Night Huntress 02 - One Foot in the Grave

“I have not had the pleasure of meeting you,” Francois said. “I am Francois, and my friend Annette tells me you are Selena.”

 

 

I let him take my hand and kiss it, even though it meant being farther away from my knives. Behind Francois’s shoulder I saw Annette saying hello to the other guards. She knew all their names, I realized with an inner wince. If she wasn’t backstabbing me, then she was about to do it in a big way to these people. Finally I realized the magnitude of what Bones was doing. These were Ian’s people; therefore, Bones probably knew them residually, if not quite well. And for me, he was double-crossing them. Sure, it wasn’t like they were innocents, since they’d agreed to be guards and potential executioners for my men, but still. It was so much easier to betray strangers than friends.

 

“Selena, my pet, come here,” Annette said, waving me over.

 

I smiled at Francois once more and excused myself. Francois nonchalantly went around the back of the van, out of my sight, as I met Annette by the cluster of five vampires. If she’s going to turn on me, I thought grimly, now would be the perfect time to do it.

 

But all Annette did was pull me close and kiss my neck while casually stroking my arm. Behind us, in the back of the van, it sounded like Francois was unloading Tate, Juan, and Cooper. Their hearts were beating faster, but nothing that made me think they were in imminent danger.

 

“Selena, meet my friends,” Annette said.

 

I was quickly enveloped in warm hello kisses, as if this was a swingers’ bar instead of a warehouse hostage transfer. Annette laughed when one of the men, Hatchet I think he’d said his name was, gave me a kiss heavy with tongue and decided to feel all the contours of my ass.

 

“Enough of that, Hatchet,” Annette said, playfully pulling me back. “Selena likes to get warmed up first, but by the feminine persuasion. Isn’t that right, darling?”

 

Bitch, I thought again, seeing the dare in her eyes, but I smiled and let Annette fold me in her arms. At least she wasn’t grabbing my ass. Yet.

 

“That’s right,” I said breathily. “Still, it’s nice to have something more substantial than a tongue to finish me off. Are you men going to be very busy here? Or do you get to take, um, breaks?”

 

I licked my fingers as I spoke. Annette was behind me, caressing my sides suggestively, and it was almost funny to see five sets of gazes all of a sudden turn streetlight green.

 

“When are we supposed to be at Ian’s?” one of them asked.

 

Francois’s voice came from the other side of the van. “Not until eleven, over four hours from now.”

 

Annette’s mouth ran along the line of my neck to my shoulder, and I shivered pleasantly without faking it. The way her teeth grazed my skin had made little goose bumps appear. Then she followed the line with her tongue, rubbing along the back of me with a slow, voluptuous slide.

 

Hatchet began taking off his clothes. I blinked. Apparently that was enough incentive for him.

 

Francois came around the van and put his arms around Annette. She purred and snake-hipped against him, which had me moving in the same way, too, since her hands still gripped my sides. Then Francois extended his reach and cupped my breasts. The rest of the guys started stripping as well. Pretty soon I’d have visual proof that none of them were packing weapons. So far the only knives I’d seen were carelessly laid several yards away by where the van pulled in. They really hadn’t expected a trap.

 

I bent forward, like I was reveling in the sensations... and then I palmed four knives from my boots. Good timing, too. Francois had been about to feel me up, or were those Annette’s hands starting to get frisky?

 

“Now!” I shouted, and flung the blades.

 

Two landed in Hatchet’s eyes, and the other two in the eyes of the vampire next to him. They screamed, snatching at the blades while I leapt forward, throwing myself on them and smashing their heads together hard enough to hear crunching sounds.

 

But not hard enough to kill. Hatchet and his friend were on the ground, writhing and blinded, but they’d heal. The other three vampires had gone for their weapons—and came face to face with Tate, Juan, and Cooper instead.

 

“Remember those handcuffs?” Tate asked, dangling one. “Fakes.”

 

The vampires didn’t bother to attempt to green-eye them into submission. They came tearing toward them with their fangs and fists instead. All this I saw while grappling with the two wounded ones on the floor, trying to get just the right slant with knives on both of them without killing them. Annette had her hands full with Francois, who sounded like he was cursing her up one side and down the other in French.

 

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