Whitestripe

Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

Rayne Whitestripe

Millions of people in the state of New York, millions just within this city. People who I couldn’t care less to see or bother to risk my life for. People who don't even know what I am or know that I exist.

I am a nightmare to children, a sick form of entertainment for Hollywood. I am a monster to those who don't believe, to those whose minds are so closed that they can't even think past the skull that encases their brains. I am a monstrosity even to my own people. I am an abnormality of nature, something that really shouldn't exist; I do. I am a walking, breathing, creation of parents who want nothing to do with me because of what I am because of how I was born. Such hypocrites, they can't even face the thing that their careless actions created.

I am a werecat. Scratch that; I am half werecat, and the other half of me is a vampire. How you may ask? Well, my mother was human once upon a time, she met up with my werecat father which by the way, in werecat society is supposed to be forbidden, something about keeping the blood undiluted. My father couldn't keep his d**k in his own pants and impregnated my mother. Though, apparently that’s his stick. He is a huge playboy who has had many children. About seven or so months into her pregnancy, she was turned by a vampire who was "in love with her," who "changed her for love," and all that jazz. So here I am.. All the "human" blood that was in my veins went vampire the moment the blood circulated through my mother’s system. My mother knew what she was doing. She had been obsessed with the supernatural world since she learned of my father’s existence, and she dove deeper into it to the point of no return. She then met up with her lover, the vampire.

Since my mother technically "died," I "died" as well, if you call it dying. Part of me died that night, the human part of me. The vampire blood entered my system and took over the once human part of my genes, and left the werecat untouched. I still have a heartbeat; I don’t need blood to survive, and I am warm.

I guess that’s the good thing about being a werecat, or a were anything. You can't be changed into a vamp. Something in the blood resists the disease, and the blood just passes through the body. Unfortunately, since I wasn't completely a were creature, my blood was partially changed. My mother had a C-section after she was transformed, and there I was born. She kept me around for about 50 or so years until she became tired of having me "holding her down," as she said, and tried to send me to live with my father. He didn't know I was half-vampire; he didn't even know my mother had changed. He took one whiff of me and sent me running for the hills. With various bruises, broken bones, and other injuries. Such fatherly love... Were's age different from normal humans, on top of the "un-aging" vampire genes. I had the physical body of a human five-year-old when this happened. My father had nothing to do with me, and my mom sent me away.

I lived off the streets for a few decades until I was discovered for my uniqueness. I can shadow step, I can sense auras, sense if others are near, and I can shapeshift. These are my main "gifts," or I, on occasion, consider a curse. I can do a few others as well. My beautiful tiger form is the one thing that keeps me sane...er. Knowing that I can shift into such a majestic animal who can rip someone's throat out in two seconds is the only gift I find in this mess. I was discovered when I was about 100 years old or in human years I was about 10, by an inhuman organization that pulls non-humans off of the street and helps them conform to human society. So, we can live side by side with humans without them ever knowing that their best friends or their roommates are inhuman monsters they pay money to see in movie theaters. Some of us have normal jobs and live the rest of our lives like "normal" humans.

Sadly, I am about as normal as a pink panther, so I was sought out rather.. quickly once discovered... There has never in my knowledge ever been a were-vampire, and I have been around for a while. I have never run across one or read in the thousands of books that were shoved under my nose at a young age; that there is another like me. I am alone in this world. Since there are such limited instances of were vamp's (or none to my knowledge other than me), the elders of Shadow thought it would be great to see what my abilities could withstand.

Since then, I’ve been employed to protect humans from all non-human criminals. I have worked my way through the ranks from administrative and field crew to what I am currently; field hunter, also known as enforcement. I am the police officer of Shadow, the paid legal assassin. I go throughout the cities and hunt down the criminals who threaten our existence. I get my assignments, my location, and my vehicles all within short notice and am in flight to the next point within hours. If all is quiet, then I go home. I live in Alaska; to be exact, I live near the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, south of the permafrost zone, but close enough that I am not near any part of civilization. I have a log cabin in the forest, on the side of a mountain near the Canadian border. No one has ever "accidentally" stumbled upon my cabin. If they have; I haven't smelled them. I live miles and miles past all the scenic enjoyments of the human population, past the scenery that brings humans to my forest. It has frigid long winters, so rarely do humans come into my forest anyway.

