by L. C. Davis
“Can I get you something to drink?” Clara asked, her voice even gentler than usual.
“Bourbon, if you have any. Thanks.” He gave her a flicker of a smile. It obviously took all the energy he had.
I briefly wondered if Clara was going to refuse because of his age, but she brought him a glass and he thanked her as she sat back down. He took a long swig and leaned back in his chair with no sign of distaste. Either he was a perpetual underage drinker or he really was a lot older than he looked.
Everyone was quiet for a moment. I think we could all tell that there was more to Hunter being here than Victor's story accounted for, but no one dared to question it.
“I hate to ask this, but what was the casualty rate?” Clara finally asked.
“Fifty-four” muttered Victor. “Six left, including him. The others were in town, away from the park.”
“The park?” I asked, confused.
“Our pack has owned an RV park ever since my grandfather brought the original members together. Since we're such a large pack, it's the best way for everyone to have their own space, but still easy to pick up and move when we need to.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “Believe it or not, Remus, most wolves aren't sophisticated enough for fancy sex dungeons and mansions.”
If I didn't know better, I'd say Victor was blushing. Clara stifled a small laugh.
“That is a surprise,” I agreed. “And kind of a relief.”
Hunter's face went lifeless again. “We've lived quietly in that area for generations with no trouble. We keep our own in line and the vampires, too,” he said, nodding to me. “No offense.”
“None taken,” I assured him.
“The attack was completely unprovoked,” he went on. “They just stormed in, overturning trailers, daggering every wolf they could find.” His voice hitched a little, and I thought he was going to cry but he held it together somehow. “I should have stayed, but I tried to get my mother and the younger ones to safety first. She hasn't been able to shift for a long time, but the others could fight—at least, the adults.”
“Children?” Foster's eyes were wide with horror. It was the first time he had spoken all night. “The hunters killed children?”
“Yes,” Hunter said. His eyes were solid black now. “Without a second's hesitation. I transformed, took the others into the forest and ran, but I could hear—they were ruthless. I don't even think they're alive. There's nothing good in them,” he said through gritted teeth. “I thought we had gotten away, but they were just setting a trap. Playing with us. They let me get almost close enough to reach my father before they shot me in the back with a wolfsbane dart.”
He took a deep breath before he continued. “When I woke up, I was on top of a pile of bodies, hers included. They pinned a note to my chest with a silver dagger just hair shy of my heart.”
The room was silent, even Victor who already knew the story. We all knew better than to offer empty platitudes and hollow sympathy that might crack the fragile facade of calm the young man was wearing.
“What did the note say?” Sebastian asked, finally breaking the silence.
Hunter reached into the pocket of his tattered leather jacket and pulled out a crumpled sheet of what looked like parchment before handing it to him. Sebastian's eyes scanned the page and I recognized the look of rage building on his face as he read.
“Dearest...Heather?” He squinted like he hadn't read it right before he continued. “As they say, don't kill the messenger, especially when you need her to deliver the most important message of all. The abomination has been revealed and you'll all pay the price for it. One bye one, every clan and pack will be decimated. You and the others were spared for a reason. Those who survive will have the privilege of burning in the cleansing light of our Father once and for all.
Warn the others or don't. There is no stopping it. Tell Ulric the truce is over.” Sebastian sighed deeply and looked up from the letter. “It's signed, 'The Family'”
I could tell Sebastian was struggling not to crumple the paper before he handed it back to Hunter, folding it at the slit where the knife had pierced through. I could tell he was as confused as I was about certain parts of the letter, but he didn't ask any questions and I decided to follow suit. For now.
There was so much about the letter that didn't make sense, even for a psychopathic family whose idea of family game night was a supernatural killing spree. “The abomination?” “The cleansing light of our Father?” I wished I had taken Ulric's reading more seriously because it sounded like something taken right out of the legend.
