Hunter Trials

by Caroline Peckham

  We climbed up several metres to her pod and I ducked inside the space. It was surprisingly cosy. Tykera had obviously earned a lot of privileges in her time in Dødstårn. She had plenty of clothes and her armour was hanging on hooks on the smooth walls. A spear and an array of knives were laid out beneath it. Her bed was way comfier than mine. She had several thick blankets cushioning the rock and a couple of soft pillows.

  “This is so nice,” I breathed as we dropped onto the bed.

  She beamed. “It should be. I had to kill a lot of people to get this crap.”

  I shook my head, surprised by how easily she talked about murder.

  “It's the way it is,” she said in response to my expression.

  “Yeah, I'm getting that,” I said, breaking a smile.

  Tykera nudged me with her toe, grinning. “So tell me about Accolt Jones. I saw the way he helped you in that trial. Guy's got it bad for you.” Her eyes shimmered with mischief.

  I raised my brows in surprise. “Colt? No way. He was my kidnapper...sort of.”

  “What?” Tykera blurted and I started recounting everything I'd been through since I'd met him.

  It was so easy to talk to her and I was so grateful to have someone I was starting to call a friend. Impossibly, prison was turning out to be tolerable. And after a while, I forgot all about Bain and his creepy obsession with getting his hands on me. So long as I had people like Tykera and Hawke around me, I didn't see how he'd get close to me again. And with that thought, I finally relaxed.

  I buried myself in work, trying to forget about everything that had happened lately, attempting not to dwell on Rockley Jones' hold over me. I still had to work with him. I hated that fact. And hell if I'd ever have told Cass and Jameson that. But if I was going to introduce Immortals to the world like I'd planned, providing cures to the human population, I was stuck with him. If only I'd steered clear of him years ago, maybe I could have avoided everything that had come to pass. Saved Cass from being tortured...

  The memories still haunted me. I barely slept, working late into the night in my south England institute. After Rockley's men had bombed the London institute, my employees had followed protocol and swiftly moved my lab out of the abandoned tube station to my residence in Kent. It was a reasonably-sized house in the middle of a field, far enough away from most people to go unnoticed as supplies came and went. My funds were no longer running dry now that Rockley had injected my bank account with a cash-load. Not that I was grateful. He'd destroyed each of my clones at eighty grand a piece and had oh-so-kindly reimbursed me. What he didn't know, however, was that I still had my original body in storage. And I would soon be making a trip to fetch it and make more clones.

  Admittedly, I'd been skeptical as to whether Rockley would contact me after I'd run out of his resort with Cass and her friends. But I supposed he still needed me. I was the key to this all running smoothly. I had the contacts we needed to bring Immortals to the human world. And I was currently in talks with a couple of high-up officials in the government. There were only a handful of humans in the world who knew about the Immortals. There was already a quiet understanding between them and the Hunters, allowing them to reduce the numbers in over-populated prisons by taking men and women for their death games. Those were the kinds of people I was dealing with, which didn't sit all that well with me. Rockley had agreed to put a stop to human contestants in the games, but that meant his focus was now on Immortals taking part in them instead. Unfortunately, I couldn't stop him from creating the predictable 'us and them' problem I was soon going to come up against. Rockley was determined to demonise Immortals, but I wanted them to be integrated into society, not ostracised. I had a plan, though. The humans would surely be grateful for the cures Immortals provided and I hoped that would be enough for them to boycott the Hunters' blood baths. I was going to pull the rug out from under Rockley's feet. And once the world was on my side, there'd be nothing he could do about it.

  Immortal rights. That was my focus.

  I'd never been much of a politician, but already some of the British politicians I'd been speaking with had suggested I be the face of the movement. I'd have to give speeches, take an official role in the government, try and make this transition go as smoothly as possible. No one wanted to get their hands dirty. But I needed a spokesperson who could step up to the mark, and apparently it was going to be me.

