by Cheree Alsop
The witch nodded. “Will do. My name’s Revna.”
“Zev,” I replied. I gave a wry smile. “But they call me Wolfslayer.”
That brought a smile to her face. She ducked away when the Hunters approached.
“Found your targets?” a man who went by the name of Monsoon asked. He glanced at the witch. “Good choice. She looks weak.”
He missed the angry glare the witch threw him when he turned away.
She then grinned at me and whispered, “I think I’m going to enjoy this.”
I nodded. “Me, too.”
Chapter Ten
Sutter’s voice crackled to life on my way back up the stairs. “Zev, you’re not going to like this.” He went silent for a moment, then said, “Virgo found the professor and he knows the cure for the demon bites.”
I tried to keep the elation from my face, but the fact that there was a cure smothered the fears I had been carrying deep inside. If there was a cure, I would do anything to find it.
“The cure is paranormal blood mixed with silver, but she has to drink it before her eyes turn completely black.”
I thought of the way the darkness had clouded the whites of Fray’s eyes. Her irises had also been so dark I couldn’t see the gray anymore. Were we too late?
“It says here in the professor’s fancy cursive handwriting that if her eyes go black, there’s no saving her. The demons would have won the fight for her soul.” His tone was filled with concern. “Zev, how bad off was she? I heard the threat. That was the demon, wasn’t it?”
I couldn’t answer. The rest of the Hunters were climbing the stairs around me. I limped slow enough that most went past, but Destroyer and Wolfkiller had somehow attached themselves to me and wouldn’t leave me behind. I wondered if Godnik had something to do with that.
“If she’s already turned, this thing is a bust and you should get yourself out of there,” Sutter continued. “You’re going to get yourself hunted along with the rest of them. What happens then? I know you don’t expect a rescue.”
I didn’t. There was no way I would ask for such a thing even if the Captain hadn’t already told me the Hunters were outside of their jurisdiction.
“This is a lose-lose, Zev. If Fray is that far gone already and they let her loose at midnight with the other targets, she might attack you just as easily as any other Hunter. She’s not herself.” He hesitated and then lowered his voice. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but she wouldn’t want you to risk everything for her, especially if she’s not even herself. She would be furious if I didn’t say something.”
I knew he was right, so I wouldn’t have argued even if I could have. But what I couldn’t tell Sutter was that if there was even a glimmer of a chance of saving Fray, I would try until my dying breath.
“Welcome to the armory,” Destroyer announced with a pleased grin when we reached the top of the stairs.
I couldn’t help staring. The entire ballroom had been transformed while we selected our targets. Tables ran down the entire length and were stacked with every weapon imaginable.
“And there’s some decent duds for you,” Destroyer said. He pointed to a rack near the far wall. A divider gave the privacy of a changing room for a few couples who were pulling items from the hangers. Destroyer grinned. “You sure gave us a laugh coming in all dressed like some deer spotter; thank goodness Godnik prepares for such a thing. The targets would smell you for miles.”
“Smell me?” I repeated. I kept the worry from my face that sprang from his words. Was there something about Demon Destroyer I didn’t know? Could he smell that I was a werewolf?
“Of course,” his wife replied. She laughed. “Everyone knows to wear scent-treated gear when they go on a hunt. Those werewolves would smell your store-bought plaids and either attack you or stay far away.” She winked. “You don’t want to leave it up to them, do you?”
“I don’t,” I replied.
“Yeah,” Sutter said in my earpiece. “Do you?”
I gritted my teeth and followed the couple to the clothes. I ducked behind the changing panel and came out wearing an armored black vest over a simple long sleeved black shirt, black padded pants, and shoes with soles soft enough that I could walk without making much of a sound. I wondered why the Division had gone for combat boots instead of something a bit stealthier.
“Much better,” Silver Wolfkiller said with a nod of approval. “You clean up nicely.”
“Hey,” Destroyer said.
“But you’re the only one who makes my heart sing,” she said to her husband. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a sound kiss.
“Alright, you two,” Godnik said when he walked by. “Let’s keep the affection to a minimum. This is a Great Hunt, remember?”
Wolfkiller and Destroyer took a step away from each other.
“Sorry, boss,” Destroyer said. “Sometimes I can’t help myself.”
Godnik merely shook his head and turned to me. “Time to choose your weapons. Every Hunter is allowed three weapons of his or her choice; you don’t know when you’re going to come up against someone else’s target, so I’d recommend getting a weapon for each type just in case. Remember, silver for werewolves, wooden bullets or stake shooters for dhampirs, and regular rounds for the witches and warlocks.” He looked at Destroyer as though they shared a private joke. “No use wasting anything fancy on the magicians.”
Destroyer laughed.
I pictured the warlocks and witches in the cells beneath us. If the iron had been removed from their hands, both men would be singing a different tune.
“Thanks for the advice,” I told him. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
The marks from Fray’s fingernails burned across my arm. I couldn’t help thinking of the way she had attacked me. Her expression had been so animal, so full of rage. My chest ached at the thought of the dhampir I loved trapped with the demons inside her body. I vowed to free her if it was the last thing I did.
