Derek Ward

Chapter 14

The Only Constant In Life Is Change

Two days of cautious travel later, Nick pulled the Suburban up to a travel information center outside of Tallahassee. Nick got out of the truck and made his way to a pay telephone bank as Hangman and I checked the hard drives and all of our information that we had on our conspiracy, if that was what it was. After we were satisfied that everything was intact, Hangman cleared a green metal park bench while I hit the vending machines for snack foods and soda. As I walked back to the bench where Hangman was sitting, I reflected on the past couple of days.

I had woken up from my nap in the back of the Suburban as Nick pulled into a grocery store. I shook the cobwebs from my mind and pushed through the immediate flash of longing pain. If this was what was going to happen every time I woke up, I wasn’t sure how long I could go on. Nick looked back at me with that same disturbing sympathetic look. I shot him a challenging look, but his face didn’t change. “C’mon Ranger, we need provisions.”

“If Ranger wants to stay here, I’ll go,” Hangman offered with a note of confused sympathy in his voice. I grimaced and started to move. I had a nasty suspicion that Nick wanted to get me alone for a bit. I was getting that vibe from him. Usually, Nick wanted to try and get me to tone down my tactics. Nick always thought that I did things a little too much on the spectacular side. This time, however, I didn’t think that Nick wanted to talk about my tactics. There was something else on his mind, and the only clue was that sympathetic look on his face.

“Thanks anyway Hangman, but I need to move,” I told our younger friend so Nick wouldn’t have to say anything, “After that nap, I need to get my muscles stretched a bit.” Hangman nodded and settled himself down in his seat. I climbed out of the truck, my hand brushing the grip of my USP in its small of the back holster. Touching my pistol was like a Catholic rubbing a saint medallion. It gave me a sense of reassurance and confidence when I was lacking. All I felt like doing was turning around the truck and charging back into the fray until I found Elizabeth. I was shrouded in emotions that were completely new to me. I had this profound love encased in a terror that had never touched me before. If this was the horror that was felt when Vollen used his psychic powers, I understood the depths of the Guildmaster’s bewilderment by my resistance. All of this was on top of something I had never felt before – a strong and almost overpowering urge to abandon the job. Until that moment, the job was what had defined me. All of my interests and all of my beliefs sprouted from being a hunter – by being the best damn hunter in Hillsborough – but now was there something else. Someone else that had enough power over me that the idea of abandoning my job didn’t feel like heresy. It almost felt like the job was abandoning my duty, not the other way around. Which is why I needed to speak with Nick.

The two of us walked into the grocery store. For me, it was kind of a disorienting experience. In less than six hours, I had gone from furious and desperate fighting against the minions of my race’s ancient enemies to the peace and quiet of suburban commerce. I didn’t say anything as we got a cart and began meandering through the aisles. Nick remained quiet through the cooler aisles, almost as if he was building to something.

“If you want to leave Hangman and me, I think we would both understand,” Nick told me, “I know I would at least.” I looked at him, feeling almost betrayed, but also somewhat relieved. I had always maintained a façade of casual superiority among other lycanthropes. It was always a matter of going on the offense about my heritage when dealing with most individuals. No one had really managed to get past that façade, including those who were supposed to be my friends – like Nick. For some reason, I finally felt like I could speak to Nick without fear of losing his respect. We stopped in the middle of the aisle, and I looked Nick directly in the eye. I knew that right then and there, I could walk away and try to find Elizabeth, and Nick would not judge me.

“I really don’t know what to do Nick,” I admitted, finally letting my guard down, “For the first time in my entire life, my professional life and my personal life are completely at odds.”

“Considering this is the first time that you’ve actually had a personal life,” Nick chided me, “You don’t aim low do you?”

“I’ve got all that sniper training,” I retorted, “It’s always aim for the top.” Nick and I chuckled at each other.

“What are your instincts telling you?” Nick asked. I knew that Nick trusted my instincts almost more than I did. He always asked me that same question when I had a dilemma.

“That she’s alive,” I answered immediately, “But that I need to get to Tallahassee with the two of you. I can’t abandon the job.” Nick just nodded, not with approval or disapproval, just understanding. After all, we were hunters once all was said and done. There was a reason that hunters had a hard time with relationships. Our jobs always had to come first. Finally, I understood the torment some of my colleagues went through when they had to choose the job over their love. I had silently admonished them for their “weakness.” That would never happen again. Lost in thought, I almost didn’t hear my phone ringing.

