Her Dark Destiny (Hunters of the Dark #1)

by Dave Ferraro

  ***

  Have to find Shanna… Cameron thought as he jogged along the hallway. Have to find the library…

  He rounded a corner and found himself face-to-face with a red-headed man, quite thin with freckles sprayed over the bridge of his nose. “Uh…”

  “Are you a hunter too?” the man asked him eagerly, looking him over. “The girls…the girls let me out of the cage. I think…I think they’re in trouble though. In the library. I can show you the way.”

  Cameron paused to collect himself. “The girls? Shanna? Show me.”

  The man nodded and gestured ahead with one hand, keeping his eyes on Cameron all the while.

  Cameron smiled and began to walk with the man, but quickly yanked a sai out from his belt, of which he slammed the brunt end into the side of the man’s freckled head.

  “Hey!” the man cried as he slammed into the wall, suddenly melting and reforming as a giant red grizzly bear.

  “I’m not stupid,” Cameron snapped, spinning the sai expertly before him. The red bear drew up to its full height and let out a siren of a roar, sending all of the hair on the back of Cameron’s neck to stand on end. “Or I could take that last remark back…”

 

  Chapter Twenty-Six

   

  “Hhhuh,” Shanna gasped as she pulled back from Upir, the mora that Natalia had fought previously in the junkyard. She glanced down at her arm quickly, not daring to take her eyes off of her opponent for more than a second. Three deep cuts, gashes made from the creature’s long, grotesque nails. The middle cut, at least, would need stitches, although the other two were bleeding smartly as well.

  The sight of blood seemed to draw the moras’ interest quickly, as well as Damien’s and Noel’s, who looked quickly over at her, a small respite in their own battles.

  “First blood,” the leader of the creatures announced, switching his scythe from one hand to the other, licking her blood off of his fingernails. “It is good. Hunter blood.”

  Shanna glared. If I had my cross-dagger, you would be dust by now, Shanna thought heatedly, tightening her grip on her regular dagger. “Last taste you’ll get,” she quipped, lunging at the creature.

  Upir laughed tauntingly and easily moved out of her reach. “We are strong, hunter. Much stronger than you have known. Even our allies underestimate us.”

  “Big talk,” Shanna muttered, pausing. Maybe she needed to change her strategy. She wasn’t fast enough to move in and hit him, so maybe she could wait for him to make his move. Play the defense. He would be forced to move in close to her and she wouldn’t get as exhausted.

  “We only wish to make more of our own.”

  Shanna smiled. “Yeah, and you just happen to murder innocent pregnant women and hunters to achieve that goal.”

  “Your god has made this biology possible. If we were not meant to be, would we have been able to exist in the first place? No. He desires our presence. We are meant to be here. You must know this. You must follow such logic.”

  “The dodo bird was meant to be here. Its time passed.”

  “Sharp tongue.”

  “I like sharp things.” She waved her dagger as if to accentuate the point. Then she stabbed at the creature, seeming to take it off-guard as she watched the blade close in on its belly.

  It glanced off. The monster’s flesh was thick and hard, seemingly impenetrable.

  Shanna gaped as Upir smiled at her. She looked down at her dagger. The edge was slightly rounded, maybe not sharp enough to pierce his skin, given his speech earlier. Unfortunately, it was all she had left in her arsenal.

  I bet his eyes aren’t so tough, she decided darkly, twirling the dagger menacingly.

  “Yes, I feel your power,” his voice echoed in her head. “It wells from deep slumber.”

  Shanna froze and immediately pictured a brick wall in her mind, as Amelia had taught her, unbreakable and solid. It didn’t hold the mora back, however. He stepped through it as if he were a shadow himself. And then she was beside him, in her own mindscape. He was staring at her.

  “You are powerful,” Upir repeated. “And not just because of your hunter blood. Are you not the woman of the portrait, Diana, going by another name?”

  “No. Not Diana. I am Shanna Hunt. I have nothing to do with her. Our features are a coincidence.”

  “There is no such thing as coincidence. Who are you? What are you doing among the weak, the pathetic?”

  “We are not pathetic,” Shanna insisted fervently. “We are strong. We will triumph over darkness.”

  “With those you deem your friends so quickly? Are you not yourself doubtful of them? Yes. You doubt success with this team.”

  “I do not.”

  Breathing deeply and closing his eyes, Upir smiled. “Cameron. You two are so close already, yet…you find yourself thinking of a vampire’s arms as better protection.”

  “For a moment.”

  “A moment is long enough to seed a potent doubt. You felt defeat at your thoughts. You still feel defeat, you feel vulnerable.”

  “No. Not with friends at my side.”

  “Yes. Even then. You use your human power of self-deception here. But you really wonder beyond your weak will. You wonder how it would feel to have absolute control. No surprises. No vulnerability. No more pain.”