  As one female politician had pointed out, 'my looks would help gain trust amongst the masses'. Humans idealised their beautiful celebrities, they listened to them too. I wasn't beyond vanity. Every new clone I'd made had been altered a little, adjusted, made more attractive. Not that I'd been a sore sight in my original body. But I had the technology, so why not make the upgrades?

  I knew Margaret Rodeen had had a point when she'd asked me to be the face of the movement. But I just couldn't see myself as a poster boy for this whole thing. It wasn't my style. I liked pulling the strings behind the scenes. But what choice did I really have?

  Today, I had an appointment with a political stylist (sigh). I was going to be prepared for a speech in front of a lot of news reporters this afternoon. Today was not the day I'd be revealing Immortals to the world, I was just being announced as the new Minister for Medical Advancement – whatever that meant. The position had been created entirely for me and before my announcement, I was going to be meeting with the Prime Minster herself to introduce my plans. Supposedly, she'd already been informed of my work. Which meant the ball was now rolling for this whole thing.

  I was nervous as hell as a black BMW pulled up outside my property, driving in through the large steel gates. Soon, I was sat in the back, a briefcase by my feet and my best suit in place. My driver was a man of few words which suited me just fine. I had a hundred things to go over in my head.

  I took out my iPhone, scrawling through the lists of points I needed to make when speaking with the Prime Minister.

  Discuss the most beneficial cures first

  Don't list every Immortal-let her get used to the idea of Vampires and Werewolves initially.

  V Blood demonstration

  I paused on that third point. I had a couple of bottles in my briefcase as planned. But it was going to be the most tricky part to pull off. I couldn't walk into her office with a knife. So I'd have to ask her permission to cut myself.

  She's going to think you're insane.

  I took a deep breath. I'd just have to lay out my points well enough and hope I got that far into the discussion. If she believed me, perhaps a demonstration wouldn't be needed anyway.

  The lush, English countryside whipped past my window as we headed toward London.

  Shit, this is really happening.

  Everything I'd worked for was finally coming together. There was no going back from this. My doubts were ripe, but I had to see it through.

  This is what you want. You've worked for this your whole life.

  As we drew closer to London, the traffic grew thicker. We were soon queuing up to a glaring red traffic light, but I didn't mind. The more time I had to prepare, the better. But as I started reading through more points, something collided with the front window. I sat up in alarm, my heart jolting.

  “Ah – what the hell?” the driver cried.

  A tapping noise sounded and I peered into the front of the car, spotting a small crow pecking the window.

  What on earth..?

  The driver turned the wipers on and the crow was swept sideways, taking flight at the last second with an angry ca-caw.

  I frowned, turning my attention back to my phone, but the bird slammed into my window, pecking it wildly like it was on a mission to break in.

  I spotted a piece of paper strapped to its leg and realisation hit me.

  Quickly, I pressed the button to open the window, but nothing happened. “Open it,” I ordered the driver.

  “Are you crazy?” he gasped.

  “Do it!” I demanded, trying the door handle – also locked. “Or let me out of
the damn car.”

  The driver pressed a button and a click sounded through the vehicle. I pressed the window button and the driver wailed, “It'll get in!”

  “That's the point,” I muttered.

  The crow flew into the car just as the window dropped, landing on my lap.

  The traffic light had turned green, but we were stationary in the road as the driver gazed back at me in disbelief. “You're mad. I don't want that bird in my car-it's clearly rabid!”

  “Birds can't catch rabies. And I'll give you a good tip if you just shut up and drive,” I said, pointing to the road.

  Someone swore at us, shaking their fist as they swerved around our car.

  The driver paled, nodding and turning back to face the road, driving on.

  I relaxed a little, taking the crow's leg and unravelling the note that had been tied to it with a small piece of string. The driver's wide eyes were pinned on me in the rear-view mirror.

  “Would you mind concentrating on the road?” I nodded to the street and he reluctantly looked away.

