Chapter One – The Hunter

One

A quick, darting movement in the dark. A slim, muscled form slipping behind the large protruding air duct atop the expansive building. The movement was followed by a string of bullets, peppering into the thin sheet metal which separated the lead shower, and the flesh it meant to penetrate. Behind the duct, a slight click, and both empty magazines fells as one. They joined the condensed formula of Hydrogen and Oxygen. It always seemed to rain. The man's form slapped two fresh clips in, even as the empties struck the pebbled roof.

I am a Hunter, the light of these dark days. For centuries, their war has raged, unseen to human eyes. Except, of course, for mine. I still consider myself human. Sometimes.

The sound of his back hitting the sheeted aluminum was hollow through the cold night air, as both Glocks were raised, steam mixing in with the showering water. Doing it's own little dance in the city light. His head turned to the right, dark eyes scanning the perimeter. No sign of his prey yet. A silent count in his head, as the liquid coolness slipped down his set jaw. One. Two. Go. Pushing up with his knees, almost too fast for the light to follow, he came up, spinning as the lightning cracked through the chilled October sky. The long coat flew out behind him, rotating with his body, revealing the belt on his waist, filled with shining lengths of black magazines , which were filled with small golden life stealers. The water streamed off of his chin, as the man spun, heated barrels swinging to lock onto his prey. One of the denizens of the dark.

I, myself, have been alive for quite some time. Thanks all to a very generous sire. I am not one of them. I am not one of their enemies. I am, the medium, so to speak.

The weapons leapt lightly in his trained, capable hands, as the Hunter stepped out from cover. He turned with his prey's attempt to flee, nearly all of the flying rounds finding their mark. Each jerk back of his fingers screaming fury into the sky, and falling silent into the monster as it ran. Finally it fell, as both clicked empty, and the Hunter felt mildly surprised. Most went down much faster. He hit the release, time seeming slow throughout the entire exchange, as two more empty clips fell toward the roof. They were met by an explosion of rock and roofing concrete. The creature was still armed, and returning fire blindly. He pushed off, the Hunter's body being lifted into the falling rain, and darting back into the darkness behind cover. Safety. The sound of two more magazines being slammed in could barely be heard over the rising din of the flying spray of bullets, and the crash of distant thunder.

Do you know what happens when a human drinks Vampire blood? Do they become the undead? In a sense, yes. But they are not of the Kindred. The human becomes more of a familiar. A servant of the immortal. Bonded. They gain the immortality, in a sense, as the human will not age. But the other perks of those undead. The blood lust, the ability to take standard bullets to the chest. I, we, do not possess this. So perhaps, I am human...

The creature's weapon went dry, as the Hunter leapt nimbly over the raised part of the roof he had used for sanctuary. Slowly, carefully, he walked to his prey; wanting it to know that his domination was complete. That his hunter would be victorious. Even while it's life blood was draining, mixing with that life giving liquid that pooled around it, it struggled to reload. The water that brings life to all things, was causing his blood to empty faster, distilling as the rain pelted already thinning flesh. The water that would never quench the beast's thirst. The Hunter leaned over the prone form on the roof, slowly, almost as though he wanted the life drinker to reload. He placed the barrel of one gun against the bottom of the creature's chin.

We are cattle. We don't have a name, the ones that the beasts bond with. The ones who drink their blood. We are servants to them, and are expected to obey the ones who bond us. My bonders name was Diego. A Mexican life drinker who owned a cattle ranch, as they call it. I was on vacation. After I was bonded, I found it hard to want to harm him. I felt... a sort of love for my bonder. But I killed him all the same.

Pressing the weapon harder against the Vampire's chin, the Hunter leaned his head down, locking dark, unfathomable eyes onto the bright blue that gazed back at him in fear. He seldom said anything to his prey. No words of parting. They would have eternity to explain themselves. Of course, nobody would listen in Hell.

So now I am a Hunter. I travel across this city and others like it, taking down the Vampires. But not just the Vampires. I hunt their enemies to. The Lycans, Werewolves. I hunt them, so that when this war is over, I will come out on top. Then I can end my own suffering. I can rest. But not until each and every one of them are...

He pulled the trigger, the hollow tipped round bursting down the rifled barrel, and decimating the creatures head from point blank range. Blood spraying like a fountain, soaking the Hunter's face in the dark crimson fluid, which slowly began to slip off with the rain. Blood that the creature would never take again.

...dead. By the way, the name is Damien.

Two

He stepped off the bus, dark eyes scanning the street on which he lived. Damien walked casually, still nearly silent as the rain tapered off. Even so, his short black hair was plastered to his forehead, an outcome of the night he had become used to. The coat trailed behind him as he moved, cutting into an alley. As he moved, the familiar weight of the guns strapped to his hips pressed into him, easing his mind as he reached the fire escape. Another night over. Another hunt. Another kill. He was pleased, as the undead life he ended was that of an older generation Vampire. Thoughts of the battle strayed into his head, as they always did. Damien didn't like killing, and he always felt remorse. Even after all of these years.