“If you and Nick are done with your love play, you’ve got company,” Hangman said in a hushed tone, “About five leeches just walked into the store. One is prowling the lot. I think they’re looking for us.” Damn, those bastards were moving fast. I thought our escape window was good for at least another twelve hours.

“Take down the prowler as quietly as possible,” I told Hangman, “Nick and I will deal with the ones in the store.” Nick looked over at me as I hand-signed that we had vampires hunting us. He just nodded, and I could see his eyes slide from compassion to killing. Nick continued to push the cart down the aisle as I went to scout for the vampires.

For the record, trying to be inconspicuous while looking for a group in a grocery store isn’t always easy. With the early darkness of Florida winter, the vampires had managed to come out while many people were doing their routine shopping. With the store as crowded as it was, I didn’t want to use my pistol. Humans did unpredictable things when gun play started. I was left to use only what was around me. Fortunately, I was pretty good at doing crazy things like this. The first things I had to get were some wet floor signs.

“Nick meet me at the end of Aisle 12,” I said over my phone, “Pick up some toilet paper and some lighter fluid.” I had an idea for dealing with the leeches, but I was going to have to work fast, and I was going to need to get the humans out of the way. I walked up to the customer service desk. The young girl behind the counter looked up at me with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile. The picture of what a customer service rep should look like. Glaring got rid of some of the humans in front of me. Shoving took care of the last two.

“Get on the intercom and have everyone leave the store,” I ordered her with the Wolf’s Growl. Her welcoming eyes immediately darkened with fear. Her manager noticed something wrong and joined us. I menaced him and told him in the same Growl, “Everyone must leave.”

A stammering voice came over the intercom telling all of the patrons that they were required to leave immediately. The customers looked about with various looks of bewilderment as I moved through the throngs. I needed to get the rest of my components before the vampires caught up with Nick and me. I ducked between the aisles, narrowly avoiding the few vampires trying to find us. Preparations took a few moments, and then I went out to meet my pursuers. It didn’t take long.

“Hi shitheads,” I growled as the gang of vampires came into the main aisle. Their fingernails were unpainted, and they had that same wild look that many of the vampires in the Manor possessed. There was something different about these vampires. Something almost feral, for lack of a better word. The group of them gave me twisted smiles as they locked their eyes on me. I still wanted to use my pistol, but I kept my hand away. I already had a plan in place for a reason. The eight vampires launched at me, sprinting down the aisle at me. I took a sidestep into my trap. I was on the other end of aisle with a waiting Nick, who was holding a lighter. The vampires scrambled into the aisle – and hit the pool of floor polish. The eight vampires sprawled onto the floor and slid into the waiting lighter fluid. Nick lit the matches in his hand and let them fall into the lighter fluid. A whoosh of air being consumed followed the wave of flame. The vampires had less than a second to realize what was happening to them before their bodies were consumed by fire. Primal screams filled the aisle as Nick and I watched the writhing bodies burn. My phone vibrated at my side.

“Humans are on their way,” Hangman reported, “You two might want to get the hell out of there.” I hand-signed what Hangman said to Nick, who nodded silently. The two of us began jogging to the front door.

“We are on our way,” I said to Hangman, “Did you take care of the prowler?”

“Yeah, and I’ll never get the stench off my good knife,” Hangman replied, “I’ve got the truck running. We’ll get the hell out of Dodge as soon as the two of you get here.” At least the pup was thinking on his feet. Human involvement was the last thing we needed. Nick and I piled into the Suburban and Hangman pulled the truck out of the parking lot. Less than a minute after we pulled out, a flurry of emergency vehicles screamed into the parking lot. Hangman slammed on the accelerator, but backed off when Nick quietly chided him to drive normally. It was a typical mistake made by rookies. When fleeing from the scene, it was better to blend in with the surroundings rather than getting out as fast as possible. Running away stood out in bystanders’ minds, and they tended to call the authorities.

Thwarted from getting some real food, the three of us decided to just head to Tallahassee. The quickest way north would have been either the interstate or up the Suncoast Parkway, but both of those routes would be under surveillance. We agreed that the attack at the supermarket wasn’t happenstance. The TCV was trying to eliminate what remained of the lycanthropes of Hillsborough County. We had the weapons and the ability to take on pretty much anything the TCV could throw at us, but it would delay us. Time was critical, and we had wasted far too much time dealing with the vampires in the supermarket. So we headed north on Dale Mabry, figuring on using county and state roads to get to our destination.

