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Hunter nodded, rising to his feet. “Fae blood is powerful. In the wrong hands, it can be used to strengthen other supernatural races. Vampires, shifters, witches… all of them.”
“That’s not good. It sounds like the perfect recipe for disaster,” Colby muttered, his tone grim. “You think they were trying to tap into that power? To make themselves stronger?”
Hunter’s jaw tightened. “It’s possible. But there’s something else here. Something we’re missing.”
Before Hunter could say more, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the far side of the chamber. His body tensed, every muscle coiling as his heightened senses went on high alert. He turned slowly, his sharp eyes locking onto the two figures emerging from the shadows—one tall and imposing, the other smaller, cloaked in darkness.
The vampire and the witch—but where were their acolytes?
The vampire stepped forward, his cold, calculating gaze sweeping over the room before settling on Hunter. His lips curled into a cruel smile, revealing the sharp glint of his fangs. The witch stood just behind him, her hood obscuring most of her face, but her lips were moving, her silent chant filling the air with a strange, rhythmic hum.
“Well, well, well,” the vampire sneered, his voice dripping with malice. “Look who’s come back to play.”
Hunter’s eyes narrowed; his disgust evident as he took in the other vampire’s appearance. There was a twisted arrogancein the way the man carried himself, a smug confidence that turned Hunter’s stomach. “What are you? Some kind of cartoon villain? I’m not here to play,” Hunter growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m here to end this.”
The vampire’s smile widened, a dark, mocking laugh escaping his lips. “Now, who’s the cartoon character? End this? Do you hear yourself? Do you think you’re some kind of hero, Hayes? Do you really believe you can stop what’s already in motion?”
Hunter stepped forward, his fists tightened like a predator ready to strike, coiled at his sides. “I know what you’re trying to do. You and that witch. You’re trying to siphon the power of the fae. But it’s not going to happen.”
The vampire’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “You’ve forgotten who you are, Hunter. You’ve forgotten what it means to be one of us.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Hunter snapped, his voice filled with contempt. “I just don’t want any part of it. You’re a parasite, feeding on the destruction of others. I’m nothing like you.”
The vampire’s smile faded, replaced by a sneer of disdain. “You’re exactly like me. You’re a vampire. You drink blood; you kill to survive. Don’t pretend you’re better than me.”
“I have always been better than you and your kind,” Hunter said coldly. “Because I still have a conscience. Something you clearly lost a long time ago.”
The tension in the room thickened, the air crackling with the unspoken threat between the two vampires. Hunter could feel the weight of the magic pulsing from the witch, her silent chanting growing more intense, though her voice remained inaudible. He knew they didn’t have much time. The longer she continued, the more powerful whatever spell she was casting would become.
Colby and his men stood ready, their eyes fixed on the vampire and witch, waiting for the signal to strike. But something about the situation felt wrong to Hunter. It was too easy. The vampire wasn’t fighting back, wasn’t even trying to flee. He was too calm, too confident.
Hunter’s instincts screamed at him to stop, to rethink their approach, but before he could act, Colby’s men surged forward. In a blur of movement, they surrounded the vampire and witch, their shifter forms making quick work of subduing them. The vampire struggled briefly, but he was no match for the combined strength of the shifters. The witch, for all her silent chanting, was restrained just as quickly, her hands bound with magical restraints that glowed faintly in the dim light.
It was over in seconds.
Too fast. Too easy.
Hunter watched the scene unfold, his unease growing with every passing moment. His gaze flicked between the captives, searching for any sign of resistance, any clue as to what was really happening. But the vampire remained calm, almost too calm, his smug smile never wavering. And the witch… her lips were still moving, though her eyes had taken on a distant, glazed look.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Hunter muttered under his breath, his voice tight with suspicion.
Colby, still holding one of the vampire’s arms, glanced at him with a grin. “What are you talking about? We’ve got them.”
Hunter shook his head, his instincts screaming at him to stop, to think. “No. It’s too easy. They’re not fighting hard enough. Where are their acolytes? Them being here alone doesn’t make sense. They had to know we would come for them, and that this was the first place we’d look.”
Colby frowned, glancing at the vampire, who was now completely subdued, his wrists bound with silver shackles. “They’re outnumbered. Of course, they’re not fighting.”
But Hunter wasn’t convinced. Something was off. He could feel it. The witch’s silent chanting, the symbols on the walls, the vampire’s smug smile—it all pointed to something more than just a simple capture. They had been led here, and now they had walked straight into whatever trap had been set.
“Get them out of here,” Hunter ordered, his voice rough with urgency. “We need to move. Now.”
Colby shot him a look of confusion but didn’t argue. He signaled his men, and they began dragging the vampire and witch toward the exit, their movements brisk but controlled. Hunter followed behind, his eyes never leaving the captives, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring, ready to snap.
As they made their way out of the cavern and into the open air, the tension in Hunter’s chest only grew. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones, in the way the witch’s lips kept moving, her eyes still distant, still unfocused. It was like she was in a trance, her body present but her mind elsewhere.
The cool night air did nothing to dispel the weight pressing down on him. They began the journey back to the abbey, Colby walking beside him, the vampire and witch secured by his men.
“You’re too wound up, Hunter,” Colby said, his voice trying to cut through the tension. “We got them. It’s over.”
