The Hunter In Me

21 - Puddle

Jake strolled into the kitchen with wet hair, wearing my clothes. The T-shirt strained over his shoulders, trying to contain the massive mimic, and the pants had become capris.

His smile didn't falter when he spotted me, or as his gaze flicked to the weapon I held. "Where are Mother and the guys?" Jake glanced around.

"One's dead; the other two left." The adrenaline that had my heart racing made my voice tight as I spoke to the monster that murdered my dad.

Jake shrugged and blew a raspberry. "I told them we should stick together."

I shifted away from the island to give myself a straight shot at Jake in case he tried running. We wouldn't both leave here alive. "You're not very concerned about your mom."

"I'm sure Catriona and Shay are fine. Vaughn was the weak link there, so I guess he's dead, but I never cared for him anyhow." Jake stuck his hands in his pockets. "Oh, hey, thanks for the clothes. The ones I came in fit better, but that asshole stabbed me." He gestured at Dad's body. "Don't worry; I've healed, but with all the blood, I needed a shower. I'm a sloppy eater." He winked, and I tightened my grip on the knife as angry tremors shook my limbs.

"He's trying to unnerve you. Don't give him the advantage," Owen said.

My teeth ground together. "I won't."

"You won't, what?" Jake asked before understanding lit his expression. "Oh! You're talking to the buddy you have in your brain. I don't hear him, but Catriona said he fussed like a worried grandmother while you were knocked out." He chortled as though we were friends hanging out, and my blood boiled.

"We can still switch. Do it quickly, while he's cracking himself up," Owen said.

"No, I've got this. He's mine."

"Well, aren't you a confident little dessert?" Jake grinned and extended his claws, preparing to fight.

I waved him closer. "Come on, then."

He sauntered toward me, smirking when I stood my ground, and then swiping at me. I dodged fast enough that he barely grazed my shirt. When he came at me again, I knocked his claws away with my forearm as I stabbed his side with my other hand. The blade slipped in under his ribs, too low to hit his heart.

Jake grunted and held his injury. Blood spread across the front of his shirt as he stumbled, but stayed on his feet. Swinging the other arm, he aimed for my throat. I ducked, avoiding his claws, and punched the stab wound. Jake jerked away, then rammed his shoulder into me, pinning me against the cabinets.

My skull bounced off the wood, and Jake wrapped his fingers around my neck, holding me in place. His claws sliced into my skin and he leaned in until his hot breath drifted over my cheek. "How are you a hunter? You're just a little bitch like your old man, hardly putting up a fight."

As an obnoxious grin stretched his face. My pulse pounded in my ears, choking out whatever Owen tried to tell me. Jake's grip tightened, causing warm liquid to seep into the collar of my tee.

Holding his stare, I lifted the thin kitchen knife and slammed it through Jake's jugular to the handle. The tip of the blade gleamed red on the other side. His eyes widened as gurgling came from his windpipe. He coughed, spraying droplets of blood on me, but I was too angry to care.

He released me to reach for his wound, and I shoved him into the island. Before he could remove the weapon, I grabbed him under the jaw and bent him backward, smacking his head into the stone countertop with a resounding crack.

"You got him, Bash," Owen said. "Finish it! Go for the heart before he heals."

Owen's words rolled through me. Instead of following his command, I held Jake down and watched the crimson river cascading from his throat, forming a puddle on the light gray stone of the island. The puddle became a stream that followed the granite lines toward the fruit bowl Dad filled with apples yesterday.