by Carrow Brown
I walked a few feet before the woman pushed herself away from the railing and planted herself in my path. I stopped and looked between her and the five others.
My eyes finally rested on the older man. “You want to do this right here?”
“It’s as good a place as any,” he responded.
“And what about the creed? The one dictating no human involvement?” I waved my hand to the city around us. “Doing this will make a lot of noise, you know.”
“We’ll handle the aftermath when we’re done.”
I suggest stabbing the jugular first. Nothing starts a battle off right like a good blood spray!
I wiggled my nose. “I want to talk to Samuel Henry.”
I saw the group hesitate, their eyes going to the older man. They knew I knew, and that made them uncomfortable. I offered a smile Silence would’ve appreciated.
“Don’t know who you’re talking about,” the man said.
“Samuel Henry is your order leader. He makes all the calls, tells you where to go, and who to abduct. If you’re going to lie, at least do it about something I don’t already know.”
The leader gave me a hard look before asking, “What do you want to talk to him about?”
“Child support.”
He sputtered, “What?”
“Child support for the younglings that don’t have their parents right now. Or compensation pay for those missing work. And hiring. Who is going to fill the roles of all those you have taken?”
The leader frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You lot are taking members of our community who all play a vital part either among the humans or us. Not that I want to say you all are fucking shit up, but you’re fucking shit up.”
“Your kind are a threat,” the woman off to the side of me spat. “Why would we care about one of you being in pain?”
I turned my head to the woman and spoke slowly in case she was as stupid as she sounded. “Let’s take Iceland for example. We have a guy there who needs his mythic back because without her there to stop it, he can make the volcanoes there explode. Last I checked, there are over three hundred thousand people living in Iceland, depending on tourist season. Are you okay with them dying because my kind are the ‘threat?’”
“You’re bluffing,” the one at my back said.
“I’m not. Not at all. You have no idea what you’ve fucked up.” I relaxed my shoulders, adjusting my weight to the balls of my feet. “And now it’s my turn, right? You all have guns, I’m assuming. So, you could’ve shot me from a distance. Instead, you are trying to herd me somewhere. Do you take the children, as well? How do you sleep at night when they scream for their parents?”
“Just shut up,” the woman at my left said. Her face flushed. “Stop talking!”
Silence snickered, I smell guilt in the air.
I grunted in agreement, eyeing the woman over. “Why? This is what you signed up for. Have some pride in your work. What’s that saying you humans have? Nits make lice?” I held up a hand as she opened her mouth to speak. “It’s probably easy to not see us as individuals when you can characterize us as thoughtless monsters.”
They are so angry inside. I almost want one of them to wield me.
I continued, “I shouldn’t be surprised by your lack of empathy. You’re the same group that encouraged Rome to invade Britain so you could kill some fairies. Or do you skim over that in your history? A lot of innocent people died because of what your order did.”
Her lips pulled back in a snarl as she hunched over. “What do you know of our cause?”
I arched an eyebrow. “Other than it makes you unreasonable zealots with a prolonged grief disorder?” I held my hand toward her, an action that caused the other four to shift about me as they outright reached for their weapons.
And so jittery! So fresh! Scared! Cut! Cut!
“Look, I get it.” I shrugged, stepping so I was clear of the metal balcony above me on the side of the building. “You hate things not like you and see them as lesser. That’s called racism, but I’m sure you’ve managed to justify it.”
“Why are we talking to her?” a man off to my left snapped. I shifted my eyes to him and the hand inside his jacket. “Let’s just do it! She’s surrounded and we have silver.”
“Silver? Say it’s not so!” I hunched over, holding the magic-flash in my hand before lifting my closed hands to the sky. “I’ll go peacefully! Just don’t use the silver on me!”
Their eyes shifted from me to each other, but not one of them took a step forward. I guessed they weren’t as stupid as they sounded.
