The Hunt

    I move through the overgrowth…and though I normally tread silently the deadwood and dead leaves make crunching noises under my moccasin boots as I tread over them.  It is a warm July evening, and the woods are dark, lit only by the silver light of the moon. 

    The Hunters had been stalking us for several nights, unaware that we had known they were near, and that myself and Gabriel had been watching, listening, following them through New York, giving them false leads..baiting the trap…leading the trio here to the lonely Upstate forest, making the Hunters, unaware, the hunted..our prey.

    Gabriel and I don’t normally venture into the forests, into the Outlands of New York, because this is werewolf territory.  But Charley, the Pack Leader, and I have an understanding…a truce of sorts.  I saved his hide once and, as Gabe and I are both Gangrel, we have more in common with the Garou than other kindred…a common ground, if you will.  Charley was gracious enough to grant us the ability to hunt in their territory without consequence.

    I knew Gabe was stalking the female in the distance.  He was a seasoned warrior and scout, would track her for miles if he had to, as would I.  There was no margin for mistakes and none would be made. 

    The Hunter stopped dead in his tracks, and in response, so did I.  He turned and looked in my direction.  Did he hear my footfalls?  Possibly.  But he would not see me.  He was young, perhaps twenty-five years of age and had dark good looks.  A shame to kill this one…

    Moments passed before he turned and began to walk again.  I said my words silently, and allowed my magick to cloak me.  From that point it was easy.  I caught up with him in moments and took him, quickly, almost effortlessly.  Once I had him subdued I allowed my form to be seen, and a look of both shock and dismay filled his face.  All color drained from him.

    ”Hush….I do not wish it to end this way, my friend.  It is you and your kind who meant to destroy us….not the other way around.”  I whispered.

    His body went limp and his eyes teared as he replied, “We were ordered by the Church to ferret you out and destroy your coven.  We were told it was God’s will!”  A tear rolled down his cheek.  So beautiful a man.  I was the Prince’s sister, and his childe….I didn’t need permission to create progeny, and in taking him and making him one of us, I could perhaps turn the tide against the Sons of Leopold.

    ”I can spare you…but understand this:  you will not be as you are now.  You will be…a changed man.”  I gave a cynical grin, “Understand you will not walk out of here a living, breathing man.”

    I did not give him a chance to answer.