by Laken Cane
I’d brought my own gear, but I grabbed an extra flashlight. The country was dark.
“Spooky,” I murmured.
He gave what might have passed for a laugh. “Not a country girl?”
I shook my head. “It’s too quiet. Heavy and dark.” I felt that heavy darkness pressing in on me, making it a little hard to breathe, and I took a few deep breaths to calm myself before we began walking.
Vampires were a secretive, mysterious group. They had to be. They made sure their secrets were their own, and not even the supernaturals knew much about them. The humans knew even less. There was much speculation, but not even captured vampires, under torture, gave up their true secrets.
“What is this place?” I muttered as we walked down a gravel road, more to hear my voice than to get an answer. The road beckoned us on, silver and silent in the moonlight. No, not silent. Woods lined the road on either side, and from those woods came the sounds of hooting owls, scurrying animals, and other country nightlife I could not identify.
And Gray’s scent stayed firmly in my nostrils, in my brain, noisy in its own right.
Shane tapped his phone screen. “Raeven’s Road.”
“Should be renamed Long, Scary-Ass Road,” I muttered. My heart tap-tapped in my throat, fast and light, and no matter how many deep breaths I took, it wasn’t slowing.
I shone the beam of my flashlight on the ground. The fog tracks were thick and knee-deep there, and it was more difficult to find the gray in all the others. But I didn’t need to see his tracks. I only needed to smell them.
“This way.” I concentrated on the scent instead of the crushing, smothery darkness, and I began to breathe a little easier.
The gravel crunched beneath our boots and in minutes, I saw weak, yellow light coming through small windows of the first house on Raeven’s Road.
“People live here,” I said, shocked. “Humans.”
“Not everyone loves city life, baby hunter.”
“My name is Trinity.”
He didn’t answer.
A dog began to bark.
No, that was wrong. An entire pack of snarling, rabid canines began to bray and howl and paw the ground, eagerness for blood evident in their strident voices.
At least that was what it sounded like to me.
“Shit,” I whispered. “What do we do now?”
“We keep walking.” He hefted the shotgun. “It’s not the hounds we need to worry about.”
“They’re going to wake everyone in this godforsaken hollow.”
“Doesn’t appear to be a lot of people to awaken,” he said, dryly.
As we passed the house, which was set back from the road, a man yanked open the door and stuck his head out. “Shut up, you damn dogs!”
The hounds continued braying.
“Dear lord,” I murmured. “Things are loud around here.”
“Who’s out there?” the man yelled. “Trevor, that you out there?”
Shane surprised me by answering the man. “Vampire hunters,” he called. “Go on back inside, sir.”
The man muttered something I didn’t catch and beat a hasty retreat, slamming his door shut against the night and the vampire hunters who walked it.
“You’d think he’d be more afraid of the vampires than the hunters,” I remarked.
“He’s got protections against the vampires,” Shane answered. “But not so much against the ones who hunt them.”
I didn’t ask him to elaborate because just then, I lost Gray’s scent.
I stopped walking abruptly, and Shane took a couple of steps before he realized I’d halted. “I lost his tracks.” I played my light over the gravel, growing more agitated by the second.
The light cut through dozens of swirling tracks, but none of them belonged to Lucy’s killer. I lifted my nose to the sky, but Gray’s scent was gone. I could neither see nor smell him. “Shit,” I muttered. “Shit.”
“Find him.” Shane swiveled his head as he kept watch. “And hurry. We can’t stand here all night.”
“I’m not delaying on purpose,” I snapped.
And a little farther down the road, another dog began to bark. I whirled in a circle, splashing the light over the road, the ditches, the woods.
I lifted my nose to the air and drew it in, desperate.
“Nothing,” I whispered. “How could the scent just suddenly stop, for God’s sake?”
“Okay,” Shane said. “We need to keep moving until you latch on again. Come on.”
“What’s wrong?” I bent forward slightly as I began a fast walk beside him. “Did you see something?”
Give me the city anytime. The country was messing with my mind. It was freaking me the hell out, honestly.
“You’re going to need to calm down, Sinclair. What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know. It feels bad out here.”
“Deliverance syndrome,” he said.
I paused my frantic searching to look at him. “That’s a thing?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Relax. Breathe.”
I forced myself to take slow, deep breaths and concentrated on getting a whiff of Gray’s scent, when Shane spoke once again and shattered my hard-won pretense at calmness.
“Someone is watching us.” His voice was so calm and matter-of-fact that it took a few seconds for his words—and their meaning—to sink into my agitated brain.
And when they did, I gave up trying to find Gordon Gray’s tracks, dropped the flashlight, and pulled Silverlight from my belt.
Almost before she cleared the sheath she expanded and exploded into silver light almost bright enough to blind me as she lit up the road, illuminating not just the ground and the tracks and the edge of the woods, but the dozens of vampires who stood there like silent, eerie sentinels.
Watching us.
Chapter Nineteen
“You ready?” Shane asked.
