Night Kissed (Chosen Vampire Slayer #1) - Mila Young Page 0,4

of shifters and vamps to claim the place on his behalf.

So, Orion hired me and one other guy to be the muscle and help remind these intruders the area wasn’t for the taking. A brutal, violent reminder that would terrify the asshole to stay back in Seattle where he belonged.

And tonight we were rolling out the beginning of our retribution with me kicking us off. I couldn’t wait.

I was ready to do what was needed to get my reward; Orion promised me my own realm in which to indulge without any rules hindering me, or others sticking their noses in my business. I had faced my fair share of shit down in the Underworld, fought to climb the hierarchy of legions, and it still got me betrayed by those closest to me. My gut churned at the thought of everything I lost…

Including her.

An ache sharpened in my chest.

Grinding my teeth, I shoved the memories aside, loathing how they made me feel sick to my stomach.

Fuck everything and everyone. After I finished the mission with Orion, I was on my own.

As I sat back on the stool and stretched my powerfully muscled arms and shoulders, stiff from hunching for the last few hours, I glanced around the room. My mark still sat stuffed into a booth in the far corner— I could only see the edge of the man’s burly right shoulder, leading down into an arm like a tree trunk. No signs of movement, let alone an intent to depart.

I resented the jackass more with every passing minute for making me wait. More than anything I wanted to march over there and finish already, but that wasn’t my plan. I sighed and kept waiting for him to leave.

Twin tendrils of smoke slipped from my nostrils into air already choked by cigarette fumes. The bar was proving to be the perfect cover, in a way. Dark, hazy, full of transients and weirdos. Nobody thought twice about some guy in a long coat blowing smoke at the corner of the bar.

The whiskey had almost disappeared by the time my mark finally struggled up out of his seat. The testimony of his partial silhouette proved truthful; he was a giant of a man. A bear, one might say. I tracked the man’s lumbering movement toward the door leading out into the unpleasant Alaskan night. As soon as it began to swing open, I made my long-awaited move.

The glass clunked down onto the bar, cushioned by a bill. “Keep the change,” I muttered to the barkeep.

My gaze cut through the miserable, snowy night to the shadow trudging away from the Rabbit Foot’s dim circle of radiance.

The hulking shadow moved slowly, weighed down by the massive quantities of alcohol percolating through his system.

When I exhaled, jets of smoke poured from my nose and leaked from the corners of my mouth. I had been instructed not to throw my strength around if I could help it.

Too bad. Showing off was one of my favorite things to do. I was always performing, whether my audience was going to live through it or not.

The mammoth stranger staggered to a halt at the side of the road. I watched with a mix of amusement and disgust as the man bent forward, hands on his knees. He coughed and sputtered.

Pathetic.

I was standing within arm’s reach by the time my quarry finally caught on to my presence.

“Who’re you?” The words slurred from the depths of a silvered brown beard, aimed lazily over one burly shoulder. “And what the hell d’you want?”

My left hand emerged from my pocket to scratch the side of his jaw. Wreaths of steam had started to billow up from where the soles of my feet melted snow back into clear rivulets of water. I stared into the man’s unfocused eyes and saw the fury smoldering there, but I’d still caught him off guard.

My right hand closed around the hilt of a long knife bearing a sharp, mean blade. If I struck true, it could puncture the heart of this giant and bring him down in seconds. On the other hand, if I was feeling exceptionally cruel…

Still sheathed inside the coat, the knife’s hungry blade began to glow, first fire-orange, and then white-hot. As I drew it, the weapon lit me from beneath.

But the beast-man was undeterred. He faced me, rising to his full, impressive height. The cotton fibers of his shirt strained to contain masses of muscle beneath. “I said, what the hell do you want?” His