I grinned, opening my hand and letting the sphere drop to the ground. My eyes closed in time for the flash but couldn’t avoid the deafening boom. My eardrums throbbed and pressure settled over my head.
I crouched, feeling my shoes and pants tighten as I let my legs and feet grow. With a grunt, I pushed off, the pavement shrunk beneath me by three stories, and I cleared to the roof just as gunfire answered my escape.
This is the opposite of fighting, Silence spat. It’s called running away.
“I am not fighting them in a crowded city. If they can’t keep up, shame on them.” Running as fast as I could while leaping from rooftop to rooftop, I paused every so often to let one of the group spot me before continuing my run along the rooftops toward the edge of the French Quarter. Something whizzed by my head and another something sparked off to my side.
Those. Are. Bullets!
“I noticed, thanks!” I rounded a corner and sprinted for all I was worth.
You are going the wrong way. The fight is behind you!
“That’s the plan!”
Silence pushed his will against my own, urging me to turn around and give these mortals just what they sought—death.
“Not here. I need more wiggle room,” I said through heavy breaths, as I continued sprinting. I shouldn’t have been that worn out, but I hadn’t eaten with such efforts in mind.
Reaching the last sets of building, I jumped off and braced myself for the impact and landed with a grunt.
A couple gawked at me and I flashed them a smile. “All sorts of crazy stuff happens in the Quarter,” I said, before trotting off with shouts sounding behind me.
Rounding a corner, I slowed and walked, my eyes darting to all the passers-by. One biker, dressed in leather with a salt and pepper beard sitting on a motorcycle caught my attention, and I walked over to him and said, “Sorry”.
He looked up at me. “For what?”
I punched him in the face, knocking him off the bike. Straddling the motorcycle, I revved the engine. “For stealing your shit.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Slice! Slice! Slice!
Imade a lot of noise as I left, taking the main road and weaving through traffic, earning several car honks until I got onto the I-10.
You’re the only person who tells people where you are when you play hide and seek.
I snorted, my attention on the road, and scanned the vehicles around me for anything that screamed “Hunter Mystery Machine.” A shadow drew my attention upward as I watched seven ravens flying through the early evening sky in the same direction as me.
Ooo! Silence cooed. From three to seven! Ravens come and herald death! Slice and dice we shall.
I rolled my eyes. “Now you’re making haikus correctly?”
You sound disappointed. I think you’ve lost the newbies, anyway.
I looked from the ravens to one of the bike’s mirrors. Two unmarked white vans closed in on me. “I doubt it.” I frowned, my eyes shifting between the road and the side mirror. They kept their distance for a mile, though I expected one of the windows to open up and someone to fire a machine gun at me. Too many American movies. “That’s a fast response time,” I said to myself. “There has to be more than the five Hunters we saw.”
More to slice! I am okay with that if you are.
Snorting, I took the exit for Claiborne Avenue and turned on Louisiana. The vans f
ollowed but didn’t try to box me in or run me off the road. I saw the harbor area by the Mississippi River and floored it, creating distance between them and me. I weaved through traffic and ran red lights, much to the disgruntlement of local drivers, until I came to the harbor. Once I found an unattended building, I parked and left the motorcycle out for the Hunters to find.
“We’ll fight here,” I told Silence as I broke the lock and slipped inside. The building was dark, muggy, and filled with storage crates. A wonderful labyrinth of shadows and echoes.
I walked down a row to the middle and leaped up to the top container. Yanking it open, I climbed inside and set my bag on the metal floor to go through the contents.
There was a moment of inner conflict as I eyed my things. Did I really want to use the Desert Eagle? It was loud, I hadn’t tried it out, and sights weren’t aligned. With a sigh, I promised myself I’d use it on Patrick instead.
Not going to use your new toys?
“I want to, but not the time or place. Guns make too much noise and what I need is”—I pulled him free—“Silence.”
