2

t’s like a movie set,” Riff said to Danielle as they got out of the SUV.
The place was the typical farmhouse: two story, wrap-around porch, wooden swing, and a sleeping dog by the door. There was even a dilapidated barn off to the side. Riff shown more of her giddy side as she saw an old rusty car near the barn, pointing with excitement. “Look! It’s even on blocks!”
“If I find an outhouse, I’ll be sure to tell you,” Danielle playfully whispered.
Jake stood behind them and removed his sunglasses. The evening sun was beginning to near the tree line, bathing everything in a bright, golden hue. He took in the scene, as well, adding his own piece to the stereotypical conversation. “I’m just waiting for the banjo music to start playing.”
“That movie took place in Georgia,” the scribe corrected as he handed a digital camera to Jake. “But it’s a common mistake made by outsiders. You can’t always believe what you see movies.”
“Or on the tele,” Riff added.
“Or in books,” continued Danielle.
“Or in the news,” Jake joined in.
“Enough!” the team leader, Bradford, called out.
The three were jolted into silence. The harsh reaction from Bradford was unexpected. The burly man walked around the SUVs as the other hunters stood around the three. Earlier during the drive, he joked and carried on like a host to some elusive club. But now, the carefree side of him was gone, replaced by a drill sergeant.
“As a reminder,” Bradford began, “we are here on a job. Act professional. No chewing gum, no goofing around, no horse-playing, and no swearing. Treat the innocents with respect.” He lowered his voice as he continued. “We are animal control, here to investigate reports of some wild dogs. There have been no attacks on any humans as of yet, so let’s keep it that way.”
Riff raised her hand.
With a sigh, Bradford addressed her. “Yes, Miss Blondie?”
“Seriously, six months here and you’re still calling me Blondie?”
“You have a question?”
Rolling her eyes, she asked, “Weapons? We seem to be lacking some.”
“And your point?”
“Everyone else has a weapon, even Peter Parker here”—she gestured to the scribe fiddling with a camera—“and I think it’s poor judgment to let us go meandering about with no means of defense.”
“Then I’d advise you to stay close to someone who is armed,” Bradford explained as he motioned to the men standing in the back. “Everyone, get a radio and let’s begin.”
The men opened the back of one SUV and began handing out the radios. The trio waited for their turn. Even without weapons, they knew they were better fighters than these “professionals,” and the chance to prove this fact kept them on edge.
With radios in hand, some attached to belts, the group of nine walked up to the old farmhouse. A hush fell over them as Bradford knocked on the door.
Riff knelt down beside the sleeping dog and began to stroke his coarse fur. Her face turned grim.
“Bloody hell, the dog’s dead,” she exclaimed.
Danielle leaned down to inspect the dog for herself. The animal was cold and rock hard. She stood up and laughed.
“He’s stuffed.”
“Stuffed? Who would stuff their dog?”
“Quiet,” Bradford ordered.
Riff recomposed herself and wiped away the imaginary germs from her hand. She kept glancing at the stuffed dog. This guy is definitely a nutter.
They heard the sound of footsteps from inside the house, followed by the rustling of chains and locks. The door opened to reveal a man in his late forties, with freckles and orange hair, dusted with grey. The man stood there, his slender arms folded over his chest.
“You must be animal control,” he said, stepping onto the porch. “Wow, there’s a whole mess of ya, isn’t there?”
“I’m Bradford Jones,” their leader said as he held out his hand. “We spoke on the phone.”
The man took Bradford’s hand and eagerly shook it. “Nice to finally meet you. My name’s Arthur Phillips,” he said, glancing at the others with a small wave. “I guess we should start with the barn.”
Danielle’s first impression of Arthur was one of disbelief. The man, from the sound of it, had many locks on his door, yet didn’t check to see who or what awaited him on the other side. And then there was the way he showed them around his property. He explained everything with wild hand gestures and a voice of a well-practiced storyteller, cluing Danielle into the sad fact that this man loved any kind of visitor: girl scout, someone selling a home security system, or even Death himself, this man welcomed them all.
Arthur led his new entourage around back to a second barn, this one a stark difference from the other buildings on the property. The man had poured most of his money into the new barn. He gloated over the building, saying that it was his mission in life to rescue horses from slaughter, and later give them away to those most deserving. He called himself a one man, non-profit organization. It took Danielle all the strength she had not to poke holes in his grand plan.
“I have—had eight horses,” Arthur said as they walked through the empty barn and into a little office/tack room. He left them for a moment as he retrieved the photos from the desk. “It pained me greatly to take these, but I thought I could do them some justice and help stop the animals that did this.” He handed the photos to Bradford.
