. “What’s your name?”

The vampire picked lint off his pants, flicking it onto the hardwood floor. “Warin Henry Maxwell the Fifth.”

Kyden snorted at the vamp’s regal air. As if his standing within any society had bearing on what Kyden thought of him, or would hold any weight regarding his death sentence. “You know why we’re here.”

Warin’s smile widened. “I’m fully aware of the reasons, yes.”

Finn stepped in next to Kyden and snarled, “And you hold no remorse?”

“I don’t need to have guilt.”

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