I back out of the shallows, each ripple tinkling like far off elfin bells. Droplets cling to the rubber lining of my shoes as they roll, darkening the surface of dryer banks. The river swells with its unceasing flow that swept Ashlen and her captor into obscurity, but there's one other that did not flee the scene in a masking direction. Their scent hangs in the open.
I crouch down, staring blankly into the erratic waters. I mindlessly grip Ash's boot, wringing the synthetic material in both hands.
All other concerns are hushed and replaced by a primitive essence, drowned by the roar of the rivers ebb and the rapid rise of my predator.
My mind's eye maps the odors, calculating and deciphering each sound from the flutter of a Night Heron's wing to the whizzing of a twig succumbing to a harsh breeze, plummeting with a thud into layers of mulch.
I'm branching out, gliding through unknown woods by thought as though it's familiar as my own childhood home, mentality sprinting through the river morass and the jungle of untampered nature.
There, the trail of the aggressor and all the evidence they left behind. I drop the boot as an offering, rising to follow this new target.
My analytics and reason are pushed into the backseat as this beastly need for the pursuit slips into my skin like a glove. 'Hunt, *Kill*'
I hastily pursue the invisible bread crumble trail that only an animal can detect. Nothing can deter or slow my pace, my intentions, the *need*.
Something has clicked in my head, beyond astute observation. My senses are sharp but my thoughts are unraveling into something uncontrollable.
I've relinquished to the monster, let go of all concepts of morality and empathy. My ethics are dissolving to feeding my basic desires, sacrificing it to the part of myself that is most savage.
My state of mind… This is dangerous. I'm unstable. Am I bloodstruck? It doesn't matter! Nothing seems to matter more than getting her back safe, *nothing*.
Eager as a hound dog after a red fox, I chase but instead of romping and howling through the night I'm quiet as the diamondback without the rattle. All but invisible until an unsuspecting foot treads too near.
And they've already misstepped, I *will* be striking with venom.
The subtle tampering is as apparent as muddy footprints on immaculate marble tiles. They were here, shifting those leaves, rubbing a single flake of bark from that tree with a grazing shoulder, thinning the air and disturbing the stagnant humidity. And by the stride, weight and scent of them, I can *tell* my target is female.
I'm closing in on her like a tidal wave. Building momentum, an unstoppable force like a growing tsunami. Ready to pummel anything in my wake indiscriminately to dust.
There's no escape, her path is as obvious as runway lights. All incriminating and her guilt has been decided. I'm out for her execution.
I'm gaining on her and note that she is not privy to my whereabouts. Stationary and none the wiser, a glaring coldspot among the organic wood.
I slow my stride to a sneak, creeping to meet the presence of a well concealed stranger, finding she is not alone.
There's a male vampire chewing her out. He's a high rank, I suspect more than a couple centuries old.
I crouch down and silently stalk like a leopard in the tall grass. I concentrate on the conversation, sizing each potential opponent.
"This is a slight against Faction Altissimo and Christina's order. How dare you threaten me," the woman retorts his last statement with a chip on her shoulder.
I smell it on her, Ashlen's blood. It stands out like fireflies fluids, squashed and rubbed all along her hooded floor length coat. My knuckles crack with anticipation of collecting the debt. I'm crazed by it, I start to descend to take my pound of flesh.
'Wait!' I freeze and suppress the animal that just wants to jump in guns blazing, wrestling it back within me. I need to play this smart. Especially with the other one, being as old as he is. My beast snarls at me in objection from being chained back down.
"Are you truly so incompetent a reader to near my person with laced weapons?" the man snaps, an appalled finger jutting at his own sternum. His eyes hang like dim running lights on a muscle car, luminescent and symmetrically angled in a face crunched with irritation, "How asinine and conceited to think you are nothing more than a blight upon their order. Amend your path or I'll do Altissimo the honor of removing *you*, permanently."
The glaring orange scowl beats down on the woman. It appears she isn't very good at making friends. I can feel the oppression of his power expanding like steel in the sun. He is clean as far as Ashlen's direct involvement. And he'd definitely be a tough one in combat. If I must confront him, I need him isolated.
"You wouldn't…" the woman begins to lose her footing, the confidence melting from her, "Christina would have your-"
"Use your gift foolish woman, do you think I give a damn!" the man snarls his reproach and she takes a wide reflexive step back, "I have no allegiance to your house, only to honor my debts and you're not a part of that. Now banish yourself and *those accursed herbs* from my presence, before *I* do!"
The woman cowers back, spacing herself from the fuming male as he blasts her with the threat of his strength.
Her shaded gawk contorts into anger, but she doesn't doesn't throw in a last word or step up to the man. She spins on indignant heels with a hiss, leering red orbs at him from an angle, careful not to show her back to him.
My eyes are glued to the lady in robes as she yields, storming off. I mirror her, feet in lockstep as I follow.
I feel the animosity kindling and eating at my rationality again. It's like orange coals, ready to grapple oxygen and spring forward with a blaze of blue flames. My hunger for retribution is grumbling and insatiable. Ashlen's scent is burning my nose and enraging me, barely kept under wraps as I silently stalk.
