Hunting Death

Chapter 31

"Damien please," Keith protested, "There must still be some part of you in there, you know this is wrong, she's innocent, I'm innocent. And you're a cop for God sakes!"

Damien tilted his head to the side, his eyes, going black as his pupils dilated beyond normal, closing to mere slits while he seemed to ponder what Keith had said. "You couldn't be more wrong. Everyone's little whipping boy is long gone. It's like you said Keith, I'm a hunter."

It was hard to draw the line between good and evil as Madison watched Damien's posture change radically. He wielded his sword with the practiced expertise of a soldier or a medieval knight.

"I'm a hunter, Keith." He said again, his voice low, and raspy. "And you're the prey."

Keith braced himself for impact, Lee stood a few feet back with nowhere to go, her back up against the side of the barn. With every instinct inside him ready to fight, he bared his fangs, his face contorted with rage, his eyes glowing brightly.

But as Damien lifted his sword high, prepared to slice into the first piece of flesh he made contact with, Keith hit the ground. He felt himself rolling, unable to stop, the momentum carried him far out of Damien's reach.

It seemed like one big blur, it happened so fast. He'd been on his feet, ready to fight, and suddenly he found himself skidding across the dirt and wiping at the sand in his eyes. Screams, loud and panicked, rang in his ears. A blood-curdling howl of pain, followed by another howl, this one low and deep, mournful.

Keith looked up, brushing frantically at the bits of gravel and dirt that still obscured his vision. He saw movement close by, a scuffle, the sound of shoes scraping against the driveway. Somebody grunted, a woman gasped, and then he smelled it. Blood.

The cloyingly sweet, metallic smell filled his nostrils. Someone gagged, choking as they lay dying a few feet away. Keith scrambled to his feet finally able to check out his surroundings.

He saw Cybil first, still in wolf form as she slowly limped away from the fray, he assumed that she had plowed into him, knocking him to the ground and out of harm's way. He caught sight of Molly next as she ran towards the barn where a body appeared slumped over, a head lay a few feet away.

He grimaced. It had to have been Lee. Cybil might have pushed him out of the way, but Damien's sword hadn't missed, after all, he'd simply hit another target. At least from the looks of it, Lee hadn't suffered much.

When his eyes finally settled on Damien, he gasped, running those few feet as fast as possible, and pulling Madison, who sat straddling Damien's lifeless body, to her feet. He cradled her in his arms, rushing her into his cottage as he checked her for wounds.

She was covered in blood. Her hands shook as she stared blankly ahead. She seemed nearly catatonic.

"Madison!" Keith shouted. "Answer me, dammit!"

"She's fine." A familiar voice called from behind.

Keith turned to face her, "Cybil."

She smiled, despite the contempt she saw in his eyes. "Don't just stand there, love. Be a doll and get me something to wear."

Though a million disgraceful thoughts ran through his head, a thousand choice words he'd like to say to her, Keith did as she asked. Fetching one of his shirts and throwing it at her face. He no more wanted to see her naked than to see her at all, but if he had to, he at least wanted her clothed.

"What are you doing here Cybil?" He demanded, walking back over to Madison and placing a wet cloth against her face.

"Looks like I'm saving your ass, you might try to be a little more grateful you know."