Vanish Or Be Hunted

Damon POV

Screwing the bottle of concealer closed, I tuck it into the back of the cabinet, behind the hairbrush and toothpaste. Closing the cabinet brings the mirror back in front of me. Staring intently at my face, I dab at it with the beauty blender in my hand. Once the concealer matches my skin, blending not perfectly but good enough, I wash out the sponge and hide it with the concealer. I scoop my phone up from the closed toilet lid and turn off the bathroom light, then the bedroom one as I leave there too. Reaching into the bowl by the front door, I go to grab my keys only to stop short, hearing movement from the couch. Looking over at it, I find that Amaya is still sound asleep, looking more peaceful than I've seen her in a while. I pick up my keys slowly, closing my fist around them before they can clink together. Once securely in my fist I stuff my phone in my jeans pocket and make my way over to the sleeping woman. Remembering how easily she gets cold, I grab the folded up blanket from the other couch and drape it over her. As I do she exhales through her nose and cuddles into it, seeming to sink further into the couch. I can't help my smile. Reaching out, I brush her hair out of her face, cupping her cold cheek. She snuggles into my hand and I almost can't bring myself to move away. She's always loved how warm I am, for as long as we've known each other.

This, right here . . . I know she doesn't trust me on the surface but deep down, I know she does. This just proves it. I'm not sure if she knows it but I do. That's enough for me. For now at least.

Carefully, I press my lips against her forehead, squeezing my eyes shut against the blurriness. A silent, swift goodbye. Just in case. Before I can convince myself to stay I tear myself away and grab my coat from the dining table, rushing out the door. I lock the door behind me and make my way to the car. I turn on the ignition, cringing at how loud the car is. I love it until it's three in the morning and wakes the neighborhood. As I'm backing out of the driveway something itches at my skin. My insides are twisted, my chest tight. So I pull the handbrake and half-climb over the center console, reaching under the driver's seat from the back. Dropping the duffel bag into the passenger seat, I quickly unzip it. Inside it, I find the usual, a roll of money, a handgun, a rifle, and a few hunting knives. In the second compartment, like always, is a change of clothes and a few medical supplies. I'm not missing anything. Getting out of the car, I run over to the front door, yanking on the door handle, double-checking. My lips press together, finding it locked. What is going on with me? Before I go back to the car, I check the door one more time. When I'm absolutely certain no one can get in, I get back in the car and back out of the driveway.

I keep my mind carefully blank on the drive over there, knowing I can't let myself get distracted. Distractions are how mistakes happen. I don't have the time or the resources for mistakes. I can't afford to get myself killed. So for the whole way there, I keep my eyes trained on the road.

I park a good few blocks from the male's house, beside the alley that one of my escape routes runs through. Unzipping the duffel bag, I grab out a few of the hunting knives, tucking them into various pockets, and the handgun. I then zip it up and turn it upside down. From the glove-compartment, I grab a box of rounds. I load the handgun and click the safety on before tucking it into my waistband. As I kick out of the car I throw my hood over my head. Even though it's three in the morning and there are minimal people about, I keep my eyes trained on the ground. I can't afford to be seen around here.

I make my way through the alley and at the anticipated fence, I jump up. Grabbing onto the top of it, I hoist myself up and over. I keep going, keeping up a relatively fast pace. This has to be done before sunrise. When I reach the wooden pallet I placed last night, I stand on top of it and jump, grabbing hold of the window ledge above. As I'm hauling myself up onto it, I realize going to the gym more probably wouldn't hurt. I barely have time to fit it in but I'm gonna have to start. Standing on the window ledge, I reach up to the edge of the tiled roof, hauling my heavy self up again. From the roof, the brick house I'm after is visible, two houses over. Doing one of the things I do best, I get a running start and push off the opposite edge of the roof, leaping across the gap. In order to not jar my legs, I land in a roll, springing back to my feet with ease. Crouching, I make my way to the opposite edge of the roof, the edge closest to the target's house. Like always, the only window open is the one in the middle, the study. Originally, I'd thought it a bedroom, but since creeping around inside, scouting the place, I realized that although it is meant to be a bedroom, with a built-in wardrobe, it's been converted into a study. It makes me wonder why, as one of his child's bedroom has no wardrobe. Why not switch the two?

Seeing that the light is off, I stand. I take a few steps back, not needing as much of a running start as the last building. It's easy. I fly through the window, feet first, intentionally landing with a thud. I know he's not asleep. I need him to hear me. There doesn't seem to be any lights on and the only sounds are three hearts beating and light snoring. As well as heavy but quiet footsteps walking down the hall, real slowly. He knows I'm here. Vampyre ears don't miss much. Waltzing around the room, glancing around at the artworks on the walls, I wait him out. I'll have the upper hand in here, not out there. I'd rather not wake his young wife and children, I don't want to have to kill them too.

The oak wood door creaks as it opens, the hinges almost rusted over. Immediately it tells me he doesn't use the door much. It's either regularly open or regularly closed. The male shuts the door as quietly as he can with its creaking and wanders over to the curtains. He aggressively shuts them, blocking out the moonlight. It won't do anything. My eyes are just as advanced as his.

"Lucky sent you?" Easily slipping into one of my many facades, I chuckle. The sound of it is deep and quiet, reminding me somewhat of a lion.

