His Little Hunter

ALLISON Focus, Allison. I dragged a ragged breath into my lungs and exhaled slowly, praying it would dampen the cacophony assaulting my overly sensitive ears. Breathe in. Breathe out. It didn’t help. Sirens wailed in the distance, a jagged, abrasive sound that felt like a physical needle dragging against my eardrum. In a slum like this, sirens were the background track of existence. Vampires flocked to the dregs of the city like flies to rot, places where their depravity could be masked as just another statistic, another tragedy lost in the grime. The sun had long since bled out of the sky, leaving the district plagued by a suffocating darkness only slightly alleviated by the sickly glow of a half-moon. The streetlights were dead, save for one on the corner that gave a consistent, epileptic flicker. Buzz. Snap. Buzz. The sudden crack of a gunshot made me flinch violently. “Are you okay?” Lacey, our sniper, whispered from my side, the concern evident in her voice. We were both sprawled out on the roof of the old abandoned warehouse with our fronts pressed to the edge of the surprisingly sturdy zinc. Lacey had her rifle settled, the barrel angling slightly to the right, waiting for our targets to step onto the stage. Her blonde hair was scraped back into a severe ballet styled bun, and the black half-face mask she wore concealed everything but her eyes. We’d known each other for years, but those green eyes never failed to stun me. Even in the gloom, they were piercing. A clear, vibrant emerald that could make anyone look twice. Lacey was the kind of beautiful that made men stumble over their own feet. Lethal and breathtaking. “I’m fine,” I lied. The words tasted like ash on my tongue. My eyes swept the alley below, searching the shadows. There was no one there. No shooter. No victim. Yet that gunshot had sounded like it had gone off inside my own skull. If this sensory hell hadn’t been my reality for weeks, I might have thought I was losing my marbles. And at some point, I had. The sirens swelled again, louder this time, vibrating through my teeth. I gritted them together, my hands flying up to clutch my ears. Dammit. A chaotic symphony erupted; voices speaking rapid-fire Spanish, the high-pitched scream of a woman, raucous laughter, the heavy bass of reggaeton, a car door slamming three blocks away. It all hit me at once, a tidal wave of noise threatening to drown me. “You don’t look okay.” Lacey’s voice cut through the static, low and laced with concern. I didn’t miss the worry swimming in her gaze. It was getting bad enough that people were noticing. Get a grip. Now is not the time to fall apart. But I couldn't find the dial to turn the volume down. For weeks, my body had been rebelling. Seemingly overnight, my hearing had sharpened to a terrifying degree, picking up conversations miles away. At first, I’d thought I was losing it, hallucinating things that didn’t exist, but it hadn’t taken long for me to realise the things I heard were real. Distant, but real. And that wasn’t the only change. The treacherous organ in my chest hammered against my ribs with a violence I’d never felt in all my twenty-four years. And the thirst... God, the thirst. A burning, hollow ache in the back of my throat that water couldn't touch. It was a craving for something metallic, something rich and warm. My body was mutating, and deep in the darkest pit of my stomach, I feared I knew exactly why. No one can know. Especially not the Leader. A woman’s giggle suddenly scraped against my hearing, followed by the heavy, rhythmic thud of booted footsteps. “They’re here,” a male voice crackled through the comms in my ear. Lacey and I went rigid. I scanned the alley again and saw them emerge from the shadows. Two large males, clad in black, moving with a predatory fluidity that instantly marked them as other. One wore a long trench coat that moved like liquid around his legs; the other, a sleek leather jacket. Both undoubtedly concealed an arsenal of weapons. The alley was pitch black to human eyes, yet I could make out every detail of their faces as if they were standing under a spotlight. They were devastatingly handsome, abominations always were. I’d always believed their beauty was a cruel evolutionary trap, a lure to draw unsuspecting humans into the dark. These two shared a face. Twins. Both blonde, both possessing dark, soulful eyes. The trench coat brother had cropped hair while the other wore his slicked back in a man bun. Between them stumbled a woman, a drunken mess of exaggerated giggles and stumbling limbs. She swayed carelessly, nearly twisting her ankle on the uneven pavement, kept upright only by the iron grip of the monsters flanking her. I let out a silent sigh. Oh, to be that oblivious. She had no idea she was walking to her own slaughter. Looking at the sloppy smile smeared across her lips, she probably thought she’d hit the jackpot with two handsome