Dmitri

Blood. Werewolf blood. I'm silently making my way through the forest to the source of the smell. Following the scent leads me to a clearing behind some trees opposite Sky's sunroom.

It's Ruan—one of my warriors on surveillance duty.

After the meeting with Jacobson, I had men rotating shifts, keeping an eye on Sky's shop and house in case any Hunters tried to make contact.

He lies before me, blood pouring out of a wound in his chest. Accurate and fatal. Kneeling, I take a closer look. Bringing a blood-soaked finger to my nose, I inhale deeply. A silver bullet. He didn't even have a chance to turn. The shot was close range, more than likely with a silencer. Whoever it was must have masked their scent. The blood flow tells me that this happened minutes ago.

A quick assessment of the ground around the body indicates tracks leading off into the forest behind Sky's house. I allow my Lycan senses to take over, my eyesight taking in every detail, every crushed leaf and disturbed piece of soil, following the tracks through the forest. Deciding the high ground will be less expected, I jump silently from tree to tree. A twig breaks in the direction the footprints lead, my prey not as stealthy as I am.

The piece of shit. He is crouched down, hiding in a bush. He has a phone in his hand. I can only assume he wants to alert someone to the situation, call in backup. Silently, I edge forward.

When I left Sky at home, I mind-linked Ivan letting him know of the situation. He should be here shortly, leaving another man to guard Sky's house.

Another jump, and I land on a branch just above what I assume to be a Hunter. They are renowned for using silver, which is fatal to our species if lodged within the body. A slice from a silver blade leaves a pretty hideous scar, speaking from experience, but an embedded blade, as with a bullet, can be the end for our species. If not removed timeously, the effects spread, usually ending in fatality.

I jump down, landing in front of his hiding spot. He drops the phone on the ground, cutting the connecting call and crushing it under the heel of his black military-style boots. He moves up and forward, out of the bush, simultaneously reaching for the gun holstered to his side.

Before he can even grip the handle, I've grabbed him, one hand around his neck, lifting him off the floor, legs dangling uselessly feet above the ground.

One of his hands is rummaging through his jacket pocket while the other is clawing at my hand around his throat. Knowing what he is looking for, I grab his other hand, which is now fisted. I squeeze his wrist, breaking it, causing his hand to open. A small capsule falls to the ground, confirming my suspicions. He is a Hunter.

Each hunter is given a small capsule filled with a lethal dose of cyanide to be used when captured or where capture is imminent with no way out. They are loyalists who would rather die than disclose any information. I didn't judge it. Werewolves were as devoted. It was just the agendas that were just different.

"Why are you here," I state rather than ask him, slightly loosening my grip on the off chance he decides to answer.

"What do you want with the girl?" The red face looks defiantly back at me. He won't talk. We will take him back to our holding cells and continue the interrogation. Frustrated at his resistance to disclose any information, I lower him to the ground just as Ivan breaks through the shadows of the forest and into the clearing we are now standing in. I toss the Hunter towards Ivan, his body landing painfully on the ground before him.

"Put him in a holding cell and start questioning him. I need to know everything." We may end up employing some more forceful interrogation techniques if he didn't talk.

"See if Kira and IT can get anything off of this," I say, handing him the cell phone as I head back toward Sky's house.

I nod in greeting to the warrior standing in the shadow of a pine tree close to Sky's sunroom. Dylan is one of my best.

"She's sleeping," he indicates, pointing inside the sunroom.

Looking over, I see Sky's head poking out of a blanket covering her body, which is now curled up in a chair. She doesn't look peaceful. She has a slight frown knitting her brows. How long had it been, I wonder absentmindedly, looking at the clock on my phone. About an hour.

I walk up to the exterior sunroom door and gently knock on the door's window. After no reaction, I knock harder, jerking Sky from her sleep. She looks panicked, eyes darting around until they land on me. She jumps up and quickly unlatches the door, sliding it open so I can enter.

"Are you ok? What happened?" She is anxious, looking from my face to the rest of my body, scanning for any injuries. Her gaze stops at my right hand. Shit. Ruan's blood. She snatches my hand, pulling me further into the lounge and the light. She is moving it left to right, checking if there is an injury.

"I'm fine," I say, harsher than I intended. It's cute, her concern for me. I'm just not used to it, and if she knew what I was, she would realize how wholly misplaced it really is.

"It's not my blood."

Her head snaps up, eyes intently on mine.

"Whose blood is it?" she asks nervously, her head slightly moving from side to side.

"It's bear's blood. I found it on a trail on the other side of the house. Must have been killed by a hunter. I'll inform the local authorities, and they will have it moved by morning." The lies flow easily. We were accustomed to making up stories to cover our tracks.

She seems to be processing what I'm saying, a small look of doubt flicking across her face before it disappears.

"Come to the kitchen and wash your hand," she says, dropping my hand and moving towards her kitchen.

Now that I am in her house, I follow slowly behind her, trying to take in everything I see. Perhaps its interior would tell me about its owner. And it does. My eyes take in the colorful tiles on the wall, and all the nick knacks on the windowsill as we enter the kitchen. It is bright and quirky, like her. The inside perfectly suits Sky.

"Here." She is standing by the basin, holding out some soap.

Taking it, I start washing the blood off my hands. We will honor Ruan tomorrow with a traditional burial and a celebration of his life, I tell Ivan through mind-link, absentmindedly removing the blood from under my nail as I do.

Sky is standing on the side, a towel in one hand. She passes it to me as I finish, not saying a word.

We stand there for a while, her looking at me, me looking at her, as I dry my hands. Silently, I hand her the towel.

Unsure of what else to say and still unsettled about what had just happened, I head for the front door, ready to leave. The sound of her clearing her throat behind me has me halting in my tracks. Here it comes. She's going to start asking questions, and I wasn't ready to give any explanations. Slowly, I turn around.

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