Thinking about that right then had been a mistake. He heard the sound of the landing mere seconds before he heard the air part behind his head. Damien dropped to a crouch, as the fist went flying over his head. He stood back to full, hearing two more pairs of feet hit the ground. He brought his right foot up, kicking the Vampire in the chin, and sending the beast flying back. He drew at the same time as the other two creatures, turning, and aiming at them both in the same instant they trained their weapons on him. Two of the undead, a man and a woman. And the man he just struck, who was slowly standing. Damien saw their clothing and felt his heart sink slowly. Death Dealers.

"This is the man?" The woman said it more as a statement, as the fact was quite blatant.

Damien kept both barrels locked on two separate skulls, even as he heard the man behind him approach slowly. He swept his gaze between the two in front of him, both training guns on him. The man was fairly tall, with long blonde hair tied back into a loose tail, dressed in all black, similar to how Damien looked, actually. Damien could have easily passed for one of them. His gaze darted to the woman. Slender, focused, and attractive. Black hair, chin length, accenting her lean face. Her eyes were a dark brown, locked as firmly onto Damien's as his were onto hers. For the eyes of one of the creatures, they sure seemed human enough. Damien shook himself on the inside, reminding himself not to be tempted by such displays of false humanity.

"What do you want, Death Dealers. You know I don't pursue your kind." It was true. Damien left the hunters of the Lycans alone, so long as they didn't interfere with him. He had only killed eleven in his career.

"What we want is no concern of yours, Hunter. Just know that if you give it to us, then we may spare you."

Damien smirked, as the girl took a step toward him, her face set in stone.

My, but isn't she the demanding one?

The other one was right behind him now, and he only had a couple of seconds to pull it off. A twist of the waist, and he had connected his heavy black leather boot with the female's hand, knocking the weapon away just as he pulled the trigger twice on his gun, punching two neat holes through her partner's face, and sending him harshly to the ground. Dead or stunned, he wasn't fighting. The Death Dealer female was leaping for her gun as Damien turned, intending to kill the Vampire about to jump him. Damien felt his arm be struck hard, the weapon in the left hand dropping to the pavement with a loud crash of metal on concrete. He brought his hand around, smashing the side of that unarmed fist into the Vampires head, before reversing it as fast as he could and putting the knife edge of his hand into the undeads throat. Around came his right hand, pressing the end of the Glock nine millimeter into the Vampires left eye. And explosion of light, sound, and heat, and the creature went down stiffly. Its body hit the pavement as Damien spun, directing his gun toward the girl.

He was staring down the barrel of a gun, and so was she. They stood face to face, both panting heavily, both prepared to take the others life if the opportunity arose. The silver blue glimmer in her eyes told him that she had worked to get a hold of that gun, and hadn't expected a human to be so fast. If he was human, that is. She also had excellent taste in weaponry. A modified H&K USP handgun. Nine millimeter, like his. Only hers was probably loaded with silver bullets. Not that it mattered. Any bullet could kill him.

"Well, Death Dealer, it seems we have a draw. You lower, and I will." Damien nodded slightly, his forehead touching the end of her weapon.

"You first, Hunter." She spoke back as calmly as he did, pressing the gun against his forehead, forcing Damien's neck back.

He slowly lowered the gun, keeping it aimed in such a way that any shot he fired would be lethal. Surprisingly, she did the same, and after a few seconds, they both had their guns at ease.

"Now, if you hadn't busted in here like that, you would have two more warriors for your little mock war with the Lycans." Damien smiled, not at all upset about taking two more lives.

Or unlives, as he liked to call it. The woman took a step back, her cold, dark gaze locked onto his. It was cold, and yet, surprisingly warm. Almost human, again.

"So why did you come here, Death Dealer?"

The girl looked away, but not enough to lose him in her vision.

"We lost five tonight, Hunter. All killed by a Lycan..."

The way she trailed off gave it away, but Damien would have caught the implications of it without any noting.

"One Lycan? You must be mistaken."

"I would not make such a mistake. We came to you, because you are easily the best Hunter known, and we needed to know if you knew what could make one Lycan so powerful."

She said it with unease. She was obviously going against her Coven, accepting help from a human. Especially a Hunter of The Kindred. That would explain the ease of which he dispatched the two ones with her. No high class Vampire would go against the Coven. They must have been her friends. Pity they had to die, but it was the business. Damien looked up, as the crack of thunder launched the downpour that immediately encompassed both of them.

"My name is Selene."

Damien was brought out of his thoughts, to gaze at the woman once more, who had just offered her name. Selene. He knew the name well, as she was on of the most formidable Death Dealers anyone had known.

"I'm Damien. Look, I am sorry about your friends, but we must not linger out. It won't be too long before someone sees us."

He slipped that dark gaze up toward the window to his apartment, several stories up. Selene followed it, before looking back to him.

"And of their bodies?"

"We leave them. Your Coven will wonder where they are, and when they come looking, the bodies will be found. They will assume that they were Hunted, which they were. I will relocate my home during the daylight hours."