'I'll make her hurt.'
The woman begins to mutter to herself, spitting out curses in sharp staccatos.
"Arrogant prick," she huffs, kicking a branch that splits in half, flying in opposing directions.
I change my course, closing the negative space, coming at her diagonally. I scarcely take a breath as I approach from behind, wholly focused on her neck which I'll wrap my right arm around to strangle and snap.
What's one more woman for the kill count?
I'm close now, the current of her power is tangible. I can't keep the blood thirsty thoughts at bay. I want to watch the terror well in her eyes as she realizes her grave mistake in taking what's *mine*, the death certificate she signed by harming *her*.
The woman stops and hunches on the defensive. I've been discovered.
I react, charging at her. My arm hooks for her neck to sweep her downward. I catch a menacing circle of scarlet peek over the cup of her hood.
A faint "Ha," of audible shock disperses from a fanged mouth. Short strands of hairs reach out from the hood and into the wind.
She ducks with a breathy hiss, fanning her leg wide to trip me. I leap, dodging the foot and ariel over the crouching girl, whipping claws for her the void of her hood. A sharp animal cry seizes the dark as my nails connect, sinking into something solid and tearing upward before she lurches back.
I pivot on the landing, digging an extended foot and switching directions to spring. She snarls, wheeling in misdirection like slick soap across my chest and out of my grip. I gather a fist full of her cloak to reel her back but she unfastens the claps in a singular motion. The cape flutters empty like a magician's disappearing act and her harpy-like frame twirls out of range.
I spit out a snarl and toss the cloak aside, marking her as I circle. Her irises shine like racoon eyes reflecting light streams, her pose resembles a praying mantis reared to thrash. She's slippery but she can only avoid what's coming for so long. I aim to back her into a wall of veiny trees.
Her eyes follow with a jagged sneer, two fresh streaks bead across the brunette's cheek and right brow where I sliced into her face. I barely missed her eye.
"You're too late," she juts out an arrogant chin and I zig zag to block her against the tightly woven shrubs.
She anticipates the irregular maneuver, running head on into my zig, reading my attempt to juke. She jabs at me, a surprising flicker of pain as ice water injects into my veins. She stabs a piece of silver deep into my biceps tissue like a knife sinking through bed sheets.
I swirl around in the gravel, her pixie cut snapping like the end of a rag in the wind as she jolts away from my reflexive grab for her face. A tornado of leaves kicks up a heavy dust devil from our brief exchange.
I growl at her in annoyance, baring fangs. If she's going to play dirty and fiddle around with silver weapons, then I'll use those valuable seconds to punish.
I tear out the weapon without looking, flinging it into the brush like a Frisbee. I ignore the stinging gash in my muscles and finger tendons, my anger numbs the wounds.
"Where is she," I demand through the low distortion of a growl. My eyes are burning with the need to rip out her throat.
She flashes her fangs, "How sad and stupid you are. You shouldn't have come."
I lunge before the sentence is finished, arms stretched to tackle her down.
Both of her arms shoot out vertically and slam back like a vulture spreading its wings, slapping to prevent my hold then whirling for the counter grip.
She locks my arms, twisting them in hers like a pretzel. I thrust forward before she can start crumbling my bones with pressure, anchoring teeth into her shoulder as she cries out.
We roll in a chaotic blizzard of foliage. She yowls, unraveling herself, nails shredding into the sides of my face like a swarm of bees, scratching at my eyes.
I hiss tearing my face from her shoulder, taking a hunk of sinew with while she screeches and rear back for another strike. There's a sharp crack, my vision flashes with a lightning streak. I mash the flat of her forehead with mine.
My arms surge forward like whips before the dark spots clear, forearms shoving to pin her down. My hands scramble where her shoulder meets her neck, knuckles sealing the pressure points in a nutcracker chock. I curl and push into the side of her jugular and collarbone. She would have blacked out if she had a pulse.
I push my weight down, snarling and spitting into her face as bones start to crunch, muscles and arteries misaligning, her fish mouth gasping empty.
"Where is she!" I shout, eyes lighting as I attempt to dominate her with 'control'.
She resists, eyes too erratic for contact. Her ankles hook around my gut, using my own weight against me and flipping me overhead. Two calculated palms beat at my chest aiding the toss.
We scuttle again, she's gained the upper hand. I struggle to keep her off and get back on my feet all while she continuously knocks me down. She's unrelenting, springing on all chances to restrain. I cut off her openings but fail to get back on my feet.
A palm crunches into my nose. I grunt from the whiplash and blink as my head hits a smattering of stones. She takes advantage of the brief stun, standing above with a leg extended in a high kick, heel tipped up and ready to carreen down onto my exposed face with an ax stomp.
A whoosh of air flits as I roll, foot barely missing my eye socket and smiting the ground. A large dent spiderwebs, splitting the earth, clots and rocks spray in pieces.
She leaps onto my back as I attempt to scramble upright. Vicious bleating spews from behind teeth as claws rake my shoulder blades and upper spine.
