Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

HUNTER

H unter moved with a quiet, predatory grace as he led Colby and his men through the narrow tunnel, his senses alive with the same primal instincts that had kept him alive for centuries. Every step felt heavy, the damp air of the subterranean chamber thick with the residue of old magic. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as they neared the room where he had first found the fae-shifter. The memory of that day was etched into his mind—the terror on her face, the symbols carved into the stone walls, the dark ritual that had been underway.

There had been a feeling of doom to the whole thing, and Hunter wasn't given to flights of fancy and hyperbole.

Colby's voice cut through the stillness, low and cautious. "This place gives me the creeps," he muttered, his gaze shifting uneasily around the tunnel. "You sure we'll find something down here?"

"I'm not sure of anything," Hunter replied, his voice a gruff whisper. "But something happened here, and I don't believe we've seen the last of it."

Colby nodded, his brow furrowing as he quickened his pace to walk beside Hunter. "What exactly are we looking for?"

"Clues. Anything that'll tell us why the witch and vampire targeted the fae-shifter," Hunter answered, his eyes scanning the passage ahead. "The ritual they were performing wasn't just about draining her magic. It felt bigger than that."

Colby snorted softly, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Always is with your kind, isn't it? Big schemes, long games."

Hunter ignored the jab, his focus already shifting back to the task at hand. His kind—vampires—were notorious for their long lives and even longer-range plans. But what the other vampire and witch had been doing was more than a mere power grab. They were playing with forces that could tear the fragile balance between worlds apart, and that was something Hunter couldn't allow. At the end of the day, the why didn't matter so much as stopping them and whatever it was they had in mind. It didn't take a genius to know that whatever it was, it wasn't good.

As they approached the wide chamber, Hunter slowed, motioning for Colby and the others to hold back. The faint glow from the symbols carved into the stone walls gave the room an eerie, unnatural light. The air was thick with the residual magic of the ritual, like the aftershocks of an earthquake, still dangerous even after the main event had passed.

Hunter stepped into the chamber, his eyes immediately locking onto the markings on the ground—the remnants of the ritual. He crouched by one of the symbols, running his fingers lightly over the smooth lines. The carvings were deep, precise, and had been etched with intention. This was no hastily thrown-together spell the witch had concocted upon finding some random fae. No, this was ancient magic, meticulously crafted with a specific end in mind. He had no doubt the fae had been hunted. Hunter could feel the power pulsing from the symbols, like a heartbeat just beneath the surface.

Looking over his shoulder, he asked, "Can you feel this?"

Colby nodded. "What is all this?" His voice was hushed as he stepped closer, his eyes wide as they took in the intricate carvings.

"It's part of the ritual," Hunter murmured. "These symbols—they're not just decorative. They're wards meant to contain and siphon magic. Old, dark, powerful magic."

Colby let out a low whistle, glancing around the room. "And they were using it on the fae-shifter?"

Hunter nodded, rising to his feet. "Fae blood is powerful. In the wrong hands, it can be used to strengthen other supernatural races. Vampires, shifters, witches… all of them."

"That's not good. It sounds like the perfect recipe for disaster," Colby muttered, his tone grim. "You think they were trying to tap into that power? To make themselves stronger?"

Hunter's jaw tightened. "It's possible. But there's something else here. Something we're missing."

Before Hunter could say more, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the far side of the chamber. His body tensed, every muscle coiling as his heightened senses went on high alert. He turned slowly, his sharp eyes locking onto the two figures emerging from the shadows—one tall and imposing, the other smaller, cloaked in darkness.

The vampire and the witch—but where were their acolytes?

The vampire stepped forward, his cold, calculating gaze sweeping over the room before settling on Hunter. His lips curled into a cruel smile, revealing the sharp glint of his fangs. The witch stood just behind him, her hood obscuring most of her face, but her lips were moving, her silent chant filling the air with a strange, rhythmic hum.

"Well, well, well," the vampire sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "Look who's come back to play."

Hunter's eyes narrowed; his disgust evident as he took in the other vampire's appearance. There was a twisted arrogance in the way the man carried himself, a smug confidence that turned Hunter's stomach. "What are you? Some kind of cartoon villain? I'm not here to play," Hunter growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm here to end this."

The vampire's smile widened, a dark, mocking laugh escaping his lips. "Now, who's the cartoon character? End this? Do you hear yourself? Do you think you're some kind of hero, Hayes? Do you really believe you can stop what's already in motion?"

Hunter stepped forward, his fists tightened like a predator ready to strike, coiled at his sides. "I know what you're trying to do. You and that witch. You're trying to siphon the power of the fae. But it's not going to happen."

The vampire's eyes gleamed with amusement. "You've forgotten who you are, Hunter. You've forgotten what it means to be one of us."

"I haven't forgotten," Hunter snapped, his voice filled with contempt. "I just don't want any part of it. You're a parasite, feeding on the destruction of others. I'm nothing like you."

