Chapter 1

Ruby’s POV

The slow upward movement of the elevator made me question why I had not taken the stairs. I reeked of blood and sweat, and I could already feel them drying on my clothes. My feet tapped impatiently as I thought about the ice-cold water that would soon run down my body and the takeout that had been in my fridge since last night—a.k.a. my dinner for tonight. Again.

The elevator doors slid open, and as soon as I exited, I could tell that something was amiss. The smell of musk and earth entered my nose in a sniff. I felt for the blade strapped on my waist and grabbed it by the hilt.

The door of my office-slash-house remained closed. The darkness inside of it was visible through the frosted square glass with the sticker “SCARLETMARK,” and underneath it, my name: Ruby Carnelian. Working as a bounty hunter, I could never be sure what was waiting for me whenever I got home from a job. If that was the case, this would not be the first time.

I mean, if you’re out most days chasing supernatural creatures and devious humans, one of them—or someone who knows them—was bound to get some revenge on me of some sort. My fingers tightened on the hilt. It never hurt to be sure.

With light footsteps and my back almost touching the wall, I reached the door. With a deep breath, I swung it open and came face to face with a man waiting on one of the two chairs in front of my chipped wooden desk.

“Should I even ask how you got in here? Or should I just decapitate you?”

The man looked over his shoulder with a small smile. The hair on top of his head was thin, and the crooked glasses on his nose looked heavy. “Well, hello,” he greeted.

I did not put my knife away. “And you are?”

The man stood up; the light entering from my open window cast his long shadow on the floor. The coat he wore did not hide the muscles unexpected from a man who looked like in his fifties.

Another sniff in the air confirmed my theory: a werewolf. But not so much. A half-breed.

“Maximillian Marth,” he said and held out his hand, which I did not take. “I’m a customer,” he said and let his hand drop to his side. “Am I in the right place?”

“Depends on what you’re seeking,” I answered. When was the last time I had a werewolf here? It had been weeks—months, even. Sensing that there was no sign of imminent danger from this oldie, I strode to my chair, and I saw him wrinkle his nose in disgust as I passed. “Ghoul blood,” I explained and dropped on my computer chair, which had a missing wheel. “What do you want?”

Maximillian sat down. He moved with a certain awkwardness like he was not used to his size. “I was told that this is the place wherein I could avail services for a price.”

“Uh-huh,” I said and propped my feet on my desk. My back was killing me! “I can’t do a job tonight. I’m already exhausted.”

“Obviously,” he nodded towards my length. “I’m not in much hurry, so I thi—“

“What is it that you want?” I pressed. I stunk, and all I wanted was to get under the cold shower.

“Hasty and gets right down to business, okay,” he commented and pulled out a small notepad from his pocket, “as expected from a Fae.”

I refused to show any emotions by what he said.

He looked down in what could only be a sort of embarrassment before he tore a page. “I want this man captured and delivered to the address right there.”

A kidnapping. I almost smiled. It was my specialty and one of my most expensive services--second only to slashing one’s throat, of course. Maybe I’d be able to afford a water heater after this one. “I charge double if they’re supernatural, regardless of their size.”

“Money doesn’t matter,” said Maximillian proudly. I took another look at him, and I could tell that he did not have a vault of gold bars in his home.

“Fifty percent downpayment. The other fifty after the job is done.”

I grabbed the paper on the table and examined his writing. All the while, I pressed the button on my laptop, and it turned on.

Lincoln Morten.

“He’s human?” I asked, frowning.

“That’s not much of a weird task, is it?”

I shook my head. After two years of working in this field, I have learned that some supernatural creatures loan money or services to humans, and when they cannot pay back, they tend to go to the extremes when collecting debts. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Most of the time, they pay for their lives or years of service, or maybe a leg or an arm.

I was not one to judge. I was only here for the job.

Lincoln Morten’s face popped up on my screen when I pressed on my keyboard. Oh, he definitely looked like trouble. The smooth planes of his face covered his strong cheekbone and jaw. His eyes looked like they were ready to murder you.

“Just to be clear,” I clarified, “he’s human.”

Maximillian gave a slight nod. “Yes, he is.”

Lincoln Morten definitely looked like a mortal, but I have been tricked by customers who did not want to pay the right price. I always end up taking additional payments of my own. “Okay,” I said and rattled off the price.

A bag of money dropped heavily on my desk with a slight thud. “This should be enough,” said Maximillian. “If you can get him to me by the weekend, I’d put a bonus.”

I snorted. “You’ll have him by the weekend.”

I slid a finger over the mouse and found out that Lincoln Morten was an underground fighter. Coincidentally, he had a schedule for tomorrow. One that I could attend. “If I can give you him in less than twenty-four hours, would you triple the price?”

There was suddenly a maniac smile on Maximillian’s face—a smile that threatened to break his thin skin. “Even better. I’d pay you five times.”

Maximillian already started towards the door. Suddenly, my heart started to beat fast. Like I was doing something wrong, which I hardly felt in my life.

“Can I ask what you want with him?”

Maximillian grinned over his shoulder, his sharp white canines glinting in my lightless room. “It’s better if you do not know.”