The Blood Moons

Chapter Four.Two

Bug sat up from her place beside the smoldering fire. She stretched beneath her thin blanket to see that she was alone. Patting her mused hair absently, she glanced around her.

“Cyla?” she called softly. When there was no answer, she stood. She was about to use her speed to race around the empty spot she and Cyla had stayed the night in, when a sound stopped her. It was the soft panting of a human. She turned to the trees it was coming from and with silent yet lightning speed, she found herself among the shade of the trees, spying out from the shadows.

Cyla stood in the center of the small clearing. Dressed down to a pair of skin-tight black pants and a simple black band around her breasts. Sweat dotted her exposed tanned skin, her legs planted in a wide stance and arms shoulder high. They were bent, holding a sword poised to strike ahead. Though she stood still, her whole body vibrated with stored energy. Amber eyes stared with laser focus on nothing. Her chest rose and fell with quick shallow pants, never disturbing her stance. Bug was about to call out when Cyla began moving again.

She took a step forward, swinging the sword down across her body. The air whistled sharply as she swung it back up and then across again. She quick-stepped forward, jabbing sharply with one hand, while her other hand stuck out behind her. Bug was surprised to see the dagger she had always kept on her thigh firmly in her spare hand. She hadn’t even seen the movement, and she was a vampire with enhanced senses. Cyla hissed a sharp breath in as she stepped her feet together, sword hilt pressed to her chest while still aimed forward and the dagger laying across the blade. She paused a few breaths before hissing another breath and suddenly broke into a spinning attack, pressing forward with sword and dagger angled out like a windmill. She pushed off with her one foot that was on the ground, doing two full rotations. Bug was again surprised by Cyla’s skill as she landed lightly on a bent knee, the blades never stopping their spin alongside her body.

The dagger suddenly was replaced in its sheath and Bug thought Cyla to be done with whatever she was doing. But Cyla continued on, standing and weaving the blade back and forth. The light danced in bursts off the metal, the wind whistling and hissing. Beams crossed Cyla’s face, angling her nose and cheekbones and setting her hair ablaze. A slight breeze flitted across the leaves, the faint rustling mingling with the swordplay. Bug realized it was almost like a dance. The elements had created a song and the bounty hunter was dancing to it, getting faster, stronger, just by giving in.

Just as quickly as it had started, it ended. Cyla was once again on bended knee, the point of her sword plunged deep into the ground. Slender hands trembled around the hilt. Her head was bowed as she panted softly. A few amber curls escaped the band attempting to hold them back. They stuck to her forehead and neck, the sweat now a thin coat. Cyla’s eyes were closed but Bug was sure she could hear her as she stepped out of the tree line, making sure she was at human speed.

Cyla continued to breathe with her eyes closed. It was only a moment before she stopped trembling. Bug stopped a step away, head c****d as she considered the woman. “Are you just going to stand there staring?” Cyla’s thick voice caught the vampire off guard. She still hadn’t opened her eyes, but Bug wasn’t surprised that Cyla had sensed her. Bug cleared her throat awkwardly, causing Cyla to finally look at her.

“Wha-what were you doing?” Bug asked curiously, fingers twirling in the skirt of her dress. Cyla wordlessly stood and wiped the sword down with a cloth before sheathing it.

“It’s a ritual they taught me while I was training,” she said stiffly. “Keeps me fit and in-tune with my weapons.” She looked over her shoulder at Bug standing there. “It’s not usually something shared outside the guild.” Bug chewed her cheek sheepishly. Cyla regarded her for a moment, hand on sword, before smiling cheekily. “But I don’t mind.” Bug grinned, closing the distance between them.

“Well, it was beautiful to watch,” she said softly, gently placing a hand on Cyla’s arm and the other hand running a trail down the spine of her bare back. “You were so strong and graceful and splendid.” Her voice was barely a whisper, lips brushing Cyla’s ear. Cyla knew what she was doing, seduction was a base nature of a vampire. Still, she wasn’t interested in entertaining the vampire’s whims.

“I’m going to go clean up and then we can eat something and be on our way,” she said, stepping out of Bug’s hands. Gathering her sword and tunic, she walked back the way she came. Bug knew she should be ashamed, but she just couldn’t make herself feel that way. It was just too deliciously fun to play with her.

Cyla was sitting on a stump beside a low fire, sliding her tunic over her head. As she bent down to brush her boots of the dirt that would be back any second, Bug crouched across from her. “So where to?” She asked, eying the red-haired woman. Cyla was silent a moment more before sighing helplessly.

“I don’t rightly know,” she finally admitted. “For years I went wherever the orders took me. I didn’t really have a plan. This doesn’t seem to be any different. We don’t have anything but rumors to go on and none of them even have a concrete place to look.”

“Why is it so important that you find him?” Bug asked innocently, chewing on a chunk of bread.

Cyla mulled over the question for a moment. Did she trust the vampire enough to tell her? She thought back to the weeks they’d been traveling, all the times that Bug had nearly broken some man’s arm because he got too close to her. Even if she could easily take care of herself, the vampire seemed to have quickly grown so attached to the woman that she was protective of her. Didn’t she owe the girl the same trust in turn?