Selene nodded, still very wary indeed of the youthful appearing man in front of her. Damien smiled, as best he could to a Vampire, and motioned to the fire escape. He would help the Death Dealers with this little problem, since it meant he wouldn't have to kill the Lycan on his own. As for Selene, he would have to wait to take her life, for another Hunting.

Three

Throwing one leg over the back of a wooden chair, Selene slipped down in front of a long table made of oak. It looked like a rectangular dining table, with a few seats on each side, and one large plush one opposite of her. Most likely Damien's chair. The Hunter walked beside her, shooting a casual glance as he approached the end of his table, setting both pistols in front of his chair, and spinning them on their sides. His dark gaze rising to lock onto Selene, he held out right hand casually, resting it on the table between his spinning guns, palm up.

"Your weapon, please."

Selene scowled, not exactly keen on giving up her firearm to a Hunter, especially in his home.

"Listen. If you want me to trust you, you have to take steps. That's the first of many. I am letting you keep all of your other little toys, so just slip the gun across the table."

She paused for another moment, before un-holstering her gun, and tossing it across the ten foot table top. Damien snatched it up smoothly, ejecting the clip and counting bullets, before sliding the magazine back in and tossing it back to her. Selene caught it with a smooth grace of her own, confusion sliding across her quiet features. Damien sat, resting both hands on the end of the length of oak furniture, as both handguns spun at about the same speed still.

"It was a matter of trust Death Dealer. And you are much too trusting. The second you tossed me the gun, I could have killed you in seconds with both of mine."

"Assuming that was the only weapon I had."

Damien raised an eyebrow, a slight smile curling up his lips. Selene checked her weapon once over, before slipping it back and leaning forward with that casual grace, elbows resting on the table.

"Now, I have a few questions for you, Hunter."

"Go ahead." Damien leaned back in his chair, resting weary eyes closed, and weary arms to the side.

"What the hell did you use on them? I haven't seen any kind of ammunition take down one of us like that..."

Damien sat forward, eyes still relaxed and closed, and snatched up the Glock on the right. Pulling the clip out with a resounding click, he placed one thumb under the gold colored round, and popped it out toward Selene.

"See for yourself."

Damien slipped one eyelid open as the hollow point round landed in Selene's palm, a small smile sliding up his face. The second it landed in the skin of her palm, she winced, dropping the now smoking bullet onto the table top. A small amount of that smoke came from her wide opened hand, where she would be burned mercilessly.

"What the hell?"

"One of the long forgotten weakness of the undead."

Damien held his hand out, motioning for Selene to toss him back the bullet. She hit it quickly with her hand, causing the small round to fly over and right into his hand. There Damien placed it between thumb and forefinger. He gazed at it, and behind it, toward the Death Dealer that was tainting his home. She was gazing back just as intently, dark eyes locked on the small lead object.

"I suppose I can tell you, since you can't do anything about it. Holy water. All it takes is a quick dip in clean, pure, blessed water, and the bullets become lethal to your kind. I dip my silver ones too. They become twice as poisonous to the Lycans."

Damien tossed the bullet up, catching it casually as his other hand scooped up the Glock it was expelled from. He ejected the clip, slipping the round back into the magazine as Selene went on.

"Interesting. But to the business in hand. Do you know how any Lycan could be so powerful?"

"Well, what did it look like?" Damien was slipping the clip back into the gun, dark gaze locked onto the Master Death Dealer, eyebrows raised.

"Much larger than most Lycans, and so much stronger. I barely got out of there..." Selene spoke as she stood, moving toward the only window in the expansive room. It was a dining room, a large glass chandelier hanging above the expensive oak table in the center of the long room, an expensive red rug under that oak.For a Hunter, he sure had money. Selene didn't know much about the man, only that he was a great thorn in her Coven's side. For the most part, the Hunters only went after rogues. Vampires and Lycans that had gone feral. Most Lycans were like that, uncontrollable and vicious. But Damien was different anyway. He hunted the hierarchy. The older, more powerful Vampires. That's what made him such a threat to her kind; that he didn't hesitate to remove any of their kind. They had sent Death Dealers after him in the past, but they were never successful. Selene hated to admit it, but thinking back on the Lycan attack, she needed his help.

"I saw the whole attack, and the Lycan sliced through our people like they didn't exist. It was impossibly large, and proportioned wrong. Like I said, I barely got away."

"Sounds to me like a mutant. Which means I am going to have my hands full..."

Selene frowned, moving from the window to walk slowly toward him, brow furrowing in thought as she studied his closed and quiet face.

"You? Are you planning on taking this "mutant" by yourself?"

Damien stood, smiling slightly, and snatched up his Glocks.

"I suppose I have to. Your people can't seem to handle it, and I can't have it killing humans."

He walked toward a room in the back, turning to motion to the door that would lead Selene back to the outside.

"I have a hunt tomorrow night. So come back here at about two o'clock. Don't be late."

With that, he left Selene to let herself out, as he walked casually into the room and closed the door. Kicking off his shoes, Damien shrugged off that heavy, slightly armored coat, and slipped into bed. He barely paused to place one of the guns under his pillow before his head hit it. He needed some sleep, he had to switch places of residence during the day, and it would be a long night.