by K. A Knight
I fall backwards, slammed into the tree as I close my eyes, focusing on the darkness trying to pull my skin apart.
No!
I yell and push it further and further back, but it fights me in a battle of wills. It’s been years since it’s been let out…not since the night it first appeared. The night in the forest when he—fuck.
Even thinking about it has anger surging through me, anger like no human or supe possesses. This is pure monster rage. I feel its urges to kill, to feed, to make them all pay for what happened to me.
For being cast out, tortured all my life…for what he did to me.
It’s a battle, but eventually with the help of my tiger and wolf, I manage to cage it up deep inside me. I sag against the tree then, opening my eyes as my heart hammers and sweat slicks my body. That was too close. If it got free, no one would be safe. This world would be ripped apart until nothing but a bloody mess remained.
I don’t know if I was born with it. I never felt it before that night…so maybe it was always there, hiding. I don’t know. All I know is when I had been at my lowest, when I was near death, my blood slicking the forest ground, my body broken, my animals cowed, it appeared. It filled me with its warm embrace, changing me, protecting me.
Saving me.
I know without it, I would be dead, but ever since, I’ve been different. Quicker to anger, more heightened emotions…and my bloodlust is stronger. Is that the price I’ll pay every time it’s let free? I don’t know, but I can’t risk it.
So locked inside it stays.
With the only person who has seen it dead, I will go to the grave with my dark little secret.
A roar fills the forest, followed by a flapping of wings. I look up in astonishment to see a dragon soaring away from here. Luckily, it doesn’t spot me, those bastards are nearly impossible to kill. I wonder what it’s doing here. I watch it swoop away from the city and disappear into the clouds.
I give myself a moment to recover before I get dressed, my body still shaking from that near miss. I feel better with my clothes on, and after giving myself a shake, I step from the forest and walk quickly to the edge of the city. I make my way to the slums where I left my bike and pull the cardboard free. Swinging my leg over the seat, I waste no time gunning it towards my locker. My house is too far, but I have an emergency evac locker not too far from here.
After all, you never know.
Pulling into the storage center, I wait for the barrier to rise as it recognises my number plate before I pull around the back of the building and to the far units where I hid mine. Turning off the bike, I dismount and stride over to the steel grey shutter, which is rolled down and locked. Not with just any lock though.
Magic, bitches.
I look around at the dark empty lot, grinning as I turn back and press my finger to the big, old-style lock there. I feel the magic pass through me, checking it’s really me. It can see past enchantments, shifters, and even glamour. I got it from a pixie who owed me a favour after I helped fake his death.
Leaning down, I pull up the shutter and slip under. It falls shut behind me as the automatic lights flicker on with a slight buzz, illuminating my armoury, as I call it. All three walls are covered from floor to ceiling with LED back lit shelves. In the middle of the big space are three metal tables with boxes of amulets, spells, and books I might need. They also hold my go bag with ten passports, money, two phones, weapons, a wig, and change of clothes. To the right, next to the end of the shelves, is a railing of tactical clothing, dresses, and anything I might need in a pinch.
I’m not big on guns, but I have a few next to the rail on the shelves. Some are filled with refracted sunlight to slow down vamps. There are others with silver hollow points that leak pure molten silver when they hit a shifter, and one that shoots a bullet of holy water for demons. A girl can never be too prepared. I also have a flamethrower, but I haven’t tried that baby yet. I’m saving that for my next nest of vamps.
Stripping out of my jacket, I head to the back wall. My favourite one. From floor to ceiling, it’s filled with blades. Some are dipped in spells. Some are cursed. Some are plain silver. Some are forged from holy steel. All of them, however, are for kicking ass and killing monsters. They range from small, hidden knives to a huge ass fucking claymore sword at the top which, I admit, I used once and found it wasn’t really worth the hassle, but fuck, I looked badass with it.
