HUNTERSThe Pierre Hotel, New York
Scout left the taxi followed by Quinn and Tom. They stood in front of the private entrance to The Pierre’s penthouse.
“Ladies, it was great to meet you,” Tom said, shooting a wide smile at Quinn.
Scout noticed that the boy’s teeth were unusually white. She wondered if he’d washed them with light-absorbing particles. How odd. Her stomach was still growling; she hadn’t had proper food since they had arrived in New York. Everything in human land tasted like old rotten food and metal. She turned to face the park and began walking in its direction.
“Where you going?” Quinn asked.
“Hunting.”
“Good plan, I’m starving.”
“Hunting?” Tom followed the girls; his pitch escalated as they approach the park. “Let’s go back. This place is dangerous at night.”
“We’l