I wandered among the aisles and kept an eye on the other Hunters. Many made quick selections as though they had already thought it through, but a few took their time as I did. I saw a woman caress a katana with loving fingers as if she had missed the deadly metal blade. A man with long hair in wild dreads who could have passed for a werewolf in human form if he didn’t smell like pastries and tea checked the sharpness of nails in a studded club. He hissed when it pricked his finger, then nodded and carried the club to the end of the row without caring that his blood dripped along the way.
“My gut says you need to get out of there,” Sutter told me. “Things are too complicated. First of all, it’s a Great Hunt with more Hunters than you can take down alone. Second, the woman you went to save is already enough of a demon that the cure probably won’t work, and third, you’re surrounded by people who act like your friends but will turn on you in a second if they knew what you were. You’re in terrible danger, Zev!”
“Weakness,” I whispered.
“What was that?” Sutter replied.
I glanced around. The closest Hunters were talking about the benefits of shotguns versus sniper rifles when it came to the various environments in the arena. I took a chance on them being too immersed in their conversation to overhear me.
I whispered louder, “Did you find a weakness?”
“Not yet,” the info tech replied. “That place is a fortress. I’ve never seen a security system with so many firewalls. I’d have a better chance walking through the front door than tampering with their cameras or remote defense systems. It’s going to take a miracle.”
I lowered my head to hide my voice in a cough and said, “Keep trying.”
“Will do,” he replied in a defeated voice, “But it doesn’t look good.”
To keep things simple, I selected a crossbow with wooden stakes, a gun with regular bullets and a sight, and a pistol whose clips had been preloaded with silver bullets. I couldn’t imagine the fuss it would have caused if I had to load the bullets myself.
Burning my fingers while loading them would have cast more than a little suspicion in my direction.
I shoved the guns into the holster on my vest and slung the crossbow on my back, then joined the others who waited in a line near another set of doors.
“Checking off our weapons?” I casually asked a woman whose weapon of choice happened to be enough silver throw knives that I had to keep myself from sneezing at the scent.
“Just a scanner,” she replied. She smiled at my confused look and revealed four silver teeth before she said, “They’re checking for cameras, mostly.”
“Yeah,” the Hunter in front of her said. “A guy a few years back snuck in a camera and recorded the entire hunt. He posted it on the internet and nearly got this place shut down, hence the move to southern climates.” He shook his head. “Why anyone would try to close such a fine institution as this is beyond me.”
“I have no idea,” I mumbled. Panic filled me.
“Zev, you have to get rid of the earpiece,” Sutter said urgently. “If they find it, you won’t make it past the door!”
I looked around quickly while pretending to fiddle with the way the crossbow laid across my back. We stood at the far end of the ballroom. The tables were well past the end of the line, and there was nowhere I could see where I could chuck the earpiece.
“You have to smash it,” Sutter reminded me. “If you don’t smash it, they could track it. Then if you get caught, they would know Fray leaked her location. She would go down beside you! And from what I’ve heard, your deaths wouldn’t be quick or gentle.”
I was almost to the two guards with scanners. They waved the devices up and down the front of a man in a trench coat. I hoped they would find something to give me time to figure out an escape plan.
“Next,” one of the guards called out.
The man with the trench coat moved through the doors and out into a small foyer beyond. My heart fell.
“What do you think?”
I glanced behind me at a man shorter than I was. He carried a sniper rifle nearly the same height and wore a hat that would have fit better on a safari.
“About what?” I asked as I looked around.
“About your first Hunt. Are you nervous?”
I shook my head. “Excited, really.” I forced a smile and patted one of the guns in its holster. “Ready to try this baby out.”
“Zev, hurry,” Sutter urged.
I pretended to scratch an itch by my ear and pulled out the earpiece. I heard Sutter talking, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Dropping the tiny black object on the ground to step on it would be too obvious. Instead, I made a show of coughing into my hand and popped it into my mouth. One crunchy bite and a cough later, the mess was back in my hand. But what to do with it?
“That’s a nice hat,” I said on impulse.
“Oh, you like it?” the man asked in surprise. He took it off to reveal a balding pate. “My wife bought it for me and I’ve worn it on every hunt since.”
“She has good taste. May I?” I held out a hand.
“Certainly,” he replied.
The woman in front of me opened her arms for the security check. I swept my hand inside of the hat and deposited the remains of the earpiece behind the headband.
“Very nice,” I said. “Well made.” I tapped my fingers on the top for show. “I’ll bet this helps with the weather.”
“It does,” the man said as he accepted it back. “But blood stains it something fierce.” He shook his head. “I made a mistake of putting it on the head of the last werewolf I killed to take a picture for my portfolio. It took me hours and hours to scrub it clean.”
My lips curled back from my teeth and it was all I could do to turn it into a twisted smile. I let go of the fabric as quickly as I could.
“Well, you did a good job. I can barely smell it,” I said.
He gave me a surprised look. “What was that?”
“Lift your arms,” the guard in front of me directed.
I shrugged at the man in the hat and did as I was told. The guards checked me up and down and then motioned for me to continue into the foyer.
“About time you got here,” Godnik said. “Did you enjoy the selection of weapons?”