I take a few of the smaller blades and hide them in my jeans before I select some of the bigger ones, choosing a nice pile which I lay out on the table. I grab my sheaths— one around my hips, one around my left thigh, and one across my shoulders—and slip into them. All are custom-made leather, which hugs my body and doesn’t restrict my movements. A hunter is only as good as her equipment, after all. I carefully place each knife into its home and check the grip and pull to make sure I can easily access them. I ensure to get silver, silver to kill the fae. I add some mist silver as well, a can which looks like a small pepper spray, but instead, blows enchanted silver which can kill a fae if used correctly.
I add a few surprises as well and slip a protective amulet over my head. It should shield me from anything the fae throws at me magic wise, but you never know. I add a thin, sheer silver chain mail vest before shucking on my jacket and zipping up. Ready to go, I leave my unit, lock it, get back on my bike, and speed towards my destination.
My prey.
I find the address in record time. From the outside, it looks like all the other two-story houses on this street, but a closer look reveals it as a hotel for one person. Like an Airbnb, but for those posh bastards. I linger across the road, sifting through the scents of the humans on either side. I smell three fae and at least fifteen humans.
This should be fun.
Cracking my neck from side to side, I decide to take the easiest approach—kicking down the front door. I head up the small path to the black door with the gold lion door knocker, and then I get ready to kick it down just as it opens, revealing a human. His head is turned away as he talks to someone inside.
“I’m going, I’m going, the pizza won’t even—” He turns as he speaks, ready to leave, and I knock him out. I smash my fist into his face before dragging him backwards and throwing his body into the bushes by the door. Straightening, I look to see another human heading across the foyer to the open doorway.
“Patrick, what did you say? What the fuck?” he starts, reaching for his gun at his hip when he spots me. I quickly throw one of my knives and watch him go down. Grabbing his feet, I drag him outside and toss him into the bushes too. Two men down, only thirteen humans to go. I manage to get through the door this time. My dirty boots leave footprints on the spotless white floor of the foyer.
The entryway is huge, with a crystal chandelier hanging down and paintings covering most of the walls. To the right is a hallway that leads away, and right in front of me is a curving staircase. I’m betting the boss is up there, but I need to kill the humans first, or they will get all heroic and try to stop me. Which is annoying as hell. You ever get in the middle of a really badass killing moment, only for someone to knock on the door?
Yeah, not fun.
I kick the door shut, in case any nosy neighbours or passersby try to investigate, and pull two of my knives, holding them in my fists as I stroll down the corridor to the right. I head straight for the human voices I hear down there. There is the dull buzz of the TV as well, and whatever stupid action film they are watching. The idiots don’t even hear me coming as I step into the living room. There are three of them leaning forward on a black leather sofa, their backs to me as they watch the TV. Rolling my eyes, I step up behind the first one, grab his head, and snap his neck. One turns, but I’m already there, slitting his throat.
“The fuck—” The third barely speaks before I rip his head from his body and drop it to the floor. Whistling, I turn away and prowl back into the corridor, ignoring the urge to go back there and feed. There are two more doors down here. One
is a bit farther down with an open archway, which I step through. It’s a state-of-the-art kitchen. There is a human making a sandwich, and one sitting at a breakfast nook in the corner, looking out of the window and nursing a mug of coffee, which smells amazing.
I throw my knife at the one sitting, and it goes straight through his neck. I turn to the sandwich maker as the other dies. He grabs the bread knife covered in crumbs and comes at me. I duck his desperate slashes and grab it with a laugh, twisting his hand and impaling his heart. His brown eyes meet mine, blinking as he looks down in shock. I blow, and he falls backwards to the floor. His hands close on the blade as he sucks in short, shallow, bloody gasps. Stepping over him, I grab a slice of cheese and munch on it as I head to the man at the table, who’s taking forever to die. He’s grabbed a napkin and is holding it to his neck, the bloodied knife on the table. But the blood is pumping too steadily. He will die, and right now, he’s suffering, so I snap his neck and let his body slump forward onto the table with a bang.
Pursing my lips, I grab his mug, take a sip, and with a shrug, take a bigger drink of the coffee. Not bad.
