The Hunted (6 page)

It felt like he’d cracked one of my ribs.

But, even worse, the bastard had ruined my new coat.

A thick globule of drool landed on my chest and rolled off to one side. The smell of its breath was fetid. Beyond bad; it was all I could do not to bring up what I had for dinner.

In a flash, I drew the blade up and stabbed the wolf’s left flank. Blood spurted from the gash and the Vân
â
tor, howled out in pain, immediately pulling away from me.

I scrambled back to my feet, fighting for breath, crouching down low and ready for the next attack.

The wolf came fast and was on me in moments.

This time I was ready.

I ducked to the side, avoided a swipe of his claws, and dug the blade of my knife swiftly into its other flank. It dragged briefly through furry flesh as I hung onto the hilt tightly. The skin parted in gory detail, spilling intestines, torrents of blood and other body parts that I was not overly familiar with. They slumped onto the concrete with a sickening
slap
, forming a mound of bloodied organs by my feet.

Sick.

He slumped to the ground, another howl erupting from his muzzle, laboured and tainted with pain.

I turned in time to see the second vân
â
tor stalk up behind me from another container. Sensing the two of us were no longer alone reminded me of periphery checks, and it was just as well. He looked down at his badly injured pack mate and then zeroed in on me with his obsidian coloured eyes, howling so loudly that I had to reach up and cover my ears.

Oh yeah, this one was pissed.

I took a few steps back, my heel touching something soft and gooey. I cringed. I didn’t need to look around to realise that I’d stepped in what was left of the patrolman.

I side stepped the body, my eyes quickly flickering to the injured vân
â
tor. He was still slumped on the ground, blood pouring from his wounds. He was incapacitated for the moment.

My gaze immediately darted back to the other one, watching every one of his movements as he started to pace backwards and forwards in front of me, never letting his eyes stray from the blade in my hand.

I felt my confidence grow. My heart was still racing, but not from nerves. Now it was purely from the rush of excitement.

One down, one to go.

I tossed the blade from hand-to-hand, back and forth, showing the beast I was no longer afraid. I even smiled a little, growing cocky.

I swirled the hilt in my palm and—

Dropped it.

As the blade clattered loudly on the concrete, I cringed.

Total amateur.

Wasting no time, the beast leapt directly at me. I dropped to the ground, rolled to the side and scooped the blade back up into my hands.

The Vân
â
tor landed on the ground not more than a couple of metres away and immediately whirled around to charge again. But instead of jumping, he bared his teeth and ran straight for me.

I wildly swept the blade in front of me, backwards and forwards, hoping to at least pierce some flesh so I didn’t have to come up against those sharp teeth.

Faster than death, his muzzle caught my blade-wielding arm in a vice-like grip. I screamed. The pain of his putrid teeth piercing through my flesh was excruciating. I screamed again, swallowing back tears as I pounded my fist against his snout, to no avail.

My tortured gasps of pain echoed through the stillness of the night. I was hoping that my screams would alert the others to my whereabouts. If they weren’t too far away now then at least they could finish what I had started. At the very least clean up what was left of my remains if the vân
â
tor happened to win this tug of war.

The vân
â
tor’s teeth dug deeper into the flesh of my arm. I could feel their pointed lengths grazing against the bone. I could also hear his talons scrambling for purchase on the concrete surface, scratching his way towards more leverage.

I moved with him, not conceding, but moving to abate the pain in my arm and avoid a severed limb. Despite how well I could heal myself, I didn’t know if I could actually grow missing parts back again, and I’d be buggered if I was going to test that theory out tonight.

The vân
â
tor suddenly jerked my arm violently to the side. I was torn between nausea, pain, and disbelief. The double whammy of having more flesh and muscle torn from my appendage had me clenching my teeth and hissing in pain. But when my arm popped free of the socket, and I saw it dangling in his mouth like a bone, I started crying like a baby.

Get it together Elena, or this bastard’s going to have your arm for dessert.

Or bury it in someone’s backyard for later.

Despite the pain, I found enough focus to raise my opposite arm and bring a clenched fist down on the top of his nose. Knuckles and fur connected, and a searing pain shot through my hand and up my entire arm as something went
crack
. More tears rained down my cheeks, but the Vân
â
tor only responded with a grunt. I probably only bruised him, which meant he was seriously kicking my ass.

I wasn’t feeling so cocky now.

