Hunting Human

by Amanda E. Alvarez

  “You awake?” He whispered.

  “What time is it?”

  “Early, not yet five.”

  “Then, no. No, I’m not.”

  Braden walked into the room and switched on the bedside lamp. “Come on. You’ve got just enough time to brush your teeth.”

  “What are you talking about? Where are we going?” Beth sat up and pushed her hair away from her face.

  “We’re going out. On a hunt. We can shift up here instead of outside if you’d like. I’ll leave the bedroom door open,” he promised with a grin.

  “Yeah, here’s good,” Beth answered uncertainly. “Um, what exactly are we hunting?”

  “Deer, probably.” Braden caught her hand in his and dragged her out of bed. “Relax. If nothing else, you’ll enjoy the run.”

  Though she didn’t want to, Beth allowed herself to be pulled into the bathroom. She couldn’t imagine why Braden sounded so excited. Did predatory instincts grow the longer a person spent as a wolf? Would she slowly become more primal, more violent? Would she even notice?

  “Hey.” Braden caught her gaze in the mirror as she rinsed her toothbrush. “You’re worrying too much. I know you don’t believe me right now, but you will enjoy this. It’s another way to integrate with your wolf. You’ll gain new insights on the instincts that drive it, the things that excite it.”

  “I don’t want to hunt something down and kill it just because the wolf thinks it’s fun.”

  Braden blocked her as she tried to push past him to the bedroom. “It’s not like that.” He sighed. “Look, I understand why you feel this way, but you’ve only seen the ugliness. There’s beauty too, Beth. If you look for it.”

  “Not for me.” She couldn’t understand how there could be beauty in the death and destruction of an innocent. “I’ve accepted that this is a part of my life. I’m learning how to live with it. I don’t need more than that.”

  Braden jerked away and turned his back to her. “You know, as long as you think like that, the harder this—” he gestured loosely to the space between them, “—is going to be. If you can’t accept that part of yourself, it’s like saying you can’t accept me, Beth.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Come with us this morning. I won’t ever ask again, but this is something you should experience.”

  Before she could formulate a response he slid into his wolf form. “Shifting to avoid an argument isn’t fair.”

  Braden cocked his head and gave her a pointed look as if to say, “I can still hear you.”

  Beth sighed. “Just once?”

  He nodded.

  “Fine.” Beth slipped out of her T-shirt and underwear and slid into the shift, blocking out all of the reasons why she was doing it in the first place.

  The morning was cool and moist, a thick mist lingering above the grass and winding between the trees, growing heavier as the sun rose. In the first hour they hadn’t done much more than walk and sniff around. Occasionally, Chase or Braden would pick up a trail of something and they’d surge forward, but each time the trail had died out.

  For Beth, at least, the lulls in the hunt were more interesting than anything else. It amazed her how much of the siblings’ personalities came through as wolves. The three of them were so dynamic and different as people—she wondered that it surprised her that it held true when they were wolves.

  Braden was never far from her, always hovering to her right or to her left, silently ensuring she was comfortable. He only left her side when Chase picked up the trail and, even then, she knew without a doubt that Braden instinctively kept track of her and his siblings, at all times. A big brother, even as a wolf.

  Chase was different. Steadier, calmer. He moved with purpose and intent, much the way he spoke when human. He used every ounce of his instincts as a wolf to whatever purpose or task he shouldered. His gray eyes were as keen and piercing as when he was human; they could convey a message precisely. Except when he showed a restrained sort of deference to Braden, he used very little body language.

  Lucy—well, Lucy was Lucy. Her personality was completely irrepressible. Even now, as they stood together, Lucy tracked a rabbit that kept darting between the trees. It was obvious by the way Lucy was twitching and moving that she was desperately fighting the urge to leap, completely heedless of success or consequences. She’d done so twice today, once after a squirrel and once after something Beth hadn’t seen. Each time Lucy ended up in an undignified heap in the bushes and each time she came up empty-handed. Beth was beginning to suspect that Lucy just liked the acts of leaping and pouncing and didn’t actually intend to catch anything. Even in wolf form, she was unfailingly effervescent and carefree.

  Just as she looked ready to pounce again, her head snapped toward Chase, the fur along her spine rising. A split second later Chase and Braden surged up the hill, intent on something Beth couldn’t see. She and Lucy broke into a run as Braden and Chase crested the hill and disappeared down the other side.

  As they broke over the rise, Beth saw an expanse of forest laid out before them. Braden and Chase were ghostly blurs, passing through undergrowth and maneuvering around trees as though they were born for it. Ahead of them, a tiny flash of white darted back and forth. Next to her, Lucy surged forward and howled. The deer’s tail twitched and flashed furiously as it increased its pace in an effort to escape.

  Beth opened her stride and raced alongside Lucy. Air rushed through her nose and down her throat, the scent of the doe imbedding itself on her senses, fueling her adrenaline and drowning out the voice that wondered what would happen when they caught her. Instead, she focused on the sensation of her muscles bunching and stretching, her lungs heaving, her heart pounding; she’d never felt so good. Relaxed and charged at the same time.

