Free Darkest Heart by Nancy A. Collins Page B

place within his coat.
    "That's exactly what I'm talking about," I say, shaking my head in disgust. "Your understanding of their abilities and weaknesses, while impressive, is seriously flawed. You're good, but you're still just human.
    There are only a handful who possesses the ability to truly see these creatures for what they are, and most are madder than hatters. I can tell from looking at you that you don't possess extrasensory perception, so I'm assuming your awareness must come from personal contact."
    A startled look flashes across his face, as quick as a deer leaping in front of a speeding car, then disappears. "Who told you that?"
    I sigh and roll my eyes. People more intense than me wear me out. "Didn't you hear what I just said?
    Don't get paranoid on me, friend. I don't know a thing about you except what Jen has told me. But give me credit for adding two and two together and not getting five, okay?"

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    "You say I've been lucky so far. That's bullshit! I've got over twenty kills under my belt. That's more than just luck! You keep saying I'm just human. So what the hell does that make you?"
    "Come now, boy," I smile, flashing him a glimpse of fang. "Surely you know by now it takes one to know one."
    Estes' hand goes to the concealed holster nestled in his left armpit, but I grab his wrist and pin it to the table with enough force to slosh cooling coffee into the saucers.
    "I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Mr. Estes." I keep my voice even and low, as if calming a skittish animal. While I make sure the pressure on his wrist isn't painful for now, there's no way he can lift his hand without breaking his arm. "There are too many witnesses here, for one." I nod to the trio of college students sipping coffee and eating pie two booths over. "Neither of us is interested in harming uninvolved parties."
    "Since when has your kind ever cared about harming the innocent?" He spits the words out as if they've curdled in his mouth.
    "I am not one of them," I reply, trying to keep the anger from my voice. "Didn't I just handle your blessed silver crucifix?"
    He relaxes slightly, but remains tense, his brows knit in consternation. "Then what are you, if you're not undead?"
    I shrug and let go of his wrist. He yanks it away, studying it cautiously, like a man counting his fingers after a close encounter with a crocodile.
    "All I can tell you is that I am Sonja Blue, and I have been a vampire hunter for thirty years."
    Estes stops massaging his wrist and tilts his head to one side. "Thirty - ? How old are you?"
    "Forty-seven."
    "You don't look it."
    It takes me a moment to realize he is attempting humor. I smile crookedly. "Thanks."
    A long, uncomfortable silence falls between us. His eyes flicker over me, trying to decipher the enigma before him via whatever Rosetta Stone he has based his world upon. I skim the surface of his mind, careful not to create ripples that would alert him to my presence. I see hungry, dead eyes and a grinning mouth set in a dark face.
    "You're looking for one vampire in particular."
    Estes' eyes narrow in suspicion.
    "Don't worry. I'm not a mind-reader," I say, lying to his face. "It's just that those who hunt the undead have their reasons, and it's usually revenge. It certainly was in my case."
    Curiosity replaces the suspicion in Estes' eyes. "Tell me about it."
    I shrug. "It's the same old story. Girl has the world on a string. Girl meets handsome Prince Charming.
    Prince Charming turns into rapist hell-beast. Girl wakes up from a coma a year later with fangs and a thirst for blood. Girl spends the next twenty-something years trying to track down the bastard who stole her life and future away from her."
    Estes leans forward in his seat, his gaze focused on me as tight as a laser. "Did you find him?"
    "Yes. More than once, actually."
    "Did you kill him?" His breathing has become as ragged as that of an