Bug sighed, thinking she wasn’t going to get any answer when Cyla finally spoke. “Ten years ago, my village was attacked. It wasn’t merely attacked, it was ransacked. Everyone there was killed. Even my father, Mika. I only survived because he hid me beneath our house in a trap door that I never even knew existed.” Bug gasped, instantly feeling guilty for having brought up such a painful memory. “Just before he hid me away, he told me I needed to find Dinasis Denor. That this man would have some answers for me. Answers to what, I’m still not sure. But it ended up being his dying wish. So, I had to do it.

“I looked everywhere. But no matter how hard I looked or how far I went, I couldn’t find him. So, I started to fixate on the things that had killed my village. At that time, supernaturals were still stories for me. But, having seen the bodies myself, I knew there had to be more. So, I went to the Blood Moons guild. I figured, since they were the protectors of Vera, they would have answers. And they did. They made me a deal, if I worked for them, I would get all the answers I was looking for. So, I did. I entered the guild that day.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bug stiffen, but she decided to push forward anyways.

“Upon taking my oath, they told me about the supernaturals; that every bedtime story was real. Witches, shifters, vampires, all of them existed on this land. And it was now my job to capture them for the safety of everyone. The day my training was done, I was handed the contract for Dinasis Denor. I’ve kept it ever since, watching for him during every contract I fulfilled, every super or criminal I found. One way or another, I promise I’m going find him. I owe it to my father to do that.” Bug contemplated Cyla’s story before she bit her bottom lip.

“I,” she started before pausing again. A heavy sigh later and she started once more. “I know where he was last seen.” Cyla raised a brow as she regarded the vampire. Before she could question further, a tendril of red smoke poked out from the top of her pack, interrupting them. Bug gave her an incredulous look as Cyla frustratedly unclasped the top of the bag and pulled out a folded piece of parchment.

Running her silver-crossed fingers slowly down the edges, she hesitated to open it. “I-I have a weird feeling about this,” she grunted.

“What do you mean?” Bug asked.

“Something is telling me I’m going to find something I don’t like.” She took a deep breath, pushing it forcefully out of her mouth. “No point in delaying.”

Unfolding it, she took her time in reading.

“Is that a contract?” Bug asked quietly, fascinated and nauseated at the same time. Cyla nodded silently, passing the contract over to Bug’s outstretched hand. Bug smoothed it slightly before reading it. Scrawled across the top in elegant script was the name Luka Pela. Below was his description: six foot seven inches; black hair; blue eyes; wolf-shifter; last seen around the area of Hollow. “How did it get here?” she murmured.

“The guild covers them in magic. They start with one bounty hunter. It’s tied to their life force. If that hunter is killed, it is magically transported to another. And so on and so forth. A hunter must have just died for it to have appeared in my pack.” Bug nodded slowly, reading the parchment carefully again.

“Luka Pela, huh?” she asked quietly. “I remember him from my days in the Blood Moon dungeon. He's going to be a handful. You sure you want to take him back to them?” Cyla started up, staring at Bug curiously.

“What?” Bug asked harshly, folding the contract and nearly throwing it back to her.

“Yo-you were in the Blood Moon dungeons?” Cyla repeated. “They have dungeons? I mean, of course they have dungeons, where else would they put the contracts? But you were in there already? And you escaped? They can escape?” Bug blinked her eyes in surprise. Did she really not know what her job really was?

“Of course they can escape, Cyla!” Bug exclaimed. Frustrated, she jumped to her feet. “Do you really not know?” At Cyla’s silence she groaned, sounding nearly animal-like. “All these years that you were trained and you did as you were trained, you never knew what you were trained to really do?!”

“What are you talking about?” Cyla growled as Bug poked at her loyalty to the guild.

“I’m talking about supernaturals. I’m talking about the Blood Moons enslaving and experimenting on supernatural beings!” Bug was nearly screaming at this point. Cyla blinked twice in surprise.

“What?” she whispered. Bug sighed heavily before throwing herself back on her log seat.

“The Blood Moons tells everyone that they keep the most dangerous beings imprisoned in their cells. Beings. Not people. Not humans. Beings. Subtly, they were telling everyone about supernaturals. But you, as a servant of theirs, should know what they really do.” Bug paused to compose herself. “They collect supernatural beings, and yes, they imprison them. But then they also use them. For their essence, for experiments, to breed more so they can experiment more. They are monsters! And when one has escaped them or is out in the world, they send one of their bounty hunters—one of you!—to bring them back. Every vampire, every witch, every shifter you have caught and taken back to them was then subjected to a life even worse than death.”

A tear was fighting to free itself from Bug’s eye.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cyla spat angrily. “Those people housed me, fed me, trained me. They gave me a life. And they’re right. Supernaturals are dangerous, they kill people. You kill people! They killed my entire village, including my father! They deserve to live in a cage!” Bug bristled.

“I don’t know?” she hissed. “I don’t know?! I lived it, Cyla! I was there, in that cage! I have been tortured and experimented on! You haven’t. You weren’t there! I may kill, but only despicable people who don’t deserve to live. I’m sorry about your family, I really am. But not every supernatural person is like that. Until you have lived my unnaturally long life, you don’t get to tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about!” With the ringing of her final words still swirling around Cyla, Bug dashed away into the forest.