Destined to Kill: A Destined Novel (Destined Novels Book 1) (24 page)

It almost feels as though I'm a mother sending her children out into the cruel, cruel world on their own. I'm nervous. I can tell my Hunters are nervous as well as they dress in their new duds (courtesy of Emily, a girl of many talents). I do my best to soothe their anxiety, but in reality, they won't feel soothed until they are out there and know they can do this on their own. It was something I never had the privilege of experiencing since I didn't hunt until after I was turned.

I suppress the pang of jealousy I feel. It is silly to feel jealous of the kids who must feel they are going out to their impending doom. They were going to draw names from a hat again - which I desperately wanted in hopes of separating Sam and Amanda - but, they made a unanimous decision to stick with their original groups. The only addition was Jenna in this first rotation. Strangely enough, she volunteered.

"Just remember what you've learned," I tell them. "Stay focused and patient." I help Amanda put on her black leather trench coat, fitted with inserts to hold their swords in their sleeves. With a quick push of a button, the blades release smoothly, ready for action. They're ingenious really.

Zac rolls his eyes at me when I specifically look at him.

"I know, I know."

"No heroics," I continue. "Listen to your instincts. Always have each other's backs and, please, be careful."

"We got it, mother," Jenna scoffs. I'm beginning to understand that she uses her rudeness to mask her nervousness. I'll let it slide because this is their first venture out by themselves. But, part of me wishes I could just pop her one.

"Help Zac take the rest of the gear out to the van, Jenna," I order, coolly.

She huffs, but doesn't argue - which, incidentally, probably saves her from actually getting popped.

I turn to Amanda. "Please be careful. And, listen to your gut. You have the best defense by knowing they're near. Don't doubt yourself. Understood?"

"Yes," Amanda nods and hugs me quickly. She catches me glancing at Sam, and without a word, silently slips away.

"You be careful, too," I tell Sam when we're alone.

"I will."

"Come back to me," I whisper.

"I promise," he says, his voice low and full of emotion. Sam feathers a finger down my cheek. With a quick check to see if we're alone, he leans down and kisses me softly on the lips. "I promise."

I dress in my hunting gear, thankful that the others have chosen to go home to be with their families tonight. I fill my belt with stakes, sheath my daggers and grab my swords, placing them in the sheaths at my thighs. Taking a deep breath, I wrap my cloak around me, and watch my face disappear in the mirror as I lift my hood.

I'm perched on a roof, watching my Hunters carefully. I'm pleased to see that Zac and Amanda are walking together while Sam and Jenna venture ahead of them. They keep the chatter to a minimum and listen intently to their surroundings. I take a moment to put my senses to use, sniffing the air, while tuning my ears to hear any irregular sounds. There are innocents around, but they are few. There's a stench of Hybrid, however, I cannot pinpoint the location.

"Just let them do their job," I scold myself. I crouch, following them as they patrol the alleyways, careful to not be seen. When I get to the end of one roof, I effortlessly, and silently, jump to the next. I think, briefly, of what it would look like if one of them happened to look up as I was in mid jump. My cloak would be flowing behind me, a dark shadow, flying through the air. I stifle a chuckle, but sober immediately. Something isn't right.

My Hunters are being hunted. I turn my attention to the two figures stalking my group. Sam and the others are oblivious, and I understand why now. The figures are human.

"Shit," I mutter vehemently. They don't have time to worry about damn humans! Don't you people know they're trying to save your damned lives? My internal rant is doing nothing to help the situation. I run back, jumping to the building between the Hunters and humans. Soundlessly, I drop to street.

The internal rant becomes an internal debate. What to do about the humans? I can't kill them. But, they intend to harm what is mine. Then, I see the glint of metal. Guns! Well, hell! In the span of a millisecond, I gauge my position, and become aware that I'm closer to my group. A millisecond is all the time I had, because without warning the human raises the gun and fires at the same time I run to Amanda.

Sam and Jenna, who were ahead of the others, whirl at the sound. Zac's blades are out and ready, his head whips around trying to find the origin of the sound.

I raise my cloak, swallowing Amanda in it with me as the bullet sinks into my back.

"Humans," I whisper to her, deliberately masking my voice. "Run."

She freezes for a moment while the others are yelling, dodging bullets. "Go!" I growl, and push her away, but staying in the path of stray bullets.

I pivot, and run towards the humans. What is the code when they're trying to kill us, I wonder.

"They're humans!" I hear Amanda yell to the others. "No! Zac, we can't! The code!"

I ignore everything else, and focus on the humans. They keep shooting, and it takes everything I have not to engage my swords and sweep them across their necks. Bullets are biting into my skin, burning. They won't kill me, but damn if they didn't hurt! I lift my arms, bringing my cloak up, and just as before with Amanda, I envelop them, wrapping my arms around their throats.

