Page 42 of Shadow Hunter

Damon lifted a brow, waiting for Chris to elaborate.

Chris let out a long sigh and swore. “I hate to tell you this, but Rochester is swamped with supernatural predators. There are reported wolf shifter sightings, possibly a full-on pack, there are demons lodged so deep the people they’ve possessed are pretty much done for, there are several small witch covens, loads of non-wolf shifters—oh, and that’s not even including all the poltergeists and ghosts reported in the old, abandoned asylum.”

They both sat in silence for a moment, uncertain what to say.

Words couldn’t express what deep shit Damon was in.

Welcome to Rochester, alright.

Chris cleared his throat. “Look, we both know you can’t handle all this on your own.”

Damon clenched his teeth, dropping a fist onto the desk. He wasn’t ready to lead another division, not given the way he’d failed Mark, but the laundry list of supernatural shit Chris had just dished out was far more than any one hunter could handle. The Execution Underground trained all their members to deal with a variety of supernatural creatures, but then Headquarters assigned each hunter a species and conditioned them into elite specialists.

Sure, Damon had excelled across the board and was one of the few who’d been granted their choice of specialization, but none of that would do him any good in hunting other beasts full-time. There were too many. Per his choice, slaying vampires was his true purpose.

He clenched his fists, fighting down his own reservations. He’d do what needed to be done. He always did. “Send me a list of prospective hunters for every type of monster we have in the city. I’ll look through them, pick a team and put in a request to Headquarters.”

So much for flying solo. He’d thought coming to Rochester would let him work alone, since there was no established division in the area, and until now, the plethora of paranormal activity here hadn’t been on the EU’s radar. Though from the sounds of it, not even NYC was drowning in as many supernatural predators as Rochester was. At least down there, they had a division, support, which meant he’d landed in the exact situation he’d been trying to avoid.

Being the lead hunter on a team once more.

“You got it,” Chris said, interrupting him from his thoughts. “But let’s focus on one thing at a time. I ran those samples, but I was only able to determine one thing. Something caused a mutation in the vampire’s saliva, which probably means the vampires themselves have morphed into something new. The weird part is that the mutation has a lot of similarities to a human virus.”

If Damon had been a more lighthearted man, he might have laughed. “So, the vampires are sick?”

“Sort of. I think somehow, they’re passing around some sort of viral infection, and that’s causing the strange behaviors you described. But based on the change in their DNA, I think it’s only being passed on to newly turned vamps. Maybe it happens when a new vamp is made, and that’s why the old ones can’t get it. I have no idea what the original source could be, though. Does any of this fit what you’re thinking?”

Damon ran his hand over his hair. “Not sure. If the bloodsuckers have a virus, the weird behaviors make sense. But what about the dead guy turning so quickly? It only took an hour for him to turn, and regular vampire gestation is at least a month, sometimes longer, when buried in the ground. He shouldn’t have changed that quickly.”

Chris started typing again. “The virus could be causing a genetic mutation in their makeup and speeding up the transformation process.”

Damon rested his head in his hands. “So, we have sick baby vamps running around who are mutating into zombie-like monsters. But that doesn’t explain why a newborn vampire would leave blood. Once a baby vamp bites, it doesn’t detach until the person’s drained, and this guy wasn’t.”

Chris gave a single nod, prompting Damon to finish his thought.

“But a stronger vamp could.”

Chris stared at him. “You’re thinking an older vamp is killing these people and then feeding the leftovers to the new zombie vamps?”

If an older vampire was controlling younger ones within the Rochester city limits, there was a clear culprit. Damon and Chris exchanged knowing looks. They didn’t need to say it aloud to know they were on the same page.

Damon may have managed to protect Tiffany, but Caius had still been busy.

Tiffany yawned and stretched,her eyes flickering open. She blinked away the sleep from her vision and rolled over. Sittingup in bed, she glanced around the bedroom. No Damon. She flopped back into the pillows and let out a long sigh.

Holy smokes, the things they’d done...

A sweet ache pulsed through her core, the soreness just enough to remind her of every detail. She’d never thought she would have been capable of letting go like that, opening herself up to another person so completely. A small smile crept over her lips. She’d never been one for the sappy stuff, but the thought of the previous evening gave her butterflies.

She stood and stripped the top sheet from the bed. Wrapping it around herself, she padded down the stairs. She went into the laundry room and pulled her clothes from the dryer, checking them over. Still mildly stained with blood. No surprise there, but it would have to do. She dropped the sheet and dressed, before throwing the sheet in the hamper and heading into the living room in search of Damon. Who wasn’t there, or in the kitchen.

Where was he?

A moment later, she heard a heavy door closing, only for him to emerge from the downstairs hallway, a scowl twisting his face.

She lifted a brow. “Who spit in your coffee?”

Without a word, Damon flopped down onto the sofa, before he buried his head in his hands.

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