“I did,” I told the man. “You have quite an impressive collection.”
He chuckled. “That I do. But inside the ballroom is nothing compared to the new arena I’ve made for this Hunt.” He raised his voice as one of the scanners beeped behind us. “Welcome, fellow Hunters! May your Hunt be fruitful and beyond anything you have ever experienced. Open the doors and let the Great Hunt begin!”
“Device found,” one of the guards said.
I allowed myself to be jostled down the steps and away from the commotion that rose up in the ballroom. The hum of excitement flooded from those around me. Anticipation made their faces glow; several checked their weapons with hands that shook with enthusiasm. It sickened me to think of the targets out there somewhere helpless and waiting to be shot. The rage the thought brought with it helped me center myself.
As soon as the Hunters reached the forest that rose up in front of us, they began to disappear in singles and pairs.
“I’d recommend keeping to the perimeter until you’re familiar with the lay of the land,” Godnik told me. “We’ve worked hard to ensure that each set you encounter is highly detailed and lit for the appropriate setting, so head towards the light.” He pointed with the rifle he carried. “South will take you to the ruins of a military compound. East you’ll find a hospital stage, and west will land you in, ironically, an old western setting.” He grinned. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“This place is very impressive,” I said because he was obviously waiting for the compliment.
He nodded. “If only my father could see it now. He might not have been proud of me, but he would have been proud of what I turned his little dream into.” His eyes glittered in the darkness. “And now, my friend Wolfslayer, off to the Hunt!”
I limped through the darkness on my own. My leg ached, but with nowhere near the force it had during the day. I regretted that the trees blocked out the healing moonlight. Only the doctor’s warning kept me from throwing off my borrowed clothes and phasing to track down Fray and Revna the easy way.
The sound of Hunters traipsing through the underbrush came loud to my sensitive ears. The Hunters may have had the benefit of being on such a Hunt before, but I had my own advantages. My werewolf eyesight easily took on the grays of the animal world. The darkness faded to leave me with a twilight of forest that was familiar to my animal senses. My ears caught every twig snap and leaf rustle, and my nose tested the breeze with the surety of a thousand hunts beneath the moonlit sky.
It was my nose I relied on the most as I delved deeper into the woods. I had categorized Revna’s scent and searched for it alongside Fray’s black licorice and sage. The witch carried the metallic tang of magic along with a strong overlay of lemongrass that would be hard to miss. It was one of the reasons I had chosen her; the witch’s courage had convinced me the rest of the way.
Feet whispered across a clearing to my left. I paused. The haste and the sound of stilted breaths let me know that I had found a target instead of a Hunter. Perhaps that could be to my advantage.
I can help you.
“Who-who said that?” a quiet voice asked.
I stepped into the moonlight.
A dhampir crouched in the shadows of a stand of trees. My eyes easily made out the glow of his eyes above the mask he wore.
“You’re the one who wouldn’t stop watching me in the dungeon,” I said.
“And you’re the werewolf who says he can save us,” he replied.
I didn’t miss the skepticism in his voice. “If you doubt me, go ahead and take your chances with the Hunters,” I offered.
He looked from me to the forest beyond us. At that moment, a gun fired. We both flinched.
He met my gaze again. “I’m with you. Where do we
start?”
I approached him warily. My previous experience with a dhampir had been limited to Fray, and given the rough start we had survived, I didn’t want to make any mistakes.
“We should remove that mask,” I said. At his questioning look, I explained, “You’re going to want your fangs if we find any Hunters.”
He nodded and tipped his head to the side. A silver lock held the mask over his face.
“If I can get the right angle, I might be able to—”
The moment I touched the lock, the dhampir slid the gun from my holster and spun away from me.
I let out a breath of disappointment at my own stupidity and raised my hands.
“What are you going to do?” I asked him. “Shoot me?”
“I should,” he replied. His hands shook so that the gun barrel moved from side to side. “It’s what you deserve!”
“For what?” I asked. “I risked myself to come here and save the dhampir I love. They’ll shoot us both if they find out what I am.”
His gun lowered slightly. “You-you love her?”
I nodded. “Why else would I risk coming here?” I held out my arms. “I’m a werewolf.”
Another gunshot sounded in the distance.
“Come on,” I told him. “I don’t have time for this. They might find her before I do. If you’re going to shoot, shoot.”
He hesitated, then lowered the gun. I took it from his hand and motioned for him to turn around.
“Are you going to shoot me now?” he asked quietly as he did what I said.
“In a matter of speaking,” I replied. “Kneel down.”
As soon as his knees hit the ground, I put the gun to the back of his head and squeezed the trigger. He winced, then his hands flew to his face. The mask fell off into his palms.
“You shot the lock,” he said.
I turned away and continued through the trees.
The sound of him hurrying after me was far louder than I wanted to be.
“Why?” he demanded.
I looked at him over my shoulder. “Will you keep it down? You’re making enough noise to draw every Hunter in the arena to us.” I held his gaze. “I’m here to save people, not kill them, but I’ll make an exception for the Hunters.” I allowed a brief smile to touch my lips. “And just a pointer. If you draw a gun to kill someone, make sure you choose the right one for the right species.”