The Hunted (7 page)

Read The Hunted Online

Authors: Kristy Berridge

Tags: #Fiction, #Horror, #Romance, #General

Humans were certainly not ready to learn about the existence of vampires and werewolves. Hell, I’d almost had a heart attack when they’d first told me what I was and what I would eventually become. I’d spent the better part of the conversation waiting for Ashton to jump out from behind the couch and tell me I’d just been punk’d.

Most humans were happier believing in what they could prove with science, or see and feel for themselves. To humans of the twenty-first century, vampires, werewolves, and magic are simply the fictitious ingredients that create a top-shelf horror film. People would defile their underpants the world over if they ever discovered that these supposed fictional characters were actually real.

George wagged a long, slim finger at me, his face still as red as a beetroot. Susan pulled him away from me, towards the pile of bodies.

‘You are in such big trouble, young lady,’ he spat. I always found it extremely amusing that he thought his theatrics scared me.

Ignoring him, I edged my way around the carcasses and fell into step beside Lucas who was already walking slowly down between the passages of containers from which they had come. I kept my head down and my eyes on the ground, slinking away into the night beside Lucas and wondering what punishment was heading my way. I may not have been afraid of George or Susan, but I was a little concerned about the impending status of my social life.

Goodbye, Saturday night.

‘I mean it, Elena!’ George shouted at my retreating back, his voice an angry torment on the wind. ‘So much trouble.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Yeah, I heard you … so much trouble, I get it.’

‘Are you smart-mouthing me?’ he bellowed as we disappeared from sight, slipping behind another converging passage of shipping containers.

‘No,’ I yelled over my shoulder, and kept walking. ‘Just saying it like it is,’ I muttered. I wasn’t really badass enough to provoke the situation further. As it was, I was fairly certain I was going to be grounded again.

Susan was more easy-going than George. It was probably why I liked her more than I liked him. He was so unfeeling in comparison. Then again, it wasn’t like I was a ray of sunshine either. I’d never particularly warmed to either of them. I cared about them, no doubt, but I never really saw them as parents, unless you could constitute my continual house arrest as a display of loving affection.

Lucas was sniggering beside me.

I slapped him on the shoulder, fuming. My own mouth would get me into enough trouble without him adding his own backhanded comments.

‘You really are in deep shit, Elena,’ he said in between outbursts of disjointed snorts and laughter.

I touched his arm in mock concern and put on my best surprised face. ‘Really? Are you sure? I mean how can you possibly be certain when he only said I was in trouble, what, three times? Do you think I should wait for a fourth before I fall to the floor and pray to the Gods for absolution?’

He sniggered again. ‘Nope, no amount of praying is going to stop you from getting punished this time.’

‘You think?’ I shoved him in the arm again.

‘What were you thinking, going off by yourself, anyway?’ he said, shaking his head. ‘One vân
â
tor is bad enough, but two? That’s suicide, E. How did you manage to fight them both at the same time?’

I smiled, remembering I’d stashed my cell phone nearby. ‘We need to go and get my phone. I left it by one of the containers near the right hand side of the rear passage. That’s how I separated them.’

‘Ah, so that’s why your text said to ring you. Using your mobile as a diversion?’ He sounded impressed. ‘Who was it that said technology equals rubbish?’

I grinned. ‘I believe that was you when some nerd from Nebraska beat you at online Tetris last week.’ He gave me a sour look. ‘That twelve year old shit cheated and you know it.’

‘Sure he did.’ I laughed, nodding and shoving my hands into my pockets to warm them up. ‘You know, I think you’re going to be the only one who thinks what I did tonight was a good thing.’

He let out a long, low whistle and kicked at a stone in front of his feet, but didn’t answer me. I craved his approval in any shape or form. After all, blood or not, he was my older brother.

He kicked another rock. It hit the side of a metal hull with a short, sharp clang before bounding across the passage, settling against another container.

‘I can’t believe you killed two vân
â
tors on your own tonight—without the aid of magic!’ He sighed, enthusiasm dampening a little. ‘Despite the fact that you were pretty stupid to wander off on your own, I do have to admit that it’s pretty cool that you kicked their asses all on your own, not that I’m condoning your actions.’ He fingered the ripped material of my jacket. ‘Good thing you can self-heal, huh?’

I nodded. ‘I’d be in a truck load of pain right now if I couldn’t.’

‘Why did you do it anyway?’

My eyebrow rose slightly. ‘Do what?’

‘Run off on your own. What made you think it was a good idea? You know the IMI trains us to work as a team for a reason and going solo isn’t a part of our charter.’

I shrugged. ‘I didn’t think. No one would listen, so I just followed my nose.’

‘You could smell the vântors?’ he said, touching my arm and drawing me to a halt.

‘No,’ I answered hesitantly, my eyes drifting from the ground to meet his powder blue ones. ‘I could smell the blood.’

‘Ahh,’ he said quietly and started walking again.