  Braden arced toward the right, zipping in and out of her vision, and Chase did the same on her left. Instinctively, Beth kept her pace and moved toward Braden, covering the landscape behind him. Lucy did the same for Chase. As they fanned out and accelerated, Beth admitted that there was something beautiful here, if she looked for it. The way that the four of them worked in synchronized harmony, coats shining and flashing in the patches of sun that pierced the leaves and mist, short howls heralding the hunt; it made a compelling picture. Fascinating. She imagined they looked a lot like the predators on television. Beautiful, powerful, lethal.

  She burst into a clearing, automatically tracking Braden. She and Lucy moved in, tightening the noose that ensnared the deer. She couldn’t see Chase but knew he was close.

  The clearing was open on the sides but steep at the back. She, Braden and Lucy had effectively trapped the doe. Every instinct in her urged her to leap forward, fasten her jaws around the doe’s throat and make the kill. Distantly, Beth acknowledged she knew exactly how to do it, exactly how much pressure it would take to bear the doe to the ground, how to break her neck. She felt her muscles coil, the wolf ready to leap at her command.

  She didn’t move. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her muscles quivered in anticipation and air rushed over her snout. Her brain processed the scent of the deer’s desperation. But she didn’t move. The wolf inside her thrilled at the chase and longed to lunge and finish the hunt. But Beth didn’t. Seizing control, she sat on her quivering haunches and scanned the woods around them. Braden and Lucy prowled about the periphery, boxing in the doe, but neither of them moved in for the kill either.

  Movement at the top of the rise, directly above the deer caught Beth’s attention. She jerked her head up in time to see Chase’s sleek body appear at the ledge, then leap, muscles flexing under a shiny coat, legs pulled up beneath his body, completely focused on his prey. He landed against the doe’s back with a heavy thud. The force of his jump and the weight of his body brought her down beneath him, sending them both tumbling across the forest floor. His jaws grazed her throat as they rolled, but didn’t snap shut and make the kill in the way Beth expected.

  Instead, Chase pulled his teeth back and allowed the momentum of his leap
and roll to carry him away from the doe, allowing the frightened animal to rise and race in a blind panic toward Lucy. Chase watched the animal go, tracking it as it disappeared into the forest, straight past Lucy who couldn’t have looked less interested.

  Amazement flooded Beth; Chase hadn’t missed the doe’s throat, he’d never intended to kill her in the first place! She finally understood what they’d all been trying to tell her—what her own experiences had shown her.

  My decision. My control.

  She wondered at the simplicity of the revelation all the way home and through the rest of the day.

  ***

  “You were quiet today,” Braden said, leaning against the bedroom door.

  “Just thinking.” Beth flipped off the light in the bathroom and took a seat on the bed. She gestured Braden forward when he took a hesitant step into the room.

  “Yeah?” He asked, sinking down next to her on the mattress. “What about?”

  “A lot of things. But mostly this morning.”

  “Are you sorry you went with us?” He asked, trailing his fingers through her damp hair.

  “No. It clarified some things for me, answered some questions.” She watched, distracted as her hair caught his retreating fingers. Was there any part of her that didn’t want to constantly reach for him?

  “Any questions left? I can fill in the blanks,” he offered, dropping his hand and pulling up a knee.

  “About a thousand.”

  “Start with number one, we’ll work from there.”

  “How old were you when you changed?” she asked, scooting closer to him.

  “Fifteen. I was supposed to wait until I was sixteen, but Chase came along so Dad let me take the bite a year early.”

  “Chase, he’s adopted isn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Braden confirmed, toying with the edge of the bedspread.

  “He’s one of the kids you told me about, isn’t he? One of the ones the Bolveks turned.”

  “He’s my brother, Beth.” He searched her face for a long moment. “He was eleven when my father found him.” He turned his head toward the door. “Sometimes I wonder if he realizes how completely we’ve assimilated him into this family, but he’s as much my brother as Caleb is. He’d never hurt you.”

  She gently squeezed his knee. “I didn’t mean it like that. But sometimes I’ve noticed that he holds himself apart…Or is particularly respectful or deferential, especially around your father. I’d wondered,” she admitted.

  “We don’t talk much about Chase’s circumstances before he came here,” he offered, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.

  “Okay. Next question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “What about the legends? Are any of those true?”

  “Specifically?”

  “Silver bullets?” All the ridiculous things she’d read online over the years crowded her mind.

  “Nah. Regular ones work just fine. But we do heal faster than most people. No one’s sure why,” he said, trailing fingers along her calf, never breaking eye contact.

  “Um, what about… mates…” God, she could feel the blood rushing to her face. “Is that true? Is that why you can’t seem to stop touching me, even when you aren’t aware of it?” she asked, half embarrassed, half pleased to see him wince and jerk his fingers away.

  “We don’t mate for life, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “But…” She prompted.

  “But, some of us believe that the part of us that is wolf responds more strongly to some people. It seems to be particularly potent when our kind falls into bed with each other. No one is sure why. It doesn’t happen very often.”

  “Why not?” She watched, amused, as he picked as his fingernails, keeping his hands occupied and away from her.