  I took the note between my fingers and unfolded it. The bird jumped into the seat beside mine, hopping around, pecking at the leather.

  Silas,

  I hope you're well. It's strange being away from you after all the time we spent together.

  I know you're busy, but if you can spare a weekend, I'd love for you to come and stay with us on the 3rd of next month. It's not just a social call...Jameson and I are getting married!

  I really hope you can make it Silas. I miss you. And I'd really like for you to meet our son Varian.

  Best,

  Cass.

  Address:

  Skorpa Island

  Troms County

  Norway

  My heart beat harder in my chest. Cass was getting married. Did that bother me? In all honesty, after I'd seen her and Jameson together, my feelings for her had dwindled. I wasn't the sort of man to get between two people who were in love. And hell did they love each other. I wondered perhaps if the pounding of my heart was due to another reason...

  Their baby. Because seeing him would remind me of my own child, Emma. Of the first time I'd held her. I hadn't been around children since, avoided it at all costs in fact. It was still a sore spot I was trying to heal. I hadn't had a moment to focus on my plans to bring her back, to seek out an Immortal who might carry her to term for me. I was too busy to focus on anything else.

  I sighed, folding up the piece of paper and tucking it into my pocket. I'd go, of course. I didn't have many friends. My colleagues saw me as a workaholic, hard-arse boss when it came to spending time with me. The only true friend I'd had in years was Cass. And perhaps I was starting to make bridges with Jameson too. For their sake, I'd be at their wedding.

  I scheduled it into the calendar on my phone. It synced with my PA's calendar, and the moment I sent her a notification to book me a flight to Norway, she emailed me. Girl was efficient to the T. I hadn't even met her; I'd had another employer conduct the interview. But they'd certainly done a good job finding her.

  Sir,

  You're scheduled to attend the Bridgehaven Charity Fundraiser that Saturday. Half of the House of Lords will be there. You need the contacts.

  Regards,

  Kate

  I frowned, eyeing the crow as it leapt up onto the shoulder of the passenger seat. The car swerved as the driver jerked away from it.

  I gazed back down at my screen, my fingers itching with my reply.

  Kate,

  I'm fully aware of the opportunity I'm passing up.

  Please book the flight.

  Silas Madigan

  CEO of I.D.A.H.O

  “Mate, please throw the crow out. I don't like the way it's looking at me,” the driver pleaded.

  I leant forward, suppressing a grin as I took hold of the bird.

  I took a pen from my bag, scribbling the words 'I'll be there' onto the back of Cass's message. Tying it to the crow's leg, I held the bird up to the open window. It stretched its wings, cawing once before it took flight, circling high into the sky, just a black dot against a wide blue canvas.

  I closed the window, a chill digging into me.

  “Are you gonna explain what the hell just happened?” the driver asked, eyeing me in the mirror.

  I dropped my gaze to the notes on my iPhone. “I've just been accepted into Hogwarts.”

  I woke to a scream. The kind of scream that spoke only of death.

  I bolted upright, crawling to the edge of my pod, gazing down at the horrible scene unfolding before my eyes. A girl was laying in the centre of the hall in a pool of blood. Her body was naked, twisted awkwardly on the cave floor, knife wounds puncturing her pale skin all over. A red sash was around her neck, but I already recognised her as one of the harem girls: the redhead, Reece.

  Meredith knelt before her, her eyes wide with horror as she shook the girl as if she could wake her.

  Hawke stormed out of his quarters, marching across the cave half-dressed, his chest bare. Others hurried closer as Meredith's screams grew to anguished wails.

  Hawke pulled her to her feet and she fell into his arms, sobbing against his chest.

  I spotted Harlen dropping to his knees, checking the girl's pulse, but it was obviously pointless. She was clearly dead and from the awkward, stiffness of her, I'd guessed she'd been dead for a while.

  God, who did this?

  I climbed down from my pod, edging closer, eyeing the girl's face.

