The Witch Hunter (7 page)

One of the wolves was right on his heels, snapping at every opportunity looking for its mark. If it bit him, he was probably a goner. The river was directly ahead, along with a sharp drop that plummeted into the muddy bank below. If he was lucky, he would give this wolf a surprise.

Breaking through the trees, he almost missed the edge, jumping at the last minute. Barely clearing the breadth of the river, he threw his weight forward, grasping a low branch. There was a sharp yelp behind him as the wolf desperately tried to slow itself, but the drop had appeared too suddenly. It fell in a shower of decaying leaves and earth, landing heavily into the thick mud below. Zac hauled himself up onto the high bank on the opposite side and glanced down one more time. The werewolf was well and truly stuck in the bank below, struggling to free itself from the sucking mud with no avail. If it changed back into human form, his hulking body would weigh him down more.

Zac sneered at the pathetic sight and turned back towards the manor, where he knew Sam and Liz would be circling back to. Running as fast as he could through the trees, he caught the scent of another wolf ahead. As it lunged for him out of the shadows, he jumped, grasping a limb above him causing the wolf to sail past harmlessly. His feet had barely touched the ground before he'd turned, grasping a fallen branch like a baseball bat. The wolf had scrambled back around and faced him, its eyes reflecting in the moonlight. It advanced slowly on him, snarling. Incisors that had to be at least four inches long, dripped with saliva, ready to tear through his flesh.

Suddenly, the wolf lunged, jaws widened to tear through his jugular. The branch swung and connected with the furry flesh of the wolf with a sickening thud, sending it crashing back through the trees, howling in rage as much as pain. The forest fell into silence as its limp body came to rest somewhere in the darkness. 

Pausing only a second, Zac dumped the branch and continued on to the rendezvous point. 

Coming up on the clearing he caught sight of Sam and Liz, surrounded by four wolves. As the lead wolf tensed to attack, Zac was on it, crushing its ribs in a vice grip around its gut. Tossing the wounded wolf aside, he put himself in between the vampires and their immediate danger.

Crouching down so he could look the four wolves directly in the eye, he sneered, "Here puppy, puppy, puppy."

Then there were five wolves, the one Zac had embedded in the mud, nowhere to be seen. Amber eyes flashed in the darkness as they fixated on their prey. Suddenly, one wolf feigned an attack from Zac's left, distracting him long enough so a large rusty colored wolf could launch itself at his jugular from the right.

Knocked flat on his back, he roared in anger, grasping the neck of the werewolf, using all of his strength to keep its snapping jaws at a distance. He quite liked his face; it would be counterproductive if it were ripped off.

Abruptly, the wolf was torn from him, a ear piercing yelp as bones crunched. Scrambling to his feet, he hissed as he laid eyes on an unfamiliar vampire standing over the twisted remains of the werewolf that had been an inch from his face moments before.

The clearing had fallen silent, the wolves falling back to a safe distance, seemingly to regroup. The vampire silently assessed them before glancing back to the vampires behind him. 

"This one has been marked," the vampire snarled at the assembled wolves, pointing to Zac. "He does not die until it is appointed." He kicked the remains of the wolf towards the pack.

The wolves backed away, snarling, one of their number grasping the body of their fallen comrade by the rough of the neck, dragging him with them. 

Then the three vampires were alone with the intruder, the one obviously sent by Katrin. He turned and sneered at them with contempt, like they were an annoyance he'd rather deal with the same way. Blatantly assessing Zac, he gave him a look that dismissed him as harmless. Turning without a word, he disappeared into the darkness of the forest.

"Well, it's safe to say that we're being watched," Zac announced to no one in particular, annoyed that the fight had been ended prematurely.

"Do you think they know about, you know?" asked Liz quietly.

"No," Zac replied, still staring in the direction the vampire had disappeared. "If they knew, then this would have ended differently."

They stood in silence for a few minutes as if waiting for the shadows themselves to come and fight them. A mournful howl in the direction of the river broke the heavy silence, making Zac smirk in satisfaction. 

"Let's go home," Sam sighed and took Liz's hand, leading her away, Zac still staring after the unknown vampire.

They hadn't solved anything with the wolves, but maybe now they would be spooked enough not to try anything. Only time would tell if they could venture out into the forest without incident. But he was more worried about Katrin. Until now her threat had seemed empty. Life had continued as normal, the ramifications of staking Alistair non-existent. Zac sighed uneasily. Perhaps he didn't know as much as he thought he did. He took his deflated ego and disappeared into the darkness.

CHAPTER FIVE

D
rawing her first breath burnt her disused lungs and she coughed uncontrollably. Sitting bolt upright in a panic, she looked around herself wildly, disorientated. 
Where the hell am I?
 Her thoughts scrambled to make sense of her situation, her heart hammering wildly against her chest.

The air was dark and damp around her, thick with the scent of earth. Slowly her murky vision cleared and she realized she was in the cave where she escaped the unbearable draw of killing. The reek of blood had stained the fields above and she couldn't take it anymore. The aura of death had driven her to the precipice and the thought of killing a human for pleasure abhorred her. Now, she began to remember.

