Chapter 5: On The Hunt - Yildiz

“We’re definitely dealing with a sept,” muses Beste.

“Six I’d say, based on the scents I’m picking up. Not counting the decomposing bodies,” I say solemnly. Sanguidae scents are much like everyone else’s, but theirs has a distinct metallic undertone that defines them from other species. We’ve only been in Auckland for thirty minutes, and we’ve already stumbled on another pile of bodies. There has been no attempt to hide the bodies from the public, they’ve just been mutilated and discarded. Left here to rot like trash. I know a blood craze can rob a sanguidae of their humanity, but I’m starting to believe that’s not the case. If even one, let alone all six were in the middle of a craze the body count would be much higher, and given how close we are to people, we’d more than likely hear screaming and a city fleeing in fear.

 “There’s something else I’m noticing,” says Beste.

“What’s that?”

“I can see why the authorities assumed an animal did this. These poor humans were savagely attacked. I can pick up six distinct bite sizes, but the bite on the neck of each victim was made by the same sanguidae,” she says thoughtfully.

“You think one in their sept has declared themself the leader. They take the first bite and let the others fight over the rest of the body,” I say, following her train of thought.

“That’s certainly how it looks.”

“Do you think this leader eats the hearts too?” I quiz.

“Hard to tell,” she sighs.

“The scent is still fresh; they couldn’t have been here more than an hour ago. We should be able to track them easily.”

“Let’s get going then,” she says affirmatively.

We take off at a sprint through the streets of Auckland too fast for any human to see, following the scent of our targets. We’ve made it a good distance when far off to the left I can hear the yelping of a wolf which quickly turns into the sobs of a young man. Beste hears it too, so we come to a stop and listen carefully.

“Please, I’ve never hurt anyone,” the young man’s voice begs.

“You creatures are all abominations. You should be exterminated,” hisses a strong Peruvian accent.

“A venator?” I say in surprise.

“Potentially with a member of the Haere Pack, they’re the closest pack in the area,” says Beste with concern.

“Or a cur. Either way, they need help. You go and handle that. I can handle the sanguidaes,” I encourage.

“Are you sure?” Beste asks with uncertainty.

“I can handle a few sanguidae on my own, and if you don’t hurry that mutolupus might not be alive much longer. Go, before he ends up mounted on someone’s wall,” I say strongly.

Beste gives me a nod and squeezes my shoulder, “Be careful,” she says, then takes off in the direction of the voices.

It’s not easy for me to loathe anyone or anything. I do, however, loathe people who take pleasure in hurting other living beings, and venators and venatrixes are very high on that list. A select group of humans, completely ignorant of their own beginnings, who have taken it upon themselves to eradicate all supernaturals from the face of the earth. It sickens me. In all the cases I’ve come across of a venator or venatrix attack, rarely have I seen one where the victim wasn’t innocent. It angers and disgusts me to my core. I wonder how Beste will handle the situation given we don’t go around killing humans, but she can fill me in on that later, right now I have sanguidaes to find.