The vampire's smile faded, replaced by a sneer of disdain. "You're exactly like me. You're a vampire. You drink blood; you kill to survive. Don't pretend you're better than me."

"I have always been better than you and your kind," Hunter said coldly. "Because I still have a conscience. Something you clearly lost a long time ago."

The tension in the room thickened, the air crackling with the unspoken threat between the two vampires. Hunter could feel the weight of the magic pulsing from the witch, her silent chanting growing more intense, though her voice remained inaudible. He knew they didn't have much time. The longer she continued, the more powerful whatever spell she was casting would become.

Colby and his men stood ready, their eyes fixed on the vampire and witch, waiting for the signal to strike. But something about the situation felt wrong to Hunter. It was too easy. The vampire wasn't fighting back, wasn't even trying to flee. He was too calm, too confident.

Hunter's instincts screamed at him to stop, to rethink their approach, but before he could act, Colby's men surged forward. In a blur of movement, they surrounded the vampire and witch, their shifter forms making quick work of subduing them. The vampire struggled briefly, but he was no match for the combined strength of the shifters. The witch, for all her silent chanting, was restrained just as quickly, her hands bound with magical restraints that glowed faintly in the dim light.

It was over in seconds.

Too fast. Too easy.

Hunter watched the scene unfold, his unease growing with every passing moment. His gaze flicked between the captives, searching for any sign of resistance, any clue as to what was really happening. But the vampire remained calm, almost too calm, his smug smile never wavering. And the witch… her lips were still moving, though her eyes had taken on a distant, glazed look.

"This doesn't feel right," Hunter muttered under his breath, his voice tight with suspicion.

Colby, still holding one of the vampire's arms, glanced at him with a grin. "What are you talking about? We've got them."

Hunter shook his head, his instincts screaming at him to stop, to think. "No. It's too easy. They're not fighting hard enough. Where are their acolytes? Them being here alone doesn't make sense. They had to know we would come for them, and that this was the first place we'd look."

Colby frowned, glancing at the vampire, who was now completely subdued, his wrists bound with silver shackles. "They're outnumbered. Of course, they're not fighting."

But Hunter wasn't convinced. Something was off. He could feel it. The witch's silent chanting, the symbols on the walls, the vampire's smug smile—it all pointed to something more than just a simple capture. They had been led here, and now they had walked straight into whatever trap had been set.

"Get them out of here," Hunter ordered, his voice rough with urgency. "We need to move. Now."

Colby shot him a look of confusion but didn't argue. He signaled his men, and they began dragging the vampire and witch toward the exit, their movements brisk but controlled. Hunter followed behind, his eyes never leaving the captives, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring, ready to snap.

As they made their way out of the cavern and into the open air, the tension in Hunter's chest only grew. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones, in the way the witch's lips kept moving, her eyes still distant, still unfocused. It was like she was in a trance, her body present but her mind elsewhere.

The cool night air did nothing to dispel the weight pressing down on him. They began the journey back to the abbey, Colby walking beside him, the vampire and witch secured by his men.

"You're too wound up, Hunter," Colby said, his voice trying to cut through the tension. "We got them. It's over."

Hunter shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "No. It's not."

Colby frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Hunter glanced at him; his jaw clenched. "They let us take them. Don't you see? This was too easy. They wanted to be captured."

Colby's face darkened, his brow furrowing as he processed Hunter's words. "You think this is a trap?"

"I know it is," Hunter replied, his voice laced with frustration. "The witch—she hasn't stopped chanting. She's still casting something, and whatever it is, it's not good."

Colby's eyes widened, glancing at the witch as she was hauled along by his men. "But she's not making any noise?—"

"She doesn't have to," Hunter cut in. "Fae magic is subtle, and witches who tap into it can cast spells without words. She's already done the work; now it's just a matter of time before the trap is sprung."

Colby cursed under his breath. "So, what do we do?"

Hunter's mind raced, searching for a solution. They were too far from the abbey to turn back, and even if they did, they couldn't leave the witch and vampire behind. But taking them to the abbey was exactly what they wanted—whatever spell the witch was casting would likely be triggered once they were inside.

"We need to stop the spell," Hunter said, his voice firm. "If we don't, she'll bring whatever magic she's conjured right to the abbey's doorstep."

Colby nodded, his face set with determination. "How?"

Hunter's gaze flicked to the witch, her lips still moving in that eerie, silent chant. "Once we're back at the abbey, I'll deal with her. You and your men can deal with the vampire. Whatever happens, don't let either of them out of your sight."

Colby didn't hesitate. He gave a sharp nod, signaling his men to tighten their grip on the vampire. Hunter moved forward, his eyes locked on the witch, his mind racing with the knowledge that they were running out of time.

He just hoped he could stop whatever nightmare she was about to unleash before it was too late.