“Have we not moved beyond waging wars fueled by fairy tales?” Clara asked, her voice quivering in anger. “The humans do a good enough job of that as it is.”
Foster hung his head, but said nothing.
“Don't the hunters think they're descended from the sun or something?” I asked carefully. “It sounds like they want revenge on the vampires and werewolves for killing that prince in the legend.”
“It's certainly a possible motive,” muttered Victor. “The hunters were nothing if not zealous until their most recent leader took charge. This sudden shift back to their old behavior makes me think that either he's been killed. Old age isn't really a factor for them.”
“Would they do that to their own leader?” Foster asked in disbelief.
“Hunters are capable of anything,” said Hunter, his voice an urgent hiss that made Foster and Clara jolt. He collected himself, but the facade was growing thinner with each passing moment. “We have to wipe them out.”
“I'm inclined to agree with you,” said Victor. “But it would take far more than our small pack to do it. In order to rally the kind of support we'd need to go up against the hunters, Ulric's connections would be essential. He should be leaving soon, and I'll make sure you get an audience with him.”
So that was it. Hunter was here to sound the drums of war. It was understandable enough considering what he'd just been through, but the idea of the pack members who had become the closest thing to family I'd ever known putting their lives on the line against such vicious creatures was too much to handle, even in my current state.
“Ulric won't agree to this,” I said suddenly. I hadn't known my father for very long, but well enough to know that my wolf side had inherited its morality from him.
Hunter frowned. “They want to wipe out every wolf pack, and it might be starting in the Northwest, but it won't end there. My entire life, all I've heard about from my family is what a courageous and reasonable wolf Ulric is. No offense, but I'd respect their opinion a hell of a lot more than some vampire being kept as a pet.”
“I'm not a pet,” I snapped. “I'm part of the pack and I know Ulric better than you do. He would never agree to this.”
“He will as soon as he finds out a hunter has been stalking his son,” Sebastian said. Everyone looked at him in shock except for Victor, who was glaring furiously at his brother.
“Sebastian,” he said in warning.
“His son? Ulric doesn't have a son,” said Clara, turning to Victor. “Does he?”
Victor's silence spoke volumes.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Who?”
More silence. I looked away and focused on imagining how wonderful it would feel to throttle Sebastian.
“Remus,” Clara said in realization. “Of course.” She and Foster stared at me like I'd just pulled a rabbit out of a hat.
“And when was he planning on sharing this bit of information with his pack?” she demanded. “We're a family. I'm his niece for God's sake! You can't just keep this kind of thing from people.”
“I'm sorry. I don't think it was meant to be a secret, it just didn't come up,” I said sincerely. “We've hardly spoken more than a few words to each other since I found out.”
“It's not you I blame,” Clara said, her tone softening. She seemed to remember Hunter and sighed. “I'm sorry, none of this concerns you.”
“It's fine,” he said, watc
hing me. “I'm an alpha's kid, too, so I understand the secrecy. Can't say I've ever heard of one having a vampire for a son.”
“In Ulric's defense there probably isn't a way to announce who I am without causing him shame,” I mumbled.
“He's not ashamed of you,” Victor said, rubbing my shoulder. “Hunter, I'm sure you of all people can understand why we would appreciate your discretion in this matter. Even within these walls.”
“Oh, sure,” he said, draping his arm over the back of his chair with a subtle smirk. “Relax, I'm not interested in stirring up any shit. An audience with Ulric is all I want. That and the chance to talk to you,” he said, pointing lazily at me.
“Me?” I asked warily. “Why?”
“Rumor has it you were friends with one of the hunters,” he replied, pulling a small notepad from his jacket as well as a yellow pencil full of chew marks. He slipped it between his teeth as he flipped through the papers. “Your mate said it'd be okay to get some info.”
I glanced at Victor. His nod reassured me. “I think that's a conversation that would be best left to the three of us,” he said, looking at Clara, Foster and Sebastian respectively. “No need to keep you all any longer.”
