Caleb rolled out of bed and picked up his discarded sweatpants from last night. The sound of voices carried from somewhere below, the words indistinguishable even with his enhanced hearing. Not to mention SPECTR’s “let’s load demons into soldiers and try to control them, because what could possibly go wrong?” initiative. Who the Vigilant were, he still didn’t know for certain, other than they opposed the government’s “all Non-Human Entities must die” policy. The room looked like a bed and breakfast, but was actually part of a mansion converted to a safe house by the Vigilant. “ Mortals make things needlessly complicated.”Ĭaleb stretched and sat up. Damned drakul might have a two-track mind, but unlike a human, Caleb always knew exactly where he stood with Gray. It’s all about food or fucking with you, isn’t it? Caleb shook his head, but his lips curved in a smile. Would you stop? We’ve got other things to worry about right now besides sex. The way he’d tilted his head to one side in invitation when Gray asked to taste John’s blood.Ĭaleb’s morning wood took on a new urgency. John stretched out on the bed beneath them, his eyes an uncannily brilliant blue in Gray’s amped-up sight. “ John left without us.” Disappointment, mingled with memories from the night before. The white sheets still held the musk of sweat and sex, mingled with the fading trace of John’s aftershave. Or maybe former special agent, given the events of the last twenty-four hours.
The rather fine body belonging to Special Agent John Starkweather, Strategic Paranormal Entity Control, aka SPECTR. So not alone, but also without the other body he’d expected to find. Oh sure, you’re the 5,000 year old demon-eating vampire, but I’m the one who’s strange. “ You are sometimes very strange,” Gray observed. The temporary roommate in his head had become permanent. He’d passed up the last chance to be rid of Gray, the entity who’d accidentally possessed him exactly forty-one days ago.
Alone wasn’t something he’d ever be again. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.Ĭaleb opened his eyes and found himself alone in bed. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Summoner of Storms (SPECTR #6) © 2014 Jordan L.
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