The Prophecy Of Hope

by Kelly Hall

  Then she looked over at one of the young hunters, a man that she’d seen the last time she had come, with eyes so green he looked like he could be from another Realm. His eyes were barely open now, still and lifeless, his skin pale as a ghost from the loss of blood. His side was split open, flesh and meat ripped apart like it was no more than paper. The palms of his hands were bloody and pierced as if he’d been crucified.

  “It looks the same,” said Jarreth quietly.

  “It is the same.” Rebekah stood upright and stepped back from the bodies. “It must have come here looking for me.”

  “Witnesses say they saw Grady, and there’s something I need to tell you.” He took a deep breath. “Some of the men found Grady’s friend hiding. When Grady took off, he seemed to vanish. So they looked for the other man and found him cowering just outside of camp near the latrine.”

  “Drake,” said Jarreth. “Bull is the one you found in the woods, right?”

  His father nodded.

  “Where do you have him?” asked Rebekah. “I hate to rush you, Brock, but Delilah called from Ireland, and we need to go back there as soon as possible. There’s been an attack, and we have two injured. Father Randall Timms and a young recruit.” She knew it didn’t seem like much, considering the loss his group had suffered, but it was still important.

  “Sorry to hear that,” said Brock. “I’ll take you to him.” Brock turned and held the door open as the other men and the angel left the cooler, all with grim looks on their faces.

  He led them across camp to a hole in the ground on the outskirts, where they didn’t have to listen to his complaints.

  Rebekah knelt down near the hole. “Drake?”

  Drake recognized the voice but thought it was too good to be true. “Huntress?” Drake’s voice was filled with much more desperation than the last time she’d heard it. “It’s good to see you.” He had been staring at a dirt wall with no room to do much but stand for hours on end. He would have been pleased to see the devil at that point.

  Jarreth and Canter stepped up to the hole and looked inside at their old training mate. Both shook their heads and exchanged a look as Rebekah continued.

  “What happened out in the woods with Grady? Why did he come back here?”

  “To get his revenge on Brock and his men. We saw a wolf in the woods, and this dark energy came up out of it and killed Bull. Grady said it spoke to him. I didn’t hear shit, but he was scared enough to run. I took off after him. Damned thing was fast and caught up with us. This time, without the wolf’s body. It just looked dark, like a man standing in the shadows. I couldn’t quite see its face, but I think that’s what it wanted somehow.” He swallowed the lump that tried to form in his throat. “It got Grady. Went into him. Then he was just gone. There, but changed, you know?”

  Rebekah could imagine. She looked down into the hole, knowing there was no chance for the young hunter, but she had to get all she could out of him. “Why did you come back with him?”

  “I was scared. I didn’t come back to hurt anyone. We had planned to go home, start our own hunting group. Then this happened, and suddenly, we were headed back here. I had to go along with him for fear that he would kill me. I hid out in the latrine as soon as he started his attack.”

  “Did you see anyone else? Was the wolf alone?”

  “Yes, it was. I mean, we knew it was a shifter, but then the shadow was there.” Drake went quiet. “Could you please forgive me, Huntress? I know I chose the wrong path out of friendship, but I’ve learned my lesson, and I just want a chance now to go out and hunt and kill the enemy in your honor.”

  Rebekah looked over at Brock, who shook his head. She wouldn’t even try to argue for the hunter’s life. He had betrayed his academy, his camp, and his Huntress. The mercy shown Grady had caused all of this, and while her heart broke for the loss of one of her own, she could not blame Brock for wanting his justice. “You have voided all of my authority over you with your decisions, and I’m afraid your fate is no longer mine to judge.”

  Drake’s expression shadowed with anger. “Grady was right about you, then. You don’t care about any of your hunters. We’re not your children. We’re your toy soldiers, free to burn and use however you see fit.” The hate in his voice came through, and Rebekah knew it was only to save face. He had said his piece but would not go out a beggar.

  Rebekah walked away from the hole. Jarreth, Canter, and Aziel followed.

  She stopped them. “Give me and Brock a moment alone, please.”

