The Hybrid Series | Book 2 | Hunted

by Stead, Nick

  “I am sorry, Nick, but I could not risk taking you to my sister whilst you were still so out of control. She is the one witch still on our side, as far as I know, and if we are to fight the Slayers – as you have been so desperate to do – her powers will prove invaluable. Taking you to Selina could have proven disastrous for all three of us, so I had to be sure you had mastered your self-control first. Now please, there will be time for more of your questions later, but for now we must move on, before we are discovered here.”

  I’d been curious for so long as to what the vampire did on a night besides feeding, but the truth only fed my anger. I wasn’t satisfied with her reasons for keeping me in the dark, and we would no doubt argue again, once we’d reached safer surroundings. But no sooner had we left the cover of the woods than a shot rang through the night, and the smell of blood came from a bullet wound in Lady Sarah’s chest. Before any of us could react, two more shots sounded, and two more bullets hit the vampire. Just as she collapsed, another bullet thudded into my own chest and my entire ribcage seared with pain. I was forced to my knees, struggling to breathe and trying to force the transformation to full wolf before I was hit again. Selina was more vulnerable. She must have known she’d never be able to invoke any incantations in time, so she began to run. But moments later I heard another gunshot, and I saw her go down as well.

  Through the pain, I sensed the approach of a human and recognised the scent – it was the same Slayer who’d almost killed me before, come to ensure I died for real this time. I glared up at him, knowing he’d fire the killing shot before I could do a damn thing about it. But he didn’t fire again, instead striking me across the head with the butt of his gun.

  I fell to the ground beside Lady Sarah, blackness closing in. Whether she was alive or dead I couldn’t tell, but I had to assume Selina had been killed, frail as her body was without the help of witchcraft. It didn’t matter. There was nothing I could do for either of them as I slipped into unconsciousness, and I knew no more.

  EPILOGUE

  Dusk approaches and I fall silent. The full moon has passed for another month, but I haven’t eaten all day and I need to feed. And yes, I mean to kill again. Do you hate me for that? I can’t say I blame you – I think a part of me still hates myself. I might have found peace for a time when I allowed my mind to become whole, but it wouldn’t last or we wouldn’t be here, now. All those horrific acts I’ve committed still burden my conscience, what remains of it, and a part of me still longs for the life I could have had if it hadn’t been for my curse. Such is the nature of my wretched existence, yet I continue to kill and indulge my bloodlust all the same.

  Footsteps crunch over the bed of fallen leaves and I slink towards them, intent on my next prey. You might be giving me an accusatory glare if you were still flesh and blood, but would you really prefer me to feed on your rotting corpse?

  How frustrating it must be to remain powerless to influence the events unfolding. I’m about to take another life and you can do nothing to stop me, except attempt to appeal to my better nature, if only I still had one. But darkness rules me and it will claim another life, this person about to meet as equally a brutal end as the one I dealt you.

  A scent reaches me and I pause, listening intently. More humans, moving too stealthily for the general public. I’ve lingered here too long and now it seems my enemies have found me once again. My intended victim will live to see another day after all. If only the Slayers had turned up to disturb me last night, then perhaps you would have survived crossing paths with me as well.

  I retreat deeper into the woods, pausing to return to my wolf form. The Slayers are on my trail and there are too many of them to fight this time, but I feel confident I can outrun them. Come with me if you wish, and I will tell the next part of my story after I’ve lost them and satisfied my hunger once more. Perhaps we are bound to each other now, you and I, and we must see this tale through to its end. Or do you want the Slayers to succeed this time and end it sooner? No matter – that is not to be my fate this night, whether you want it to happen or not.

  Effortlessly I bound across the woodland floor, my enemies falling behind. I pass through the treeline and onto the streets you once called home. At least the Slayers will find your mortal remains and may grant you the dignity of a proper burial.

  Soon all ties to your life are far behind us, just as it was for me when the curse first forced me to move on. But I have long since grown used to this lifestyle, despite the struggle to adjust I initially faced all those years ago, and I will find more temporary shelter where I will continue my tale. Yes, we are bound to each other now, you and I, and I feel sure you will be with me to the end.

  Dear Readers

  Thanks for reading Hunted. I really hope you enjoyed this second instalment in my Hybrid series and will check out Vengeance (second edition coming soon!). The series has been a real labour of love over the seventeen years it’s taken to get to these revised versions, and is the result of hundreds of long hours spent at my desk. If I could ask a few moments of your time in return, please would you write me a review?

  It doesn’t have to be detailed. In fact, you don’t even have to write anything if you don’t want to – even a star rating is a big help! But reviews are really important for bringing new readers to the series, and bringing me a step closer to my dream of quitting my day job and becoming a full time author.

  I’m always grateful to my readers who take the time to do this for me, and I do read each and every one of them. A good review always makes my day, and a critical review can provide the feedback I need to keep on improving and growing as a writer.

  So if you wouldn’t mind heading over to Amazon, all you need to do is click:

  Amazon.com/orders for US Orders

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  Then click ‘write a product review' next to your Hunted order.