My name is Aya. I escaped to this cave for the long sleep. To clear my self of the urge to kill. To let an age past before I can walk the earth again. I am below the fields of southern America. Ashburton, Louisiana. The haze in her mind began to clear and she stood carefully, stretching her disused muscles. Casting her mind above, she felt nothing but silence. Aya was a vampire, but she had been granted with other skills besides. She could sense emotions, which was a blessing and a curse. Recalling the battlefields above, she shuddered. Too much concentrated emotion always threatened to overwhelm her and she had to be careful. War was enough to drive her mad if she didn't protect herself. The American Civil War. She was glad she slept through that. 

She brushed the dust and cobwebs from herself and ran her fingers through her long black hair. She really had to remember to cover herself with something next time. Who knew what had lived in here with her over the years. She had to find her way outside, find something to eat and clean herself before exploring the world above. She smiled at the thought of going outside; she was starving. How long
had
she been sleeping?

She made her way from the cave down the passageway she barely remembered. She had entered this place so abruptly, never taking in her surroundings fully. It was hidden from the outside, of that she was sure. Still at the mouth of the cave was the heavy rock she had placed to block the small hole that served as the cave entrance. With no effort, she pulled the boulder aside and light poured through the opening along with the fresh crisp air of the world. The sun was still climbing in the sky as she emerged into the day. Blinking furiously, she held up her hand, shielding herself from the glare as her eyes became accustomed. 

The land outside the cave had changed somewhat; the vegetation was thicker and a little wilder than she remembered. A short way off she caught the glimpse of light reflecting off water and recalled a lake being there. Cautiously, she made her way towards it, ready to catch the scent of any nearby animal. She was bound to have more luck closer to the waters edge. Chance happened that she came across a lone deer grazing, separated from its mates. Once Aya had stated her hunger, she went for a semblance of a bath.

The water of the lake was dark, the surface lightly rippled by the light breeze that was flowing from the east. Aya, content that no one was around for at least a mile, peeled off her dress and tiptoed into the lake, shivering at the cold. She washed herself with the gravel that littered the bottom, rinsed her waist length hair as best she could and scrubbed her dress. She wondered how the times had changed, and if her clothing would pass until she found more. She was still very 1800s, but at least she had some decent boots under her cream shift dress.

Completely naked, she sat on the shore amongst some weeping willows that were still devoid of their leaves and ran her fingers through the drops of light that spilled between the curled branches. Her clothes lay on some rocks nearby, drying in the early morning sun. By the air around her, she guessed it was late winter, early spring, though the temperature didn't bother her much. A vampire in the sun was an abnormality, but she wasn't a typical vampire. 

Musing about her awakening as her mind became clearer, she remembered a dream. And she rarely dreamed while she was asleep. She was walking through a forest, thick with ancient trees, covered in moss and vines. Lush and the purest green she had ever seen in all her long years. She reached out and laid her hands against the trunk of the closest tree, listening to the sounds around her. She was vaguely aware of a humming growing around her that grew into a voice chanting. "Blood of my blood..." it was the faintest whisper and she almost didn't catch the words. Looking about her, her blue eyes sparkling in the dappled sunlight, she gasped. 

Aya jerked her head up, suddenly awake. She had dozed again at the memory of the dream. Someone had called her, she was now certain of it, and they had used an ancient spell to do so. There was some power at play here and she had to be all the more careful. She could be walking into a trap if she wasn't prepared; others hunted her as she hunted them. Who had called her and what did they need her for? These were the questions she needed answered, and for that she needed to find the spot where the spell was cast. Only then could she begin to track for other answers. 

Pulling her clothes on, she began to wander the shore of the lake, sending her mind abroad to feel out the land ahead. From the abruptness of her awakening she gathered that the spell was cast nearby, perhaps within a few miles. Someone from the village perhaps? She wondered what had become of the people she had befriended in her short time here during the Civil War. Lived and died, presumably.

It wasn't long before she felt the faint emanations of power from the forest. Wandering lithely through the trees, she came across a graveyard; so overgrown it seemed to seldom hold visitors. The headstones were spotted with yellow lichens and green moss, some dating back to the early part of the 1700s. The few family crypts were in a sorry state, broken windows and doors that had become unhinged and rusted. Aya didn't have much respect for the dead, the neglect not bothering her that much. She much preferred how nature had claimed this place back.

At the centre of the site, an area had been cleared, the earth churned up suggesting it had been done recently. Dead leaves and twigs swept to one side, fallen branches and weeds removed. The ground underneath was bare, with the faint traces of footprints and indentations where objects had lay. Aya noted the markings bore the resemblance to a circle of power, the corners of a pentagram. Witches work. 

At the very centre, she felt the residue of power she had noticed from the lake. Kneeling, she felt the disturbed earth with long pale fingers. Yes, this was where it had happened. Aya heard the subdued humming she recognized from her dream. A potion was made here and it had had blood in it. Potions never sung in such a way, perhaps it was the calling card the spell had left, or the blood itself. 

It was strange that blood would make this sound, or rather
singing
. It was like a song was being performed only for her to hear. She had never experienced the like of it before. Standing she brushed her hands together to remove the dirt and smirked. Find the source of the song and there her caller would be. One and the same. 

On her way to the town, Aya came across a farmhouse. Inside, she heard the movements of the humans who dwelt there. At the rear, she found a clothesline where a young woman was pulling in the now dry laundry. A man's voice called her from inside and she disappeared into the house. Aya noticed what the woman was wearing, a white shirt with no collar or sleeves and dark colored trousers... Silently, she pulled similar clothing from the line and disappeared, the houses occupants none the wiser.