Kyl frowned at her. "What?"
"Leo said there was a Dark-Hunter Web site, but I don't think I have the right URL."
He laughed at her. "You didn't put the dash in between Dark and Hunter, did you?"
She looked at the field and realized he was right. "No."
"Put it there and try again."
Susan did and breathed a little easier as the right page came up. It was all black-and-white. "How very monochromatic."
Kyl snorted. "It's easier on the Dark-Hunters' eyes. They're a lot more sensitive than human eyes. The dark background is the easiest one for them to read. "
Hmmm, that was interesting. "Why's their sight different?"
"If you'll read your manual, which should be used for information and not a doorstop, you'll see that since they hunt during the night, they have special night vision. Their eyes are always dilated, so bright light is painful to them. It's why many of them wear dark sunglasses even indoors."
Tucking that away into her brain in case she ever needed to blind one of them, Susan clicked for the Dark-Hunter profiles and paused as she saw Ravyn Kontis's name. Oh, it was too much to resist. Clicking on it, she quickly read what they had listed for him.
It was actually highly fascinating. He was born in ancient Greece-304 B.C. to be precise. Dang, he was an old coot. She hoped she looked that good at two thousand plus years.
She somehow doubted it though.
But as she was reading, she realized that the Were-Hunters, the shapeshifting branch in all this, didn't live normal life spans. Rather, they lived for hundreds of years and, unlike humans, they didn't have to live chronologically. They could move through time.
Impressive, but it also begged one major question. "Is Ravyn's family still alive?"
Kyl paused in his typing. "Technically yes, but no, not really."
"What do you mean?"
"Ravyn's a Were-Hunter. They're cousins to the Apollites and to the Daimons who are hunted by the Dark-Hunters. Since they share the same bloodline, many of the Were-Hunters run sanctuaries that protect the Daimons from the Dark-Hunters. Because of that, Ravyn was denounced when he became a Dark-Hunter. He's not allowed near any of his kinsmen in any incarnation."
Susan's heart clenched. Having had her own father turn his back on her, she fully understood the pain of rejection. But at least she'd never known her father. How much worse would it be to have someone she loved turn her out?
"Here in Seattle. His father owns one of the sanctuaries just a few blocks over."
Her jaw dropped at that. "And none of them ever talk to him?"
He gave an odd half laugh. "Nooo." He stretched the word out with meaning. "They're not even allowed to say his name. He's completely dead to them."
"If they felt so strongly about that, why did he become a Dark-Hunter?"
Kyl shrugged. "You'll have to ask him."
"Hey, Kyl?"
They both turned to look at the doorway where Jack stood in the small opening. "Have you heard anything from Brian?"
"No, why?"
"We sent him over to check on Cael, but he hasn't come back yet and he's not answering his phone."
Kyl scowled. "That's weird."
Jack agreed with him. "We thought so, too, and it's dusk already. Should we send someone after him?"
Kyl hesitated. "Has the sun set?"
"Ten minutes ago."
He cursed.
Susan was perplexed by his hostility. "Is that bad?"
Both men gave her a "duh" stare. But it was Kyl who answered. "Just a little bit. At sunset, the Daimons are free to prowl." He let out a tired breath. "Man, times like this I really miss home."
"Home?" she asked.
"New Orleans. Down there, the Daimons are much more laid-back and tend to take their time before they hunt. Up here, they're way too caffeinated. As soon as the sun sets, they call for parties." He looked at Jack. "How many Blood Rites are around here right now?"
"You and Leo. Otto should be back in a few and Jessica later tonight."
Kyl stroked his chin as he considered that. "Let me know the instant Otto gets back and we'll go check on Brian."
There was something in his demeanor that struck her. He was scared and trying hard not to show it. After Jack left, she got up and approached him. "What are you not saying?"
His face turned stoic and cold. "Nothing."
Yeah. Right. Susan cocked her head and narrowed her eyes on him. "Look at me, Kyl. No bullshit. I used to be one of the best reporters in this country and if there's one thing I know, it's body language. And yours tells me that you're lying about 'nothing.' "
He dropped his gaze and took a deep breath. Deep sadness darkened his eyes as he rubbed his right biceps. "I probably shouldn't tell you this since it'll only scare you, but what the hell? If I'm right, you need to know." He paused a few seconds as if he were gathering his thoughts before he spoke again. "We had a bad situation about eighteen months ago in New Orleans. A real bad situation. We lost a lot of good people in one night, including one of my best friends and his mother."
It was obvious that he was still haunted by that night and her heart went out to him. There was nothing worse than trying to deal with tragedy.
"And you think this is going to be the same?"
His gaze burned her. "It's just a feeling I have. I know it sounds hokey. But I'm a Creole with a long line of people who know the mojo. As my grandmother would say, 'I can feel the evil on the wind.' It's the same feeling you get whenever someone steps on your grave."
Okay, now he was really beginning to freak her out.
All of a sudden, there was a loud crash outside that sounded like someone trying to break down a wall.
Susan jumped as her heart lodged itself in her throat. Good grief, what was happening now?
Kyl dashed from his seat, out of the room. Susan followed hot on his heels as he led her back toward the loading dock where there was a red Saleen S7 that someone had crashed into a Dumpster.
The door of the expensive sports car lifted open to show a young woman around the age of twenty, dressed as a Goth. Wearing all black except for her bloodred stockings and biker boots that had flames on them, she was cute enough as she leaped out of the car with bright blue eyes that were round in terror.
"Dammit, Erika!" Ravyn shouted from behind Susan as he joined them. "What have you done to my car?"
Susan put her finger in her ear and cringed as Ravyn bellowed as if he were in pain. She turned to see that he was dressed in a pair of black jeans, with a loose button-down black shirt that was opened at the neck. The look on his face promised Armageddon to the girl who'd damaged what appeared to be a prized possession.
Erika was completely undaunted by his rage as she ran up the dock and tossed her fuzzy black scarf over her shoulder before she confronted him. "Screw your car, Rave, straight up the sphincter. You can buy another one. I, on the other hand, am completely irreplaceable."