7. Blade
"Get up."
She was strewn on one of Deacon's luxury couches. Someone had already dragged out the corpses and cleaned the rooms. It was almost spotless and she could barely smell the blood under the cleaner and essential oils. The metallic blinds were down.
She had managed to clean up a little last night, but she was still wearing the same clothes, now stained a dull brown. She remembered collapsing against Raquel on the couch, and while she was gone, it seemed that there was still a few guests left.
Deacon was waiting for her and he wasn't happy.
She followed him into a room behind Japanese doors, and she had to adjust her eyes to the stark white of it. It was virtually empty, although the bed told her that she was in a bedroom.
She began unhooking her bra. To be honest, she didn't mind if it was Deacon. Women felt different to men and it'd been a while.
"What are you doing?" he asked impatiently, scornfully.
"What does it look like, baby?" she murmurs. She tugged at her skirt zipper. "How do you like it?"
"Leave it on." He picked up the bra and threw back at her. "Don't flatter yourself."
There was a flash of indignation and anger, but Deacon was already talking. She was still holding the bra. "You're the only one of my people alive to see that hunter." He'd turned on his laptop and a surveillance tape of that night was playing. The black hunter that moved too fast. The footage was grey, but she remembered how his body twisted and struck with a trained ease. Deacon paused the video at a face-first shot of the man, and zoomed in. Yeah, she remembered that face. Hard jaw, and determined lip. A look of disgust.
"Enlighten me. What did he do?" Deacon ordered. "How did he fight?"
"Well. Really fucking well. You can see for yourself. Sometimes he's so fast he blurs on tape. He's got a really big fucking sword, really big fucking guns with silver and he knows how to use them." She realised that Deacon was looking at her, and that she still hadn't put on the bra. But he wasn't looking at her breasts. He was looking at her face and considering what she's saying.
"Anything else?"
She looked back at the computer screen and frowned. "His weapons and his armour are customised. I haven't seen anything like it. He's too fast for a normal human – maybe drugs. It looked as if he wanted to kill as many people as possible."
Deacon tapped his fingers against the glass table, face in a sneer. He'd changed clothing from the night before, and was just wearing a white tshirt and jeans. He looked like any guy on the street, though he was too pale. It was attractive. Mercury wishes he had wanted sex after all. "You and Racquel are responsible for finding this fucker. No one fucks with Deacon Frost, and gets away with it."
He turned back to her. "This is priority. I don't care what it takes, you can forget security. I want this piece of shit found, and his head brought to me on a fucking silver platter. And then I want you to kill his family, his friends, his boss, his hairdresser and everyone he knows. Got it?"
She nodded.
"Alright." His face was suddenly calm. "The guy calls himself Blade. He's hit vampire hotspots before, but this is the first time he's come in from the streets. The House of Erebus are pissed because he killed a few of their familiars. Up to now, he's been small. There are groups of fifty hunters sometimes, so a single hunter isn't going to rouse much trouble. But this guy, this Blade is different. Like you said, he moves too fast. I want to know why. I want to know why no one could take him down and why he's hunting us. I want to know everything about him, including exactly how his weapons are made and work."
"I can do that." Blade. She'd heard that name before, but it was only rumours from the street. She'd heard about Deacon Frost's eyes being like blue fire, and turning people into stone too. Vampires were too goddamn superstitious. He didn't look anything like the Angel of Death.
"Good. You'll need Racquel to get in contact with the purebloods. I'll give you security clearance for any tapes you need. But keep it under wraps. I want everyone to know I'm looking for him, but I don't want everyone to know how." He finally looked back at her, and seemed to realise she was half-naked.
"Move in with Racquel. You have report to me every night, so you should be closer. Start with the club footage, and then arrange some business talks with the purebloods. Tell them I'll be there, doesn't matter if I'm not." He walked away from her and pressed a square hatch on the wall. A hidden door slid open leading to a bathroom.
"Wash up and put some fucking clothes on. You're coming to a little meeting with me. Think of it as short-notice bodyguard work."