  “Nice try, Vador, but the dark side just isn’t calling me.”

  Upir smiled, baring his gums eerily. He waved his scythe before him and they were suddenly watching events unfold, as if they'd suddenly transported to another room, yet no one noticed their presence. It was the present, quickly becoming past, as Upir held her prisoner in her own mind and forced her to watch. “Bear witness to your failure then.”

  “I won’t hurt you,” the vampire Donna called out in a happy voice. “I swear.” She laughed giddily and turned the corner of the hall, smiling as a head peeked out from behind a door.

  “Crap,” Rachel cried, drawing back quickly. She stumbled to her feet in the darkened room.

  “This is your friend? Cowering in the dark, afraid to fight? This is your champion?” Upir scoffed.

  “Rachel…Rachel is brave. She’s being cautious.”

  “Cautious…yes. But not strong, just…human.”

  Rachel peeked out of another exit from the room, down the perpendicular hall, searching the shadows briskly before launching down the hallway without a look back.

  “I seeeee you,” Donna sang.

  Trying her best to ignore the taunts behind her, Rachel raced to her limit, reaching the end of the hallway in a moment to find a dead end; Shadows stood as sentinels before the staircase, trapping her onto the floor, threatening to attack themselves, if provoked. They were the shadows of the mora, bringing to mind the Arctic cold they could inflict with a touch. Rachel shuddered. There were only a handful of rooms to rush into, but even then, Donna would see her do it, so what would be the point?

  With a wary glance at the staircase behind her, and the safety it promised, Rachel smiled bravely. “Okay. Let’s do this then.”

  Alone as she was, Shanna couldn’t help but imagine Rachel as fairly vulnerable, even though she knew that this was how each of them usually hunted. And she’s a vampire hunter, she told herself. She’s used to this sort of thing. She’s probably building the vampire into overconfidence with the running. But she couldn’t shake her feeling of dread. A group was just an ideal way to hunt. Alone, they had to be resourceful enough to overcome their challenge or…they wouldn’t overcome it.

  Reluctantly, Rachel watched Donna’s slow, suspenseful approach as she pulled a collapsible crossbow out from the back of her dress. She felt better immediately.

  “End of the line, Kiddy,” Donna informed her, savoring the moment. “And hiding behind a weapon, no less. How…typical. Toys, toys. All of you hunters and your medieval toys.”

  Rachel flung out a dagger that had been hidden up her sleeve, missing Donna as she leapt
out of the way like a feral cat, baring fangs that glittered in the blue half-light.

  She laughed. “Oooh. Nice shot.”

  “I’ve done better,” Rachel admitted with a tight smile. “I’ll do better.”

  Donna cocked her head. “Try.”

  “You asked for it.” Rachel smiled and pointed her crossbow straight out at Donna, and pulled the trigger with finality.

  Donna rolled to the side, barely having time to gasp as she realized that three arrows had ejected in varying directions, and one of them had embedded itself in her flesh, into her dead heart and lifeline. A pitiful “ugh” escaped her as she transformed to ash.

  Rachel nodded. “Yeah. Take that.”

  She beamed as she traipsed over the ashes and quickly made her way down the hall, relief washing over her trembling knees.

  Glancing down at her hand, Rachel realized that she still carried the necklace of Celtic knots she’d wound around her knuckles. She smiled distractedly as she retraced her steps back to the library, in hopes of freeing the humans.

  “See? A win for our side,” Shanna boasted smugly. She gazed around the scene with a vague feeling of vertigo, disembodiment, as they drifted along after Rachel like ghosts.

  “It is not done.”

  Shanna watched on.

  “Still out cold, huh?” Rachel murmured as she stopped to peek in on Cheitan. She winced as she noticed that the fire had spread over the room. The nearby curtains were aflame, as were several pieces of furniture. Soon, she imagined, it would spread beyond hope of putting out. But that point was a ways off. The air was becoming thick with smoke and Rachel wondered vaguely whether she ought to move Cheitan. He was a fire demon after all. What sort of a fire demon would die in a fire? “Sorry about that,” she murmured as she leaned over the unconscious demon and peered at the wound on his head. It had closed, at least. With a gentle touch, Rachel caressed the sore before dropping her hand and turning away. “Have a nice life, Cheitan.”

  “Meat,” a voice proclaimed, pouncing upon her in a blur amid shadows.

  Suddenly on the floor beside Cheitan, Rachel gathered herself to her feet and glared at the mora watching intently from the shadows.

  “Meat, all alone,” it hissed.

  Rachel smiled and kicked off her shoes, grabbing one in hand, “But not defenseless.” She touched the diamond-studded heel, recalling Upir’s admission that hard, sharp objects like diamonds and glass could cut its flesh. And who said expensive taste was a bad thing?