strangers. She wore a red skirt that was little more than a belt and a matching crop top that strained against her very generous chest. It was a marvel how her n*****s managed to remain hidden. Kudos to the top! “Easy there,” the vamp with the man bun purred, catching her before she could face-plant. He ran a long finger under her chin, tilting her face up. “We wouldn’t want a pretty thing like you to get hurt.” She bit her lip, smudging her lipstick, gazing up at him with glazed, hungry eyes. I wondered if he was using compulsion; that devious hypnotic ability some of them possessed. “I don’t mind a little pain,” she slurred, pressing her oversized breasts into his chest. “Oh really?” The vamp smirked, a cruel twist of lips. “My brother and I don’t mind dishing out a little pain.” Of course they didn’t. Cruelty was their currency. The brother in the trench coat took that as his cue. He stepped in close behind her, pressing his groin firmly against her backside. The woman was instantly sandwiched between them, trapped in a cage of hard muscle and cold intent. She didn’t look afraid; she looked ecstatic, likely believing the double-entendre promised a night of depraved pleasure. Watching them, the way they loomed over her, possessing her space… a strange, dark heat coiled in my belly. I couldn't help but wonder if the brothers shared their kills like they shared their bedmates. An intrusive, traitorous thought flashed through my mind; What would it be like to be trapped between them? To be ravaged by creatures that didn't know the meaning of fatigue? Vamps were notorious for their stamina. The sudden wet heat that pooled between my legs was mortifying. I sucked in a sharp breath, trying to suffocate the dizzying arousal washing over me. What the hell is wrong with me? Man Bun pressed his mouth to the woman’s, and she let out a needy moan, melting into him. At the same time, Trench Coat dipped his head, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. The sight was... erotic. Visceral. I was watching monsters prepare to feed, and yet my body was reacting as if I were watching a lover’s embrace. “Damn, that’s hot,” Lacey whispered beside me. It irked me that I couldn’t disagree. Man Bun broke the kiss, leaving the woman gasping for air. He trailed his lips down her jawline, stopping just above her collarbone. He kissed the skin there, open-mouthed and wet. Beneath his lips, an artery in her neck pulsed. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. The sound drowned out everything else. The sirens, the wind, the city, it all vanished. My world narrowed down to that one, frantic rhythm. Thump-thump. I gulped, my throat feeling like sandpaper. The thirst roared to life, a beast rattling the bars of its cage. My gums began to ache, a sharp, throbbing pressure. The image of the vamps faded, replaced by a mental image of me pinning the woman against the brick wall. Focus, Allison. I swallowed the flood of saliva in my mouth, gripping the hilt of my blade until my knuckles turned white. Usually, the weapon brought me comfort. Tonight, the cold steel felt like a judgment. Between the feather-light kisses Man Bun placed on her neck, I caught the glint of white fangs extending, skimming over the delicate skin. The flash of bone snapped me back to reality. Prey. They are prey. I am the hunter. “Get ready,” I whispered, my voice rough. Lacey nodded. She settled her eye to the scope, her breathing stopping completely. Her index finger hovered over the trigger. “Aim for the head.” The two vamps moved in unison, sinking their teeth into the woman’s flesh. Her eyes shot wide. A scream tore from her throat. Not of pleasure, but of pure, piercing agony. “Showtime,” the voice in my ear commanded. Bang. The shot was deafening. A wet, crushing sound followed instantly as the high-caliber round obliterated the skull of the vampire with the man bun. He was thrown backward by the force of the impact, his body limp before it even hit the ground. My turn. I released the breath I’d been holding. I unsheathed my sword, the metal singing against the scabbard, and launched myself off the roof. I fell three stories, landing in a crouch with a heavy, dull thump that barely registered in my enhanced knees. Two more thumps landed behind me. “We’ll back you up,” the male voice said through the comms. The sound of guns c*****g filled the alley. My team. Good men. Too bad they wouldn’t get to do much. I wasn’t the sector’s best hunter for nothing. But more than that... I felt a surge of adrenaline that wasn't entirely human. I didn’t spare a second to recover from the jump. I launched myself forward. The remaining brother, Trench Coat, shoved the bleeding woman aside like a ragdoll. He stepped over his twin's twitching corpse, his face twisting into a mask of snarling rage. “Damned hunters!” he roared, his eyes bleeding to black. He lunged for me, fangs bared and dripping with stolen blood.