“I’m ready.” I let Silverlight take a practice swipe through the heavy backwoods air. There were vampires to kill, and the excitement of that, the joy of that, was way bigger than the fear.
He glanced at me, as though he felt it—as though my bloodlust was coming from my pores. Or maybe he had the same bloodlust. He was a hunter, after all.
Then the vampires—despite two people standing back to back, one with a shotgun and one with a lethal sword, both with stakes, silver, and holy water—attacked.
We were hunters.
And as much as the hunter lusted after the death of the vampire, so the vampire lusted after the death of the hunter.
It all came down to which of us was the strongest, fastest, and luckiest.
“There are a lot of them,” I murmured, and my voice shook—but with excitement. Not terror.
“Give Silverlight her head,” he said. “She’ll take care of the rest.”
“I know. Still, there are only two of us.”
“Four.”
“What four?”
“You, me, Silverlight, and Betty.”
“Betty?”
“My shotgun.”
Then the vampires were upon us, and Betty spoke, her voice echoing through the night as she cut down half a dozen of the advancing vampires.
“Wow,” I said.
“Silver shot,” he replied, proud.
And I thought maybe he wasn’t hating on me quite so much.
Then there was no more time for talking. Only for killing.
When Silverlight sliced through vampire flesh, it was as though I not only held the blade, I was the blade. I swam through blood, hacked through bone, twisted into hearts. I had no fear.
“We call you Death.”
I was hyperaware of everything. Every sound was magnified, every sight was more vivid, every scent was more fragrant.
I found Gray’s scent again, with that extra boost, but he was not, at that moment, high on my list of priorities.
Also with that hyperawareness, I felt him, Amias, watching from the shadows.
Why d
id he watch? I didn’t know.
But his proximity helped me. Not because he made me feel safe, but because he made me feel savage. I killed with a viciousness I would surely regret later, because it changed me. It made me one of them—one of the revolting, ferocious, killing vampires.
And then, Amias stepped from the edge of the woods. He stood there, in plain view, a challenge, a threat.
A target.
Shane pointed the shotgun at him and started to pull the trigger. And I didn’t hesitate. I screamed a denial and launched myself between the gun and Amias. It was a terrible, instinctive reaction I had absolutely not meant to do, and Shane’s eyes widened as he watched me use myself as a fucking human shield for the vampire I hated, and in that awful distraction, a vampire caught him around the neck. His blood spurted into the air as the vampire punctured an artery, and for one long second, the fight halted.
Time slowed down.
I landed on the ground, rolled, and came up swinging, horrified at what I’d done, what I’d caused.
The vampires caught the scent of that pure hunter blood and sniffed the air. Now they not only wanted to kill the hunters, but they craved his spilling blood.
Shane brought his gun around and began pulling the trigger, but he was losing blood fast and in seconds, he fell to his knees.
I needed help, or we were both going to die. The vampires were terrified of Silverlight and that gave me an advantage—they knew one slice through any part of their bodies would give them the true death—but their numbers were large and I, though a hunter, was inexperienced.
Shane Copas was down, and that was my fault.
More vampires poured into the area, attracted by the scent of hunter blood, and as Shane lay on the cold ground, bleeding out, the vampires began to overtake me.
I cut and hacked and sliced, standing over my partner, trying to keep the vampires from getting to him, but I couldn’t hold them all back.
Shane began to die.
A thin female vampire snagged Shane’s jacket and tried to drag him away, despite the silver crucifix around his neck flaring to life and burning off half her face. She persisted, shrieking from pain, and I cut off her arm. She fell on top of him, and she died burning.
Half out of my mind, I screamed for the one person I knew could help him. The one person I knew could help me.
And when I called for him, I realized that had been exactly what he’d wanted all along. For me to need him.
“Amias,” I screamed.
And the master answered.
He was suddenly in my face, and vampires scattered in his wake, and though Silverlight went for him, I held her back.
“Save him,” I begged, and with the tip of my blade, I caught the silver chain around Shane’s neck. Broken, it slithered to the ground and died.
For a heartbeat Amias held my stare, his eyes bright and deep and full of emotion—gratitude, relief, delight, mostly delight—and then he left me to defend myself and he flew to the injured hunter.
The vampires had fallen back beneath the force of the master’s will, perhaps from shock at his appearance, definitely from respect and fear, but it would only last while he was there.
And when Amias slung Shane over his shoulder and slipped away, they were happy to let him go without a fight. The master had the fallen hunter, and they wanted me.
I whirled Silverlight through the air. “Come on, then,” I screamed. “Come and get me. Come and get me!”
And because they hesitated, I got tired of waiting, and I went to get them.
Silverlight led the way, and she was raging. She’d been deprived of Amias, and she hadn’t liked that. She hadn’t liked that at all.
I sliced through milling vampires whose confusion at the appearance of the reclusive master had caused them to waver. But then their hunger and their innate urge to kill a hunter won out, and the battle began anew.
Blood splashed into my face, coating my skin and obscuring my vision, but Silverlight saw for me until I could blink away the blood. The fight became more brutal. As did I.
