Chapter 8
Piper
Tristan was as chatty as they came. At least, for a vampire hunter. He’d done nothing but talk my ear off the whole tour of the headquarters. I’d seen the rec room, the weapon galley—which, coincidentally, was not the wall of torture devices in the common area—and the kitchen. All that was left were some offices and the sleeping accommodations. That, to my disappointment, were little more than soldiers’ barracks. Everyone slept in a tiny bunk bed that didn’t even constitute as a twin.
Looked like finding some privacy to report in was close to nil. I’d have to figure out something else.
“I’m bunking here.” Tristan pointed to his spot on the bottom bunk three rows into the first room. Yep, there were rows. Each bunk had its own footlocker and that was it. Nothing else. Apparently, the hunters were akin to monks, minus the celibacy based on the way Tristan kept eyeballing me like a cupcake whenever he thought I wasn’t looking.
I grunted in response. It was my go-to answer. I didn’t want to talk too much. I knew myself, and if pressured, I’d spill my guts like a newbie on their first sea voyage. Tristan didn’t seem to take offense to my lack of answers, so I decided to stick with it.
“You could take the one next to me…” Tristan rubbed the back of his head, pointing toward a bed one bunk over.
I took the crossbow off my back and sat it on the bed before sitting next to it. I bounced a little bit to see if it was softer than it looked. No such luck. Might as well be sleeping on a rock.
“The last person died during the raid in Paris. If it hasn’t been picked over— ”
“Paris?” I perked up, my brows rising. “Like France?”
Tristan smiled, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “No, sorry. Texas. We don’t get many destination places. Vampires tend to gravitate toward smaller towns. Easier to hide out. Frankfurt was one of the biggest raids we’ve had in a while.”
I grunted again.
“Anyway...” Tristan moved over to the footlocker. “You can put your stuff in here.” He lifted the lock on the locker with a frown before dropping it. Then he kicked the lock with his heavy boots and the lock clattered to the floor. I made a startled sound in my throat but then covered it with a cough. Flipping the lid, he shuffled something around inside. “You can have whatever they left behind or trash it.” He lifted a pair of fuzzy handcuffs with a grin before twirling them around one finger.
My lips ticked up.
He pointed the cuffs toward a box on the wall at the beginning of the room. “That’s the donation box. You can put whatever you don’t want in there.” He winked and folded the handcuffs up before tucking them into his back pocket.
“So…” Tristan trailed off as if unable to think of something else to keep himself there longer. “Chow time is at eighteen hundred hours. Breakfast is at oh seven hundred. Feel free to find me if you need anything.” He pointed toward his bunk. “You know where to find me.”
I inclined my head.
Seeing that I wasn’t going to continue the conversation, Tristan nodded back and headed toward the barracks’ door. At the last moment, I realized something. Something that had been bugging me.
“Uh, hey, Tristan.” I stood and jogged the few feet to catch up to him. Tristan stopped and turned back to me, hope springing into his eyes. “Uh, do you know if they brought back anyone from Frankfurt? Another vampire?”
Tristan’s brow furrowed. “No, they killed them all. Except for the nest they’re still hunting. Even that creepy ancient vamp.” His lips curled up at the edges. “You know, I heard he looked more monster than human. With clubbed hands and fangs down to his chin.” He put his fingers up to his face like fangs.
I chuckled. “Not clubbed, but good. Good. That’s good.”
“You saw him?” Tristan’s brows raised.
Crap. This was why I grunted.
“Uh, yeah, briefly. But I was chasing down one of the other bloodsuckers.” I hated to talk about the guys like that, but if I was going to do this, I had to go all the way. “But it’s good to know that demon is really dead.” I shuddered and it wasn’t fake.
A heavy hand sat on my shoulder and my head whipped up. “I get it. This job is hard sometimes. It’s best when the demon looks like what they are.” His eyes grew dark, his mind going somewhere else. “It’s harder when they look like fallen angels with hair the color of spun gold and eyes so green, emeralds were jealous. They make you feel so lucky to just be in their presence.” He sighed and shook his head, and whatever memory that had held him cleared from his eyes.
“Yeah.” I patted him on the arm as well, my heart full of emotion. “I’ve been there.”
“But,” Tristan’s face hardened, “in the end, they’re all demons. Some just wear a pretty mask. They all deserve one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“A stake through the heart.” Tristan ended with a finality that chilled my blood. “Anyway,” his expression brightened and he squeezed my shoulder, “I’ll let you know when the vamp gets here and then the real fun begins.”
I forced a smile. “Thanks.”