Night Hunt Ch. 11

****

Creeksville was a nondescript town that few people would have heard of. If they hadn't been looking for it, they might have even missed the sign on the highway. To get to the town, they had driven for what seemed like an hour through a small winding road that twisted through the forest.

By the time they found their lodging, at what looked like the only bed and breakfast in the place, dusk had already painted the sky purple. Thankfully, the town didn't have many visitors, and they were able to find individual rooms for Connor and Sam. Not surprisingly, Tyrus had insisted that Anya remain with him.

This morning, she and Tyrus were on their way to investigate the house where the Governance agents had seen the vampires kill. Sam and Connor would check out the woods to see if they could uncover where the vampires were hiding. They'd update each other if they found any leads.

Anya had spent the better part of the night continuing her training with Tyrus. They had started on some attack moves. She'd devoted herself to it, focusing only on getting stronger, faster. Every move she made felt like a part of her was clicking into place. A part she had not known about until now.

All her life she'd always felt like she'd been lost, never really fitting in anywhere, a lonely orphan girl with nothing to claim as her own. Now she felt like she had something. Now she understood why she'd always felt like there was something more to her lurking beneath the surface.

Learning about this world, and using her newfound skills, had all felt like coming home. She realised that since she was a little girl, she'd been hiding a secret hope that she would one day know what home felt like. She'd just never dared to admit it to herself.

She'd had a taste, once, when her best friend had come into her life. But now this feeling was not dependent on another person. It came from herself, and now that she had it, nobody could take it away from her.

The first night at Le Bastille, she'd been bewildered and terrified, overwhelmed by the revelation that other creatures walked the night. The discovery that she wasn't human, and that she had hidden powers, had been a rude shock, one that she couldn't process in one night.

Over the past two days, things had gradually sunk in, and she found that she liked it. What she knew now felt right, as if everything before that had been a pretence, though she had not known any better. It didn't matter what she was, she knew more about herself now than she ever did before. And she would keep learning.

The four of them had gathered in Tyrus and Anya's room in the early morning, hashing out their plan for the day. Their conversation had been brief, all business and no small talk. Anya couldn't help but notice that Connor and Sam seemed to try to put as much distance between themselves as possible.

Since yesterday, they had stopped their bickering, and appeared to be avoiding one another. When Connor had followed them to Tyrus' car, she'd shot Tyrus a questioning glance, but Tyrus had merely given her a quick shrug as if echoing her sentiments.

It wasn't as if things were going any better between herself and Tyrus. Other than during their training, they'd barely spoken to one another. Neither of them seemed willing to break the silence.

What was she supposed to say anyway? I thought you wanted me? Why did you kiss me then pretend it didn't happen? Right. If she could ignore the constant lust that pulsed through her body, she could also avoid awkward conversations that she'd never been good at. Maybe one day, she would even be able to stop thinking about the mind blowing sex she'd experienced with Tyrus.

Tyrus stopped the car outside a small, cheery looking house at the end of a quiet street. Anya couldn't help but notice that its backyard merged with the edge of the forest, and didn't have a fence. She supposed in a quiet, sleepy town like this, there wasn't the need for one. The nearest house before this one was a little ways away. It was late morning on a weekday, and it seemed as though most people were either at work or school. The area was empty.

"Wait here. I'll make sure the place is clear, then come get you. Lock your door, and don't open it for anyone but me," Tyrus said as he unfolded his long body from the car.

She watched him take a sharp inhale as he stood outside, then walked warily around the house, looking into each window. His movements reminded her of how predators prowled their territory on wildlife documentaries, hunting for prey. Every movement was graceful, measured, muscles coiled for action at the slightest provocation.

He disappeared around the back and didn't re-appear again. She looked at her handphone, taking a quick note of the time. Five minutes later, he emerged from the front door and waved her over. She joined him quickly, relieved that he hadn't taken long. She hated sitting and waiting.

The house was dark on the inside, its curtains drawn and all the lights switched off. It felt strange entering somebody else's home uninvited.

