Chapter 4. The Predator Who Observes First

Chapter 4. The Predator Who Observes First

Selene

I did not go back to sector twelve.

The townhouse still had a hold on me. It was not because of the blood or the bodies, it was the mark that was carved into it.

The mark was carved cleanly and too deliberately. This was not something that was done out of hunger or chaos. This was a message.

I told myself that I was just retracing my steps and verifying the perimeter that I was doing a sweep before I made my report.

This was a lie and it did not take me long to realize that.

I was not done yet so I stayed in the district.

As the night got darker the streetlights made shadows on the pavement.

The pavement was empty, it seemed like it had already forgotten the people who were walking on it just hours before.

I climbed up to the rooftop without thinking about it, my boots finding the rusted fire escape rungs and my hands pulling me up.

From the rooftop I had a view of the street below.

I had the ground, a wide angle and multiple exits.

I had control.

I sat down near the ledge with one knee bent and my posture loose.

I looked like I was just idle, no one ever bothered to look up.

That was the point.

The file in my coat pocket was pressing against my ribs. It felt like a second heartbeat.

There had been three incidents in this area and they all had the same aftermath and the same precision.

There were no witnesses until tonight.

The survivors had said that he did not rush.

He waited, like he wanted me to see him first.

This was not how they usually hunted, It was not how I hunted either.

I let my eyes drift, not focusing on anything for long.

I was looking for patterns and movement.

I saw a taxi driving by, a couple arguing at the corner and a television flickering through a curtain across the street. Everything seemed normal, It was too normal.

Minutes passed, then more minutes passed.

Time seemed to stretch out and it felt like it was pulling me tight.

Then something changed.

It was not a sound exactly.

The city did not go quiet. It changed in some way, a different way.

It was like when someone walks into a room and does not say anything. You can tell they are there.

The air seemed to notice something before I did.

I became still but not in an obvious way.

I did not want to scream that I was alert.

I let my body become still slowly, my breath evening out, and my muscles easing.

I was trying to listen but not with my ears.

I was listening with my instinct.

It started to prickle at the base of my neck, an precise awareness that did not belong to the night I had been watching.

I was not alone. I knew it but I did not turn around yet I scan my surroundings. Amateurs search for things. Hunters wait.

I let the feeling settle in like I was tracing a scent through smoke.

I was trying to figure out the direction, distance and intent of the predator who watched first, the predator who was now watching me.

Nothing came at me quickly, there was no attack. No one was being careless or trying to get too close to me.

 But someone was there.

Much in control.

That did not feel right.

My eyes moved a little looking across the street at the windows on the other side of the building. The streetlights were reflecting off the glass. It was a dull reflection because of the shadows inside the empty rooms.

Then I saw it.

A movement.

It was not obvious.

It was not something that you would notice away.

Something had moved enough to change the way the light was reflecting off the glass.

I did not look at it directly, I just let it stay on the edge of my vision, letting my mind think about it without paying attention to it.

Someone was there.

They were watching me from an angle trying not to be seen.

That was smart.

Too smart.

I moved my weight a little enough to show more of myself to the street. It was a movement, an invitation for someone to notice me but not so obvious that it looked like I was trying too hard.

It was like bait.

If it was one of them they would react. They would always react, even if they were trying to be careful.

I waited.

Nothing happened.

No one jumped at me. No one moved. No one tried to get

It was the same quiet feeling like someone was watching me and waiting.

My jaw got tighter.

Vampires do not wait like that. They do not watch from a distance unless they are getting ready to attack and when they do attack, the air feels different, it feels sharper and thinner.

This felt different.

It felt like someone was thinking about what to do.

Whoever it was they were not acting on instinct.

That made me feel something than fear.

It made me feel like I knew something.

I moved.

Not away from the person yet not closer to them.

Just enough to change the way the rooftop looked behind me. If someone was watching me they would have to move to keep seeing me.

Then I turned around.

Fast.

No warning.

Just a quick movement to catch someone off guard.

For a moment.

I saw him.

He was on the side of the rooftops about twenty meters away standing where the shadows met the broken brick and steel.

He was standing up straight.

Not squatting down. Not hiding.

Just standing there.

Like he had nothing to hide.

The distance should have made it hard to see him but it did not matter. My mind knew what he looked like anyways.

He was tall and he was standing up straight, He was not moving unnecessarily.

His eyes.

They were already looking at me.

Not surprised. Not caught off guard.

Just waiting.

It hit me harder than if someone had physically attacked me.

It was not fear.

It was something else

Our eyes meet, yet the world did not stop, that would have been easier to deal with, instead everything kept moving. I could hear sounds from far away but they did not seem important.

Because his attention was not casual, it was not like a predator looking at its prey.

It was slower, heavier.

Like he had already seen enough to know that I was worth looking at.

I felt heat on the back of my neck not because I was scared or because I had been running.

Because I was being seen, really seen.

I moved my weight getting ready to move, to close the distance, to break whatever this was before it became something I could not control.

He stepped back.

No rush, no hurry.

One precise movement into the shadows behind him.

He was gone.

No sound. No mistake. No trace left behind.

He was just not there anymore.

I did not move.

That was my mistake.

I stood there for one second long, my body frozen in place not because I was scared but because I did not know what to do.

My instincts were trying to catch up, to take control again, to make sense of what had happened.

It did not feel like a threat, It did not feel like I was a target, It did not feel like I was prey.

I did not know what it felt like.

I breathed out slowly, making my muscles relax, making my mind start working, then I moved.

I crossed the rooftop in seconds my boots making any sound as I got to the edge where he had been standing. The space was empty, nothing was out of place. There was no smell to follow.

Nothing.

I looked at the surrounding buildings and the alleys, the fire escapes that went down into the darkness.

He was gone.

Not running away.

Just gone.

My heart beat slower and more precisely. I stood up straight looking at the rooftops again thinking about what had happened frame by frame.

The reflection, the stillness, the eye contact, the way he had not reacted to my bait, the way he had not needed to.

I understood.

I had not caught him off guard neither have I found him, He had been there before I even got onto the roof.

Watching, measuring, choosing the moment when he showed himself.

It was not a mistake.

It was permission, a controlled reveal.

My hand tightened into a fist at my side.

Somewhere, in the dark a predator had looked at me...

I decided I was worth watching first.

The hunt had not changed.

It had just changed shape.

Because now I was the one being watched.