The Weapon cache

Avery Evelyn sighted down the brand-new Uzi submachine gun as her brother Buck and the other hunters unloaded the fresh cache of weapons from the black panel van and stored them in the Evelyns' garage. The Uzi was a little piece of heaven. Nothing beat the feel of cold, hard steel—unless it was the rippling muscles of a well-built man.

Smirking, she thought of Ryan's naked torso, how well he filled out his jeans. His piercing eyes, those eyebrows she used to trace so fondly; and that five o'clock shadow and sexy bad-boy pout. She highly doubted that Buck knew she and two of his guys had paid Ryan a little visit yesterday. God, all those muscles. The last time she'd seen him, he'd still been in high school. Still a kid. A stupid, gullible kid, who should have died in the Harley house fire along with the rest of his family.

Talk about your loose end.

She pulled the trigger at a nonexistent target, imagining a vampire kill with the unloaded weapon. Maybe she should have taken advantage of Ryan while he'd been down on the floor, writhing from the nine hundred thousand volts she'd sent skittering through his kick-ass body. For old time's sake.

Kate was all about taking advantage.

"I have egg salad and cold cuts," Buck's wife, Catherine, announced as she brought out a tray of sandwiches from the house. Catherine was wearing jeans and a short-sleeved black turtleneck sweater with a lot of gold chains. Her pixie haircut set off her big blue eyes.

Avery highly approved of her sister-in-law's efforts to keep the troops well-fed. What was the saying? An army traveled on its stomach? It sounded gross, but it was true. And while you couldn't say they were an army, exactly, they definitely needed to keep up their strength. There was an Alpha in town, and two Betas, and in some ways, vampires were like the bunnies they were so fond of ripping to pieces: they tended to multiply.

And they tended to love sex. At least, Ryan did.

She sighed and put down the Uzi. Then she joined her brother as he examined a carton containing a bunch of Glock pistols. Firk, one of the guys who'd gone out hunting with her at Ryan's house, gave Avery a secretive nod as he stored a box of ammo inside a cabinet. His face was a little bruised from when Ryan had thrown him across the room. What had he expected, with his stupid joke about Ryan burying a bone in the yard? Of course, he had, hadn't he? His sister's bones.

The call on Ryan had been a rough morning for Avery's two henchmen, but it had also been fruitful, if in a dead-end sort of way. It was obvious to Avery that Ryan didn't know who the Alpha was, and her first impulse was to kill him, because he was therefore useless. But she was actually glad she'd failed. Because he was still very useful. Maybe they could flush out the Alpha by observing him. If only she could figure out who the second Beta was. Maybe the sheriff's kid. Maybe the one with the vampire claw marks on his neck. What was his name—Leo?

"Avery," her brother said, and she shook herself out of her reverie. "I asked you if you're weapons-qualified on these." He picked up one of the Glocks and held it out to her.

"Oh, yeah, I am," she cooed, wrapping her hand lovingly around the handle. "You have to watch for the slight recoil. But if you're prepared, this is a really sweet weapon." She smiled at him. "Like me."

His gray eyes were hooded as he studied her. "You've had a busy year."

"You know it, big brother. But you know I'm never too busy for you."

"You called me, remember?" he said.

"As soon as I heard," she replied. She flashed a sly grin at a hot Scandinavian type—total Thor material—walking behind her brother with a sandwich in one hand and a beer in the other. She'd like to chew that one up and swallow him whole.

"I'm going to get him for you, Buck," she told her brother. "That Alpha and his two Betas. For your birthday." She trailed her fingers along the gun, then set it back down.

"We do it by the code, Avery," Buck said, somber, stern. "Just like we always have."

Right. By the code. She looked at the weapons cabinet, already bulging with firepower. What are you going to tell Miley about all these new weapons? That you made a great sale to the Des Pontonniers Sheriff's Department and they're going to take over Strasbourg?

Miley's a good girl, he said automatically, and then a cloud passed over his face. Avery silently chuckled. Daddy's good girl had just cut her first day of school, and Buck had laid down the law—for about twelve hours. It was Miley's unbelievable good fortune that this weapons cache had arrived today. Buck was uneasy about how close Miley was getting to the truth about her family, so he had given her permission to "go study" at some girl's house.

Yeah, right. Avery would bet her soul that Miley was with some boy. That cute guy, Max, with the adorable brown eyes, to be specific. Warming the bench while he played lacrosse, with plans to warm him later. That little scamp had tried to snitch a condom out of Avery's luggage.

Protection is good, Avery thought. That was why she'd given Allison the necklace with the Beast on it. The Evelyns were surrounded by enemies, and the sooner Miley knew that, the better. Buck was crippling his daughter by keeping all their secrets . . . secret. What was going to happen when the really big guns showed up?

Miley was the new generation of a centuries-old family of hunters. The family. And they were locked in a war that wouldn't be over until the last vampire was dead—at least, as far as Avery was concerned. The code—We hunt those who hunt us—was an outmoded relic of a different time. It had never worked—look at their history. It sure as hell wasn't going to start working anytime soon. Not now, and not here.

Protection is vital.

You didn't used to care if Miley was home when you got a delivery, Avery said, pushing him a little. She knows you sell weapons, so what's the big deal?

He didn't answer, but he got a funny look on his face, and Avery was intrigued. Maybe there was some kind of new weapon in these boxes. Something designed specifically to take out vampires. She had her trusty bullets loaded with Northern Blue Monkshood, but she was always up for something new and different. Especially if it delivered an agonizing, painful death.

I thought I'd shot that Beta when I came into town, she mused. If I had, it would be dead. Maybe what I hit was just a bat blood sucking human.

Avery? Sandwich? Catherine invited her, holding out the tray. Avery grinned and took two sandwiches, one for each hand. I'm starving, she declared.