“I’ve already seen these,” reminded Bradford.
“Oh. Right. I forgot.” He went to take back the photos but another hand intervened.
Riff took the photos and flipped them. “Where are the horses now?” she asked, unaffected by the gruesome scenes.
Arthur seemed horrified by the request. “Are you sure you want to see them in person? It’s pretty bad.”
Bradford gave Riff a threatening look. “Yes, I believe we need to take a look at them. It will give us a better understanding of how many dogs we’re dealing with.”
“Well then,” Arthur said, taking back the photos, “they’re not far from here.”

The scent was one no one could mistake. Even before they saw the bodies, the sour smell blanketed the area. The first horse lay within the tree line near the fence. From this point, neither the house nor barn could be seen.
“Her name was Little Dancer,” Arthur said, a small quiver in his voice. “She was a good horse. Her former owners took part in harness racing. After one tumble, she was declared lame and sent off to auction. That’s when I swooped in and bought her, saved her from slaughter. But now look at her… poor girl.”
The mangled remains shown a torn neck, abdomen, and claw marks over the shoulders, legs, and chest. A swarm of flies buzzed around mess of spilled intestines, giving the morbid scene a unique hum. The killer’s identity, obvious on the photos to Bradford, told a different story in person.
Riff knelt beside the horse’s neck and chest. She, too, saw the red flags. Jake snapped a few photos as Riff held her open hand near a distinct claw mark. She looked up at Bradford.
“It wasn’t a wolf that attacked this one,” she informed.
“Wolf?” questioned Arthur. “I thought you said it was dogs.”
Bradford was quick to explain. “We found a guy not too long ago who was illegally breeding wolves and selling them as pets. Some of his wolves managed to escape. We’ve been keeping our eyes out for them. But it looks like whatever did this wasn’t a wolf. Where are the other horses?”
“The other two are near the pond.”
“And the horses that were unharmed?”
“They’re in the other field,” said Arthur, pointing down the hill. “I was hoping to bring them in now. Care to help me?”
“I would like to inspect them first for any injuries that may have been overlooked.”
Arthur began walking as he spoke. “Oh, I looked them over already. Not a scratch.
Upon reaching the metal gate, Arthur began to call out for the horses. One by one, the horses came from the path leading out of the woods. They took their time, strolling along like carefree trail-ponies. This was their retirement. They had no reason to rush.
Arthur opened the gate and stepped inside. He grabbed the lead ropes that were draped over the fence and began to attach each one to a halter. He then loosely tied the leads to the fence, lining the horses up for inspection. Arthur then opened the gate once more, allowing Bradford and his crew to inspect the animals. Danielle and Jake stood back as Riff eagerly headed inside with the others. With care, they looked over the horses, checking for anything Arthur may have missed. Riff chose a dapple grey horse to inspect. She assumed that its light coloring may attract more attention than the others. Her thorough inspection turned up a healthy, albeit old, horse.
“This one is clear,” she said.
The other members of the group slowly turned in their verdicts, as well.
“Sir!” a man called out from the end of the line. “I have something here.”
Bradford approached the man standing by a dark horse. Riff also made her way over to them. The horse was smaller than the rest, its mane and tail both thick and long. The man inspecting the animal lifted up the thick mane. The two puncture wounds were fresh with trails of wet blood going down the neck. The bite was located on the soft underside near the animal’s head.
Riff ran her fingers over the blood. Her eyes then shot to the treetops. The sun was gone but the orange light remained.
“Reese and Greg,” said Bradford, “help Mr. Phillips here get his horses back into their stables. Then stay with him inside the house until I call for you. Stay on channel twelve.”
Reese and Greg jumped into action.
“What’s going on?” Arthur asked.
Bradford replied, keeping the concern from his voice, “We believe the dogs are close by. We need you to stay inside. There’s a possibility some maybe rabid.”
“Oh!” Arthur hurried over to the nearest horses and grabbed two lead ropes. “Need to get you gals someplace safe.”
Following Arthur, Reese and Greg took the last three horses and headed for the barn.
Bradford waited until Arthur was far enough away before speaking. “I’m not one-hundred percent certain that what we’re dealing with is a werewolf or a vampire. It could very well be a werewolf attack masquerading as a vampire. We will proceed assuming nothing. Two teams: Riff, Danielle, and Kevin, with me; Ross and Jake will go with Otis. We will be using channel 9. Stay together. With luck, we may be able to draw this thing out.”
