Bonedust

haggard and just exhausted. Taking a big breath in, he leaned his forehead against the cool glass.
    Dante Saunders. The name fled like wildfire through his mind. He had to find the man. The sooner he found him, the sooner Jeremie would die. And when the Bonemaster was gone, Gabriel would be free. But how would he find him if he didn’t look?
    Rolling his shoulders, he slid the gun back into its holster and pulled on the jacket he’d bought. He unlocked the door and swung it open, depositing himself into the night. He felt naked and terrified, like a newborn child without its mother. He locked the door behind him, stuffed the key into his pocket, and with a hand grazing the steel at his hip, hidden beneath his jacket, he breathed in the crisp night air.
    Dante Saunders.
    Where did you even start looking for a man like that?
    He started at a club called Thalion, music throbbing in sync with his heart. It was almost exactly like Feylinn, except for the fact that it was a little ritzier. Still, there were people dancing on the floor, people grinding their hips together in a sensual dance, and people hounding the bartender for drinks.
    Gabriel plopped down on a bar stool and rested his elbows on the counter. “I’ll have water.”
    “Staying sober’s not something people do here.” The bartend was a pretty girl with dark hair and even darker eyes, looking barely out of school. She smirked at him, but filled a glass with ice water and slid it toward him. “You must be new in Battery.”
    “Yeah. Just got here last night. Figured I’d stay for a little while. Nice place.” His heart began to pitter-patter behind his ribcage. Someone moved behind him and he jumped, twisting his head to try and see better. Lord, it was just some drunk. Relief whooshed out of him in a whistle.
    “Jumpy.”
    “You could say that.” He looked at her then. “I’ve actually got a question.”
    She rubbed a clean glass dry with a little towel. “I’ve got an answer: Green.” Her teeth were a perfect white.
    “I’m looking for someone. A man named Dante Saunders.”
    The chatter around him died and he glanced down the line, to the group of men drinking. They watched him, caution flashing in their eyes. One cleared his throat. Another took a shot, sputtered, and then got up and ambled off. He hit the wall twice in his drunken stupor.
    Nerves knotted in Gabriel’s stomach. “O…kay then. I’m guessing that’s a rough topic?”
    “You’re better off not finding that man,” the bartend said softly.
    “Rumor has it, he’s a cruel bastard, sharp-edged like a knife. You can hire him, but he’ll cut out your throat when the job’s done.”
    “He’s wanted high and low. They say he drinks the blood of newborns and bathes in the remains of their parents. He’s slaughtered endless families. Whatever you need him for, you’d be better off doing it yourself.”
    Great. How hard could it’ve been for Caine to send him to find someone sane? “So…he’s a vampire?”
    “One of the eldest vamps around. He’s strong and scary as hell.”
    “You’ve met him?”
    “Only seen pictures. He’s been in hiding for years. Or maybe he crawled off and died somewhere—I hope, for everyone’s sake, it’s the latter.” A man with a set of bushy black eyebrows frowned at him. “Sorry to burn your bridges, kid.”
    He shrugged a shoulder. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmured, turning back to his water. The ice was melting and condensation streaked down the glass. His throat was tight but he drank it, then stood. “Well. Thanks. That helps, I guess.”
    “Good luck staking your vampire,” the bartend said. Gabriel blinked at her. How did she— “Anyone looking for Dante Saunders has a vamp they need staked. Saunders is best at what he does: Eradication of his own damn species. Be careful, kid.”
    Gabriel, feeling sick to his stomach, headed out the door into the cool night.
    Goddess. Even if what the people had said were just rumors, Dante Saunders didn’t sound like a man he wanted to mess with. Especially if he was a vampire. His skin crawled just thinking about the brush of fangs against his throat. He groaned. What now? What did he do now? Crawl back to Jeremie with his tail between his legs, beg for his forgiveness? He’d never be able to stake the man on his own—Jeremie had too much control over him, thanks to the bonedust.
    His eyes landed on a little call booth, glowing bright in the darkness, a sign directly