Hunting the Hunter (Second in Lone Wolf series)

Chapter Thirteen

Vaughn watched Brendon ride out of town with a loaded wagon, a tiny girl and the vampire he had been charged with killing.

Farris had not trusted Brendon to get the job done. Farris had been certain that Brendon was compromised, that his loyalty was no longer with the council or his job.

It turned out that Farris had been correct.

Not only had Brendon failed to complete his job and kill the guilty vampire, but he had killed two innocent vampires, pulled their fangs and ran off with the vampire he’d been sworn to kill.

If Vaughn was a betting man he would say that Brendon planned on lying to the council. A Hunter lying to the Council he was sworn to serve?! The very thought was preposterous!

Vaughn had never understood why the Council put up with Brendon. Yes, he was a good killer. Yes, he was a good tracker and yes, he generally got the job done in some form or fashion but he was a loose cannon. Hot-headed, temperamental and sarcastic. He didn’t appreciate what an honor it was to be a Hunter.

True Vaughn had only been living this life for a quarter of the time that Brendon had but even he knew he was a better Hunter than Brendon.

It was about time the bastard got what was coming to him. Brendon thought he was above the rules just because he was one of the oldest remaining true Hunters. Most Hunter’s were killed long before they reached Brendon’s age.

Vaughn would prove that he was the best. Brendon would fall and it would be Vaughn that brought him down. He would send word to the council, tell them of Brendon’s deceit and then he would kill the vampire and prove that he was more than just Farris’s favorite. He would prove that he deserved everyone’s respect.

Vaughn smiled and pocketed the gold coin he’d been tossing. Life had just gotten a little brighter.

***

“We get to sleep outside?!” Maggie exclaimed the next night as Brendon brought the wagon he had rented to a halt beside a small forest of oak trees. A trickling stream just down the hill would provide their horses and themselves with water.

Brendon looked up at the clear sky and scented the air. As far as he could tell there wasn’t any rain for miles.

“Sure do.” he replied with a grin. Maggie’s face lit up and her smile seemed to stretch from ear to ear.

“Wow! It’s like I’m a real live outlaw!” she exclaimed as she clapped her hands and jumped up and down in the new gingham dress that Brendon had bought at the shop for her. He had paid a small fortune for a ready made dress and a pair of special shoes, that thankfully had already been on order for the girl, but it had been worth it to see the way her eyes had lit up at the sight.

“An outlaw?” Brendon asked with amusement. He was aware of Ella walking down to the water. She hadn’t said a word to him all day. She had simply obeyed every request he had made and kept her head down.

She had told Maggie that they were going to take a trip together, just the three of them and while the girl hadn’t understood why she couldn’t say goodbye to Widow Callahan and her friends, she had been very happy to be going on a trip, since she had been in that orphanage for her entire life that she could remember.

“Yeah. Are you an outlaw? You look like an outlaw.” Brendon shook his head as he went about unhooking the horses from the rigging.

“Naw, I’m no outlaw. And you shouldn’t want to be one either. Outlaws are bad men. They break the law and take things that don’t belong to them.”