The Rogue Hunter Read Free

could creep up on people around a campfire, lure someone into the trees for a bite, and be gone without ever being seen."
    Mortimer grunted in agreement, his attention on the small, green, numbered markers among the foliage on the side of the road. Each glowed brightly in the headlight's beam and each marked a driveway that disappeared into the trees, leading to cottages that they couldn't see from the road. Their cottage turned out to be the last one leading off the gravel road. Mortimer steered them down the dirt lane, wincing as they bumped over ruts and rocks. They traveled through trees for at least a full minute before the headlights flashed on a brown building ahead.
    "Welcome to the boonies," Bricker said with a sneer. Holding on to the strap above the passenger door to steady himself during the bumpy ride, he added almost under his breath, "This so isn't my bag."
    Mortimer smiled faintly and admitted, "It isn't really my bag either, but it's someone's or we wouldn't be up here."
    "Right. Our rogue," Bricker muttered unhappily.
    "And Decker," he pointed out. "It's his cottage we're using as a base while we're up here."
    "Yeah, but he always was a strange bird," Bricker said. "Only he would enjoy living at the end of the world."
    Mortimer smiled faintly at the insult to their comrade Decker Argeneau Pimms. As hunters for the Council, they often worked in concert with other teams, and more often than not, they seemed to be put together with Decker and his partner Anders. The four of them got along well and liked one another, but you wouldn't know that from the way they insulted one another.
    "Well, I can't argue with Decker being strange," Mortimer said with amusement, and then pointed out, "But cottage country is apparently attractive to at least one other immortal too. It had to have been an immortal who spotted the bite marks and reported them to the Council."
    That report was the reason they were here. Biting mortals was forbidden, and the Council had sent them up here to cottage country to look into it. They were to find the culprit and bring him—or her—back for the Council to deal with.
    "Do we know who made the report?" Bricker asked curiously.
    "I'm sure Lucian knows, but he didn't tell me who," Mortimer said, and then added, "I guess it really isn't important anyway."
    "No," Bricker agreed, and then breathed, "Jesus," as Mortimer killed the car engine and the headlights blinked out at once, leaving them in a black and silent world.
    The darkness was so absolute, Mortimer could almost believe they had reached the end of the earth and were now staring off into the emptiness of space. He didn't comment, however, but merely sat, waiting for his eyes to adjust. After a moment or so, the solid black around them gave way to differing shades of gray as well.
    "Do you hear that?" Bricker asked in hushed tones.
    "What?" Mortimer asked with a frown. He didn't hear anything.
    "Nothing," Bricker said dryly. "Absolutely frigging nothing."
    Releasing his breath on a soundless laugh, Mortimer grabbed his knapsack from the backseat, opened his door, and unfolded himself from the car. He then began to stretch and bend beside the vehicle to get his circulation going again. While they'd stopped several times along the way, this last bit of driving had been the longest, and he was stiff from the journey.
    "Jesus."
    The repeated exclamation, this time breathed with awe, made Mortimer glance sharply around to find Bricker standing in the frame of his open door, staring wide-eyed up at the sky. Eyebrows rising, Mortimer glanced up and found himself staring at a canopy of stars spread overhead like diamonds on a blue-black canvas. It wasn't a new sight to Mortimer. Before the world had become so crowded and electricity had been invented, every night had offered such a view. But of course Bricker wasn't old enough to recall that time, he realized, and glanced toward the awestruck man. "Nice, huh?"
    "I've never seen so many stars in