Page 1 of The Vampire's Hunter

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Dani Harper wasn’t certain how she’d found herself here, and yet…here she was. She stood frozen inside The Diner King, eyes locked on the familiar cowboy who made his way toward her with unwavering intent. Shit, this was unexpected, but she shouldn’t have been surprised.

She felt that way about a lot of things in her life—as if she’d somehow ended up there without intention or plan. But this time, watching her estranged brother waltz into the diner where she worked with all the prowl of one of the preternatural creatures he famously hunted, the feeling was harder to ignore.

“Goddamn it!” a sharp, aging voice bellowed to her right. “You flighty, dimwitted—”

Dani blinked, instantly wrenched back into the moment. To the sticky, fry-oil rent air of the diner. To the old bank pen and notepad tucked into the cornflower apron that squeezed her waist, and to the steaming, now overflowing ceramic mug spilling coffee onto the table in front of Mr. Dougherty.

A clearly pissed-off,humanMr. Dougherty.

“Shit.” She scrambled to right the coffee pot in her hand.

She was supposed to be taking Mr. Dougherty’s order, not speculating on whatever kind of supernatural trouble her brother’s unexpected arrival meant. Which since Mr. Dougherty was a regular—a veryhumanregular, just like every other lost soul here—meant a boring coffee with two sugars, one cream, and then fetching his biscuits and gravy as fast as the kitchen could cook it, all before he yelled at her for being “slow” again.

Never mind that she usually served up orders faster than any other waitress on the midnight scheduling block and with a more genuine smile to boot. Escaping Mr. Dougherty’s ire was its own kind of skill, and from the moment she’d overpoured his coffee that ship had sailed faster than the menu’s fish and chips could send a person sailing to the restroom—which was undeniably and disgustingly fast.

Mr. Dougherty grumbled at her, the jowls of his cheeks wiggling in anger. “Why, you—”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Dougherty. Let me grab a towel,” she muttered quickly, before she scurried away from the table.

Depositing the coffee pot onto the hot plate, Dani snatched a spare bussing rag from the sink and grabbed a replacement saucer from the dish rack, prepared to head back to Mr. Dougherty, but a soft hand quickly stayed her arm.

“Isn’t that your brother?” Thelma piled three steaming orders of hashbrowns with a side of bacon onto one arm, before plopping a plated coney island covered in sloppy chili onto the other. She nodded to where Quinn now sat on the far side of the diner. Meanwhile, the smell of fried potato and chili invaded Dani’s nose.

Her brother was watching them, waiting for her. Because of course he was.

Dani’s nerves shot into overdrive.

“What?” she blinked at Thelma, still dazed from the Mr. Dougherty incident.

“I said, isn’t that your brother?” Thelma nodded toward the shadowed face beneath the Stetson.

Brow furrowed, Dani’s eyes shot between where her brother sat, and the veteran waitress who waited for her answer. Thelma didn’t exactly look like the type to know about shifters, vamps, and witches—the world’s supernatural underbelly. Most humans didn’t. But what did Dani know? She supposed someone could likely say the same of her.

Lifting a brow, Dani lowered her voice. “How did you—?”

Thelma smiled, batting Dani’s arm playfully, completely unaware of Dani’s insinuation. “You showed me an old picture of him once, remember?”

Dani blinked. Right. Thelma recognized Quinn for who he was to her, not the role he played. The role everyone elseof any paranormal importance in her life knew her brother for. Figured.It was yet another sobering reminder that here in this small little town where she’d landed herself, she was alone in more ways than one. Burdened with a knowledge Thelma and her coworkers would never endure.

And yet…strangely nostalgic for the absence of everything she’d left behind.

“Yeah, I…I suppose I did, didn’t I?” She smiled weakly.

Thelma shook her head. “Well, what are you waiting for, sugar? You going to make him wait in that booth all day or are you going to go see him?”

Dani glanced toward where Mr. Dougherty was now cursing.

“Don’t you worry about that old curmudgeon.” Thelma nodded toward the regular. “I’ll take care of him.” She gave Dani a supportive wink as she gently tugged the wet rag away from her, somehow still managing to balance all her plates and trays.

“I suppose you’re right.” Dani nodded, wringing her hands. Clearly, she couldn’t avoid her brother forever. Even if she wanted to.

Slowly, she made her way over to the booth.

“Quinn,” she mumbled shyly.

“Dani.” Her brother’s voice was as gruff and hardened as she remembered. Pure cowboy.

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