I was sent here to New York City eight days ago to hunt and kill a vampire who keeps creating minions, and I’m not talking about the little annoying yellow guys. An act which among itself is not illegal, however, when you just leave the minions to fend for themselves and terrorize a city that becomes an issue. So far, since I have been here, I have run across 2 vampire fledglings. Both of which were in two different parts of town and didn't know that one another existed or who created them. They were changed against their will, which is illegal. This also means that the vampire in charge of creating these two had nothing to do with them once he or she created them. The things were thrown to the curb to fend for themselves.. The two vampires who I have stumbled across were no issue for me. They hadn't killed anyone yet, so I was able to send them along their way to Shadow for them to be familiarized with the ways of the world. If they hadn’t killed and hadn’t threatened or exposed our secret, Shadow would rehabilitate them and then release them. If they have, however, it changes them, and most people can recognize it, even if you don't have supernatural powers. Someone who has killed innocents or out of malice or greed carries an aura that makes “humans” or better “prey” have that feeling that they don’t belong. Have you ever known someone or seen someone who just gives you the creeps without real reason that you can tell? Most likely, that person is supernatural and has killed before. To the supernatural like myself, it comes across differently. You carry an aura, it’s hard to describe exactly. It’s not something that you can “see” per se. It's more like something that you can feel. Something that just doesn’t feel right to your senses. It makes you get that “flight or fight” response. If they’ve killed a lot, then it sends your subconscious into chaos, and if you’re untrained, you most likely will end up either dead or running for the hills. I have a similar aura about me due to the years I've had to put those individuals down or defend myself when they come after me. I, however, have not killed innocents or any humans at all. So, while a vampire or shifter would pee themselves in my presence if I left my aura unchecked, humans are unaware. One talent I have is that I am able to hide my aura. It makes it hard to chase down supernaturals if they knew you were coming.

After following another scent of a new fledgling for about 4 hours, I was about to give up for the evening. That was until I came across my first dead body. I haven't seen a corpse in quite a while. Female, mid 20's short brown hair, pale skin, heavyset figure; drugs, and a lot of them reeked on her body. She was either a dealer or she was addicted to multiple. Hopefully, she had no family looking for her.

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed H.Q. "Roberts." The overnight specialist who answered was an attractive were. Kaden Roberts was built like his breed, strong sculpted shoulders, long thick black hair, eyes, and skin just as dark. This man was every woman’s dream, including mine. He was 6'9" broad chest, ripped abs underneath that tight white shirt he always wore when I was in the administrative office. Every ounce of his well-sculpted muscular body screamed work horse; he was a horse shifter. Unfortunately, he was off-limits, strict rules of Shadow. Those employed under Shadow could not fraternize with one another. If one of the specialists came up pregnant or known to cause a pregnancy, they would be stripped of their job, their rank, and exported into South America without any way of returning. There were very few exceptions to this rule, but basically, it just meant that I can’t have fun with my co-workers. That didn't mean that I couldn't fantasize about that hunk of meat once in a while. Aside from the threat of being deported, just the thought of a part tiger/horse vampire? That would be one hell of a messed-up child. "I have a mid-20's female with dark hair, pale skin, dead off of 2nd street, dropped in an alley, drained." I explained to Roberts as I flipped my phone on Bluetooth so I could search the body more. "Noticeable damage to the right carotid artery. The assailant didn't bother even trying to control this victim. She died in pain if the look in her eyes was anything to go by." I mumbled more to myself than to Roberts. I shook my head and moved down to her pockets. Searching, I found a credit card and some keys. "I have a credit card." I pulled out the card. "Rayne, my favorite feline, slow the hell down! I type faster than most analysts we have, but not as fast as you talk or think." Roberts chuckled. "Sorry, love. I have a credit card I want ran as well when you are done pulling up your geriatric underwear, " I retorted. Roberts snorted quietly into the other line. "Whenever you are ready, give it to me." he purred. "Oh, you couldn't handle what I can give to you. I have a whole list of what I want to do to you the next time I happen to "accidentally" shove you into the broom closet in H.Q.'' I flirted. Roberts straight-up laughed into the receiver. "Beautiful, I would let you do whatever you wanted whenever you wanted, I have told you that a million times, and I can keep up." We joked around like this all the time. It's what keeps you sane at 3 in the morning stalking streets without anyone else to talk to. Sometimes, I would call just to talk to him. Of course, my excuse was I "forgot" the directions or my orders. When we both knew I knew them better than anyone else on the team.