Chapter 13
The night went wild and never looked back.
An explosion of color lit the dark. Brilliant flashes of blue, orange, green were there and gone in an instant. Bright enough to cause retinal damage, the light show left a lingering imprint in the darkness, much like the aftermath of a fireworks display.
From the rooftop above the alley, Rhys straightened from a crouched position, concerned about this strange phenomenon. Equally intriguing to him was the small, shadowy figure moving through the atmospheric residue.
To most eyes turned in that direction, the figure would have been indistinguishable from the surrounding darkness. Luckily, a Blood Knight’s vision was exceptional, and Rhys had a special gift for hunting anomalies like this one. It was his job, his gig. He was good at it. Better than good. He was lethal. A monster’s worst nightmare.
Problem was...the figure down in that alley wasn’t one of London’s usual monsters.
Although it was time for the city’s abominations to crawl out of their hidey-holes, the creature with the strange light display wasn’t a vampire or a werewolf. The scent accompanying the apparition didn’t ring in as blood or damp fur, but something altogether different.
Chances were slim that he had missed a species or two in his centuries of keeping watch on the ever-growing lists of them. However, it now seemed to Rhys as if there could have been a gap in his education.
He supposed mortal Londoners might have chalked up those brief seconds of flashy lights to having had one too many drams at the local pub after work. He knew better. If something new had touched down here tonight, he wanted to know what that creature was up to.
I wonder what you are...
Zeroing in on the alley, Rhys detected another surprise. An odor of power trailed in this stranger’s wake. Old power, with a scent reminiscent of an ancient library full of leather-bound books. With the unique fragrance came an atmospheric vibration similar to the hum of lightning striking the earth nearby.
Rhys looked up. No storm clouds.
The sigils covering his neck and shoulder blades rippled in reaction to the stranger’s otherworldly vibration. The inky symbols carved into his skin were issuing a warning he couldn’t ignore.
Was the newcomer dangerous?
Concern growing, Rhys refocused with another silent question.
Who are you?
He ticked off the rarer end of the species spectrum one by one. Shades and half-casts could be ruled out. A few ancient vampires could manipulate the atmosphere on occasion, but that wasn’t the case here.
What else, then? Demon? Some brand-new hybrid concoction designed to confuse the rules and subvert the senses?
Maybe not completely, though, because the vibes this creature gave off were familiar to him on an almost subliminal level, and they kicked his heart rate up a notch or two.
His nagging conscience provided reasonable assurances about having experienced similar physical responses a few times before this, in different time frames and in several places around the globe. Brief blips on his internal radar that came to nothing in the end. Now, though, wasn’t the time for pondering the parameters of déjà vu.
One thing was for sure. Tonight had just gotten a hell of a lot more interesting.
Enlisting the full resources of his extensive mental databanks, Rhys searched deeply for images to pinpoint this newcomer. Concentration brought him success. Beneath the noticeable wisp of old power lay another scent that was as different from the grimy London street odors as possible. Perfume, indicative of golden things. Sunrays on the clear water of a fountain. Morning dew on green grass. Fields of flowers.
Sure as hell, no monster he knew of smelled like that.
Shaking his head to clear his mind of images like grass and fountains, Rhys got back to the task at hand. Golden scents were always a distraction because they brought back memories of his days in the light, so very long ago, in another lifetime.
I see you, he wanted to say to test this stranger’s awareness levels. If you’re so strong, can you feel me watching?
Hunting monsters in the mortal world, finding and dealing with predators, had been his calling for as long as he could remember. Hell, with freaks and bloodsuckers increasing in numbers by the truckload, somebody had to take care of the problem so mortals could remain ignorant of what actually lurked in the shadows.
He stared at the alley, and the creature passing through it.
Are you a predator, my fine friend?
A fancy parasite, perhaps?
His inability to determine the answer to those questions was annoying and highly unusual.
“So, what are you, exactly?” Rhys whispered.
The only beings remotely as potent as this one in terms of presence were his brethren, and all six of the other Blood Knights were accounted for. He could touch their minds with his if he wanted to, just as they could touch his.