Bloodhunter

by Laken Cane

  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 li
vely 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.

  I released an unthinking scream of rage, and the next thing I knew, Silverlight was lighting up the night and I was charging the vampires, death in my heart.

  The vampires scattered without making a sound—danger was a constant companion and they’d grown used to her—but the humans were a different matter.

  The one who’d been in the middle of a feeding climbed drunkenly to her feet, a gun in her hand. “Stop,” she croaked, and pulled the trigger.

  Lucky for me she was too smashed to focus, and the shot went wide. I heard a tree yelp when the bullet took off some bark, and then I concentrated on the vampires.

  There were six of them, but I figured there were more in the area—the trails had been many and varied—and I was right. More of them came running at the commotion, but strangely enough, they didn’t attack me. They turned tail and ran.

  What the hell kind of vampires ran?

  Ones that wanted to live.

  I squeezed Silverlight and walked toward the humans. “Are you okay?” I called.

  The woman waved the gun at me, a little stronger. “Go away!”

  I kept walking, but sheathed Silverlight. The vampires had mesmerized her, and that wasn’t her fault. “I can help you,” I told her. “Put the gun down.”

  She rubbed her face with her free hand, then stumbled backward and tripped over the log on which her attacker had sat, his fangs in her flesh. The gun flew from her grip.

  “Shit,” she cried. “Shit.” Her voice was still thick, her words slurred, but she seemed to be recovering quickly. She sat up and lunged for the gun, but I reached it first.

  I kicked it away. “Stop it,” I said. “Calm down. You’re all right.”

  I knelt at the downed man’s side, but kept my stare on the woman. I felt for a pulse, relieved when I found it. “He’s alive,” I told her.

  “Come on.” She wiped angrily at her eyes and began to cry. “Come on.”

  I stood, digging for my cell phone. “I’ll call for help.”

  “Leave us alone,” she screamed, suddenly, and turned to follow the vampires deeper into the woods.

  I went after her and when I caught her, I grabbed her arm and spun her around. She was about eight inches shorter than me and when I took her arm, it was like holding a stick. I eased my grip. “Lady, you’ll be okay. Stay still. The effects of the bite will wear off soon.”

  “Oh my God,” she said. “If you want a cause, go after the infected vampires. I don’t want you here. Can’t you understand?”

  And finally, I did.

  “You wanted to feed them.”

  “I’m with my friends.” She dropped to her knees, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed. “He’ll stop seeing me.”

  “Your vampire friend?” I couldn’t keep the disdain from my voice.

  She swallowed her tears and looked up at me. “My boyfriend, not that it’s your business.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve and then stood, jerking away from me when I reached out to steady her. “Who the fuck are you, anyway?” She continued on before I could answer. “Whoever you are, you’re not better than me. And you’re not better than them.”

  “Lady—”

  She shoved me, but was still too weak and loopy to put any muscle behind it. “Go away. You don’t belong here.”

  “Neither do you.”

  She poked a stiff finger into my chest, and that hurt a little. “It’s not your business. I’m an adult.”

  “Law says—” I began.

  “Fuck the law. And fuck you.”

  “I’m all for minding my own business when it comes to consenting adults,” I told her. “But the vampires mesmerize you. You don’t know any better. They make you think you want something you don’t.”

  She sighed, and the fight went out of her. Her eyes were stark and hopeless in the bloodless pale of her face, and she seemed to shrink just a little. “Are you going to turn me in?”

  I studied her. “I think you need to see a doctor.”

  Her stare was unflinching. “Answer me.”

  I looked heavenward, then finally, shook my head. “No, I won’t turn you in.”

  “Then please,” she said gently, “leave us alone. We’re not hurting anybody.”

  “Give me some information, and I’ll go.”

  She frowned, then wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “Information about what?”

  I pulled my phone from my pocket, then brought up the picture of Lucy’s killer. “Gordon Gray.” I turned the phone toward her and showed her the photo. “Do you know where he is?”

