Page 57 of Hunted By Them

This night wasn’t like the others. This one carried an edge sharpened for her.

Sage hadn’t moved when we let Connor go, and he took off running. She stood still at the clearing’s edge, arms at her sides, watching us through the veil of shadows that the mask provided. No fear left in her eyes. Just hunger.

I had made the mask weeks ago, not knowing its purpose until I met her. White bone that I’d carved leaner than ours. Not branching like the Elk, not heavy like the Buck, not twisted like the Caribou. This one bore two sharp, singular antlers, each spiking upward like weapons that had never broken. The mask of the Spike-Horn Deer.

She was always meant to be one of us.

Connor screamed somewhere deeper in the woods, his voice desperate as he yelled for help, but there was no help here.

“It’s time,” I announced, and the Elk and Caribou took off, disappearing into the thick trees. I reached out, brushing my claws against the mask she wore. “Now run with us. Claim your new life.”

She nodded, and I smiled as I took off running with Sweet Daisy by my side. She was light on her feet and so sure-footed that I would’ve said she’d done this her whole life. We were nothing more than four shadows racing through the trees. Buck, Elk, Caribou, and the Spike-Horn.

We didn’t stalk her. We ran with her. Sage’s strides matched mine, strong and exultant. The ground blurred beneath us, fallen logs and trees dodged by instinct. Every breath she took sounded like a promise. My Sweet Daisy wasn’t following our rhythm. She was weaving her own into ours.

Up ahead, Connor crashed through the brush. He was loud and obnoxious even when he ran, as if demanding the trees move for him. He thought money meant safety. He thought being loud meant he was the toughest in the room. He was wrong. Raising my nose in the air, I sniffed and smelled his panic. It stank, acrid and easy to track even without the crashing sounds. An elephant would’ve made less noise.

Jaxon angled left, letting his laughter thread through the trees like a banshee’s call. Connor whipped his head in Jaxon’s direction, veering right. Dash surged forward, silent until the last second. I pictured the smile on his face as he purposely stepped on a branch. The snapping sound was so close to our prey that it sent Connor lurching back toward the center of the makeshift trail.

He didn’t know it, but he was nothing more than cattle being herded where we wanted him to go. Sweet Daisy and I stayed behind, forcing Connor to keep moving forward while Dash and Jaxon herded him.

Sweet Daisy sprinted beside me, her pace never faltering and staying perfectly even with mine, like she knew what we were doing without being told. I sensed the wild energy flowing off of her. As much as I wanted Connor’s blood, the idea of tackling her to the ground and fucking her here in the middle of the ferns, under the stars, for all the animals to see…to let all the other wild things know who she belonged to was strong in my mind.

I shuddered and pushed the thought to the side for now.

“Feel it?” I growled between breaths, just for her. “The hunt in your blood?”

“Yes,” she growled back, and that one word held so much emotion.

Connor burst through the trees toward a shallow ravine. He started down, slipping on slick stones and trying to scramble to his feet, but falling and sliding on his ass. He screamed as he hit the slick mud from the heavy rains. There was a raw edge of hopelessness breaking through his bravado. The forest swallowed the sound, like it was laughing at him.

We boxed him in tighter and drove him up the other side of the ravine, where we would drive him into a corner of no escape.

Jaxon, on Connor’s left, antlers glinting white in the moonlight, darted toward him and slashed at his arm. Connor screamed as the claws easily cut through his clothes and skin. Jaxon retreated, allowing Dash to leap toward Connor from the right and cut the back of his leg. He had an executioner’s precision. Connor wailed, blood soaking through the back of his jeans and down his leg.

My hands flexed, wanting my turn.

The clouds broke and let the moonlight shine down just as my Sweet Daisy stepped into the opening. The Spike-Horn mask glowed bright against the dark night. Her arms pumped and her legs pushed hard.

Fuck she was gorgeous.

Connor reached the top and almost fell as his knees buckled. He looked back in a blind panic.

“No…no, please…” he gasped as we reached the top together.

We stepped up onto the flat ground like demons crawling out of hell. A blood trail followed Connor as he ran to the right. He had a distinct limp to his stride now, and I smirked.

We moved as one, following him. The terror was thick in the air as he screamed like that would somehow help. Nothing helped when you were chosen by the shadows of the forest.

The first cut of the chase had been ours. The final would be hers.

It didn’t take very long for Connor to realize his error. We stepped into the clearing, blocking the only way out. We watched as Connor tried to scramble up the sides of the smooth stone surrounding the area.

“Help, someone help me! Please.”

We stepped forward, our boots silent. Connor looked back and screamed hysterically, nails clawing at the immovable wall.

Sweet Daisy lunged without hesitation, but with clarity of the situation, only scaring Connor before retreating. He was still dangerous. Like any cornered animal, you needed to be careful. She pressed him further into one of the corners. For once, he was the prey rather than the predator, and his screams shredded the night.