There was some tension as we crossed County Line Road, the traditional border between Hillsborough County and Pasco County. Fifty years ago, we would have been required to immediate proceed to the Pasco Manor and state our business before Lord Smith. These days, lycanthropes could cross the borders without restraint as long as it didn’t endanger the county, which is exactly what the three of us were doing. Fleeing into the county could easily be construed by any of the participants as bringing Pasco into the fight with the TCV.

Just as I let my tension ease, flashing lights blazed behind us. I looked back to see the blue and white lights of the Florida Highway Patrol. My instincts began screaming as Hangman dutifully began slowing down and pulling off to the side of the highway. I had a nasty feeling that we weren’t being pulled over by a legitimate state trooper. I drew my USP. Nick looked back at me as he heard me flicking off the safety.

“What is it Ranger?” he asked, giving me a questioning look.

“I don’t like this,” I half-whispered, “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.” Nick tensed up. Nick always said he thought my instincts almost bordered on the clairvoyant, and from his reaction, he wasn’t being sarcastic. Hangman looked at me through the rear view mirror with a confused look.

“What do I do?” Hangman asked with a forced confidence, “I can punch it.” I looked back as our vehicles slowed. It wasn’t the normal Crown Vic cruiser, but the much sportier Camaro. Outrunning a police sports car in a heavily loaded SUV wasn’t really an option. The good news was that the Camaro could only hold two occupants. Even if it was vampires, it would be two leeches, maybe three if they were squeezing in. Even if we were dealing with Bleeders, that was good odds. Nick had already drawn and concealed his monster revolver, and I had mine weapon ready to engage.

“Pull over,” Nick told Hangman, “Despite Ranger’s instincts, this could be a normal traffic stop. We play this normal until we see different. If it starts to go down Hangman, get out of the truck as fast as you can.” There was a wait after our vehicles stopped. If this was a legitimate stop, then the trooper was running the Suburban’s plates. If it wasn’t, then reinforcements were probably on their way. To make matters worse, I couldn’t make out the car’s occupants beyond the bright lights of the headlights and the spotlight. My instincts were fucking shrieking danger signals, but there wasn’t anything I could do. My instincts were scarily good, but they had one problem. They gave me warnings on danger – any danger, including those that I could get out of without gunfire.

Two more sets of flashing lights appeared in front of us. These were red and blue, which meant county deputies. If they were baddies, those deputies were more likely to be ghouls, which meant that the three of us were about to be in the middle of a nasty crossfire. I wanted to roll out of the truck and start the firefight, but I was always more comfortable being on the offensive. The Guildmaster had been trying to break me –. A wave of pain swept through me as I thought of the Guildmaster. I locked down the pain and focused on the deputies getting out of their cars. I couldn’t see them very well, but I could see the silhouettes of long rifles. More blue lights from behind announced the arrival of another state trooper. A Tahoe this time. The SUV could hold another four to six, which meant we had eight to our rear and about four to our front. This was not good. The deputies lowered their rifles. The quiet of the night exploded into sound.

I kicked my door open and rolled out onto the asphalt as the muzzles of the deputies’ rifles lit up. I rolled up into a crouch and lined up the nearest deputy with my USP. As I finally saw the deputy’s face, I nearly dropped my pistol. I had nearly shot another lycanthrope. It was then I finally realized that the deputies in front of us weren’t firing at us – they were firing at the state troopers behind us. I swung around to join in the fight, but I could see that the lycanthropes had already finished the job.

I crept up to the two state trooper vehicles, my pistol firmly in front of me. Another lycanthrope came up next to me with an assault rifle and covered my blind side. The lycanthrope was a hunter. I could recognize the training as the two of us moved towards the Tahoe. I had looked over at the Camaro and saw its single occupant lying dead next to the car. The ghoul had managed to take a step out of the car before a burst of fire had cut him down. The front of the Tahoe had been shredded by rifle fire and its front two occupants had been slaughtered, but I wanted to make sure that there weren’t any others in the back of the vehicle. The hunter at my side tapped me on the shoulder. Hand signs gave suggestions on how to handle the approach. His idea was good, so I agreed.