  The rest of Hawke's harem arrived and Elise and Nanook broke down at the sight of the girl. Felicia's eyes wheeled to me accusingly and I stared calmly back at her.

  I didn't do this.

  Hawke gently pressed Meredith into Elise's arms, though she clung onto him with her nails for several seconds.

  Hawke grabbed a couple of the closest men, speaking to them in a low voice. “Move the body and have someone wrap her in linen for cremation.” He snapped his fingers at Harlen who rose to his feet, chin lifted. “Send word to the other leaders. Call a meeting. I want them assembled in thirty minutes.”

  “Yes, sir,” Harlen said, running from the cavern into the dark tunnel.

  Hawke's shoulders squared as he gazed around the clan. “Who did this?!” he bellowed, but silence rang out.

  “Why don't you question the Hunter girl?” Felicia demanded, her eyes as sharp as blades as she gazed at me.

  Hawke ground his jaw, his eyes flicking to me. A lump rose in my throat. Surely he didn't suspect I was involved? He jerked his head, beckoning me closer.

  I skirted through the crowd, coming to a halt before him. “I didn't do it,” I said immediately.

  He took hold of my elbow. “Of course not,” he hissed and relief rushed through me. “But someone did. And I have an idea of who.”

  “Bain?” I breathed, catching on to what he meant.

  “Yes, what did he say to you last night in the stairway?” he demanded.

  Eyes were narrowing on us and people were starting to mutter. Felicia seemed to be trying to kill me by pure will alone. One of the men had scooped Reece's body into his arms, a white sheet now slung over her.

  Hawke's fingers dug into my arm.

  “He said he wanted to challenge you for me,” I whispered, overly aware of our audience.

  Hawke's jaw ticked, his eyes dangerous. “Get dressed, be ready to leave in five minutes.”

  He released me and I fled back to my pod, anxiety blooming in my chest. I changed out of Iris's night gown into black trousers and another crop top. Why did Hawke want me to go with him? And where to?

  Heading back down the ladder, I found Hawke waiting for me, now dressed in armour, including his iron crown.

  He nodded as I arrived, guiding me out of the cave and I caught words from the other clan members like 'not normal' and 'breaking rules'. I didn't know what they meant, but was annoyed I was the one being gossiped about after what had happened.

  We met Harlen down a narrow tunnel,
panting heavily as he approached us. “They're heading to the great hall,” he said and Hawke gave him a stiff nod in answer, heading past him.

  I glanced back, finding Harlen watching us with a confused frown. I gave him a half-shrug, feeling as confused as he was. If not more so.

  Hawke turned a corner, tugging me after him and my heart started beating faster. Something was wrong. Why was everyone acting so strange about Hawke taking me? It wasn't like I wanted to go. He was practically dragging me. Couldn't they see that?

  We arrived in the large hall I'd had my first trial in. The thrones had been moved to the centre of the room in a circle, facing one another and the fire pit was just taking flame.

  We were the first to arrive. Hawke took his seat and I stood awkwardly beside him, glancing between the several passages leading off from the cavern.

  “Why am I here?” I hissed, the cold making the hairs on my arms prickle to attention.

  “You are a witness,” he said calmly, not looking at me.

  “Meredith is the one who found her,” I said. “I didn't see anything.”

  “That's not what you are a witness to.”

  My throat constricted. This was about Bain. Hawke was going to make me repeat what Bain had said to me, I was sure of it. But surely that would only provoke Bain further? And if it was him who'd killed that girl, that was putting me in the line of fire.

  I was about to air my anxious thoughts, when the other clan leaders arrived. Solomon was first, a large bear fur pulled in place around his shoulders, his owl swooping over him. “What's this about, Hawke?” he growled, taking his throne, his dark eyes swivelling to me. “And what the hell is she doing here? Clan members are not permitted at leader meetings.”

  Hawke remained silent, his brow furrowed.

  Arabella arrived in white furs and her polished crown, dropping into the seat opposite Hawke. “Explanation?” she demanded of Hawke.