  The mora cackled and launched itself at her, faster than Rachel remembered them moving.

  She dodged the attack, barely, and managed to strike the monster with the high heel of her shoe as it passed, where she pierced its thick hide. The shoe stuck, embedded. “Yep. Diamonds, still a girl’s best friend.”

  The mora reacted immediately, letting out a loud bellow, focusing on trying to dislodge the shoe in its back.

  Quickly, Rachel swung her other shoe at the creature, who caught her hand easily. She swatted the creature with her free hand as it reached around and fumbled for the shoe embedded in its back.

  “You make me angry, Girl,” it glowered, managing to keep a relatively firm grip on Rachel, despite its obvious pain.

  Suddenly in a panic, she realized she had no one to help her if she didn’t get out of this situation herself. She quickly reached for the shoe in the mora’s back herself, able to locate it blindly before the mora did, driving it deeper into its backside, deep enough to finally warrant the creature’s dropping her arm.

  Very quickly, however, it dislodged the shoe from its back and stared at Rachel, fury burning in its malicious eyes. “You will pay for that, Girl. First you, then your little fire friend. I will eat your flesh while you still live.”

  “You and what teeth?” Rachel taunted, backing away quickly, nearly tripping as she trekked over Cheitan’s unconscious form. She turned to take off at a run and find a new weapon, but she fumbled at the hole Cheitan’s blood had made earlier. The mora seized the opportunity to grab her by the sleeve of her dress.

  Its nail-less fingers were nevertheless enough to pierce her flesh, drawing blood, as it smiled cruelly. “It ends.”

  Rachel gritted her teeth and hit it futily with her free hand, dropping the necklace of Celtic knots she held onto in the process.

  The mora stopped then, dead in its tracks as it looked at the necklace at her feet. It looked up at Rachel with wide eyes, then returned its gaze to the necklace. “One, two, three, four...” It let go of Rachel and dropped to the floor, running the necklace through its hand like a rosary.

  Rachel watched the scene unfold with awe. It was counting the…knots? Why was it…Rachel couldn’t even finish her thought. It was humiliating for the creature. But it did give her the time she needed, as much of a cheat as it felt like.

  She tore her eyes away from the scene before her and retrieved her shoe from the floor, mora blood just starting to dry upon it. She held it up before her eyes and gazed down at the creature. It was too easy. She almost felt guilty as she collected a wooden arrow from her thigh sheath.

  “So many,” the mora cried suddenly. “And it’s so dark. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen...”

  “Pathetic,” Shanna surmised, looking at Upir. “You’re pathetic. How can you even say the things you’ve said to me with this weighing over you?”

  “It is a clause that will be broken, hunter. Your friend has won by dumb luck alone. The others won’t be so fortunate.”

  Shanna set her jaw and turned to the vision as a new spark of hope settled into her eyes.

  Rachel held her shoe over the mora’s back, where its heart ought to be, and closed her eyes, expecting an ear-splitting scream.

  The scene shifted.

 

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

   

  “What, no sweet-nothings to whisper in my ear?” Lupe demanded, circling Natalia. “No kiss hello?”

  “Not still mad about Hawaii, I hope? A grudge seems so beneath you somehow.” Natalia paused, a light smile playing over her lips. “I bet Griffin wouldn’t hold a grudge against you.”

  “Ah. And here we have emotions coming into play,” Upir sighed. How… human.”

  “Both of them are talking about the past, not just the human,” Shanna corrected, glancing from him back to the scene.

  “I hate you,” Lupe spat. “I’m going to tear out your tongue, you deceitful-”

  Natalia struck her with a fist to the nose.

  Blood flowed freely down Lupe’s muzzle. Lupe narrowed her eyes. “You ruined my life, you reprehensible cunt.”

  “And you tried to kill me,” Natalia reminded her. “Seems fair, somehow.”

  Lupe placed a high kick, but missed Natalia by a mile. She followed this with several punches that only caught air.

  “You’re embarrassing yourself,” Natalia informed her. “Why not leave with your tail between your legs?”

  Lupe kicked at her again.

  Natalia smiled, as if highly entertained by the fight.

  “Don’t you dare laugh at me,” Lupe shrieked, swinging at the hunter once more.

  Smirking, Natalia moved out of the way. She cocked her head. “You should be thanking me, anyway. I gave you the answer to your question. I helped you rid yourself of your flaw.”

  “That was my decision to make!” Lupe cried. “Mine and mine alone!” She lunged at Natalia with a guttural groan that seemed to come from deep in her stomach.

  Natalia sighed and danced out of the way, elbowing her in the back as she passed by her. Lupe fell to the floor, out of breath and furious, glaring daggers at her adversary.