The sword and I began to push back the vampires—and that was saying something, because they were not weak or slow, those vampires. They weren’t like the vampires on TV, but they were stronger and faster than any human. Silverlight was more than a match for them, even if I was not.
Not yet.
But someday, I would be.
When the number of vampires began to dwindle and the fallen, bloody bodies began to smoke, and then to disappear, the remaining bloodsuckers’ fear for their lives prevailed over their need to end mine.
They ran.
And when the night, black and silver and soft yellow beneath a watchful moon, became too quiet and dark and heavy, I slid my cell from my pocket. I held it in my bloody hand for ten minutes before I gained the courage to call Angus.
“Trin. You okay?”
“Angus.” My voice broke into a sob. “I fucked up, Angus.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Tell me where you are. I’ll come for you.”
I shuddered, then took a deep, shaky breath. “Shane was…injured. It was my fault. I had to ask Amias for help.”
“The vampire has the hunter?” There was a cautious disbelief in his voice, as though I couldn’t possibly be saying what he thought I was saying.
“Yes. He’ll save him. I think he’ll bring him to you after he’s healed him.”
Angus breathed softly into the phone. “Trinity. Trinity.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” I whispered. “He was dying.”
And finally, it occurred to me exactly what I’d done.
Not only had I nearly gotten Shane killed, then handed him over to the master vampire who’d slaughtered my family, I’d doomed the proud hunter to a fate worse than death.
Amias might have to turn him to save him.
Shane would become the thing he hated most in the world.
A vampire.
He would kill me for that.
And I would deserve it.
“Trin,” Angus murmured, and there was so much pity in his voice I couldn’t stand to hear it. “Stay where you are. I’ll find you.”
Numb and sick with despair, I slipped the phone back into my pocket, then holstered Silverlight and began walking back the way I’d come.
Baby hunter, indeed.
Chapter Twenty
I crept back down Raeven’s Road with my tail between my legs, my shoulders hunched, my heart heavy.
Shane had been right about one thing. I was no hunter. A hunter wouldn’t have been willing to sacrifice herself—or her partner—to save a vampire. Especially not one who’d killed her entire family.
“Stupid,” I cried. “Stupid.”
I stopped walking and leaned forward, my hands on my knees, unable to keep my sobs from bursting free. I gave myself only a few seconds to wallow, and then I straightened, wiped my eyes, and walked on.
When the darkness of the hollow became too much, I brought out Silverlight. In the deep mystery of the hollow she brightened like a beacon, probing black shadows my flashlight couldn’t penetrate.
She lit up because there were vampires on Raeven’s Road. There were vampires in the woods. The hollow was full of them.
No wonder the area had felt so bad. It was bad.
I wasn’t sure why they weren’t all leaping out, trying to rip off my head, but I remained unmolested.
And I walked on, because I had to.
Gray’s scent teased my brain, and as I walked by the house of the hounds, they once again began barking and howling and straining at the chains that held them in the yard.
The man who lived in the house didn’t open his door but I saw the edge of a curtain slide back.
I followed Gray’s scent, acknowledging the trickles of excitement that began unfurling inside my belly. I was a mess, no doubt, but hunting and tracking was what I was meant to do. I just needed to get better at it.
Gray’s tracks wafted off into the woods, and after a moment of indecision, I crossed the road, jumped the ditch, and followed them on.
If I caught Gray, I could salvage something from the night. I refused to let myself think about Shane, or what he was going through, or where Amias had taken him. There’d be enough of that later.
I sheathed Silverlight because her light was becoming so bright I was spotlighted in it—the enemy would see me long before I saw him. I couldn’t hide in that light.
I drew a stake from my belt and held it instead, and a flashlight, which I would click on when I needed to. Right then, the moon was all I needed.
I thought I heard the rumble of a distant vehicle, roaring toward Raeven’s Road, and the sound made me feel less alone. There were people in the world. Angus would come. I was not alone.
A stick cracked beneath my boot, and I halted, listening intently as something rustled furtively behind me. I wanted to draw the sword, but I resisted her pull. It wasn’t safe in the light. Not there.
Wispy trails danced around my feet, Gray’s among them, trailing off as far as I could see. He’d been there, and recently. The tracks were vibrant and lively and really, if I wanted to admit it, they were beautiful.
They likely used the woods to hunt for food. Animals would sustain them, even if they didn’t love the blood. When they fed from a human, it was more because they craved the taste and the different energy than they had no other choice.
Animals might not give them the strength and vitality dining from humans would, but it wasn’t like they’d suffer overly much if they drank only animal blood. Good for the humans, not so good for the animals.
At least, that was what I’d heard. Who knew for sure but the vampires?
I followed Gray’s scent for ten more minutes before I spotted him. Not him, maybe, but them. A small group of vampires, sitting on logs and leaning against trees, sharing food. Human food. I couldn’t tell if Gray was among them.
There were two humans in the midst of the vampires. One had crumbled into a ball on the ground, and the other leaned weakly against the knees of a sitting vampire as he drank from her neck.
I lost my shit.