  The guys stepped away, leaving Rebekah with the rogue leader.

  Brock squared his shoulders, ready for her complaint. “I’m not sparing that motherfucker. Him and his friends have been nothing but bad luck since they walked into our camp.”

  “I’m not asking you to,” she said. “I just want you to make it quick. I understand you’re out for revenge, and while I know he has to die, remember, Grady is the real enemy here. This man did no harm to your soldiers, so I want him to have a quick and painless death.”

  Brock’s jaw stiffened, and he gave her a sideward look. “The camp won’t be happy with that.”

  “I’m not asking what the camp would want. I’m telling you what I want.” Her tone was harsh, but they had to remember who the hell she was.

  “And if I were to ask for a bargain? A trade of sorts. A clean death for a kiss.” He tapped his lips and looked longingly into her eyes.

  Rebekah gave him a sidelong look. “You have a lot of balls to try and buy my affections.”

  Brock couldn’t believe she was unaffected by his charms. “You didn’t miss me? Not one little bit?” He had never been one to be rejected.

  She met his eyes. “I’ve had too much on my mind to miss you.” She reached up and cupped Brock’s face, pulling him down to meet her mouth. The kiss was short and accomplished her goal. She pulled away much too soon for him.

  “Quick and painless,” she said, meeting his eyes with a hard look.

  He licked his lips. “I’m a man of my word.”

  “And I’m a woman of mine.” She still wasn’t going to be with him.

  Across camp, Canter and Jarreth had finally caught a moment to speak to Aziel alone. The three had been sent away from Rebekah, and they waited patiently near the campfire for the Huntress to finish her talk with Brock.

  Jarreth nudged Canter, who hadn’t wanted to be the first to mention anything. They sat there exchanging looks until Aziel spoke up. “What is up with you two?”

  “Nothing,” said Jarreth. “What is up with you, angel?” He gave Aziel an accusing look.

  Canter sighed. “Could you be any more obvious?” He pegged Jarreth with a hard look. “What he’s trying to bring up is the fact that we ran into Cleo at the New Orleans academy.”

  Aziel’s face turned pale. “You did? Did you talk to her?”

  “Oh yeah,” said Jarreth, squaring his shoulders and looking down his nose. “She had a lot to say about you.”

  Canter thought Jarreth was being a bit dramatic. “Would you chill, Jarreth? Shit, we’re not detectives about to interrogate him for murder.”

  Jarreth glared at the angel. “No, but we do have a right to know what he’s doing here if he’s not a Warrior anymore.”

  Aziel’s powerful shoulders slumped as he huffed. “She told you that?”

  Canter nodded. “Yeah, sorry, man.” He gave an apologetic look.

  Jarreth gripped Aziel’s shoulder. “She said it’s why she dumped you. If you ask me, you dodged a hell of a bullet with that one. She was hot, no lie. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, but man, she’s brutal.”

  “She used to not be that way. She’s changed, I guess.” Aziel had tried to get over the sting of Cleo and how she’d shunned him for his reassignment. He couldn’t even be pissed about it though. Soon enough, once his purpose was fulfilled, he wouldn’t be around for a relationship.

  “So, what are you still doing here?” asked Jarreth. “Did you make an agreement with M
ichael?”

  “You could say that, but it’s not like I’m going to tell you my mission. It’s angel business. But this way, I get to be here to help Rebekah when she needs me. I still have my training, and once a Warrior, always a Warrior.” He knew that wasn’t true, but Jarreth didn’t need to know what he’d sacrificed.

  Jarreth glanced at Canter and then back at the angel. “If you say so.”

  “Look, I’d appreciate you guys keeping this a secret.” He didn’t want everyone to know.

  Canter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Wait, so you mean you haven’t told Rebekah?”

  Aziel shook his head. “I will, in time. I don’t need her going ballistic on Michael, okay? Just forget that Cleo told you anything.” He got to his feet and saw Rebekah coming across the yard with Brock behind her. “I think we’re all done.”

  Before Jarreth could get to his feet to hug his father, the sound of a horn blowing brought everything to a stop.

