The Hunt

Cheap Motels and Expensive Favors

This motel is crap. Not the worst I had ever stayed at, but nothing to write home about either. The room is dark and there’s mold all around the window. The shower I wouldn’t dare to step into without my slippers on and the mirror above the sink is cracked. A sign asking not to smoke inside ironically has cigarette burns on it. Not to mention the smell. I doubt they ever spent more than a couple of minutes cleaning the place.

But the room is perfect for what I need it to be: the window looks out straight into the only entrance to the motel, it’s on the first floor, and it’s at the very end of the building, which means there’s only one wall to share with someone else. Discrete and practical.

I park my car right in front of my motel room door and immediately get a feeling that something is out of place. It’s weird how only after a couple of months on the road my instincts have sharpened tenfold. It all came so naturally. Like it was somehow always there, but I just never had to reach out to that part of me. I guess being on my own has hardened me.

With a quick glance, I noticed that the curtains were slightly parted. I always leave them completely shut. Panic shoots through my body and I feel my fingers curling around the wheel, squeezing until I see my knuckles turn white. Someone either was or still is in my room, and I’m not sure which possibility scares me more. I can’t linger in the car for too long. If there’s someone waiting for me, they can’t suspect that I have noticed.

I check my knife tucked away safely on my side and grab my bag lying on the passengers’ seat. As I casually swung the bag over my shoulder, I sifted through the contents to find the wooden stake. Hawthorn. I have found out that this one hurts them the most and if there’s someone in my room, more than likely it’s a vampire and one of that bastards’ lackeys. If I’m quick enough, I might be able to wound it instead of killing it right off. And if I do this right, this one might even be more talkative than the ones he had sent previously. There’s only one positive thing I can say about blood suckers and that is that they are loyal till the end. The last one I managed to catch alive didn’t say a word for five hours. Even as I poured boiled monkshood down its throat. It just stared defiantly at me, chocking on his own blood. But this one will talk. I will make sure of it. I have learned a lot of new tricks that I’m looking forward to testing out.

As I walked closer to the door, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the same motorcycle I had seen earlier today. He was following me. Have I not been careful enough? Has he followed me coming into town? I couldn’t have been so sloppy. I never drive directly back to the motel without circling around the block for at least fifteen minutes to make sure that I’m not being followed. Was he not alone?

Focusing on the task at hand, I opened the door and, with one step, entered the room. As soon as the door is closed behind me, an arm wraps tightly around my neck. But I am quicker. He wasn’t expecting my blade coated with monkshood slashing through his bicep. I got him good. I could feel the metal scraping against bone. The wound would heal in a matter of seconds, but the plant is poison to a vampire. He lets out a yelp as the essence of the herb burns into his flesh, slowing healing and magnifying the pain.

“What the hell is wrong with you, girl?” He shouts. “Is this how you treat your employees? This is going to cost you extra!”

“Who are you and what are you doing in my room?”

“Heard you were looking for me,” he shrugs casually.

“Burner?” I whispered in disbelief. “But how are you here so soon?”

“Well, I heard that you were paying well,” he smirks, “and I have been following your process for a couple of weeks now. Must say, very impressive for a little cheerleader, like yourself.”

I crossed the room and switched on the light by the bed, my fingers still tightly holding onto the knife. As I turn around to face him once more, he notices me staring at his arm that is now almost healed.

“Neat trick with the monkshood, but for future reference, if you really want to hurt a werewolf, use silver, honey. The flowers work better on vamps,” he winks at me as he takes his seat in the chair by the door.

“Werewolf?” I muttered under my nose, more to myself than to him.

After what happened to my family, it took me a week to wrap my head around the fact that vampires exist. Now werewolves? Was everything in my fathers’ books and research true? Do witches and warlocks exist as well? Did he know more than he let on to? He would always tell me these stories about creatures from myths and legends. Powerful and wile- unscrupulous beings with no regard for the human race. He would talk about these creatures as if they truly existed. But I always figured it to be professional excitement. He was, after all, a mythology professor at our local university.

“And here I thought you were smart,” he laughs, bringing me back to the present, “did you really think that only one was true and the other-legend? You still have a lot to learn if you’re going after Devland. He will show no mercy just because you are an ignorant child.”

“I'm not looking for life advice,” I snapped back, “do you have any information on him or are you just wasting my time?”

"If you want to know where to find him, I won’t be able to help you. No one knows where he is unless he wants you to know that” he sighs before continuing, “and believe me, I’ve looked everywhere. You’re not the only one who’s after him. He has pissed off a lot of people.”

“Then what worth are you to me? I just wasted a lot of time and money trying to contact you, and you’re useless!” I lashed out. I can feel anger and frustration boiling in me. If I don’t calm down, it will happen again. When the rage takes over, I can’t control myself. That had happened with the first fang I had caught. As I was questioning her about who killed my family, she just laughed in my face and I blacked out in fury. I could only see red. When I snapped out, I was standing over her lifeless body full of stake wounds. A gaping hole where her heart once had been.

“Well I didn’t say I couldn’t help you at all,” his tone neutral, completely ignoring my temper tantrum, maybe somehow realizing that it wouldn’t be healthy for him to mock me any further. “I can bring you to your best chance of ever finding him and seeing him dead. There’s an alpha that is also looking for Devland. His pack is one of the strongest if not the strongest in both Americas. And luckily for you, he has just put out a call to anyone who wants to join in on his hunt for the vampire.”

I look Burner dead in the eye as I hiss through my teeth, “Where do I find him?”

“Not so fast, honey. I’ll have to bring you to him, or his pack will tear you to shreds before you even step foot over the border of their territory. If we leave Orchard in the morning, we should reach Teton by midday.”

“I hope you know that you’re not staying in my room?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, jailbait. But you will be paying for my room as compensation for slashing me with your little toothpick. We will be neighbors.”