Midnight Hunter Book One in the Midnight Hunter Trilogy

It was late afternoon and Donna had tiptoed downstairs to curl up on the couch.

  Mo texted her. “Need 2 vent. Jamie sux.”

  Donna called her and then spent the next ten minutes hearing about what a sexist pig and selfish ass Jamie was. When her break was over and Mo assured Donna she felt better now, Donna stuffed the phone back in the pocket of her pink and purple robe and sat in silence, thinking. She stayed that way until her stomach grumbled. She headed toward the kitchen, but first she opened the door to the garage and wandered in there, folding her arms and frowning at the Mustang's busted grille and dented fender. It certainly wasn't the worst of her problems, but it was the only damage she could stare directly in the face.

  “Sorry about your car.”

  Donna jumped. “Can you warn me when you sneak up behind me, please?”

  “Then it wouldn't be sneaking.” Hunter nuzzled her neck, which made her stiffen. “I’m not going to bite you.” Those last words held a tinge of irritation.

  “I'm hungry,” Donna murmured. “As a mere mortal, I need to eat mortal food.” She skirted past Hunter without looking him in the eye. If he thought he could reveal that her life was in danger and then shut down when she wanted details, he had another thing coming. He followed her to the kitchen and leaned against the doorway. Donna stood over the sink, looking out the window to the backyard, shoveling in saltine crackers until her throat was so dry she could barely swallow. Crackers weren't her first choice of snack, but there was nothing else edible left in the house that wasn't broken or otherwise spoiled from her parents' childish outburst. She bit into her fifth handful of crackers when she felt that eerie and somewhat familiar feeling of somebody watching her. She looked behind her. Hunter was staring at his feet. She panned the backyard and there he was. The culprit was an unfamiliar boy, probably not much older than Samee, and he was leaning against Dad's garden shed. The boy's expression was that vacant, minion look Donna now knew all too well. She dropped the saltine box in the sink and stormed out through the back doorway. Hunter shouted after her.

  “Where are you going?”

  She didn't answer. She stomped across the patio and called to the boy. “What are you doing back here? This is private property.” He shrugged, so she went closer, hoping to scare him off, which she wasn't sure she could do in a short, flimsy, robe with nothing on underneath. Sure enough, he grinned at her and made a comment about how right now would be a good time for a wind gust to blow that robe up. Donna started to blush and that's when he lunged at her, swinging a pair of nun chucks. Donna screamed and backed away. He stepped closer, swung again. Then again. A breeze brushed by when the nun chucks passed her cheek.

  “Donna!” Hunter called from the back door. “Duck!”

  Without questioning it, she fell to the ground, smashing her face in the grass, and put her arms over her head. Something zinged past from above and crashed against the shed. A loud buckling of concrete followed. Donna looked up. The teenaged boy with the nun chucks had hurried to his car and was screeching in it down the alley. The shed looked like a bomb had exploded on it. She turned to look at Hunter, who was tucked in the shadows of the back doorway. He beckoned.

  “Get back over here, now.”

  She ignored him. “What in the hell did you throw?”

  “A frying pan.”

  Donna glanced back at the shed. “Are you sure it wasn't a live grenade?”

  “Donna, get back in the house, please.”

  “Dad's going to kill me.”

  “Unless that kid comes back and gets you first. Get in the house, now.” His tone, though bossy, was also loaded with panic. So Donna hurried back and wrapped herself in his arms. Then she cried.

  “What's happening to my life?”

  Hunter led Donna inside, then upstairs to her bedroom.

  “Stay here,” he instructed.

  “I don't want to stay here,” Donna cried. “I want you to tell me why that boy just tried to kill me.”

  “Shhhh.” Hunter placed a finger over his lips.

  “Why are you treating me like a child?” she whined.

  “I'm trying to protect you,” Hunter kissed her forehead. “Can't you understand that?”

  “I want to know what's happening to my life since you came into it, Hunter-with-no-last-name. Can't you understand THAT?”

  His brow lowered and he shook his head in frustration. “Please stop calling me that. It’s Deangelo. Just stay here. Please. I need to make a phone call.” He rushed down the stairs so quickly that it made her dizzy, and then he stood in the foyer to make the phone call.

  Deangelo…Donna Deangelo. She shook away the thought. Stop thinking like that, it’s ridiculous….And anyway, I’m too mad at him to marry him even if he asked.

  Donna crept to the doorway and listened in on Hunter’s phone call, at least the half she could hear.

  “Yeah, I need your help again,” his voice was barely audible, so Donna tiptoed to the landing and listened closer. Hunter wandered to the showcase living room and continued the conversation. Lucky for her, the acoustics were good in there. “Yes,” he continued, “it's about her again, but days only this time. I've got the nights...yes I know daylight costs extra...I realize how inconvenient this is for you...I don't care how under-appreciated you feel, I'm paying you to act, not feel...it's very important, yes...Whatever it's going to cost, just get it done.” He hung up and muttered what sounded like “greedy asshole.” A half-second later, Donna's phone rang. She reached in her robe pocket and pulled it out.

  “Hi, Mo,” Donna said. She descended the stairs, following Hunter to the living room. He paced the floor and rubbed his chin, barely noticing she was there.

  Mo's voice was concerned. “Donna? Are you okay?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Considering somebody had just tried to kill her.

  “Why weren't you on campus today?”

  “I had a migraine,” she lied. Why wouldn't Mo shut up and go away so Donna could talk to Hunter?

  “I hope it's gone by tomorrow because there's something you need to see.”

  “See?”

  “It's about the mayor,” Mo whispered. “And his unholy alliance with the Underworld. Oh shit, I gotta go.”

  “Mo, wait. What do you mean it's about the mayor?” But she had already hung up. Hunter leaned against the front door, folding his arms across his wide chest. He was ready to talk.

  “That kid wasn't going to kill you,” he rubbed his scruffy jaw. “His job was to kidnap you and take you to Stephen while I sat there and watched, unable to rescue you. According to my source, he was simply going to knock you out and drag you to his car, and then take you, unconscious, to Stephen.”

  “Your source?” Donna was curious. “Which vampire source can lurk around in broad daylight?”

  “The Underworld is not only for prisoners of the night.”

  Just like Samee had said. “Then your hit man isn't a vampire. Is he a minion?” She scowled. “Your minion?”

  Hunter shrugged. “The less you know the better.”

  “I certainly couldn't know much less than I do right now.” Donna plopped on the fancy-assed chair that was her mother's pride and joy, sunk deep in it, and groaned. “So, high school kids with nun chucks and vampires with police officers. Is everything in the Underworld after me?”

  “Not everything.”

  “But I'm not even safe in my own backyard.”

  “I'm sorry, Donna.” She had to admit, he really did look sorry. “Now you see why I tried to avoid getting you involved.”

  “Well, I'm involved. So now what?”

  “Nothing,” Hunter said firmly. You'll just go about your business and everything will be fine.”

  Donna swallowed hard and stared at her Eternal Partner, hoping for more. When it didn't come, she decided to take Hunter at his word. What other choice did she have? Maybe everything really would be fine. Or maybe she just wanted to believe that it would.

 
Because she did believe it.

  chapter thirteen