Bradford nodded at Otis, who removed an extra gun from his shoulder holster and handed it to Jake. Bradford, as well, handed an extra gun to Riff, while Kevin, the scribe, gave his backup gun to Danielle.
The teams split up; Otis’ team heading for the woods and Bradford leading his team along the fence.
Danielle could see Riff’s change in attitude when her assumption was right. Her hand against the claw mark was the first strong clue. And there was another fact that wasn’t mentioned—the horse wasn’t fed on. Of course the animal was mutilated, but there was no missing flesh. Werewolves by nature feed off of their kills. They rarely kill just to kill. The third clue was the obvious trademark bite on the other horse’s neck. Out of the remaining horses, this one was the smallest and its mane concealed the bite perfectly. A quick thought struck Danielle; they weren’t supposed to see this horse. But what if we were? Her thoughts circled around again, finally ending where she began. The possibility that it was a werewolf answered the same questions. It didn’t have to be in any wolf form to inflict the damage that killed the horses. And even the vampire bite could be faked. But with a proper medical inspection, it could be determined if the bite was created by a vampire.
As Riff marched along, she could not care less if the attacker was a werewolf or vampire. Either which way, she wanted to get her hands bloody tonight. She preferred fighting vampires. Many times, werewolves proved too easy to kill. But a vampire—a creature priding itself on its cunning—was a joy to kill. There was nothing like removing a leech’s head. No amount of cunning could keep those creatures alive. It all came down to skill, and as a hundred times before, no vampire had escaped her.
Walking along the fence, the radios came to life with an update on the other team’s position. They had stumbled onto the other horses near the pond. Otis gave the report, stating more of the same as with the other dead horse. This time, it was mentioned that the animals were missing no flesh. Bradford radioed back and told them to stay on the trails and to return the house in an hour.
The fence led them along a wooded area that stretched up to the single-lane road. By the time they reached the road, Bradford retrieved his flashlight. Though the light of dusk was enough for Riff, Danielle, and Jake to see, the others had a difficult time. But in playing the part as obedient hunters, Riff and Danielle turned on their own flashlights.
Bradford continued on, still following the fence as it went alongside the road and then back into the woods.
Danielle’s flashlight began to flicker. She tapped it several times. The light turned off. Riff noticed her troubles and stopped at her side.
“Care to use mine?” she offered, waving the flashlight like dangling meat.
“No,” Danielle said as she banged her flashlight into the palm of her hand. “Leave it to me to get the broken.”
“Hurry up,” Riff said, walking again. “Don’t want to get our handler fuming at us.”
Unscrewing the end to the flashlight, Danielle removed the batteries and bulb. She refitted everything back into place and pressed the switch once more. No light this time, not even a flicker. “Perfect,” she sarcastically said, rolling her eyes at herself.
Trough the sound of others trouncing ahead of her, Danielle caught the faint sound of footsteps on gravel. The sound was too faint for human ears, but her heightened senses picked up everything around her.
Walking back to the road, Danielle imagined the footsteps belonged to a human. The way each shoe struck the ground rang out in the distinct telltale way of a human. Even the random sound as one shoe struck the gravel before it should, rolling the rock with a sharp crunching. Definitely human. With her strong need to protect all innocents beaming forth, Danielle stepped onto the road, yards before the human.
“May I help you?” she asked.
The man seemed startled by her. “My car… I ran out of gas a mile down the road. Do you have a cell phone I can use?”
“Sorry, I don’t have one.”
The young man scratched the back of his head as he thought of another solution.
In the low light, Danielle could see him clearly. He had short, dark hair and brown eyes, and a look about him that was very pleasing to her eyes. For a brief moment, she forgot why she was out here.
“Well,” the man continued, “is it possible you can give me a lift to the nearest gas station? Or even to the nearest pay phone?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”
“Is there anything you can do to help me?”
She shrugged. “I’m afraid not.”
The man nodded politely. “Sorry to have troubled you.” He began walking down the road once more.
Danielle let out a sigh. “Wait. I may be able to lend you some fuel.” She retrieved her radio and pressed the button. “I have a guy here who needs some petrol. Do we have any we can give him?”
The radio squelched back with Bradford’s voice. “Where are you?”
“Back at the road.”
“No, we don’t have any to spare. And Danielle, get your ass back over here.”
She made a face at the radio. “Aye, aye, sir.” She turned off the radio.
“I thought you didn’t have a phone,” the man said, motioning to her hand.
“Oh, this? It’s just a radio.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Brilliant observation,” she shot back, realizing he noticed her accent.