  “Because you are so rare.” He caught her gaze and said seriously, “You and Lucy are the only female werewolves I’ve ever met, though I know of at least a half dozen.”

  “How many werewolves are there?”

  “Thousands. But for most, it’s a life they chose. It tends to appeal more to men than to women. It makes you coveted with most werewolves. Hell, more than a few have approached my father about courting Lucy.”

  “I bet she loves that.” Beth laughed.

  “She handles it well. And they always leave disappointed. Next question?”

  “In the dressing room, Markko mentioned your family by name. I know you explained the history between your families, but you’d also mentioned a mythology. What is it?” That question had settled in the back of her mind, but as she grew more comfortable she found her curiosity grew as well.

  “As the story goes, a thousand years ago, two brothers fought a war over land and people. The younger one was defeated and ostracized. According to the story, he beseeched Odin to grant him the power to avenge his honor and defeat his brother. Odin sent his emissaries, a pair of wolves, and gifted him with the bite. He was the first werewolf. According to the legends he turned the men still loyal to him and led devastating raids against the villages of his brother’s kingdom. When his brother found out what was happening, he prayed to Odin to give him the power to stop his brother. He was the second werewolf. But there was a price attached. According to mythology, Odin desired a war that would last the ages. The two lines were destined to fight with each other until one extinguished the other. That’s never happened.” His fingers slid back and forth across the back of her hand.

  “You’re saying that your family and Markko’s are direct descendants? That sounds…well, crazy.”

  “About as crazy as werewolves in general, right?”

  “Yeah.” She let her fingers unfurl so he could continue tracing idle patterns on her palm.

  “I know. But that’s the story. For as long as a blood relative of the Bolvek’s remains, we’ll always be at odds with them.”

  “What about all of the people they’ve bitten? Are they tied into this?” Was she? The thought unsettled her enough to pull her hand away from him. Was she considered an enemy? Someone destined to fight with Braden and his family? The thought sickened her.

  “No. It doesn’t work like that. The lineage only passes down through bite and blood. So in your case…” He pulled her hand back and squeezed her fingers reassuringly, “…you couldn’t pass on the lineage because you aren’t genetically related, though you do bear the Prime marking.”

  “Marking?”

  “Yeah, the mantle. We all have it. Everyone related to one of the original descendants by bite or by blood bears the Prime Mantle.” He lifted his hands and let his fingers trail over the top of her head and around her ears. “It’s a patch of darker fur that drapes like this.” When his fingers hit her shoulders he laid his palms flat against her and stroked her arms until he found her wrists. “Sort of like a cloak. You’ve never noticed? Yours is a slate gray.”

  “I’ve never looked.”

  “Never?” He sounded genuinely shocked.

  She shook her head. “I never wanted to see. But I noticed the same marking on you and your family. I just didn’t realize it was significant.”

  “Yeah. It’s just a marker.” His hands trailed back up her arms, coaxing the breath from her lungs in short, quick bursts. “And since it appears if you were either bitten by a Prime wolf, or if you’re related to one, it isn’t a good means of identification.”

  “Oh.” His words faded into the background as he threaded a hand through her hair and used the other to stroke a thumb across her upper arm.

  “Any other questions?”

  “Yes…” She answered, leaning into the palm that cupped her cheek. “But I can’t remember what they are now.” She could smell him against her, strong and potent and so very enticing.

  “I’m sure they’ll come back to you,” he murmured, his voice a whisper that slid over her sensitized skin like a caress. “Let me know when they do.”

  She caught his hand as he pulled away. “Don’t.” She leaned toward him and a
llowed herself to press her lips to his, fascinated by the feel of him dropping his hands, fists clenching the sheets as though they could anchor him.

  “Don’t go,” she repeated as she pulled him against her, controlling their descent against the pillows stacked behind her. “Stay.”

  He braced himself above her, holding his body a scant few inches above hers. “Beth…” He groaned when she reached for the waistband of his jeans.

  “Stay,” she said again, and tilted her mouth to follow the statement with a kiss. She let her tongue dart against his lips. Reveled in the taste of him. In the texture of his lips as they came alive under her own.

  He collapsed and rolled, pulling her with him until their bodies were flush, the strength of his need clear against her thigh.

  As he brought his lips to hers, Lucy’s screaming pierced the air.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Braden placed the last of the deer’s remains in the tarp and bent to help Chase and his father load it into the back of their truck. This morning, when Lucy had stepped out onto the back porch, she’d slipped on the dismembered remains of a deer, screaming as she’d taken in the carnage. It had taken Braden, Chase and their father most of the morning to clean up the mess. Even now, as they loaded up the remains of the deer and washed off the porch, Braden knew that no matter how clean they got things, it would take a long time before any of them could relax on the back porch. He’d never seen his sister that ashen or Beth that grim.

  “How the hell did Markko accomplish this?” Braden’s anger tightened his voice. “How did he get this close without our knowledge?”

  “I don’t know,” Chase answered quietly as he slammed the truck’s tailgate closed.

  “I thought you were checking the woods? How could he have gotten all the way up to our house without leaving some sort of sign behind? A trace of smell, footprints, something.”