  One of Brock’s men ran across the yard and stopped in front of them. “We’re surrounded, Boss. The wolves. They’ve come for their fallen.”

  Chapter 20

  The last thing Brock needed was another surprise. He stared at the young man who had given the warning like he expected him to say he was only kidding. When that didn’t happen, Brock let out a growl. “Son of a bitch. Round up the men. Tell them to arm to the teeth.”

  Rebekah put her arm on Brock’s. “Wait.” The young rogue hunter stopped in his tracks as Brock turned around to face her. “Let’s go talk to their leader. If they haven’t attacked, they’re giving you a chance. Take it.” The wolves were not often charitable.

  Brock gripped his sword’s hilt and stepped closer, towering above her. “I will not let this camp go through another slaughter. Not so soon. We strike first.”

  “They want their dead,” she said through gritted teeth. “If you go out there with weapons drawn looking for a fight, you’ll have one. If they are willing to talk, you better take the opportunity to explain that there is an enemy greater than all of us at the moment.”

  Brock knew that she was right, and it pissed him off. “Tell the men to prepare, and stand down until I say otherwise.” He gave her a sideward look and shook his head. “You’ll be the death of me, woman.” Brock stormed off, and Rebekah hurried behind him. She caught up and pushed him out of the way as they approached the edge of camp. He growled but knew better than to push her back.

  Rebekah made her way to a clearing in the woods where the trees thinned considerably. There stood a tall, regal man, his presence like a force that reminded her of Kayne and Ethan so much, she was nearly taken aback. The strong nose and jaw and the muscular frame were familiar, but the bottle-blond hair was a pale impersonation of Ethan’s natural color and did nothing to hide the fact that he was naturally more ginger than Ignis.

  Rogan.

  “Huntress?” the shifter said, with as much surprise in his voice.

  “Yes. I am the Immortal Huntress. And you are?” She wanted to see if he was willing to admit his true identity.

  “Here to collect our dead.” He met her stare levelly. She knew what she was up against. Rogan was the Father of the Shifters, and Ethan had warned her he liked to protect his anonymity and hide within his own clans, often taking on aliases. She thought it better if he believed he was getting away with it.

  “While we’re not accustomed to our enemies making demands, we’ve had enough killing for one day.” She turned to Brock. “Have your men collect the wolf and one of our own fallen, and bring them here to me.”

  “And make it fast,” said Rogan. “I’d hate to have to start killing your men. I get very impatient.”

  Brock narrowed his eyes. “I will bring the wolf, but I will not dishonor one of my dead for the enemy’s benefit.”

  Rebekah turned and met Brock’s eyes. “You will do as I say and bring him here so that he can be a testament to what’s happened.” She knew if Brock only brought out the shifter, they would believe that the hunters were responsible for the brutal killing and want their revenge. Brock’s camp had already taken one beating, and Rebekah needed to find out if the wolf had anything to do with the stigmata. They might also like the warning that there was another enemy in the forest.

  Some of the shifters snickered, the ones in wolf form howling as if they thought it was funny too. “Quiet,” said Rogan, and the noise stopped like a switch had been shut off.

  Brock stormed away, and Rebekah remained focused on the clan. She would not turn her back on the enemy and could feel every instinct in her body ready to kill. But she had control of herself, which was sometimes harder than picking up a weapon.

  The rogue hunters, with Brock in their wake, carried the dead wolf across the yard, its body dripping and mutilated. They tossed it on the ground and were greeted by a chorus of growls.

  “Who defiled our dead?” asked Rogan with a gravelly voice.

  “The question is what, and it wasn’t us.” Rebekah noticed how they exchanged looks. One of the shifters leaned over to speak in Rogan’s ear. She didn’t want to give them time to plot. “Do you know anything about this?”

  Rogan looked up, not liking her demanding tone. “I know we had nothing to do with it,” he said. “One of my wolves came up missing. I tracked him here and followed the scent of his blood all the way to this camp.”

  Rebekah looked back at Brock, who met her eyes with a hard stare. She motioned to him, and he stepped forward, laying his dead on the ground gently.