A pleasant vibration ran up my arm from the hilt of the blade, and I looked in the direction of the open double doors. I’d made it clear I’d run in here. The question was how long it would take for the greenhorns to come after me or assume I’d taken off.
Moving in the shadows, I trotted to the main entrance of the building and waited in the safe dark. And waited and waited.
This’ll be a disappointment if they gave up the chase. You shouldn’t have been so mean to them back in the alleyway. I bet their feelings are hurt by your curt words and womanhandling.
I grunted and edged my head around the side to peek outside—and felt something whiz past my head. A spark flashed behind me, and I darted back inside.
“Still there,” I said. “And they have a sniper.” When no other shots sounded, a sense of unease made my belly sink. “They really did herd me,” I whispered.
What do you mean?
“Got me in a closed off area and if I try to leave, they’ll shoot me. This is way more organized than I expected.”
Footsteps, quiet but still audible, sounded on the other side of the wall. I melted around the corner of one of the containers and waited.
A bulky man, big dumb bruiser sort, entered the warehouse with a rifle aimed in front of him. The man took his time walking in, looking through the scope of his rifle into the warehouse. He looked dressed for the bomb squad prom and was armed to the teeth with a compact rifle, pistols, knives, and ammo. Even I couldn’t get my hands on some of that kind of equipment. His lips moved, and I craned my head to pick out what he said.
“No eyes on the target. Area has high coverage. No surveillance or civilians.”
Bomb Prom Queen continued working his way inside, and I stalked him with Silence in hand, moving around the crates until he was a good distance from the entrance. When his attention was in the opposite direction to me, I leaped, grabbing him and pulling him into the shadows. I slid Silence across his throat, the living blade rippling and biting into the flesh all along the way with glee. Prom Date let out gurgling wet death noises. My satisfied smile from the kill became short lived as pain sparked across my chest and arms. Releasing the corpse, I looked myself over. Small cuts covered my chest and arms. Most were pin breaks, but there was a faint sheen over my body.
Is that silver?
“I think so,” I muttered as I knelt to inspect the dead man. Discreet needle points poking out all over it of it, some glistening with my blood. Running my hand over a safe part of his vest, I looked at my fingers and examined the dark sparkle over my palm.
“Silver dust,” I murmured.
Noise hummed from the man’s earpiece, so I pulled it out to listen.
“—confirmed down. Proceed through southern entrance. Lycan protocol,” a deep male voice said.
Lycan protocol? Silence scoffed. They’ve done it enough time to have a protocol?
I didn’t respond to Silence. Instead, I climbed up one of the containers and perched myself to watch the south door, listening to my stolen comm.
The north entrance doors slammed shut, cutting off the light from the outside, plunging the warehouse into total darkness. I blinked and looked behind me. My eyes adjusted as I remained still. There were the faint sounds of booted feet moving about, but now coming from where the doors had closed. I leaped down and tried the North door, but it didn’t move an inch. There was no light coming in from under it. I pushed my shoulder against it, but the door didn’t budge. If I slammed against it, I’d give away my position. It took me a moment to fully comprehend what had happened. I glared at the comm unit.
A fake report to give an opening for them to come in and not get picked off one by one. Now there was only one way for me to get out of here and it was through them.
It was something I’d do. Motherfuckers.
The thing was worthless to me then, if they were going to use those kinds of tactics, and I was about to chuck it when a voice spoke up again.
The deep voice said, “Use the Dust Seeker to find her.”
“Affirmative.” a different male answered.
I grinned and sat on my haunches while I waited. I heard it, the soft whine of an overpowered computer. It came from the South, and I turned myself in that direction and waited. Their Duster-stupid-name-for-us device exploded with a loud pop, light flashing from between the towers of containers. Creative profanity reached my ears, and I judged the distance before leaping into the air.
