Reid doesn’t know if this whole situation is perfect or if he has the worst luck ever. He sits quietly in the back of the black SUV, a soldier beside him. He ignores the two up front, his body adjusting to the tight black hunting suit.
It’s incredibly comfortable, even the hood. Flexible, skintight and thick enough to offer warmth. The fit makes him slightly self-conscious but he knows that once he takes the dust his embarrassment won’t matter.
“Almost there,” the driver calls back softly, face in shadow.
Reid shifts slightly as the soldier beside him hands him a small plastic pouch.
“Newest and brightest,” the man says. “Fresh out of the lab.”
Reid takes the slick bag in his hand. He looks up and out the tinted windows, just enough light from the passing street lamps to see the brick wall along the side of the road. The SUV’s lights are out. It slows, pulls over onto the shoulder and stops.
“End of the line, kid.” The driver turns off the engine. “Time to do your job.”
Reid opens the bag. He’s been looking forward to this. For a moment his mind flashes to an imagined image of the three men with him dying horribly, the interior of the truck a blood-soaked mess of body parts. But he has to focus. Leila’s life is in the balance.
And he has to talk to a man about some dust.
“We’re sure he’s home?” Reid is still surprised. Syracuse never lived in Arizona. He’s right here in the northern states, on the coast. Reid figures the man must troll the whole country looking for kids. Either that or he was in Reid’s home state on business when he met Lucy. Not that it matters. But it makes it easier to have the target in Reid’s reach.
“Positive,” the driver says. “Just got confirmation. Go get him, tiger.”
The three soldiers laugh. Reid laughs with them, rivers of their blood and their dying screams calling to him to kill them.
Instead, he leans his face forward over the glittering pile of powder and inhales deeply. He feels it enter his system with a rush of heat and zing, instantly thrilled at the power that fills him up. He is whole again in that moment between him being Reid and his transformation into a hunter.
His perfect vision cuts through the darkness. He can make out every imperfection on the face of the man beside him. The soldier leans over him and opens his door.
“Happy hunting.”
He snarls silently at the soldier and oozes out of the truck, not bothering to close it behind him. He is about to leave when the front door opens and a picture is shoved in his face.
“Don’t forget,” the driver says. “Kill him. Only him.”
He studies the face. Knows it. Lifts his head to sniff the air. It’s full of the scent of fresh flowers, the powdery smell of brick and mortar, the subtle ionization of electricity. He is at the wall in a heartbeat, feels the pulse of power running through the wires at the top. And yet, the owner failed to clear the trees around it.
He is up and over in a flash, his body easily absorbing the impact in the soft grass on the other side. Silence. A few lights illuminate the large house, but the air is so still he can tell no one is moving.
He keeps to the darkness, a jet shadow among shadows. He can almost taste blood and flesh as his need to kill surges within him and drives him forward. There is a back door, the lock flimsy. The wall has made the owner soft and negligent, a pathetic barrier that only looks impressive. The thin bolt keeping him on the outside gives way and he is inside.
The scent of cigar smoke is all around him, filtering through his system, drawing him forward. The floor is slick and polished, marble cold under his feet through the thin rubber of his shoes.
He pauses once, to allow a sleepy guard to tromp past on his way to another part of the house. He can smell food and knows the man is going to the kitchen. Waits until the light under the door turns on before moving on.
The staircase is broad and elegant, the chandelier over the entry catching what little light there is, sending prism beams outward. He ignores the beauty of it. The only beauty he craves is the taste of blood and soft flesh.
The smell of the target’s habit is getting stronger. He doesn’t hesitate at the top of the stairs but flows down the hallway, feeling every door on his way, searching for life room to room. He finds what he is searching for at last, at the far end. Two white doors, a double entry grand and imposing, are the last barricade between him and his prize.
The doorknob is silent, the hinges equally so. Still, he waits once the portal is closed behind him, just in case there is a trap or warning system. Nothing. Instead, he sees, as clearly as though the sun was up, the giant four-poster bed, and the two bodies asleep in it.
He has been told to kill only the man. He glides to his side and looks down. The face is so familiar, heavy snoring masking any noise he might make. He knows this target, but his need to kill and devour his prey pushes past his curiosity. His right hand lifts, claws ready as he bends over his target, hand raised to strike.
The other occupant sighs and rolls over, her face clearly exposed.
He knows her, too. For a heartbeat, her face is lost to him, another superimposed over it. The vision is so clear, it cuts through the power of the dust and brings Reid back to himself.
He pants through his mouth as his consciousness returns. He is still a hunter, his claws present. And he knows if he looks his eyes are silver. But he has taken control of himself again and he has Leila to thank. And, perhaps in part, Lucy. Reid can’t bring himself to feel gratitude toward her, lying there, looking so innocent and beautiful. But it is her face and blonde hair that triggered his memory of Leila.
Reid clamps his human left hand over Syracuse’s gaping mouth and prods him with his claws.
“Wake up.”
The man’s eyes fly open, shock turning to terror as he realizes who bends over him.
“Make a sound and you’re dead,” Reid whispers as he feels Lucy wake. She is already drawing a breath to scream when he slides his claws under her chin, cutting off the sound before it can emerge. “You too, sister.”