  “As you can see, we’ve got a common enemy.”

  “All I see are two gutted corpses.” He stepped forward and examined the body, seeing the gashes. It didn’t look like anything he’d ever seen, but he kept his expression neutral.

  Rebekah could tell by his body language that he knew nothing about it. “You have your dead. You can go.”

  Something carried on the wind to Rogan’s nose, something familiar from the Huntress. In one swift movement, Rogan reached out and grabbed her arm to pull her closer.

  The army of rogue hunters all reached for their weapons, but Rebekah held up a hand to hold them back as Rogan leaned in and sniffed her neck and hair. He met her eyes as a word entered her brain, something that didn’t make sense to her.

  Alpha.

  Rogan turned her loose and called back to his men. “Get the dead. Tell the clan to fall back.” As soon as his orders were spoken, they retreated, and in a matter of minutes, it was as if they’d never been there.

  Brock had his men take their dead and return them, and he glared at Rebekah. “You made me look like a whipped fool. This is my camp, not yours.”

  Jarreth stepped up to take his dad by the arm, but Brock pulled away, giving him a hard glare. “This is between me and Rebekah,” he snapped, pushing his son away.

  “You made yourself look like a whipped fool,” she said. “If I had let you handle this, your emotions would have gotten the better of you, and you’d be cleaning up dead shifters and more of your men.”

  “I could have handled them.” Brock didn’t need her to fight his battles.

  Rebekah shook her head. “No, you could not. That was Rogan.”

  Brock wasn’t sure he heard her correctly. “Rogan?”

  “You’re so numb, you couldn’t sense it?” He should have been able to feel the strength in Rogan’s presence.

  “Shit.” He looked down at his feet and closed his eyes. It had been a long day. Maybe he was numb. “I’ll have to move the camp. We can’t stay here. Even after the stigmata attack, we’re going to have to find a new place to work from.”

  “Let me know if I can help in any way.” Rebekah meant it too. She would do anything she could to help Brock and his men.

  “We’re going after Grady and that fucking stigmata. If you know anything that could help us defeat it, I need to know. I know you used that angel before.” He pointed to Aziel, who had been a quiet observer along with Canter and Jarreth.

  “Ho
ld up,” said Aziel. “She didn’t use me. The stigmata pulled my light from me while it was trying to kill me. I’m not one of your swords or daggers.”

  Rebekah nodded. “And apparently, all it did was exorcise it from him, not kill it like we thought.”

  “Do you think it’s a demon?” asked Brock.

  “I’m not sure. It could be. It might not be able to be killed though. My mother was one of the only true stigmatics that my father knew. What if she was simply possessed? The same dark energy that overtook her could be this one. I’m afraid that we may need the help of the Church.”

  Canter didn’t think that was a good idea at all. “How are you going to get the Church to help you? They have washed their hands of you and can’t be trusted.”

  “No way,” said Brock. “I stopped working with those assholes eighteen years ago, and I’m not going to start asking them for favors now.”

  “Then my hands are tied until I figure something out. We have to find its origin, and maybe then we’ll learn how to defeat it.” Rebekah felt helpless, the meeting with Rogan still weighing on her mind, along with everything going on back home.

  Canter put his hand on her shoulder and leaned close to her ear. “What about Ignis? He’s bound to have something in his books.”

  “He doesn’t. He’s already looked through all of his journals when I needed help with Estelle, and there isn’t anything of use.” Rebekah hoped he wasn’t keeping more secrets, but he’d known how important it was to go against this monster before.

  Canter wasn’t so sure. He’d seen the volumes of journals, and there were so many that there had to be something in one of them. “Maybe there’s something that he’s missed? It’s worth taking a look through some of them. What do we have to lose?”

  Rebekah didn’t think Ignis would go for it, and something like that would take too much time. “We’ll talk about it when we get back to the castle, which we should get to. With the attack, I want to get back and tend to our wounded.” She mostly wanted to figure out what to do with Liam if he turned. She had a horrible decision to make. She turned her attention back to Brock. “If I find anything, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, you guys be safe.”