The two of us strode up to the silent SUV in a low crouch. I shed human for true as we came alongside the truck. The smells of death and gunfight flooded my senses as I left the paleness of the human world behind. As the hunter circled behind me, I holstered my USP and grasped the passenger door. I ripped the door off of the truck, holding it as a shield against possible fire, and slid back as the other hunter rushed forward with his rifle. He cleared the Tahoe as I dropped the door and quick drew my USP. There were only two in the Tahoe. Both of them were vampires. Both of them wore black-painted claws. The Bleeders had been after us. I looked over at the hunter, actually seeing him for the first time. The multi-colored hair was the first thing that I noticed, and I just broke down into an exhausted laugh. Damned Punk, he was actually getting good at this. The last time I worked with him, he was a fucking pup that nearly got us both killed with some stupid mistake. At the moment, I was too happy to see him to give a damn.

Punk and I walked back to my truck. Nicky and Hangman were standing next to the Suburban with the other hunters. One of the hunters took a couple of steps toward me, and I recognized the Guildmaster of Pasco County. I had worked with the Pasco Chapter enough times that the Guildmaster seemed to have recognized me. Of the three of us, I was technically the highest ranking member, and Pasco’s chapter was always a bit on the formal side.

“You can tell Erik that the debt has been paid,” the Pasco Guildmaster said with an almost aristocratic formality. I didn’t know what debt he was talking about, but the Guildmaster’s serious tone bespoke of an old and personal debt between the two Guildmasters.

“He’s fallen,” Nick answered quietly. The Pasco Guildmaster bowed his head as he heard of his friend’s death. I knew that the Guildmaster was on good terms with our neighboring counties, but that wasn’t the reaction I had been expecting.

“We’re sealing the Hillsborough border,” the Pasco Guildmaster told us. His voice had that unique huskiness of a lycanthrope holding back his emotions. My voice had sounded that way as the three of us had been sealing the Guild. “Get to Tallahassee, and try to get some support down here. Something horribly wrong is going on here. Hillsborough should not have fallen.”

“Watch out for witch-hunters,” I said from the backseat, “They had three full shields attacking our Manor.” The veteran hunter’s eyes went wide in the unique horror that witch-hunters evoked from us. “And somehow the TCV brought in hundreds of new vampires. Didn’t think there were that many vampires in the fucking state.”

“We will be careful,” the Pasco Guildmaster told us, “You must get this information to the State Guildmaster. Witch-hunters and vampires acting in concert? Something is very wrong here. I’ll seal this border as I’ve been ordered, but if State doesn’t send some folks down here, I will find out what happened on my own. Polk will help me, and so will Sarasota.”

“Who the hell ordered the border to be sealed so fast?” I asked, “The Manor fell less than eight hours ago.” Events were happening way too fast. It had taken nearly a week before the Prince had ordered the disputed territories sealed, and now Hillsborough was sealed in less than a day. The Pasco Guildmaster studied me a moment before he answered. His face was one of concern and shared worry.

“My lord ordered it,” the Pasco Guildmaster answered in a calm tone, “At the time, I didn’t think about it. We had just found out about the ghoul following you, and I scrambled to get my people out here. Although I think it’s something that I will look into.”

We traveled up to Tallahassee using the back roads, occasionally meeting with our counterparts in other chapters of the Guild. Most of them looked at us as outcasts, because we lost our county. They did, however, give the three of us some help and supplies. An associate of Hangman’s from their time together at the Guild’s training camp told us in Perry how to get a hold of the State Guild easily. Which was what led us to the travel information center that the State Guild had been using as a checkpoint for all hunters going into Tallahassee.

Leon County, in which Tallahassee resides, is the only county without a lord, because it is ruled directly by the Prince of Florida. As such, its local chapter of the Hunters Guild is the State Guild. The State Guild was a far more elite organization than the local chapters. Membership is strictly by invitation only, and only the best hunters are invited. Because of this, the State Guild has a more aloof attitude to the rest of the hunters in the state. From the few that I had met (including Jessica Werstandt), they deserved their reputation. Because of the elite status of the county and the State Guild, regular hunters are not allowed to come into Leon County unless: a) you were invited; b) you were escorting a lord, lady, or Guildmaster; or c) you had been cleared for visitation by a member of the State Guild. Nick had gone to get us cleared to visit the State Guildmaster.

I spread out my collection of chips, candy, and cans of soda onto the table as Hangman leaned on his arm and looked drowsily around. I distributed my collection between Hangman and me, leaving some for Nick, as Hangman continued to sweep the perimeter with his eyes. Satisfied that we were “alone,” Hangman grabbed at his first soda and popped the tab. As he gulped it down noisily, Nick returned from the phones.

“This was the best you could do for lunch Ranger?” asked Nicky, staring down at his allotment of the snacks and soda. I could tell he wasn’t enthused with my choice of entrees.

