By Faith Hunter
Jane Yellowrock, a shape-shifting rogue-vampire hunter-for-hire, is now taking blood cash from the very vamps she used to seek. yet issues commence heating up within the massive effortless whilst weres announce their life to the area, and revive the sour tensions that run among them and their outdated enemies -- vampires. Jane reveals herself stuck within the crossfire.
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Extra info for Mercy Blade (Jane Yellowrock, Book 3)
Running. Smell of deer in fear. On top of deer track was new scent. I stopped. Tested air, drawing in scents over tongue and through nose, long scree-sound of tasting-smelling. Growled. Hissed. Knew this scent. Wolves. Found prints, wide and big as Beast’s, claws digging deep. Wolves running. Chasing Beast’s deer. I tightened body, curling shoulders in to protect spine, paws close. Remembered long ago ... Wolves stole hunting territory, stole prey, making Beast hunger, belly hurting. Wolves and man brought hunger times, killed off good things to eat.
I interpreted “other needs” to be sexual in nature. “And now Gee and wolves both come home at a time when the vamps are in disarray following another war and coup attempt, and the appearance of were-kind on the world stage. ” “Not a war,” he said. “Not a coup. A war goes on a long time, between recognized opponents. A coup d’état means a change of leadership, usually by violence, which didn’t happen. It was a ... ” He seemed happy with the phrase, but most corporate reorganizations don’t leave a lot of heads lying around or blood splattered walls.
Stood and padded through night, around kill-site, around and around in widening circles. Like dog, hunting for scent. Hacked in displeasure, pausing, staring around at dark forest. Put head down, padded on. Sniffed. Big-cats do not hunt like stupid dogs with nose to ground. Brain not right for scent-hunting like dogs. Big-cats hunt with eye and ear, ambush hunt. But Jane in mind with Beast, made Beast do what other cats cannot. Found scent of another. Stood, motionless, front paw up. Head to ground, breathed in, drawing air through nose and over scent sacs in mouth, scree, scree.
Mercy Blade (Jane Yellowrock, Book 3) by Faith Hunter