I sailed up and over the container, turning myself in the air so I’d land feet first. I’d done well, seeing one of the Hunters right under me. I widened my legs and landed on his shoulders with my thighs. He buckled, but I twisted until I felt the necessary crunch and threw him to the side. The man with him had barely registered what happened before I moved in and buried Silence in the unprotected underside of his jaw. My hand clamped over his mouth as Silence slid into him with ease. The man’s eyes widened as they met mine, the life quick to wink out while Silence dug about inside his skull.
I felt the prickle of the same small stabbing wounds in the backs of my legs. Once I pulled Silence free, I ran my free hand over the back of my leg and found more barbs lodged into my flesh. The two dead men were dressed like the first one who’d come in with the anti-wolf suits. If I’d been a werewolf, I would’ve been paralyzed and flailing from the first guy I grabbed. I mildly resented them for being able to create the armor.
Pain exploded in my back, the crack of rifle fire going off behind me. I stumbled forward and turned the corner.
“Sights on target,” a voice in the earpiece spoke. “Silver is no good! Switch to hollow points.”
Hollow points? That’s just rude.
“She has our comms,” another voice said.
A third voice, this one deep with rolling R’s spoke. “Atlas. Proceed with caution.”
The voices ceased. Hissing, I shifted my body, feeling the bullets inside my flesh. They weren’t impeding anything important, but they didn’t tickle either. I leaped and swung myself up to the top of the containers once more, edging forward on quiet feet. The pair who’d shot me were still there. Snarling, I readied myself to leap at them again when sparks went off by my knee and I felt the piercing pain of another bullet in my arm.
They are flanking and have numbers. You’re becoming pathetic prey.
I turned and roared at the pair; the unearthly and inhuman sound of it made the windows of the warehouse tremble. I leaped for the Hunters. One shot at me, and the bullet pierced my back, before I was on them, ripping the first one apart with my hand. My fingers shifted into long, thick talons and sliced through his vest with buttery ease. His partner came at me almost simultaneously, and I stepped into him, pressing Silence’s hilt against the exposed flesh of his neck and leaving it there.
“Have fun, but don’t go far,” I said, seeing the man’s eyes glow red, looking at me with a smile. He dropped his
rifle and seized the blade, running off with a gleeful giggle.
It was a moment’s reprieve before the gunfire started again. I turned and charged in the direction it came from only to have a hail of bullets come from across me as well. They pressed in with a Z-pattern, one squad getting my attention while the flanking group fired.
I was bleeding badly at that point. These weren’t the greenhorns shaking in their boots from earlier. Not having the energy to maintain my appearance and still fight, I let it go as my anger and frustration flared. My clothes tightened around me with my growing size as I grew until they shredded from my body. I reached back to tear the back of my cargo pants before my tail did the honors for me. It uncurled onto the ground with a loud thud, and I sighed in relief. Pale silk skin faded away and was replaced with toughened dark gray.
On the other side of the warehouse, I heard a screeching voice cry, “Slice-slice-slice!” followed by a manic laugh.
At least one of us was having fun.
I prowled toward the corner of the row of containers, my eyes illuminating nearby surfaces as I scanned for other Hunters in the building. All I saw was the blood-coated floor and dead bodies.
There was a rustle of footsteps and then nothing. The doors to the hangar opened, and I heard booted feet rushing out and away before everything went still. I peeked around the corner as I hid but didn’t see or sense anyone. Only the intoxicating scent of blood and flesh.
Hunger clawed at my mind, urging me to leave and chase down prey. Instead, I focused on my body and felt for the bullets buried in my flesh. I’d counted up to six bullets when a figure approached from my left. He didn’t make any attempt to hide himself from me and his glowing red eyes gave away his identity. “There was a recall order,” Silence said, looking me over. “You don’t look so good.”
“I don’t feel so good,” I growled. “If you hadn’t dilly dallied so much, I wouldn’t have all this brass in me.”
“You’re a slave driver, you know that?” Silence’s host clicked his tongue. “Cut this, slice that, slaughter everyone faster. Do I even get a ‘thanks for all your hard work and effort’? No.”