  If you're on Goodreads and wouldn't mind going to https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14138888.Nick_Stead and clicking the star rating on the right hand side, and then if you want to write a review to go with your rating it will invite you to do just that.

  Thanks again!

  VENGEANCE (Sample)

  Book Three of the Hybrid Series

  Fear shot through me as my eyes opened to blackness. Its cold waves sent me into a panic, old phobias overriding any rational thought. Why couldn’t I see? Was it a problem with my eyes? My heart pounded at the prospect. Surely death would be better than that.

  The last thing I remembered was being struck by the seasoned Slayer – the man who’d come so close to ending my life, if it hadn’t been for Selina’s witchcraft. He’d fired five shots during our latest encounter. Three of those bullets had hit Lady Sarah, and the fourth had landed in my own chest, turning my upper body to a fleshy container for the blazing agony left by the destructive metal lump. I’d fallen to my knees besides the vampire’s prone form, rendered helpless until I could repair the damage through the regenerative power of the transformation.

  The fifth bullet had been for Selina. I’d seen her go down as well, and I’d had no way of knowing if either of them were alive or dead. And then nothing. The Slayer had knocked me out, and now I was here. Wherever here was.

  My chest had been freed of the searing pain raging through it before I’d lost consciousness. It seemed my body had automatically reverted back to human form while I’d been out, to heal the damage before my life leaked out of my wound. And yes, there was the usual hunger that accompanied any transformation. There was also thirst, my mouth so dry that my tongue stuck to the inside of it. Even werewolves have to stay hydrated.

  The air was warm and still on my bare skin. It reminded me of the one time I’d been in the London Underground in my old life, and I had to wonder if I’d been taken somewhere deep beneath the soil. Perhaps they’d even sealed me within my own personal tomb. I’d definitely been moved, at any rate. The surface I now lay on was not the softness of vegetation but somethin
g hard and uncomfortable. I was no longer out in the woods.

  I fought to control my fear and the growing sense of dread, attempting to force my imagination in a more optimistic direction. Maybe I was inside another of the Slayers’ bases. But why would they take me alive after months of trying so hard to kill me? And if I had been imprisoned again, where were the guards? I could detect no other creatures nearby, human or otherwise.

  With shaking hands, I reached out to feel the air around me. My outstretched fingers met no resistance. There were no bars like the electric ones I’d been behind when last captured by my enemies, nor were there any walls. That set off a fresh pang of terror. What if I was wrong about my surroundings, and I wasn’t inside after all? That could only mean my initial fear had been correct and it was blindness preventing me from seeing.

  I whimpered and started to crawl across the hard floor. It wasn’t until I’d gone a few feet forward that my hand finally met a wall. I let out a sigh of relief. My instincts had been right all along – it looked like I was inside some kind of chamber. But the wall was smooth and uneven, stone I guessed. Maybe this wasn’t a place constructed by humans like I’d first assumed – could they have taken me inside some kind of natural cave?

  I pushed myself to keep moving, continuing to blindly feel my way along the wall. Moments later my hands found a corner where the adjacent wall connected, and I decided I must be in some kind of man-made room after all. The corner felt too artificial to have been formed by the elements.

  So why had I not been locked in another cage, with more armed guards to watch over me? In the last base they’d imprisoned me in, the Slayers had been taking no chances. That base had been full of rooms with cages specifically built to hold undead, so why would this one be any different? It made no sense.

  My weak attempt to calm myself had been mostly unsuccessful, my heart still pounding at an unhealthy rate. I forced myself to take a few deep breaths and gradually the muscular pump slowed into its usual steady rhythm. Whatever was going on, panicking wasn’t going to help. And once I was calmer, I was able to think clearly enough to try using the transformation to restore my sight.

  My energy was too drained to risk taking it fully to wolf, or even my hybrid wolf-man form. Instead I focused on my eyes, remembering how they’d changed when I’d first allowed the two halves of my mind to become one again. Those changes seemed to have been temporary. My ears were back to being rounded, my small fangs blunt once more, and my nose had reverted to its human shape. The same went for my eyes – the irises were their usual human colour and size. I’m not sure how I knew that with such certainty. I just did.

  There came the familiar pain as primal fury burned through the calmer hazel. But no light came flooding in, no images or shapes in the darkness waiting to greet my lupine amber. The blackness remained every bit as complete and impenetrable as it had to my human eyes.

  It had to be the lack of light in the room preventing me from seeing then. Somehow I didn’t find that thought particularly comforting.

  Matters were made worse by the lack of helpful scents or sounds I could have used to create a mental image of my surroundings. Deprived of the senses I usually relied so heavily on, I couldn’t help but feel vulnerable. It seemed touch was all I had, and I was forced to carry on feeling my way around the room like a blind man.

  The lack of light troubled me on another level as well. I thought it sinister that the Slayers hadn’t bothered to provide any artificial light in the room. Maybe they wanted me unnerved as part of some new kind of torture they’d devised, perhaps in the hopes of questioning me again like they had the last time they’d captured me. Or maybe this was all part of some sick pleasure to satisfy their need for revenge. Maybe my first thought on my surroundings had been the right one. Was this to be my tomb?