Clara sighed and rose to walk towards the door, pausing at Hunter's chair. “I'm so sorry for everything,” she said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “If you need anything, you can find me in the infirmary downstairs.”
He gave her a smile that didn't meet his eyes. “Thanks.” Foster and Sebastian offered him their muttered condolences too before leaving the three of us alone.
Hunter's demeanor shifted entirely once they were gone. His keen eyes were fixed on me, taking in everything. “What's his name?”
“The hunter?” I asked, taken by surprise at the sudden change in energy. “Prentice, but I'm not even sure that's what he --”
“Victor said you met him at the university, is that right?” He glanced at the notepad as if verifying something. “Eastern Washington University?”
“Yes,” I replied, unable to escape the feeling that I was being interrogated. If Victor trusted him, I decided to at least try. “He was my abnormal psychology professor and he hired me to be his teaching assistant not long after I transferred.”
“Kind of weird, don'tcha think?” he asked, chewing on the mangled end of the pencil. “He just hired you without any previous working relationship?”
“Well, he knew I had experience in the class,” I said, caught off guard. “He said he remembered me from an academic conference I presented at in my second year.”
A hint of a smirk tugged slightly at the corner of his lip. “Must have been one hell of a paper.”
My face grew warm. “Well, no, but --”
“I'm sorry, Remus. I'm sure you're brilliant and all—most vamps are—but you got played. There's no such thing as a coincidence when it comes to hunters.”
“So what, you think he was stalking me?” I asked. “I lived in Texas before that. Why would he even bother?”
“That's what I'm trying to figure out,” he said, tapping the eraser against his lip while he thought. “So you were human when you met him, right?”
“Very,” I said. “Or at least, I thought I was.”
“But you're half vampire and half werewolf, right? When did that start to manifest?”
I glanced at Victor, knowing that the truth would ferret out a lot of sensitive information he might not want to be shared.
“Be candid with him,” Victor murmured. “If there was a hornet's nest of hunters living within a throwing distance of our pack and we didn't notice, it's the least we can do.”
“Okay. I only started awakening as a werewolf when Sebastian marked me,” I said, watching his eyes grow wide.
“Sebastian as in your brother, Sebastian?” he asked, looking at Victor.
Victor's eye twitched. “One and the same.”
Hunter's brow lifted as and scribbled something else in his notebook. “Alright, then. And the vampire half...?”
“I don't know,” I admitted. “It was subtler. I guess it started when Ulric began giving me werewolf blood to help with another...problem.”
“Whose blood?”
I hesitated again. “Victor's.”
“Huh. Did the changes accelerate after that?” he asked curiously, glancing at Victor.
I had no idea how he was able to act with such deep interest in something like this after the majority of his pack was murdered. Maybe it just helped him feel like he was doing something instead of standing by helplessly. That I could understand. “I'm talking about thirst, sensitivity to the sunlight, emotionlessness, that kind of thing.”
“Looking back I started to get thirsty, yeah. I just didn't recognize it for what it was at the time,” I said. “I was having really bad migraines, and light definitely made them worse, but I didn't grow fangs or really start needing human blood until I --”
“Until you killed someone?” he asked casually, smiling a little at my look of shock. “That's usually the best way to trigger the full transformation once it's already started. Vampires go through a transformation too, you know. It's just subtler than ours.”
“How do you know all this?”
He shrugged. “I'm something of a supernatural enthusiast. Victor told you I'm a tracker, which is only partly true.”
“You're a hunter, too,” I said, almost whispering.
He grinned. “Not like them, more along the lines of what Sebastian does, but yeah. I wasn't born into it, but I track down the other supernaturals in our territory and, if they're a threat, I put them down.”
“Vampires included.”
“Vampires mostly,” he admitted. “But not if they're just passing through. I'm not cruel. Honestly, it started out as fascination with the creatures I was reading about in our library. The first time I actually killed one it was in self-defense.”
