"And we don't feed the humans to you either." He winked at her. "But to answer your question, no. No Daimons have been near the club in weeks."
That was hard to believe. Touristy places such as this were known Daimon hunting grounds and hangouts. "Really?"
"Yeah, it's weird, I know. It's like they're on hiatus or something. We've never been this long without at least a group or two visiting. The last one we saw was before we reopened.... And that bastard showed up here in broad daylight."
She scoffed at his words. "You're so full of it." What he was saying was absolutely ludicrous. "Daimons can't walk in daylight, everyone knows that."
"I hear ya, but I'm telling you he was here in the flesh and the sun was bright and shining. He walked right out into it like he didn't have a care in the world."
She still wasn't sold on what he was saying. It didn't make sense. "And none of you thought to tell us?"
"We filed a report with the Squires"--they were the human employees who helped the Dark-Hunters and who protected them during the daylight hours when the Dark-Hunters couldn't be out in sunlight without bursting into flames--"and we've been telling every Dark-Hunter we see. But since no one else has seen a Daimon in daylight, they think we're on meth and dismiss the warning as some kind of mass hallucination brought on by too much honey-drinking."
His words amused her. "Are you on meth?"
"You know that stuff won't work on me any more than it'd work on you." Dark-Hunters and Were-Hunters were all immune to most drugs.
Sam still couldn't buy it. "Did you tell Acheron?"
"Again, he said there was only one Daimon who could walk in daylight and that he'd personally destroyed that one. There was no chance in hell we have another Daywalker."
And yet Dev believed unequivocally that they'd seen a Daimon in daylight. She could sense it with every power she possessed. "Maybe it was some Goth kid with fangs screwing with you."
"Yeah 'cause I can't tell the difference between a human and a Daimon. I really suck at this job."
She laughed at his dry sarcasm. How could he be so cute and annoying all at once? "All right. I believe you. But--"
He held his hands up in surrender. "I hear you and I agree it's whacked. I know it makes no sense. I'm just telling you what we saw so that you know. You draw your own conclusions from there."
"Well, if you're right, let's hope this is just an anomaly and that he burned up three seconds after he left here."
"Here's hoping for miracles." He picked the headset up from his shoulders and placed it back over his ears. It was peculiar to her how any man could look so sexy with that contraption on his head, yet he somehow managed.
Totally weird...
Dev gestured to the door. "You're safe to go in. There aren't any other Dark-Hunters inside."
She appreciated his warning. Not that she needed it. While being around another Dark-Hunter would drain her powers, hers were so great that the depletion was basically a joke. Not to mention she had serious battle skills that few could touch with or without her Dark-Hunter powers to back them. That was what made her one of the machiskyli...the Dogs of War. The Daimons had their elite fighters and the Dark-Hunters had the Dogs. Men and women who lived for battle and who took their only joy in cutting the hearts out of their enemies.
It was a badge she wore with honor. And tonight she felt the Daimon presence deep in her bones. She just had to pinpoint it, grab it by the throat, and strangle it until she felt better. Which meant leaving the enticing bear at the door and heading in to do her job.
"I'll catch you later, Bear."
He inclined his head to her as she walked through the doors into the dark interior. Since it was only seven in the evening, there weren't many people in the club. A few humans eating at the front tables. Two more sitting at the bar that was being tended by a wolf were (so called because he was a wolf in human form) and another bearwere who bore a striking resemblance to Dev. It must be one of his identical brothers.
She sauntered over to the wolf and ordered a longneck.
"You want any food to go with that?" he asked as he popped the top on one and handed it to her.
Sam shook her head and ignored the curious stare he directed at her gloved hands. Food wasn't really her thing and she hoped that she could sip this beer in peace. She started to pull out her wallet, but the wolf stopped her.
"I remember you from the fight. Your money's no good here."
His pain reached out to her as she had a flash in her mind of his past. A past that left him with a profound sense of guilt. He was the one Nicolette Peltier had died protecting and he felt like he'd taken the mother from the woman he loved--it was a bitter ache that stayed buried deep inside him and burned like a coal. He was a good man to care so much about his wife. "Thanks...Fang." His name popped into her head as clearly as the images from his past. Images that would be heightened to a brutal level if she touched his body in any way.
He inclined his head to her. "Anytime."
Sam moved away before she took in any more residual emotions and images from him. She hated that power so much. It might not be so bad if she had some kind of control over it, but she didn't. Instead, other people's emotions often tangled with hers until she had a hard time deciphering her feelings from theirs. It was why she tended to avoid people as much as possible. And why she couldn't touch anyone with her bare hands or flesh.