  But then, why not just kill me while I’d been shot and at their mercy, instead of taking me alive and risking me escaping again? I could understand if they wanted it to be long and drawn out so they could watch me suffer before the end, but there were no lights in the darkness that indicated any cameras. I supposed it might be possible for them to watch through the powers of witchcraft, but somehow that didn’t feel like a satisfactory explanation. There was more at work here, I was sure of it.

  Driven by that thought, I attempted to learn all I could through my sense of touch. I didn’t know what I hoped to find but there was one thing I could rely on at least – if the Slayers had brought me into this room, that meant there had to be a way out of it. Not that I expected it to be as easy as feeling a door handle set into one of the walls, but I hoped there might be some clue as to where the exit was. If I could locate the door, then I might be able to find a way to escape.

  I worked my way around the room, my hope waning with every step. It was beginning to seem it would yield no further secrets, when finally my questing fingers found a crevice running down the length of the stone – the kind that might indicate a doorway.

  With a pang of excitement, I felt across and sure enough, there was another slight crack, further on. It definitely seemed to be some kind of door or panel set into the wall, but the panel itself felt no different to the surrounding stone. There was nothing of interest on either side of it either. Whatever opening mechanism the Slayers had used to bring me through must be on the outside of the room. My heart sank. I hadn’t really expected anything different but it was disappointing all the same.

  It looked like my only hope of escaping was through brute force. I knew I had to be careful not to injure myself though, with my energy so low. Who knew how long it would be before I could feed again?

  First I tried leaning against the panel and pressing my weight into it, to test if there was any give. I had no way of knowing if it was the kind of door that opened inwards or outwards, or whether it was some kind of sliding panel operated by a button or something. Maybe if I knew more about architecture I could have tried feeling for more clues, but it wasn’t something I’d ever had a reason to study in my human life. In any case, the stone remained a solid barrier between me and my freedom, regardless of how hard I pushed.

  Next I tried letting my nails lengthen into claws, digging them into the stone until I had some handholds to pull it with. I heaved with all the strength I could muster from my battered human body, but no matter which way I pulled, the panel refused to budge. It might as well have been fused into the wall, and without knowing which way it was supposed to push or pull, or slide, I was only using up more of my precious energy. I soon gave up my attempts to force it open, feeling that left me with one choice. I would have to try and break through the stone.

  The curse granted me a strength greater than any human, but it still paled in comparison to the full ferocity of my lupine might. I could feel it just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed again. But another change without feeding would leave me weak. My human form would have to be enough.

  I could possibly have punched my way through if the panel wasn’t too thick, but I didn’t want to risk breaking my hand. Instead I decided to throw myself against it to spread the impact, counting on being able to shatter it with the combined supernatural force and my own weight.

  Flesh slammed into stone, the collision jarring every bone in my body. But the stone held fast. My fingers could find no evidence of even the slightest of fractures. I steeled myself for another attempt, but after trying twice more, I had nothing to show for it, other than the feeling of bruised flesh throbbing beneath my skin. Brute force wasn’t going to work after all. And where did I go from there? I felt so lost without my eyesight, even though it was entirely possible I’d have been just as clueless with it as I was without.

  Worst of all was the knowledge of the fate awaiting me if I couldn’t find a way out. The thought of being left to rot in the darkness, suffering the slow, agonising death of starvation, was too much to bear. Only the transformation would save me from the damage it would exact on my body. And yet, without being able to feed, my
cells would lack the energy needed to transform, and eventually my heart and brain would fail just as surely as if the Slayers had put a bullet through them. But not before the hunger drove me back to teetering on the brink of sanity, until I fell into more madness.

  When the Slayers had starved me before, I’d been reduced to a primal beast, my mind far more primitive than the wolf had ever been, before we’d become one. Did I face the same torment again? Or would it be different now I was further along in my lycanthropy? Either way, I doubted it would be any easier.

  Anger stirred within, a coiled serpent in the darkest part of my being, just waiting to be set free and fed into rage. I let it rise up until it became a monstrous fiery dragon, blazing with all the feral fury of the curse and filling every inch of me. Livid thoughts seared across my brain. After everything I’d been through, this couldn’t be how it ended.

  I’d thought being executed by the vampires would be bad enough, especially when I hadn’t been guilty of the murders they’d accused me of. But at least that would have been a quick, clean end to my cursed existence, even if it wasn’t the one I would have chosen. And I’d escaped that sentence, for what? To be subjected to something even more terrible? That’s exactly what I faced if I didn’t find a way out of this cavern. I couldn’t just give up and surrender myself to such torment, not while I still had the strength to fight.

  With a bestial roar, I let the rage send me into a frenzy, raking my claws across the stone and carving deep gouges into the door. It was no use. I didn’t seem to be any closer to breaking through, the panel apparently much thicker than I’d anticipated. My anger would not be so easily defeated, however, and it drove me to lash out again and again. No inch of the stone was safe. My fists sought out anything and everything they could connect with in the darkness, and my caution was long gone, silenced by the deafening thunder of my rage. There had to be a way out and I would find it, no matter the cost. The alternative was just too horrific to accept.