the highway, my men tried to tell
you that they meant you no harm.”
“But they did knock my car off the road. And what of the
first time? When you came after me in the shape of a wolf? You didn’t seem like
you wanted to be friends then.”
“Can you blame me? Since you were born, we’ve heard legends
and tales about what power you might have. And you were supposed to be dead.
Then, you show up—alive, a powerful male on the run with another just like you?
Neither of you has any idea of the potential you have, do you? I had to see
what you were made of. A test, nothing more. No harm was done.”
“Not then. No.” Oliver was quiet.
Lobo didn’t fill the silence with more information.
“Did I pass your test?” Oliver asked.
“You are a fighter, Mr. Ripley. You will not go down easy.
You are cagey and determined. Without even realizing it, you tap into your
powers when your back is to a wall. Once developed, you will be a force to be
reckoned with. Hunters absorb the energy of those they take down. If you can
use your guts and determination to kill Azazel Priest, you will become one of
the most powerful vampire hunters who has ever lived. Add to that your
interesting mixed DNA and you could be the one to change everything.” Lobo’s
eyes gleamed with excitement and the fervor of his words.
It was clear that even if much of what he said was untrue,
he wanted this vampire dead with everything in him. Oliver, however, only cared
about one thing.
“Even if I manage to kill him, I’ll have every vampire and
hunter in the world after me. I can’t fight all of them.” As soon as the words
left his mouth, Oliver cursed himself for letting his guard down, for telling
the man what he was actually thinking as if they were in this thing together.
“I will do everything I can to help you should you manage to
kill Azazel Priest.”
“Great,” Oliver said, managing to keep most of the sarcasm
from his tone. The situation looked pretty bleak no matter how you sliced it.
Still, none of that changed his main mission.
“With my network, and enough time, I’m confident I can come
up with something. You’ll have me, and all who serve me on your side and we are
legion.”
But not strong enough to take out one vampire, Oliver
thought. “Good. We’re all set then, except one thing—I’m not leaving here
without Miranda,” he said, a stubborn tilt to his chin.
Lobo smiled, nodding as if he’d expected this. “This, I
cannot agree to.”
“Then, the deal’s off.” Oliver rested his folded hands on
his stomach.
Lobo raised an eyebrow, his smile faltering. “You’d let me
kill her? I think not.”
“Then, you’d think wrong.” He tried to calm the hammering of
his heart. This was a risky move, and he knew it. If Miranda died because of
his gamble, he’d never forgive himself.
Lobo’s expression was unreadable, but Oliver picked up
things in the man’s body-language and his darkening aura that told him he was
surprised, but not angered over Oliver’s gambit. Neither man spoke, sipping
wine as if they played only a friendly game of chess, not a game that might end
in death.
Finally, Lobo sighed and rubbed the bridge of his
aristocratic nose. “On this you will not bend, even though she would be safer
here with me? What if I vow not to harm her should you fail?”
“I wouldn’t believe you. I’m having trust issues lately. The
safest place for Miranda is at my side. I won’t leave here without her.”
“And if I give you this, you will kill Azazel Priest?”
Lobo’s dark eyes narrowed again as if he was trying to pry open Oliver’s soul
to see the truth of his intentions.
“Though vampire hunters don’t take on work for hire, I don’t
see why I couldn’t make an exception. If this vampire is as fierce and deadly
as you claim, he needs killing anyway. If you keep your word and help us get
out of Mexico alive that alone is worth the risk.”
“I give you my word.” Lobo extended a
you that they meant you no harm.”
“But they did knock my car off the road. And what of the
first time? When you came after me in the shape of a wolf? You didn’t seem like
you wanted to be friends then.”
“Can you blame me? Since you were born, we’ve heard legends
and tales about what power you might have. And you were supposed to be dead.
Then, you show up—alive, a powerful male on the run with another just like you?
Neither of you has any idea of the potential you have, do you? I had to see
what you were made of. A test, nothing more. No harm was done.”
“Not then. No.” Oliver was quiet.
Lobo didn’t fill the silence with more information.
“Did I pass your test?” Oliver asked.
“You are a fighter, Mr. Ripley. You will not go down easy.
You are cagey and determined. Without even realizing it, you tap into your
powers when your back is to a wall. Once developed, you will be a force to be
reckoned with. Hunters absorb the energy of those they take down. If you can
use your guts and determination to kill Azazel Priest, you will become one of
the most powerful vampire hunters who has ever lived. Add to that your
interesting mixed DNA and you could be the one to change everything.” Lobo’s
eyes gleamed with excitement and the fervor of his words.
It was clear that even if much of what he said was untrue,
he wanted this vampire dead with everything in him. Oliver, however, only cared
about one thing.
“Even if I manage to kill him, I’ll have every vampire and
hunter in the world after me. I can’t fight all of them.” As soon as the words
left his mouth, Oliver cursed himself for letting his guard down, for telling
the man what he was actually thinking as if they were in this thing together.
“I will do everything I can to help you should you manage to
kill Azazel Priest.”
“Great,” Oliver said, managing to keep most of the sarcasm
from his tone. The situation looked pretty bleak no matter how you sliced it.
Still, none of that changed his main mission.
“With my network, and enough time, I’m confident I can come
up with something. You’ll have me, and all who serve me on your side and we are
legion.”
But not strong enough to take out one vampire, Oliver
thought. “Good. We’re all set then, except one thing—I’m not leaving here
without Miranda,” he said, a stubborn tilt to his chin.
Lobo smiled, nodding as if he’d expected this. “This, I
cannot agree to.”
“Then, the deal’s off.” Oliver rested his folded hands on
his stomach.
Lobo raised an eyebrow, his smile faltering. “You’d let me
kill her? I think not.”
“Then, you’d think wrong.” He tried to calm the hammering of
his heart. This was a risky move, and he knew it. If Miranda died because of
his gamble, he’d never forgive himself.
Lobo’s expression was unreadable, but Oliver picked up
things in the man’s body-language and his darkening aura that told him he was
surprised, but not angered over Oliver’s gambit. Neither man spoke, sipping
wine as if they played only a friendly game of chess, not a game that might end
in death.
Finally, Lobo sighed and rubbed the bridge of his
aristocratic nose. “On this you will not bend, even though she would be safer
here with me? What if I vow not to harm her should you fail?”
“I wouldn’t believe you. I’m having trust issues lately. The
safest place for Miranda is at my side. I won’t leave here without her.”
“And if I give you this, you will kill Azazel Priest?”
Lobo’s dark eyes narrowed again as if he was trying to pry open Oliver’s soul
to see the truth of his intentions.
“Though vampire hunters don’t take on work for hire, I don’t
see why I couldn’t make an exception. If this vampire is as fierce and deadly
as you claim, he needs killing anyway. If you keep your word and help us get
out of Mexico alive that alone is worth the risk.”
“I give you my word.” Lobo extended a
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