I roar, reaching behind, grabbing the back of her head and hucking her over my shoulder. I tear through hair and skin as I send her upside down into a boulder.
"Ack!" She coughs out a gasp. Her body crumples into the giant rock as it shudders.
I tackle her before she can recover sending my primed fist into her cheekbone and shattering it.
She screams, nails jabbing to gouge out my eye. I dodge and retaliate with a crunch, razor canines clamping until I feel her wrist snap like a twig.
Her shriek makes my ears ring as she hammers a good fist wildly, punching my left side and ripping out hair. I'm fanatic by the taste of her blood, I increase the pressure of the bite.
I play tug of war with her hand, flipping my head to force it off. A shrill sound of torment blares into the fog, echoing and shaking the dying leaves on trees. My demon's enthralled with the sound of flesh ripping in two. I'm distracted by its re-emergence not wanting to lose it now.
My ribs crunch as I feel two battering rams pound into my stomach and stumble back.
"Do you know who I am!" The woman hollars. Fury apparent as another foot smashes into my face. My head whirls in a one-eighty sending me fumbling on all fours and hacking. Blood is drenching my mouth, both hers and mine.
"Do you know what order you meddle with! I am under Thorn order. The call of Altissimo!"
The blunt tip of a foot curls into my ribs like an icepick again, making me sputter up more blood as I flip onto my back.
She's on top of me, two red lava rings dripping from the clouds as she backhands my jaw.
She hisses, "You will pay dearly for challenging me!"
I groan as she slaps me again. I make an attempt for her throat, stretching out my palm but she bats it away and pins it. I retch as she grinds a knee into my gut then continues to batter me with manic assaults.
I'm barely able to defend, she's trying for an opening to snap a limb clean off.
'Is it true? Have I become weak? Does it all end here?'
The attacker finds the opening, the clean kick scrambles my hazy thoughts. I blink dizzily as she takes her time, pleased as punch while my vision swims. She gloats with her poise, believing she's won.
In disorientation, I spy a second woman, looking down in disgust over the shoulder of the burnette. Betsy crosses her arms disapprovingly. What is she doing here? She's dead.
The woman's nails dig into my flesh and move in a twist meant to hurt. I wince and jerk to lob her off but I'm in a really bad spot now. She doesn't seem to notice Betsy.
"How did you become so weak?" Betsy scorns, "And now you'll both be joining me. What a waste."
'Both?' The disorientation is replaced by fear. 'If you lose Ashlen's dead! Get up! *Get up!*'
Betsy's gone and only the shiny fanged stranger looms over for the final strike.
She barks, "The girl will meet you in hell!"
She descends for my throat to tear my carotid free. A growl rips loose from my chest as the bestial part snaps into place. The feral animal explodes back to life, no longer tolerating suppression.
I jerk my left side with untapped force, bucking her sideways, sending an elbow into her neck. She hurls away with a guttural gag.
I'm on her, throwing my arms around her waist, crushing her ribcage, about to shake her like a dog and maul the woman until all her limbs shatter and break off. I wheel her around in the fit of unfiltered rage into the closest object, smearing her against the front of it.
My fingers tangle into her short hair at her nape, pulling back and slamming her face into a massive pine tree. I repeat, spittle and blood falling as I bellow incomprehensively.
She gargles on fluid, fingers peeling into my arm trying to get me to stop but it makes me all the more crazed. I bash her into the trunk faster, harder.
One slender leg kicks back and I stomp in the calf, snapping the bones as her shrieks crack and rise shrill.
I beat her over and over until the old bark falls away in a naked oval, leaving pale wood and splatters of dark fluid. Her screams become raspy moans.
I yank her around by the hair to face me. I'm breathing fast and snarling through clenched fangs, hardly thinking, frenzied. My eyes feel hot as hell fire as they rain down on her mangled features, bloodied and swollen, her cheekbones and bridge smashed in and bent.
"You tell me where she is, now!" I hollar.
"They'll come after you for this," she slurs like her tongue is missing a chunk, her one good eye unfocused and wavering, "They'll destroy you-"
I slam a palm on her shoulder and squeeze until bones pop. She screams again as I grind my teeth.
"You think I give a shit!" I roar, "You tell me or you'll beg for me to end you!"
I envision tearing each limb slowly from the socket as I interrogate, ripping her open like a Christmas present and tossing her entrails over my shoulder in ribbons until I get what I want.
I'll tear a hole through hell if that's what it takes!
Her eyes grow wild, the smashed one showing a hint of white. She starts to squirm and jerk about, squealing, "No, no! You can't!"
"Talk," my teeth clench so tightly the word is more animal than English.
She whimpers then sucks in a gravelly elongated gasp.
A bright spark like a piece of the sun materializes and erupts like a Roman candle between us. I'd believe a flash grenade was dropped perfectly below my chin. The thing detonates into a burst of blinding light. The heat is immense, blowing me back in a compact explosion.
The woman and I break apart from the force of it. I slam into the dirt and somersault backwards, trampled by the shockwave. I grunt, wincing as I'm battered by the sandstorm of disarray.
I shield my singed face and burning eyes with the crook of my arm as I curl into a ball.