The man brushed off the sarcasm. “Where are you staying?”
“At the farm just over there,” she replied, pointing in the direction of the farmhouse.
The man narrowed his eyes. “That’s odd. I thought only Arthur Phillips lives there.”
“We’re family.”
“I didn’t know that Arthur had any family. He never talks about them.”
Danielle studied him carefully. Did he suspect anything? “What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“It’s Scott.”
“That’s a nice, common name.” She smiled and immediately wanted to slap herself. Stop flirting with him.
“Danielle is a common name, too,” he said, returning the smile. “But your last name, Kenrick, tells me so much more about you.”
Danielle’s stomach knotted. “How do you know my last name?”
“Forgive me,” he said with a bow. “My full name is David Scott Lucas.”
End over end, Danielle’s mind churned through the plethora of information gathered in her head. She knew this name. This wasn’t some regular, random human. This was David Lucas, former assistant to Alexander Ingram. And if the rumors were true, he was no longer human. But this didn’t make any sense. He appeared human to her. Everything about him rang out as human. Some vampires had the ability to make them seem human to the untrained eye, but Danielle was trained by the best. But what if the rumors were false?
“Have I said something to upset you?” he asked.
Danielle took a step back, her mind still struggling to gain any foothold.
He continued speaking. “Or perhaps I’m confusing you.”
In a sudden rush, the human aura surrounding him switched into one unmistaken by Danielle. The vampire standing before her, though not even a year old, had the skill of a centuries old vampire. And the new aura emanating from him deafened her senses. It was an attempt to intimidate her.
“I’m not here to kill you,” he said, keeping his distance. “But your presence in this country has sparked the interest of many. Why would the House of Redthorn be here anyway?” He smiled. “I know why.”
Danielle removed the gun from waist of her jeans and aimed. Her thumb turned off the safety as she spoke. “I’m aware this won’t stop you, but I think a half-dozen bullets to your head would slow you down.”
“No stake? I’m insulted.”
“Look around, pretty boy, there’s a whole forest at my disposal.”
David watched her, his eyes taking in everything. “You cannot trust Alex, Danielle. He lives to serve his own personal crusade.”
“We have no dealings with him.”
“Odd, then why are you at Eden?” He stumbled onto the answer himself. “Oh, you’re here to size up the competition.” He took a step closer to her. “Alex isn’t as ignorant as you may have come to believe. He is very aware of your intentions.” He took another step.
“Don’t come any closer!”
David stopped. He held out his hands to show he meant her no harm. “Why are you afraid of me? I said I wasn’t going to kill you.”
“I’m not afraid!”
“Your body says differently.”
Danielle relaxed, forcing her body back into a controlled state. “The horses, was that your doing?”
“Arthur is a nice man. I’m sorry I had to do that to him, but I knew it was the only way to send Alex a message.”
“You could just walk up to the gate.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that. He had to believe it was a werewolf in order to send a small team. But imagine my surprise when I saw his new guests tagging along.” David’s attention went to the woods. He heard the rustling leaves before Danielle could. “Bradford is looking for you. Be nice to the man. He lost his wife and two girls eight years ago. Eden is his family now.” David retrieved a letter from his pocket and handed it to her. “Give this to Alex.”
Danielle’s eyes went from the vampire to the letter. She hesitated before removing a hand from the gun and reaching for the letter. Everything swirl around Danielle as the vampire grabbed the hand with the gun, pushing it to the side and pulling her close, his other hand under her jaw.
“It’s not you I fear,” David whispered, “nor the man sitting in his mountain fortress. It is her. But she has loosened my leash and I am here to honor his wishes.”
Everything Danielle had learned and practiced abandoned her in this moment. Her muscles, her mind, and her instincts were rendered to dust before him. This wasn’t happening. How could she let this happen? She felt his hair brush her face as he moved closer, his mouth at her neck, lips parting and teeth pressing into her. Danielle’s body tensed up amidst the rush of pain.
As soon as the bite began, it was over. Danielle looked around and saw herself standing alone on the road.
“You’re starting to get on my last nerve, missy!” Bradford said as he stepped onto the road. Riff and Kevin followed him.
“I…” said Danielle, looking up and down the road. “I just met David Lucas.”
All of the air in Bradford’s lungs left him. “What?”
Riff’s eyes lit up. “The David Lucas? But I thought he was dead.” Her mind snapped onto the rumor. “So it’s true? He’s a vamp?”
Bradford shot her a dangerous look. He turned to Danielle once more. “What did he say?”