  “Well, it was a delight seeing you again,” Natalia told the loup-garous, kicking her in the face, sending her reeling. “Abientot.” She grabbed the girl by her hair, yanking her head up, and wrapped her arm over her neck, cutting off her air. The loup-garous barely fought her fate, merely twitching unti
l she fell unconscious, her breathing slightly raspy, but already clearing. Then she turned to the curtain where Becca had met with the shadow creature, the monster that drew heat from its victims, in place of blood as its masters did.

  They were no longer in the corner, however. The door to the adjoining room was ajar. A small room, probably a room filled with files and supplies.

  Natalia looked back at Lupe sprawled over the carpet, like a collapsed drunk, already reverted back to her beautiful, human guise. She cocked her head at the loup-garous’ parted mouth and fluttering eyes, then she turned away from the creature, just as Lupe had turned away from her humanity long ago. She hoped this encounter would be their last. If not, she would most likely kill the woman once and for all next time. It would be a mercy.

  Walking over to the adjoining room confidently, Natalia allowed no fear to show whatsoever. She had already mulled over the possibilities and was pleased with her resulting solution to eradicating the creature. Lupe, as small of a challenge as she’d been, was easily more frightening than what was in the other room. It was merely a matter of taking the facts of the folklore vampire into account, the vampire of mythology. These creatures seemed to boast their traits and would undoubtedly be at the mercy of their tropes, which begged the question of whether the mora had appeared in the past, whether this “accident” hadn’t occurred once before. Perhaps it was even instigated this time around, Natalia mused.

  A small naked bulb illuminated the room, a mess of papers and files. When Natalia entered, she immediately felt, rather than saw, the corner where Becca sat crouched, arms over her knees, trembling before the shadow creature. The cold air seemed to roll lazily from their direction like a fog moving in on a winter morning.

  Natalia pulled a coil of thorns out from under her cloak, flinging it over the shadow casually.

  The shadow creature immediately bucked and sighed, but stayed in place, as if scolded into a corner.

  Smiling, Natalia opened the blinds. The thorns would trap the shadow in place. The sun would finish the job. “They used to put thorns in coffins so the corpses’ shrouds would catch, preventing them from climbing out of their graves. I believe I understand our new friends of folklore.” She turned to Becca. “We have been compromised. It would be best if we find the others and leave now.”

  Becca didn’t seem to hear her however. She stared at the shadow with a wild terror in her eyes, as if she couldn’t believe the scene before her. But what made this different than any other monster?

  “Becca?” Natalia prodded. She slowly sauntered over to the hunter and crouched down beside her, gently squeezing her shoulder. “Becca, we need to move.”

  Becca looked up at Natalia, as if seeing her for the first time. She had a faraway look about her, as if she’d just woken from a dream. “Natalia. It’s you.”

  “Yes. The thorns will hold the shadow fast. Vampires are supposedly severely allergic to them. That’s why many cultures stake with wood made of hawthorn as opposed to the preferred ash.” She cocked her head. “Are you able to move?”

  Smiling, Becca looked over at the shadow again, that haunted look reverting to her features. “I’m so cold.”

  “Yes, that will wear off.”

  “No. No, it won’t.”

  Natalia hesitated, looking over at the shadow herself. “Don’t be absurd. Of course it will.”

  “No, I...I’m cold inside. So cold inside. So numb. Too cold.” She hung her head.

  Natalia watched the hunter for a moment. “Let’s go, Becca.”

  Becca suddenly leaned forward and kissed Natalia on the mouth passionately.

  Pulling back quickly and stiffly, Natalia was completely caught off-guard. “Becca, what are you...?”

  Looking desperate, Becca moved in again, but Natalia fended her off easily.

  “So cold,” Becca blurted, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “Make me warm, Natalia. Warm my mouth, my hands, my....”

  Natalia was tempted to do the cliched thing in such a moment - slap the girl back to her senses. She decided to play it cooler. She stood up and turned her back on the girl. “Pull yourself together. We have to go.”

  Becca let out a loud sob, then nodded, wiping at her eyes. She stood up and put her arms around her chest to warm her arms.

  This Natalia gave an impressive performance,” Upir admitted. “She has a comprehensive wisdom more suited to our kind, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Shanna frowned. “No, I wouldn’t.”

  Upir laughed. “Then tell me, why was Becca so…pathetic, as you would put it? Compare the mortals. Becca is inferior. You still see her as valuable?”

  “She is valuable. People have their breaking points, their weaknesses. Just like you do.”

  “Like us?” Upir glanced at her darkly. “Weaknesses, perhaps. But we have consistency. We can handle our places, our minds, without letting emotions guide us to break, without desperately clinging to religion and reward to focus our behavior, ignoring the holes in its logic.”

  Shanna looked away, thinking of Jordan. “They won.”

  “Hmm. Yes, they did.”

  They did win, Shanna thought. So why does it suddenly feel like such a defeat?

 

  Chapter Twenty-Eight