"Don't touch anything," Tyrus cautioned as he closed the door, "this place might become a crime scene if the neighbours realise that these people have gone missing."

Anya realised that Tyrus had put on gloves. She was about to take a step forward when he pulled her towards him.

"Careful love, watch where you step."

Her heart did a little flip flop at his sudden proximity and what he had called her. Then she noticed why he had pulled her aside. A pool of dried blood lay at her feet. One edge of it was smudged, creating a trail into the next room, as if the body had been dragged there.

Her senses belatedly picked up on the smell, faint to her human -- or whatever she was -- nose. She had to clench her teeth together to keep a wave of nausea down. She couldn't stop staring, wondering if the person had died quickly, or been murdered slowly. She recalled her own attack, felt the sting of phantom fangs puncturing her neck. A shiver ran through her as she stared, hoping there hadn't been too much pain.

"The agents cleared the bodies," Tyrus said quietly, watching her. "They couldn't take the chance that the vampires had turned them. They brought them far away, to be burned."

Anya swallowed, shaking her head to clear the thoughts that ran through her mind. Tyrus placed a gloved hand on her elbow, calming her. "I'm sorry, this can't be easy for you."

"I'm ok," she said, surprised at how steady her voice was. She waited for her body to go into shock, for her limbs to go weak with fear, but nothing happened. Maybe she really was getting used to this.

They proceeded warily, Tyrus just ahead of her, showing her where to step. Every now and then he paused, scrutinising a wall, or an object. Once, he picked up a glass on a side table, and sniffed it carefully before placing it back in the same spot.

They went upstairs, where they found signs of a struggle in one of the bedrooms. A lamp had been knocked to the floor, with a small splatter of blood beside it. Tyrus knelt down close to the floor, inhaling slowly as he cocked his head to the side and studied it.

"Strange... the agents only reported seeing four vampires. I smell a fifth one, and it smells fresher. As if someone else came by only a day or so ago. The scent is female, but the agents were both male. I must have missed it earlier. Could really use Connor's tracking skills right now."

He stood up with preternatural grace. "It seems that everything else is as the agents reported. Let's see where the fifth one went."

Anya followed behind Tyrus, being careful to only step where he did. Why was there a fifth vampire? Where had she come from and whose side was she on? The path that the fifth vampire took seemed to lead straight back downstairs, through the kitchen, and towards the back door.

Tyrus opened it and stepped out onto a little wooden backyard porch. With a sudden snarl, he turned and shoved Anya back into the house. Anya heard a click.

A thread of fear snaked through her as, through the door, she saw a hand holding a gun, pointed at Tyrus' head. From where she was standing, she couldn't see who was holding the gun. She knew it was a woman's, from the slender, French-manicured fingers that wrapped around the handle.

Tyrus whirled to the right, where the woman was standing. When he faced her, he stood perfectly still, the way only someone who didn't need to breathe could. Amber eyes flashing, he stared down the barrel of the gun. Anya had no doubt that if the person made a single wrong move, or took her eyes off him for a second, the gun would be out of her hand and turned on her.

"So, you're Tyrus the Terror. I've heard stories about you. You're not quite as large as they made you out to be. You don't seem to have claws the size of kitchen knives either."

The voice was cold but feminine, with a slight Russian accent. Ice ran through Anya's veins. She suddenly found it difficult to breathe. She knew this voice. But it was impossible.

"Tell me," the voice continued, slow and articulate, "what were you thinking... bringing Anya to a place like this?"

Anya gasped as a black high-heeled boot, then another, came into view, thudding gently on the wood of the porch. Her eyes followed them up a pair of black leather pants, and a tight black tank top which bared more than little pale, smooth skin. She continued on until her gaze rested on a face she knew well, with perfectly symmetrical features and clear grey eyes. Sleek long white-blonde hair, slicked back into a high ponytail, completed the look.

"No..." she whispered, starting to shake, "it can't be. You're... you're dead."

The woman turned to her, symmetrical, beautiful features rearranging themselves into an expression of amusement.

"Technically, I've been dead for a lot longer than you realised."