Part 2

Blaine cursed his stupidity. He'd left the damn Wolf get away. He couldn't believe it. He didn't seem to do much of a job of getting Wolfies, he thought sourly. He sighed with annoyance, heading back to his car.

Well, all he could tell his contact was that he'd seen the woman, and would make a better attempt at it next time. He didn't see what the problem was. So Phoenix Wolf was a self-made assassin, pissing off Night World officials. So what?

If they went around killing off most of their assassins, which they seemed to be doing at the moment, who was going to take care of their problems? He doubted they were going to get off their lazy Council asses and go themselves.

It was either kill them, or most of their favourite killers were turning Daybreak. He made a face. What a terrible thought. Well, he could guarantee it would never happen to him, and he knew of at least one other person who could be trusted never to turn sappy. He smirked at the image of Aurelia dancing around with the Daybreakers, covered in flowers and signing about love and harmony and all that crap.

She'd probably punch his lights out of it mentioned that to her, he thought dryly. He hadn't seen her in over six months, she seemed to be avoiding him. Fine. If she wanted to be like that, he thought sourly.

He pulled up outside the Night World bar he'd been told to meet at, the Black Sun. Kind of play on words, he thought as he parked his motorcycle and headed inside.

His eyes scanned the crowded bar for his contact, Lorelei Blackthorn. She had taken over the Night World council after the death of its previous leader, Trinity Harman-Redfern, who'd been having an affair with Hunter. Hunter had been blasted by blue fire, and Trinity had been staked by her own vampire hunter daughter. So Lorelei had taken over.

He didn't like the look of the guy who had joined her either. He wasn't very big, but muscular, and his cold expression said he wasn't afraid to use those muscles if necessary.

"Well?" Lorelei asked as he slid into the seat opposite her. "She dead yet?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Give me a break," he snapped. "I only got the assignment about two hours ago."

"Never trust a vampire to do a real man's work," Mr. Muscles said with sour humour.

Lorelei chuckled dryly, pushing her coppery bangs out her eyes. "Now, now Donavon, be nice." Lorelei patted Donavon's arm. "Donavon here is my latest new contact. Play nice boys, because I'm trusting you two to work together on this."




Blaine opened his mouth to shot at Lorelei, she was out her mind. He didn't work with anyone. He noticed a tattoo on the back of Donavon's hand. A black poppy. Oh great. Just fucking great, he thought angrily. "You're a Wolf."

Donavon's eyebrow raised a little. "How'd you know?"

"Black poppy's are a Wolf symbol," he answered. He smiled unpleasantly. "Let's just say I've had some...encounters...with them before."

Lorelei turned her stunning smile on Donavon. "Why don't you go get us a couple of drinks," she said. It wasn't a request. Donavon stood up, his expression thunderous as he stormed off to the bar.

"You're fucking crazy," Blaine told her bluntly. 2There is no way in hell I'm working with *him*."

Lorelei was annoyed. "Well, I'm afraid you don't get a choice," she snapped at him. "Phoenix is a Wolf, as is Don. If there's a problem, having a backup is handy."

Blaine sank back against the seat and closed his eyes, wanting to punch something. If Lorelei didn't stop annoying him, it was going to be her. "Backups are okay, I guess, but why did you have to send me after goddamn *werewolves?*" Something cold and wet splashed over his face. His eyes opened in surprised.

Donavon had returned, but Blaine's drink had ended up all over him. Donavon's expression was icy. "Wolves are *not* werewolves, and have nothing to do with werewolves, or immature Night Worlders. We're a separate species."

Blaine scowled. At the rate this assignment was going, he was going to end up killing *him* before he got to Phoenix.

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