Danielle remember the letter and found it sitting on the road by her feet. She picked it up. “He told me to give this to Alex.”
Bradford went to grab the letter, only to have Danielle pull back, guarding it.
“He said that I have to give it to him in person,” she lied.
“So it was David,” Kevin spoke up. “He was the one who killed the horses?”
She nodded. “To get us out here.”
“Wow, I never knew the guy had it in him.”
“Of course he does,” Riff pointed out. “He’s a killer now.” She looked at her cousin and saw something odd about her. “Did anything else happen?”
Danielle was caught off guard. “No. He did most of the talking, then he gave me the letter.”
Riff narrowed her eyes. “Then why don’t I believe you?” She went to brush her cousin’s long hair from her neck.
Danielle waved her away. “Stop! I’m all right. I wouldn’t let him touch me. Why do you think the letter was on the ground?”
“All right, all right, I believe you.” Riff pointed the flashlight at the letter. “What does it say?”
“That’s for Ingram to see.”
Bradford began talking on the radio. “Begin walking back to the house. The situation has been nullified.”
Nullified? Danielle felt the pain in her neck return. The adrenaline from before was beginning to subside. The vampire could still be watching them and Bradford was calling off the mission? She could never understand the these “hunters.”

Alex heard someone knocking at the door to his private study. He answered it, surprised to see Danielle on the other side.
“Yes?” he said, irritated.
Danielle was aware it was late, but she felt the importance the letter carried. “I was told to give this to you.” She handed him the letter. “Did Bradford have a chance to speak with you?”
“Not yet. I will talk to him in the morning.” He opened the letter.
Danielle watched his expression carefully. His face grew pale as his eyes lifted to her.
“Who gave this to you?” he asked.
“David Lucas.”
Alex’s eyes dropped back to the letter before returning to her. “You spoke to him?”
“We talked. He said that he was there to honor your wishes.”
Alex place a hand to her chin, turning her head from side to side, checking for any marks. Her untouched skin stared back. “Is there anything I’m not seeing?”
She pushed away his hand. “He was a gentlemen. He kept his distance.”
Alex’s full attention went back to the letter. He said a quick, “Thank you,” and shut the door.
Danielle sighed. Why did she lie about a silly bite? It’s not like it was her first. It was the situation, she explained. I lost the upper hand and my pride took a hit. That’s all. She rubbed her hand over her neck, recalling the moment his teeth broke her skin.
“Do you think he’ll kill him?”
Danielle looked down the hall to see Jake.
“What?” she whispered. “No, David wouldn’t kill him.”
“I meant Ingram. Do you think Ingram would kill David?” He lowered his voice even further. “It will save us the trouble.”
“We’re not here for that,” she said as she passed him. “We’re here to observe.”
Jake grabbed her arm. “Where’s your head at these days? You know very well why we’re here.”
“That little detail is for our parents to worry about,” she snapped back, wiggling out of his grip. “I didn’t want to come here in the first place.” She stared at him, daring him to utter another word.
“Remember Cassius Law,” he threatened.
Danielle glared at him. She couldn’t believe he said that. Cassius Law, the only way to permanently remove a rogue hunter. It was the same law initiated to weed out those unfaithful to the families of Redthorn, a way to protect the sanctity of their cause. Pax’s mother was one such victim. But this law covered more ground than wayward hunters. It could be used by any within the family to eradicate straying hunters. And Jake believed she was straying? She was hurt by the statement.
“Cassius Law does not apply here,” she pointed out. “I was only giving him a message.”
“That came from a vampire. You were doing the bidding of a vampire. So what am I to think?”
“If it wasn’t me, he would’ve found someone else to give him the letter.” She shook her head and added, “Why am I even wasting my breath on you?”
“Then prove me wrong. Next time you see this vampire, kill him. I don’t care what ties he has to Ingram, he’s a vampire, and therefore our prey.”
Danielle felt her jaw tighten. “Whatever you say, so I shall obey.” Her voice was filled with sarcasm. She turned sharply and headed for her room.

Alex slid onto his desk chair, letter in hand and his breathing shallow. His eyes went from word to word in no particular order, finally landing on the name at the bottom. His eyes returned to the top as he began to read.
 
Dear Alex,
I will not start this letter with any classic formalities. As you may be wondering, I have been given a reprieve of sorts and have been allowed to contact you, but it can only be for one night. Meet me tomorrow at Grissom Park at 11 p.m. You can bring your personal army if you like.
~David
 
Alex gently folded the letter and placed it in the drawer. There was no debating his course of action. He was going to Grissom Park.