Trust that I know how to track our quarry. I have spent five-thousand years hunting prey on this earth. Why are we here, out of everywhere in Charleston?" And you still haven’t answered my question. Then they could hunt and copulate and live as they wish. He loves John, but he dislikes all of the mortal rules and foolishness that John cares about so much. And that asshole’s not getting any help from me."
If our hunt became official, and we couldn’t find it, it would give Barillo an excuse to carry out his threats. If John was involved in hunting this…whatever the hell it is…he’d feel duty-bound to file a report like a good little SPECTR agent. Barillo is just looking for a reason to assign us a different partner. John would believe them, because he trusts them. But if he does, I’ll just tell him we were restless and went for a run. What if he wakes while they’re gone and wonders why they left without explanation?Ĭaleb’s impatience is sparked now with worry.
He didn’t stir when they slid from beneath the covers, dressed, and let themselves out the door. Even Gray has not seen so many demons in such a short time, and John’s body is mortal and has limitations theirs does not. Lycanthropes, ghouls, and a therianthrope which took on the shape of a twisted alligator. They have hunted many, many demons over the last month. Pain and ecstasy, joy and sorrow, and above all love. It is his body Gray inadvertently leapt into, during the few seconds Caleb died.īeing with Caleb allows Gray to feel these sensations, and more. Not in general, but in this part of the city?Ĭaleb is mortal, and thus impatient. So many things to smell, but not the one he seeks. The August day baked the streets, and hot asphalt mixes with fading car exhaust.
Spoiled fish and soured milk waft from a nearby garbage bin, accompanied by the sweet exhalations of gardenias. Now that he is clothed in living flesh, the world has unfolded into colors and smells and sounds. The warm, wet wind brings him many scents more than he’d ever imagined existing in the long millennia spent in dead bodies. Gray balances amidst the branches of a live oak, every sense attuned to the night. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Drinker of Blood (SPECTR Series 2 #3) © 2017 Jordan L.
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