“What the fuck is taking you idiots so long?” I hear, and I take a sniff.
One of the fae.
He marches through the other door at the end of the corridor and heads right into the room. Our eyes meet for a moment as he looks around, and then the floor starts to heave under me as he yells. Great. A fucking elemental user. I hate them. Ever tried to kill someone while dodging boulders or killer trees?
Not easy.
I roll over the floor, which comes up behind me, and throw a knife, but he dodges it and flings magic at me. It hits me, but the amulet absorbs it. It can only take a certain amount of hits though. He throws another, and I roll to the side to dodge it while hurling another knife. This one hits my mark, embedding in his thigh. He screams and grabs it, yanking it out, but the steel does its job. He throws it on the floor with a clank, and I hear the other humans rushing this way, no doubt called by the commotion.
He turns his head to meet their eyes. His mistake. I throw myself at him, stabbing down with two steel blades. They both slide into his chest from the force of us landing on the floor and sliding into the hall. Panting, I look up to see four humans, their guns aimed at me.
Shit.
Leaving the blades, I throw myself backwards as bullets explode where I just was. The fae’s body twitches from the impact. The thunder of the barrage is loud, and I cover my ears and wait, watching it destroy the wooden door at the end. But the firing never stops, and I get bored. Sneaking to the back of the kitchen, I peek around the door to see one reloading while another stops. I hold my breath and wait. The other two eventually stop firing, probably thinking they got me. I hear the racing of their hearts, and I lick my lips.
The adrenaline infused blood pumping through their veins calls to me as I dart my eyes around for a plan. With a grin, I get on my feet and back up, taking a running start as I race with shifter speed to the opposite wall of the hallway as they bring the guns up and start to fire again. But I’m too fast. I flip off the wall, grab onto the light overhead, and swing at them. My feet connect with two, knocking them back. I feel a bullet embed in my thigh, but it doesn’t even slow me down as I throw a spell at one. It explodes all over him, setting him on fire. As he screams, I grab another knife and slash out at the next, cutting through the arm he brings up to protect himself. I drive him back into the wall as he tries to defend himself before I manage to stab it into his stomach and into the wall behind him, impaling him there.
Skewering him.
I turn as the other two get to their feet, their guns swinging up again.
I grab a gun, and with no other option, I turn it and pull the trigger. His body jerks from the impact as I turn to the second and fire, his brain exploding as I watch. Heart racing from the fight, I roll back my shoulders.
I fucking hate guns. Dropping the weapon to the ground, I slick my hair over my shoulder, straighten my jacket, and step into the foyer. I feel blood running down my leg, and I know I’ll need to get the bullet out later before it can heal, but it doesn’t slow me, so I ignore it for now.
“Fucking humans,” I mutter as I head upstairs. “Stupid guns,” I carry on, pulling a knife as I go and throwing it at the human I hear coming down the stairs without even looking. I walk past him as he tumbles down the steps, the knife embedded in his chest.
When I reach the top, I check my weapons. I only have three knives remaining, not including the one in my boot. Fuck it, two fae left? I’ve got this.
The second floor stretches left and right, but I hear the fae to the left, so I head that way to the large golden doors at the end. Typical. I kick them open and meet the shocked eyes of the two fae there. The bossman is sitting behind a desk with a cigar on the polished surface before him. A half empty bottle of magic scotch sits next to him. His long, black hair is pulled to the side, hiding his ears. He has one grey eye, and the other is missing with a scar through it. Next to him, pacing and screaming into the phone, is the other fae. A skinny, tall, green-haired fellow. His hair is short, and one of his ears has a bite in it, so it’s missing the tip. His face is mottled and red, and he has on a leather jacket that has wings on the back saying “The Winged.” Real subtle.
The room is clearly an office, with monitors on the back wall for security, showing video of the whole house. There are two sofas to the side with a bar between them, and to the left of the desk he’s sitting behind, there are chairs and a long dining table.
