Novel & Cerita Blood Hunt #5

The blue light intensify right at his very eyes and my gaze couldn't take off and receive such blinding blue light, traced more than my mind can hold. Then a fantastic collision just clash before our very eyes. One is that of blue, and one is a strange white that is coming from inside of me. I thought while my heart is shaken, “I don't know what you mean by calling me your luna, Alarkin. But you understimated this curse huntress. How can I the one to forget this very night?” The moment he regain the clarity, I aready disappear without trace. That after I certain for the very important thing, and I can only sigh the conflicted beat in my heart.

I suck in the air as everything that'll tell I'll see another second rely on it. By the time I am back to normalcy, I look at my front to see the sport car, crashed into almost nothing. There's been an explosion from the collision that I didn't even notice until now. I can't find Olivia. Not far from me is a dead Hunter, his skin pale. If I am not mistaken, and with my knowledge of the Vampires, of course, I think he has been drained. Right after, I hear a moan, coming from my other side. It is Olivia. She's just finished drinking the blood, draining, another Hunter.

Giselle sighs, massaging her temples. There's no other way she could survive this, so she shuts her textbook, organized her writing materials inside her pencil cases, and placed it all inside her bag. Giselle pulled her iced coffee and started sipping on it. She runs her finger on the leaked water from her cold cup. "No, I don't believe in them. We're no longer twelve," Giselle ridicules, rolling her eyes in absurdity. Her eyes trailed to her surroundings while Yvonne began to tackle more about bloodsucking demons until Giselle found something that caught her attention. Mr. Mercado placed newly made tiramisu crepe cake, the ones that she loves.

He punched in a twelve-digit code that hadn't been used in a generation. "Wait, Abram—" Silas grabbed his arm. "You call the Council, there’s no walking it back. A Blood Hunt means total annihilation. No prisoners. No survivors. Just red snow." Abram shook him off. His thumb hovered over the call button. "That's exactly what I'm counting on." The line clicked. Static crackled, a rhythmic hiss that sounded like a heartbeat. "State the grievance," a voice boomed. It wasn't human. It was a low-frequency growl that vibrated the glass in Abram's hand.

It wasn’t meant for mortals, or even for werewolves like me. The air shifted, growing colder, heavier. The forest seemed to hold its breath. Even the night creatures had gone silent, as though they knew something terrible was about to happen. I drew the dagger and sliced my palm, the pain sharp and immediate. Blood welled up, dark and red, spilling into the waiting bowl. I added Paige’s blood next, mingling our life forces together. The moment the two drops touched, a low hum vibrated through the ground beneath my feet.

She felt like it was tearing her stomach in half. She saw the man lying there, zoomed in on his neck, and saw the blood pulsing within it. At that moment, she wanted more than anything to descend on him, to feed. The feeling was beyond an urge—it was more like a command. Her body screamed at her to do it. It took every last ounce of Caitlin’s will to look away. She would rather die of starvation than hurt another human. She looked around and wondered if there were a forest near here, a place she could hunt. While she had seen some occasional dirt roads and parks in the city, she hadn’t seen anything like a forest.

Detective Ashton was one of the few people who knew Alex's half-blood identity. Ashton raised his eyebrows casually, "You're more cautious than I thought. But don't worry, I mean you no harm. I assumed you came because of the strange things that have been happening in this town lately!" Alex looked at the cigarette smoke coming from Ashton's mouth, "We can talk about this in a more comfortable room." They both sat in a lounge downstairs in the hotel. Ashton tells him that there have been murders in this town and he suspects supernatural forces are involved. This was evident from the identical bite marks on each victim's neck.

“I see. And when you find this thing you’re looking for, then what?” “Oh, then you can have her back, of course. Assuming you make it out alive, that is. You know, I’m not even sure you’re killable. Bullet to the back, misses your spine by inches and somehow, here you stand, healthy as a horse. Hunted by your own blood for five years and still, I mean, look at you! Perfect shape.”

I stared down at her—blood on her sleeve, gunpowder on her skin, the dog she loved still alive at her feet, the man who had once been only a neighbor now willing to burn the entire East Coast before he let another threat touch her. I covered her hands with mine. “Then we finish it,” I said. “Before the hour is up.” Outside, the sun finally cleared the compound walls. Inside, the last hunt of the night was already being planned and somewhere in the city, four pure-blood captains who thought they still had leverage were about to learn that the half-blood they had tried to erase no longer played by any rules but his own.

He only needed Madeline. Someone screamed, and there was such roaring in his head that he jerked back, covering his ears. Hunt turned, his breaths sharp as he pushed the door, and the smell of blood hit him first. On the foot of the dias, his father laid on his belly, blood pooling beneath him, and not too far, in the arms of his mate, his mother was… Hunt stumbled a step forward. Perhaps the blood didn’t shake him as hard as the sight of Madeline holding the dagger that stopped his mother’s heart—the dagger that was still in her unmoving chest. His mother’s pale eyes stared at the chandelier, unseeing. Gone.