They huddle together, terrified, Lucy clutching the sheets to her while Syracuse’s fat body quakes.
“I’ve been sent here to kill you.” Reid figures that much is obvious but wants the pair to know how serious this is. “Dr. Lund sends her regards.”
Immediately Syracuse’s eyes narrow. “So why aren’t we dead?”
“Just you,” Reid says casually. “I was told to leave Lucy for later. So Kirstin can watch.” Lucy shudders, already pale skin washing out.
“I’m still alive,” Syracuse repeats. “Which means you either don’t have the stomach for it or you want something.”
Reid nods. “I’d rather kill you,” he says.
“Tsk-tsk.” Syracuse pulls himself up into a sitting position, fear visibly fading as Reid watches his arrogance come back. “You should know better than to double cross her. She’s not the most forgiving mistress.”
Reid shrugs. “She hasn’t left me a choice. We need help and there is no one else we can go to.” He hates saying it. Hates it. But there is no choice.
Syracuse shoves Lucy away and moves to get up.
“Don’t,” Reid says.
The fat man pauses, retreats. “What do you want? And what have you got to offer me for it?”
A true businessman. Reid lets a humorless smile twist his lips. “You get us out,” Reid says, “and we give you dust.”
Syracuse’s hand is under his pillow. Reid wants to laugh. Especially when the man pulls a gun and points it at him. “What’s to stop me from just shooting you and taking yours?”
Reid is on him, the gun on the floor, Syracuse pinned with claws at his throat. The fat man gurgles, his terror clearly back from the bulging fear in his eyes. It’s so strong Reid can smell it on his breath, enough it almost drives him back into hunter mode. He only just manages to hang onto who he is by holding his breath.
“All right,” Syracuse whispers, words shaking past his thick, trembling lips, soft beads of spittle touching Reid’s cheek. “All right.”
Reid backs off, draws a breath, retrieves the gun. “Now, as I was saying. You get us out, we give you what you want.”
Syracuse swallows hard and smiles, his insincerity barely masking his fear. “I have some connections,” he says. “The regular military are looking for you, you know. A friend of mine is heading up the search. General Aberdeen. For you and Dr. Lund. You know she’s nuts, right?”
Reid rolls his eyes. “Really? Hadn’t noticed.”
“She’s being hunted herself,” Syracuse says. “For illegal activity. Pretty sure she’ll face a sniper’s bullet before she sees the inside of a courtroom.”
“How do I know you won’t just call her?” Reid will never bring him to trust this man.
Syracuse shakes his head, holding his hands up as if to protect himself from Reid’s distrust.
“Now Reid,” the man says, “would I do that? Besides, who do you think called for backup that night? Brought in the real army?”
“You?” It makes sense. He was the first to escape. Reid feels marginally better.
“That’s right. Now, tell me where she’s keeping you and I’ll make that call. Have you kids out in no time.”
The man’s tone sickens Reid but he figures Syracuse is just falling into the persona out of habit so he lets it go.
“An abandoned prison,” Reid says. “Don’t know which one. But it’s only about an hour from here.”
Syracuse is nodding. “I know the place. Now, about my payment?”
The fat man looks so eager Reid wishes he could kill him after all.
“You deliver first,” Reid says. “Then it’s our turn. Get us out and to safety and I’ll make sure you’ll get what you deserve.”
Syracuse looks concerned as he takes the meaning of Reid’s words.
Betray them and he dies. It’s that simple.
“I’m going now,” Reid says. “Lucy, time to put those acting classes into use. Give me two minutes then start screaming. Got it?”
She nods quickly, hiding her face in her boyfriend’s shoulder.
He wants to kill her too, but lets her live. He’ll deal with her when all of this is over.
Reid retreats at a run, not trusting the fat man not to betray him. He’s pinned all their hopes on the very man who put them all in danger in the first place. But Reid knows Syracuse will deliver, if only to get his hands on the dust.
Reid is down the stairs and on his way out when he remembers he’s supposed to have killed someone. He dashes for the now-dark kitchen and goes to the refrigerator. He’s been smelling blood and now he knows why. A large, uncooked roast waits for tomorrow’s dinner. Reid dumps it on the counter and hacks it apart with his claws, making as much of a mess as he can. There is still enough blood left in the haunch that it splatters up to paint his face.
The sight of it is too much. Reid cuts off a large chunk and takes it with him. He is starving for raw meat. And while the human part of him is disgusted by it, the hunter in him devours it as he goes. His retreat is as fast as his entry and he is leaping the brick fence within moments.
Reid goes to the driver’s side of the SUV just as he hears the first screams. He licks the blood from his claws as the window hisses open. The soldier cocks his head to the side, listening. Lucy is doing a fabulous job. Lights flare upward behind the wall. Men are shouting.
The soldier gives Reid a grin and a thumbs up.
“Get in.”
He climbs in the back seat, his tongue swiping the last of the blood from his skin. Delicious. Reid glances sideways at the soldier next to him. Instead of disgust, the man grins.
“Good job.”
Reid sits back as the SUV powers up and drives off, wondering why they aren’t afraid of him.
Then it hits him. He feels around them, kicking himself for not noticing before. They feel like the other hunters.
Dr. Lund has given them dust.
***