"What did you expect, Conrad?" He pales at the sound of his name, exactly the type of reaction I was intending. Letting him know that this is his house but I'm the one in charge.

"He usually sends humans. Did he run out of them?" I smirk at him in return.

"Lucky is arrogant enough to believe in vampyres but not believe that people can turn into giant wolves."

I pick up a piece of paper from his desk, skimming over the scrawl on it. Seeing that it has Lucky's name on it, I place it back down, making a mental note to take it with me when I leave.

"If I asked you to accept your fate quietly, would you?"

He scoffs quietly, "I've turned everyone he's sent, y'know."

I look up at him, my smirk only growing, "Yes, I'm quite aware. I've disposed of them. Kind of sloppy work you've been doing, Conrad. I thought you were smarter."

Without warning, he's flying at me. Having been ready for it since I got here, I step to the side and throw out one of my knives. He grunts as it embeds itself in his shoulder. Blood gushes everywhere when he yanks it out and I almost roll my eyes. How much vampyres bleed is just an inconvenience at this point, annoying even. So damn messy. On the bright side though, despite the blood, they think they're invincible. They constantly underestimate me.

He stares at me for a moment, his eyes briefly flicking towards the closed door. So I give him a chance, the one chance I give every single one of my targets.

"Come quietly. I'll make it quick. I won't let your family see you and I won't harm them. Make this simple, Conrad." He growls in response and I almost sigh. I really don't want his family to wake up. Reaching a hand behind me, I grasp the butt of the handgun in my jeans, flicking off the safety with my thumb. It's the only thing that'll kill him. Conrad, hearing the flick of the safety going off, pales. Bringing the gun out to my side, his eyes flick to it before looking back at my face. He stares at me for a few moments and I can almost hear the gears turning in his head. His eyes flick around the room and his foot takes a step back, his eyes looking for an escape whilst his feet move towards one. Raising the handgun, I quirk my brow at him.

"You're not very slick. I came in through that window." His facade drops.

"Just let me leave. Have some compassion, Alpha. My family needs me. It's only me that works," he pleads with me, finally scenting me properly. My heart aches at it. Already knowing this information. His children are much too young to work and his wife, being severally handicapped, receives a pension in place of a salary.

Before I can talk myself into something I pull the trigger. The silver bullet flies from the chamber and embeds into his forehead. He hits the floor with a loud thud. Scrambling back to his desk, I grab everything I can from it, stuffing it in my pockets. I rummage through the drawers, hearing light footsteps in the hall. I stuff my pockets until they're full and once I'm done, I pull my knife from Conrad's shoulder. As I'm positioning the blade at his middle finger, the door creaks. Yanking my hood as far down over my face as it will go, I stand. The young woman's heartbeat is loud, hammering in her chest.

"Who are you?" Her voice shakes wildly and I don't blame her. I don't take the chance of getting close to her. Instead, reaching into my back jean pocket, I pull out the folded piece of paper. I place it on the now practically empty desk, placing one of Conrad's decorative crystals on top of it.

"Your husband was tangled with bad people, Melanie," I tell her, knowing that she has no clue about it.

She asks me again, slightly stronger "Who are you?" Her voice sounds better but she doesn't realize I can scent her tears.

I point to the check sitting on the table, "If you tell anyone I gave you that, they will come for you and the children. Do not speak to anyone. Not even family. Take the check, cash out everything you have, and leave the country. As soon as you can. Understand?" She remains silent so I continue, "Your Jackson and Ira will be next if you don't. Do as I say, or I'll be sent back within the week. I will not be so kind the next time. Understand?"

"Thank you," she cries, voice shaking. I nod and proceed to bend down by Conrad again, easily slicing off his finger with the silver blade.

"Cash the check the second the bank opens and be on your way. Only pack the most valuable things to you. They'll be checking the house. If they see you've fled, they'll hunt you. Tell no one you saw me and no one that I helped you. I was never here. Or I'll be the one hunting you. Understood?"

"Thank you," she cries, taking a step. Nodding, I push the crystal and check to the edge of the desk and climb out the window. I slam it shut after me and push off the ledge. Hitting the next building, I grab onto the pipe running down the side of it, using it to hold myself up whilst I swing onto the window ledge right by it.

I make my way onto the roof and take a running leap onto the next one, swinging down it onto the window ledge I climbed up not an hour earlier.

Hearing police sirens, the gunshot having been loud, I drop down onto the wooden pallet and leg it to the car. In the car, I pull out a separate bag from the backseat, emptying my pockets into it. It fills with bits and pieces of paper and a finger. I zip it shut and turn on the car, pulling out onto the road and vanishing before the cops even know I'm there.

I go home, making a stop past Lucky's club to drop off the bag. When I pull into the driveway I cut off the ignition quickly and open my duffel bag. Pulling out the fresh clothes, I quickly change into them, just in case Amaya is awake. After changing I stuff the bag back under my seat and unload the handgun, putting the bullets back in the box and then putting the empty handgun in the glove box too. Looking in the rearview mirror, I use the inside of my sleeve to wipe away the bits of blood visible on my face.

Inside the house, I find Amaya still fast asleep, though her position has changed. Letting out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, I bring my shirt over my head as I make my way to the shower. All the while knowing I could have a thousand showers and I still wouldn't feel clean.