  She pushed the phone away. “Lucy’s guy.”

  “Yes. Where can I find him?”

  “You can’t. He knows he’s being hunted. He comes out to feed—mostly from animals—and then goes back into hiding. Lucy didn’t like him feeding from other people, said he was cheating on her.” She laughed, then shrugged and continued when I said nothing. “You won’t find him.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I will.”

  “Good luck.”

  She didn’t sound like she meant that at all.

  I gave the man another glance. “Do you want help, or are you happy offering yourself to the bloodsuckers as well?” I was full of contempt, and he wouldn’t look at me.

  “Awesome,” I muttered and turned away from both of them.

  But before I could leave them to their fates and head back to the road, where Angus would be waiting, the woman gave a horrified scream.

  And suddenly, we were surrounded by something much, much worse than mere vampires.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Infecteds,” she screamed. “Run!”

  But even as Silverlight attached to my arm, some of the infected vampires fell upon the woman and the male human, and the rest turned toward me.

  The infecteds. These were the diseased vampires Amias wanted me to end. These were the vampires spreading the virus that caused them to attack humans in clusters.

  I didn’t want Silverlight to touch those diseased bodies, but the only other choice was to run. I could have outrun them, I was pretty sure. They were sick and starving and a little slower.

  But there were two humans there, and I was a hunter. I was a vampire killer.

  And hunters didn’t run away.

  “Sorry about this,” I muttered to the sword, and ran her through the disgusting body of an infected as he leaned over the woman. Another infected ran at me, his mouth wide, screaming his rage to the world. Death, hunger, rage. That was all they felt. All they were.

  One of his fangs was broken, and the other was long and discolored, jagged and sharp. I felt a little sorry for him for about two seconds.

  Silverlight slid through his neck like it was a thick loaf of bread, and before the head listed to the side and began to fall, I turned to beat away the vampires throwing themselves at the humans.

  Usually I lost my fear during a battle, but this was not a normal battle. I didn’t want those diseased creatures to touch
me, but it wasn’t just that. They were carrying the disease that Amias had carried when he’d attacked me and my family, and those memories had begun resurfacing at an alarming rate.

  The viciousness of those memories caught me off guard. They took my breath, sent me back to that house, to that street, to that time.

  “No, no, no,” I muttered. I tried to shake them away, but they were stubborn, those memories, and they would do as they pleased.

  Since the attack, I’d tried not to think about what had happened. I didn’t see the point in allowing myself to dwell on that horrible night. The loss was too great, the pain too severe. But sometimes, the memories grew tired of being suppressed and they exploded free and began beating me with clubs and bricks and hammers, taking advantage of their momentary freedom to hurt me.

  Amias had been in the early stages when he’d attacked my family, and though he’d had the rage, hunger, and confusion running through him, he was able to speak and to think. Somewhat. And he’d been a master. Old. Powerful.

  Still, they had the same feel to them. And I think that was what set me off.

  Silverlight did what she needed to do, but she did it without me, at least for a few fuzzy minutes. Because for a little while, I wasn’t even there. I was at my sister’s house on Thanksgiving, with Amias.

  “Shall I live, or shall I die?”

  “Trinity, get in the house. Get in the house!”

  “I made a mistake.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Pain ripping through me, Children screaming, death, blood, flesh tearing and bones crunching and horror. Just horror.

  But then I was back, surrounded by the infecteds, and I was…

  Angry.

  Vicious.

  I no longer cared that their filth might get on me, that their blood might splash on my skin, that I might somehow contract their disease.

  Again.

  I was afraid of none of those things.

  I was Death, and with Silverlight in my grip, I ripped through the hungry vampires, screaming, my teeth clenched, my heart singing. I lost my mind.

  But then I saw something that brought my sanity screaming back to me, and fear chased away the dark rage.

  Angus.

  He roared into the clearing, his horns wicked, his body huge and black, muscle bunching and rippling, deadly. But maybe even Angus could become infected. And that terrified me.