They both stop and turn to me as I stand there. “Hello, boys, nice house. Hope you didn’t mind me just dropping by.”
“Who the fuck are you?” the bossman calls as the other fae starts to gather his magic, but his boss stops him with a shake of his head, no doubt wondering if he can negotiate with me. Fae are known for their slick tongues, after all.
“Jehovah’s Witness,” I deadpan and roll my eyes. “I’m your executioner. Can we skip the whole money offering, pleading, and finally threats, and just get to the killing? I’ve had a long night, and I really want to sleep.”
He narrows his eyes, his nostrils flaring. “Shifter,” he hisses.
“Ding, ding, very smart.” I point at him. “Gold star.”
“Council lackey,” the other spits. “I can almost smell the servitude and lack of brain.”
“Wow, dude, not smart to insult the person here to kill you. Shit like that could make me kill you slowly and painfully. Luckily for you, I’m not in a torturing mood, you know? I think I ate too big of a dinner—”
He throws his magic at me. I don’t even dodge it, needing to show them who’s in charge. The amulet absorbs it, but I feel its strength lessening. I probably only have one or two more good strikes left in it before whatever magic they throw will hit my actual skin, and that shit will hurt.
“Kill her,” the boss man orders.
“Bring it, fae bitch. I’ll bite off your other Lord of the Rings ear,” I snarl as he throws more magic. This time I avoid it, and it hits the wall, which starts to melt it. Oh, wonderful. Couldn’t his magic be like puppies or flowers? He smirks at me and gathers more. Fuck this.
I grab the table to the left and toss it at him. He flies back through the air, hitting the wall and slumping down onto the sofa, eyes closed. I turn back to bossman, ready to end this, when two rapid magic balls hit me, flinging me backwards. I tumble across the floor with a groan, the amulet at my neck smoking and starting to burn into my skin. I rip it off and throw it away.
Okay, old school it is.
I point at the boss, who’s watching us with a grin, drinking the magic scotch. “Don’t move,” I order as I get to my feet and face off with the other fae. Who obviously recovered way faster than I thought and is climbing to his feet. He throws magic again, and I duck. I can’t afford to be hit again.
I race towards him, using a burst of my shifter speed, but it slows down my reaction time and he lobs more magic. It h
its me right in the side, and I instantly feel the burn, like a fire burrowing into my skin. I grit my teeth in agony. My monster rushes to the forefront, forming giant black claws on my hands which I slash across him. Slit and rip. Bloodlust fills me as I scream, the noise shaking the glass and cracking it as I wail. Red covers my vision as the monster starts to take over, until I manage to pull back and stumble away.
My side aches, and I look down to see my jacket burnt through. The chain mail stopped some of it, but I can see my scorched skin underneath. My shifter healing won’t even be able to heal that unless I change, which I can’t do yet. Motherfucker.
Looking up, chest heaving, mouth open, I lock eyes with the unmoving mass that is the fae. He’s ripped apart, more blood and muscle than skin. There is blood everywhere, and I feel my claws retract and my eyes turn back to normal as I suck in air and turn to look at the bossman.
His eyes are wide, his mouth dropped open as he looks from his man to me. “What the fuck are you?” he whispers.
“Fucking Santa,” I mutter as I stomp over to him.
He gulps, pushing his chair back, but he doesn’t try to escape me. He knows it wouldn’t go well. “Don’t do this. I can offer you more money than the council ever could.”
I roll my eyes at the blatant blackmail. People have a lot of responses when faced with death—crying, screaming, begging, bargaining, and acceptance. Or a mix and match of them all, depending on who or what they are. When he sees it won’t work, he slumps. “One day, you will kill the wrong person, or they will grow tired of you and have you killed. All these lives you take won’t mean anything. They will discard you like they do everyone else. You have no idea what they are really like,” he snaps.
I still for a moment before licking my lips. “Maybe, but right now, they are all that’s keeping me from being a stray and having to fight every day of my life,” I admit honestly.