I increased pace to catch up with him again. ‘Do you think I should be able to smell vân
â
tors by now? Is that why you asked?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t really know, E. I’ve never met a vampire before either, remember? But from what mum and dad say, most of the vampires that are around these days are the turned ones, not born vampires like you. Turned vampires, as you know, do not have the same strength, speed and self-healing capabilities that a born vampire does. Maybe it is normal for you to be able to scent blood while you’re still human, but not anything else.’

‘Maybe.’

He patted my shoulder. ‘Sure would be interesting to meet someone else like you, wouldn’t it? I mean one that was born and has already turned. At least then we’d have someone to compare you with.’

He shook his head and dropped his arm back to his side. ‘Even if we do have a secure alliance at the moment with the Vampires, I highly doubt they’re going to bother straying this far north. It’s too sunny.’ He kicked another stone again.

‘I’ll probably never meet a vampire unless I decide to leave Cairns,’ he mumbled.

He was right. There were no reported cases at the Institute of Magical Intervention of any vampires coming past the Queensland border, mostly because of the unending days of sunshine and harmful bouts of UV that still penetrated the clouds even on an overcast day. Sunlight still meant death for all vampires, whether born or turned. It was just the exposure that varied the severity. For example, a turned vampire could not tolerate the sun at all, emerging only at night, where as a born vampire could move around in the shadows of the day and remain unharmed.

But one old fallacy that still appeared in the movies as the true death of a vampire, was staking. From what I had learnt, you could only stake a turned one with any degree of success, unless of course the stake was made from silver—then any vampire would die.

I focused back on the conversation and Lucas’s dejected expression. He’d never even seen a vampire before. ‘Well I guess in less than two years you’re going to have your chance at meeting one aren’t you, Lucas?’

He smiled. ‘At least you’ll be on our side.’

I grunted. The Protectors always spoke of sides, even Lucas. It was highly offensive to me that they would expect me to choose. It shouldn’t have to be that way. ‘There’s an alliance, remember? You’re not supposed to take sides.’

‘The alliance is only temporary,’ he reminded me. ‘One day, someone will falter and everything will change.’

I laughed. ‘Yeah, if you can call a three hundred year alliance temporary.’

‘As soon as we find a way to bring down the Vân
â
tors indefinitely, the blood suckers are going down too.’

I went quiet. The alliance between The Vampires and The Protectors had come into effect almost three hundred years ago, yet there was still so much, ahem, bad blood between them. I had a feeling that although I had mostly been accepted into the fold at the IMI, I was still vulnerable to persecution if the alliance faltered.

I may owe the IMI a lot, but I wasn’t quite ready to turn my back on my own heritage, not when I didn’t know enough about them to form a truly decent opinion. What if The Protectors were wrong? What if some vampires were different and not bad at all? Surely the ones that were born had to be given some leeway. After all, they didn’t choose to be a vampire. It was forced upon them, just as it had been onto me. If I was a good person and fought for the value of human life, then surely there could be others out there just like me?

I shook my head. What I think and feel in the grand scheme of things probably didn’t matter all that much, even if it was important to me. To others, my opinion counted for nothing.

 

*          *          *

 

The only reason the Vampires and The Protectors had joined forces in the first place was because the Vân
â
tors had proven to be more of a problem to either side than the other. In fact, they were now ten times more problematic to humans than vampires had ever been.

The Protectors, which were now considered warriors of magical justice for the IMI, decided it would be easier to eradicate one species at a time, starting with the most dangerous one first—the Vân
â
tors.

Between the speed, agility, and deathly talents of a vampire, and the magical powers that The Protectors possessed, the Vân
â
tors were now considered to be an endangered species—if you could count
thousands
as endangered. Unfortunately that theory was proving to be more and more difficult to confirm as time went on. The werewolves were getting better at blending into the general populace.

The Vân
â
tors not only shared the blood lust of the Vampire and some of their skills—speed, agility, and strength—but they also had the power to replicate. The lurid acts were tantamount to rape, a vân
â
tor taking human form to complete the process. As far as we knew, no vân
â
tors were born female, an oddity to be sure.

Vân
â
tors were being detected everywhere now. However, it was rare for them to stray to Australian shores. Packs were already established all over Europe, and our consistent sunny weather afforded the same threat of death as a vampire. But day or night, sun or no sun, the weather or location did not alleviate their mating habits—hence why it was vital to destroy them before they got down to business and infected the world with more of their spawn.

When a vampire is born, it is from the pairing of a male vampire and a human woman. A pregnancy always results from these unions. The seed of the Vampire is very determined. Even the most barren of women would not be able to avoid a vampiric pregnancy.

From this union, a regular human child would grow. The only difference would be that their system would already be laced with vampiric blood—the catalyst for the change that would begin on the day of the child’s eighteenth birthday. They would also be born, like me, with the ability to self-heal, something George believes is an inbuilt survival mechanism designed to keep the species strong.

Just like me, this child grows as a regular human does. It will eat, sleep, breathe, and be otherwise completely undetectable as a vampire among the human populace until the day of turning.

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