“Please don't take offense to this, but how are you a vampire hunter? You're not as, um, robust as the other wolves I've seen,” I said carefully.
He laughed. “Please don't take offense to this, but vampires aren't that hard to kill. It's the feral wolves that give me a run for my money. I might be small, but I'm fast, good with weapons and I don't do reckless shit. Plus my beastform is pretty bad ass. They reflect our spirits, y'know, not just our bodies.”
Victor shifted uncomfortably. “Hunter is more than capable of holding his own against a variety of supernaturals. The hunters present a challenge for even the strongest among us.”
“It sounds like your pack was a lot more prepared for this than ours is,” I said, unable to hide my concern.
He shook his head. “No, the truce made us complacent, too. My grandfather warned us never to let our guard down and my father ignored him. My grandfather taught me to always keep an eye on the enemy no matter how quiet he gets, but it wasn't enough. No matter how prepared we are, no single pack is strong enough to stop them.”
He looked up at me pointedly. “I'm sure it sounds like I'm trying to start a war, but that's the problem. The war has already begun. If we don't band together, it's just going to be a slaughter. They'll pick us all off, one pack at a time.”
“I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions,” I said sincerely. “But if the hunters are half as bad as that legend made them sound, I don't think uniting all the wolf packs in the country is going to be enough to stop them.”
“Not just the wolves,” he said, glancing at Victor. “You saw what happened to my pack. You saw how they killed. If we have a chance at stopping this before it turns into full-scale war, we're going to need the vampires, too.”
“Vampires?” I interrupted. “Wolves and vampires hate each other, even I know that.”
He shrugged. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Wolves and vampires were allies once, supposedly. Whether the legend is bullshit or not, we all belong to this 'kingdom of night' in the hunters' book, which makes us all equal targets. If the hunters are attacking werewolve
s again, I guarantee you they've gone after the vampires, too.”
“Besides,” he continued in a jesting tone. “If you two can put your differences aside long enough to knock boots, I don't think a temporary alliance to take out a common threat is out of the picture.”
My face grew warm and Victor rolled his eyes. “You give a rallying speech, I'll give you that. I can't say that Ulric will feel the same way, but he'll certainly respect your initiative.”
“If he doesn't, I'll just go to the next pack,” he said, shrugging.
“And if that doesn't work?” asked Victor.
“Then I'll go to the vampires myself.”
“Does your father have any idea why you really came here, Hunter?” Victor's tone was only slightly condescending.
“If I know my father, he's in a codeine- and brandy-induced haze as we speak,” Hunter said darkly. “I may never be the alpha, but right now, I'm the only one capable of avenging my pack.”
“Why can't you become the alpha?” I asked, frowning. “You're second in command and you're his son.”
Hunter leaned back and took another sip of his bourbon. He got a distant look in his eyes and seemed to be deciding how he wanted to answer my question, if at all. “I'm not his son, not in his eyes. To him I'm still just Heather and my deadbeat fiance is the only true successor in his mind.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in. “Oh,” I said when I suddenly understood. “The letter, you're --”
“I was born female, yeah. Not a point for all the all-knowing Creator tripe in my book,” he said dryly.
“Surely your father can't be that narrow minded,” I said, frowning. “I mean, you're people who turn into wolves. Being a guy born in a female body can't be that much of a stretch.”
“Preaching to the choir,” he said with a chuckle. “My beastform is male, but even that's not enough to convince him that it's not just a phase. Apparently the hunters are of a similar mindset.”
“How did they get your birth name?” I asked, trying not to sound as concerned as I was about what his answer would be.
“The same way they found you at that conference and probably a lot sooner,” he replied. “The hunters are a small handful of inbred families who have managed to forge some heavy connections around the entire continent, but their base is here. I'm thinking it's no accident the first hybrid anyone has heard of in ages was drawn to go to school here from Texas.”
