Page 150 of Hunters and Prey

Chapter 8

The ride to the restaurant was uneventful. I slid into the back seat of the car, half expecting Remington to be waiting there for me. It would be just like him to not want to wait for me to arrive.

He wasn’t waiting.

Thank all the merciful gods. I needed the thirty minutes it would take us to get from the bar to the outside of town. Not to do anything important more like think up a battle strategy though. Planning was essential for hunts, sure, but it was almost more so for dating. At the end of the day, hunting was easy. Find the bad guy, stick the pointy end in them before they stuck it in you. Actually, I supposed dating was the same but with feelings. Emotions.

Oh boy.

I hadn’t done the feelings thing in a while. Not that I was having mushy feelings for Remington. If I was right, he did kidnap my dad and send me a semi-threatening note. Well, to those who didn’t know him anyway.

Then there was Alec.

What was I thinking? No, there wasn’t Alec. Alec was nobody, worse than that. He was the bane of my existence, the cause of all my heart ache and despair… but he had looked good. Too bad he was just as much of an asshole as I remember. He couldn’t even trust me to do the job he asked me to do.

It was my dad. I wasn’t going to fuck this up, even if it meant staking one of the only good vamps in the city that made my vagina want to jump up and dance.

Fuck. Stop it, Adara. You’re not the nervous type. Not for a vampire.

My life hadn’t changed much since I left the guild. I still hunted vampires and demons, but instead of killing them, I ended up screwing their brains out and then kicking them out before the sun came up. Well, not counting last night.

I liked the way my life was, and I had no interest in changing it. Sure, I got the occasional itch to hunt again, but then again, my best friend was an angel and tended to get herself in all kinds of trouble. So, when I could and was asked, I helped. In turn, it scratched my itch until it was time to go hunt again.

“We’re here, miss,” the driver said over his shoulder before stopping the vehicle and getting out. He opened the door for me a second later and offered me a hand up.

I didn’t take it.

Not because I was a bitch, but because I didn’t like having the disadvantage. While my dress kept the majority of my shoulders and legs exposed, I still armed myself with a couple of daggers on my thighs and a pair of very sharp wooden sticks in my hair that could double as a weapon if need be.

I hoped that wasn’t the case.

If I was reading Remington right, this was another one of his elaborate schemes to get me to spend time with him. Since he was a vampire and I an ex-hunter, there really wasn’t any other reason other than coming into my bar every night which he used to do before I threatened to pour holy water into his glass the next time he came in.

Since then, he used every excuse in the book to run into me or to try to get me to come to him. Dad’s kidnapping was going a bit far. I had to give him props though, the guy was persistent.

“Thank you.” I nodded to the driver with a small smile, not wanting him to offend him. Brushing past him, my eyes scanned the front of the restaurant taking in the bushes around the windows and the parking valet. People were waiting in a roped-off line, hoping that someone would cancel at the last moment so that they could get a table.

No one ever did.

I bypassed the line and walked toward the door, my heels clicking on the sidewalk. Eyes bored into me, and I was tempted to look but kept my eyes forward. I had a tag. Either one of Remington’s vamps or even worse Alec’s hunters.

Sending a silent prayer up that Alec wouldn’t fuck this up for me, I entered the restaurant.

The hostess, a pretty little brunette thing, looked up from her stand and offered me a pleasant smile. “Hello, welcome to Under the Moonlight, where we strive to make every experience magical. How may I make your evening a delight?”

I repressed an eye roll.

“I have a party waiting for me,” I politely explained. “I’m not sure what he would have put it under.” Remington didn’t like to use his real name for most things. It made it hard to live in the modern word and be immortal. I knew a few of his aliases but which one would he use?

“Perhaps,” I chewed on the side of my lip. “A Richard Greer?”

The hostess frowned for a moment, scanning her list. “No, I don’t have a Greer, perhaps another name?”

A large man with skin so dark the white of his eyes stood out in stark contrast cleared his throat, jerking the hostess’s eyes to him. I saw that smile of her stutter, clearing afraid of the obvious body guard.

“Draq,” I shook my head at him. “You almost blend into the wallpaper there.” I pointed at the walls covered in starlight with a smile.

He didn’t grin back. It was hard to get this one to break his stoic face. When he did, that smile of his dazzled, even with the fangs attached.

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