He jerked me to the side again, pulling me off my feet and further rending my flesh with his teeth. I’d had enough now.

With that spare hand, already self-healing, I grabbed the knife, ignoring the lingering protests of pain, and slit the wolf’s throat. It was messy, but quick, and ultimately efficient. God only knew how many minutes had passed where I’d been nothing but a chew toy.

The vân
â
tor dropped to the ground, falling in a heap and taking me down with him, the life behind his eyes extinguished.

I dropped the knife all the while keeping an eye on the other wounded wolf. He kept glancing between me, his now dead pack-mate, and the internal organs sprawled out on the concrete beside him. I could almost smell his fear now.

I pried this vân
â
tor’s jaws open and dislodged my badly chewed arm from between his teeth—it was a bloody mess and as limp as a rag doll.

Luckily my vampiric genes had already set to work on repairing the damage. In a few minutes it would be as good as new again, just like my shoulder. I couldn’t say the same thing for my coat though. It was destined for the trash.

I pushed to my feet and collected the knife that was by my side. The silvered blade and leather hilt was smeared in blood.

I felt a rising tidal of self satisfaction wash over me, glancing down at the dead vân
â
tor at my feet and at the other one that was whimpering a few meters away. I revelled in that sound—it feared me now instead of the other way around.

‘Do you want this to be over fast or slow, Vân
â
tor?’ As I said this, I lowered myself carefully down beside it, the blade still held out in front of me—a gleaming tool for justice. It whimpered something unintelligible through its snout and then its head dropped across its front paws in a gesture of defeat. A twinge of sympathy fluttered through me as I looked at the helpless creature in front of me. He looked so … vulnerable.

But the moment was fleeting and I realised that, given the chance, this vile creature would have made the same mess of me as he had made of the night patrolman. Plus, I’d recently watched
Cujo
, and now had a semi-serious loathing for all things canine.

I rolled the knife around in my hand, feeling the hilt flutter warmly against my palm before leaning forward and finishing this vân
â
tor off with a swift slice across the throat.

It was by no means creative, but like before, it was final.

Death always is.

‘That’s a good doggie. Now, stay down.’

I wiped the blade clean against the grey matted fur of its back and then re-sheathed it in my leg holster.

‘Ahem.’

I spun around to see George, Susan and Lucas all staring at me in bewilderment and, dare I say it, anger? ‘Hey guys,’ I said calmly, rising to my feet. ‘What’s up?’

CHAPTER TWO:

OBSTINACY

L
ucas’s lips turned up into an immediate grin. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked to each of his parents waiting, for the outburst that he knew was inevitable.

Susan stared at me in a mixture of horror and awe as she glanced at me, the two dead vân
â
tors and the horrible mess they had made of my coat.

George, on the other hand, seemed less than impressed as he surveyed the scene in front of him. ‘What’s up?’ He echoed my comments, growling as he took another step towards me, his hands balling into fists at his sides. ‘What’s up?’ Veins were popping in his forehead and his cheeks were mottled red with anger. I was definitely going to get it.

I held up my hands in surrender and took a step backwards. Lucas could barely contain his delight at my growing discomfort.

‘What’s up, young lady, is that
you
are in very serious trouble.’

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

Like I don’t already know that.

‘What did I say to you in the car on the way here?’

I crossed my arms in front of my chest, the cold finally reaching out to me and enveloping my body with icy tendrils. ‘You told me to stay behind Lucas and not to wander off.’

His eyes narrowed and his hands uncurled, moving straight to his hips like an angry teapot. ‘And what part of that
didn’t
you understand?’

Apparently all of it.

I shrugged. ‘Sorry.’

His face went red. Susan reached out a hand and touched his arm. ‘Let’s just clean up this mess, George, and sort out what to do with Elena later.’ She turned to me. ‘Are you okay?’

I nodded. My arm and shoulder were already healed, even though my bloody and ripped jacket made it look otherwise.

‘Why don’t you two head back to the car and your father and I will sort out this mess?’

By
sort out this mess
, Susan meant setting all of the bodies on fire and letting them burn until there was nothing left to identify. We couldn’t afford to wait for sunrise to do the job for us. It was too many hours away and fire worked effectively against all members of the undead. I suppose that includes me. Besides, the next patrolman was due to start work within the next few hours and would undoubtedly start searching for his missing colleague. The dead patrolman was likely to be identified through dental records, but it wasn’t
his
remains that needed to be kept hidden from the mortal world.