The Hunter Novels & Stories

she hissed, her amber eyes glowing, burning “You have nothing here. You’re a murderer.” The floor seemed to drop beneath me. My stomach twisted violently. “No,” I choked, shaking my head. “I-I didn’t know. They never told me who-” Hessa’s laugh was bitter, sharp. “You didn’t care to know. You’re an assassin of Cross. Don’t pretend you’re blind. You were trained to kill us. You are a Hunter. And hunters are what werewolves hate the most.” Hunter. The name I’d heard whispered in stories, savior of humankind, they said. Killers of supernaturals… My chest heaved.

Reyna Andrews • It was a quite sudden question when I ask that to Adrian. I suspected he was different when he asked me those questions. I wasn't paranoid or anything about him. It's just that he somehow smells different than a regular human being. And I wanted to know if he was a werewolf or just a plain human that believes in the supernatural. He shook his head. "No, I'm a Hunter. A Hunter who kills werewolves." "Oh..." I say, awkwardly and silently...

The hunters knew that they were getting close. They crept forward, their weapons at the ready, until they caught sight of Tate standing in a clearing, his massive form silhouetted against the moonlit sky. Without hesitation, the hunters opened fire, their silver bullets ripping through the air and striking Tate with deadly force. Tate came to realize at that moment that he had been on a bad path for so long and barely escaped from the hunters. He went back home to his brother, and Marcus gladly allowed him take back his place knowing that he really had changed.

AVA Without another word, Hunter moves swiftly away from the lockers, passing by his two friends whose names I'm guessing are Preston and Gomorey. They had been gawking at Hunter with a mischievous grin playing on their lips, and Hunter didn't waste a chance to shoot them both with his penetrating glare. I noticed their pupils retrench as they stared at him, meaning they were conversing with each other through mindlink. It was brief, lasting a couple of seconds before Hunter turns left and straight down the now-empty halls.

Fucking damn glasses that aren't with me. Hunter speaks his fluent French, looking now at the camera as a reporter sits beside him. I look at the people around the room, and they are all immaculate in their uniforms with the television station's logo. There are three men with cameras, two women taking notes with oversized headphones to catch what Hunter discusses, a man at a computer, two photographers, the reporter, and someone who looks like the director to me as he quietly watches, and the another reporter facing the monitor.

Covering up the hole with some moss, she dusted off her dress and hurried home, her thoughts of the Hunters exposing her long gone. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "They're here! The Hunters have arrived!" The cries of the young boys ran through the whole village, many men and women coming out to see the sight. Liam riding in front, followed by nine other men, all on horseback. On the back of Liam's horse was the dead carcass of a mountain lion, and his quiver held an unusual number of arrows. Instead of the standard twelve like the rest of the men in his party, it held 15, two from the archer who had shot the beast earlier, as

INTRODUCTION My name is Kacela. I am twenty-one years old, and I am a werewolf hunter. And I have a secret. I am a werewolf. I was raised in a family of werewolf hunters. My father, mother and older brother are all werewolf hunters, and I made my first kill when I was twelve years old. I am trained in weaponry and hand to hand combat as well as other skills that I use in the field, like tracking. I’m also exceptionally good at finding werewolves who don’t want to be found using a variety of techniques, but mostly common sense and computer skills. It’s a family business and it keeps us well employed and financially stable. We move around a lot because of it.

He is standing with his back turned against me, his eyes trained on the other person. I focus on him instead. He looks stunned, his eyes widened, and his lips parted. “That is impossible,” he mutters, shaking his head. “That veil hasn’t been breached in years. Who could have…” “Only one breed,” he drawls. “Hunters.” “Shit!” I didn’t think they were going to figure it out so fast. My breath hitches in my throat when he angles his head a fraction, when everything suddenly stops, as if he can sense me.

“So, let me get this straight, you have no idea what she smelled like but it was distracting enough that her partner managed to get a clean shot on you.” My nails ripped into the arm of my chair and I cursed at losing another chair. I had been going through them like crazy this last week. The older hunter had snuck up on me. The girl with her lithe build and plump lips had drawn my attention and the sound of the shot was what drew me from her siren’s call. If I’d been mortal, I wouldn’t have been able to move fast enough to avoid being shot in the heart. I knew well enough that I was outmatched at that moment and I’d slipped into the darkness of the woods.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even pause as with a few well placed bullets he neutralizes the targets before him to focus on the new enemies. Hunter is untouchable, moving at lightning speed. He’s not so much a soldier as he is a force of nature, a storm that has come to crash down the evil intentions of the men who stole his family away. It is both the most beautiful and terrifying thing I have ever seen in my life. As the last man falls, and the man I love stands victorious, blood dripping from his suit, part of me wants to rush to him, to hold him in my arms and cry.