They struggle against my hold as I drag them away from the others, but get nowhere. Not so tough when you can't use your guns, I think in disgust. When I know I'm far enough away from my Hunters, I let them go, throwing them against the alley wall.

Stupidly, they try to raise their guns. With a deft move, I disarm them both with blinding speed.

"Who are you?" The bald one, covered in tattoos (does everyone have tattoos?) demands.

"Who I am does not matter," I answer, my voice gruff. "Who are you?"

"Screw you!" This gem is from the bald one's partner. Blonde, and, unfortunately for him, stupid.

I click my tongue, shake my head and backhand him. He, fittingly, slumps into the trash at his side.

"Let us try this again, shall we?" I say, sweetly. "Who are you?"

"No one! We're no one!" Baldy is scared, but there's something about the way he says 'no one' that intrigues me.

I kneel in front of him, pinning him against the wall with one hand around his neck. With my other hand, I lift my hood enough for him to see my eyes.

"Who are you?" I ask, again. I put the power of compulsion into the words, and I see his eyes glaze over.

"C-Cue. Er…Cody, but they call me Cue," he stammers. "That's 'Casper'. Eddie."

"Who calls you Cue?"

"My bros, um, gang."

"Why did you try to kill those kids earlier?"

"We were told to." His eyes are flat, he is completely under my control. Susceptible? Or, is this a sign that someone else has been controlling him?

"Who told you to?"

"I don't know. Just orders." Baldy is beginning to sound like a zombie. I soften my gaze, knowing that if someone with my abilities got to him, he won't know who they are. When I let go of his neck, he automatically tilts his head for me.

"What are you doing?"

"I am here to serve you," he whimpers, and closes his eyes, waiting for me to feed.

I have to admit, I'm tempted. Very tempted. But, as I lean in, a peculiar tattoo catches my attention. It was a very simple tattoo, however, the message was anything but. Two small black rings with red ink in the shape of drops of blood dripping from them. Quickly, I check the neck of blondie, and confirm my fears. He has one, too. Well, this can't mean anything good.

I shake - what was it? Casper? - until he is awake, and fix my gaze on him.

"You will forget me, and everything else that happened tonight. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"You will not hunt Hunters anymore." I turn my gaze up. "Anyone who hunts Hunters will die. Whoever attempts to kill Hunters will feel as though they are burning from the inside out. Get that message out. Is that understood?"

He shivers. "Yes."

I have no idea if that will actually work, but I take the chance anyway. They've been used so badly, I'd actually be surprised if it didn't work. Besides, whomever was doing this to them can't possibly be as powerful as I am. Right?

I catch up with Sam and the others in time to see them fighting Hybrids. This is what they were trained for, and what they're good at. I can tell they're still shaken by what occurred earlier, but they are doing a great job at not letting it affect them. I don't need to interfere, and I'm happy about that. It means they are more than capable of taking care of themselves. I realize that I will have to have a conversation with the entire group about what to do with the humans that are apparently helping this new breed of Cursed Ones. I just don't know how to handle that situation. Yet.

My attention is caught by another presence. Not human, but not a Hybrid either. A full blood.

"What in the hell is going on?" Because talking to myself will get my questions answered. I shake my head in disgust with myself, and watch the Cursed One closely. He's observing my Hunters, but also keeping an eye on his surroundings. "What are you looking for?"

Again, I'm talking to myself. If I want answers I need to go get them. I devise my plan while descending from my post. This needs to be done quickly and quietly. Another distraction for my group could spell disaster.

I know that the shadows won't hide me from my target, so I time my approach between his surveillance. I pounce when I'm close enough, grabbing him from behind, my hand over his mouth and plunging a stake in his heart before he even knew what was going on. I feel the pain in my own chest, once more, but I don't take the time to analyze it. I pull him further into the shadows of the alley.

I touch my chest over my heart absently, crouching in front of him. No tattoos, I notice. He's quite beautiful, actually, with a mane of black hair and an angel's face. Immediately, and perhaps foolishly, I feel guilty for thinking that. Why the guilt? Because of Sam?

I mentally shake myself, chastising myself for being even momentarily distracted. Taking a sword from its sheath, I press the button to release the blade.

"You won't feel a thing," I say, then plunge it in his right shoulder, through the building behind him. It won't hold him for long after I take the stake out, but it'll buy me some time.

He wakes up sputtering and hissing when I remove the stake - not so beautiful now - then freezes when he sees me.

"You!" he snarls, and makes a grab for me. Confusion sets across his face when he can't move far.

I cock my head. "Me?"

"Cloaked One! You're mine!"

I place my hand on the hilt of the sword and push, penetrating it further into the brick behind him.

"I would say you're mine," I counter. "What do you want with me?"

He hisses in response.

"Well, hissing will get you nowhere. Tell me, and perhaps I'll set you free."

"Set me free and I will stake
you
," he retorts.