“You really want some of the MRE’s in the back of the truck?” I asked sourly. We had finished the last of the real food that morning. He decided not to press the issue and carefully ripped open a bag of chips. I had managed to push Elizabeth to the back of my mind, focusing hard on the job that the Guildmaster had given us, but I was wearing thin. Nick’s comment had gotten me more angered that it should have. I took a few deep breaths and tried to fortify my mental barriers. The job had to come first.

“The State Guild will be sending someone to ‘fetch’ us,” Nick related between chips. His tone told Hangman and me exactly what he thought of that wording. He was definitely insulted by something, but I just wrote it off to the State Guild’s arrogance. They deserved their rep, but the way they carried themselves could be more than a bit annoying. “At any rate, the hunter on the line said that they had been expecting to hear from us yesterday, but they had figured we were being cautious on the drive up.” I almost laughed out loud as Nick’s face twisted in insult at the lycanthrope on the phone.

“So what are they going to do about Hillsborough?” Hangman asked.

“Do you really think that I told them about Hillsborough over an open line?” Nick responded. Hangman rolled his eyes back and muttered a curse under his breath. Nick continued to brew about the responses he had gotten from the lycanthrope at the State Guild as he ate his food. I finished my lunch and picked up the other can of soda I had and got up from the table.

I walked back to the Suburban and checked the removable hard disk drives in their box. I wished I had a chance to check them on a computer to make sure that all the data was still there. I placed them back in their case and put it back into the truck. I also checked all of our “proof” of the conspiracy again, and swallowed a short burst of anxiety. I didn’t know what the Prince would do to us when we told him what we had, and what I knew of the Prince was sketchy at best.

The Prince of Florida had presided over Florida in for the past sixty years. His father was killed during the Great Fatherland War that both the former and the current Prince served in, leading Florida’s warriors against the vampires and their ghouls. The Prince was a strong proponent of the Peace and worked hard to make sure his lords followed the Peace. All of that changed over the past decade. The Lords of Broward and Dade Counties went missing as open war with the vampires erupted on the southeastern tip of the state. The Prince’s inability to quell the fighting and reestablish the lordships eroded his standing with the lords, and his power within the state. Since the Prince had no heir-apparent, some of the more ambitious lords were already jostling to see who would ascend to the throne. With the fall of Hillsborough County to the vampire, it was more than likely that the Prince would be ousted from his throne by the war council that he would be forced to convene. From everything that I saw, that was probably the ultimate goal of whoever ordered Lord Vollen’s assassination. We didn’t have enough hard information to guess who this group would put forth as their candidate. I’m sure that Nicky and I had a few good ideas, but without hard evidence, and a strong ally on the council – which the prince was not, unfortunately – we wouldn’t be able to stop them. At least not politically. To be honest, if I discovered who ordered Vollen’s assassination, I would make damn sure that he was dead by the next Bone Moon.

I looked up as a new Japanese compact pulled into the spot next to me. Out stepped a smallish lycanthrope, about five and a half feet tall. Out of the other door was a giant. The lycanthrope must have topped at just under seven feet, and that was in human form. He probably nudged ten feet in true form. Both stood by the car in human form, watching me as I put my back up against the truck. I looked back at the car with an incredulous stare, trying to figure out how that behemoth had fit in the tiny seat.

“Hello hunter,” the smallish lycanthrope said to me. His voice was high-pitched and off-key. It took me a moment to realize that the lycanthrope in front of me wasn’t more than fifteen or sixteen years old, easily in his tysach years. He was dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt with a yellow smiley face with a bullet hole in the forehead embossed on it. All I could think was that this pup should have been in tysach, not playing at being a hunter. What was going on in the State Guild, assuming this pup was from the Guild?

“Who are you, pup?” I asked cautiously, my hand sliding back to the butt of my pistol in its small of the back holster. Nick and Hangman had seen the two pull up and were making their way back to me. Both of them wore very serious expressions, although Nicky’s held a trace of – anger? I turned my attention back to the pup, as soon as I was sure backup was on its way.

“We are from the State Guild,” he said with an arrogant flippancy that made me want to reach out and touch him very harshly. He held up his identification card. It looked like a card for a video rental store, but it had several identifying marks on it that told hunters that the lycanthrope whose face was on this card was a member of the State Hunters Guild of Florida. I checked the picture on the card to the prick’s face. I didn’t bother reading the name.

“Yippee,” I responded, dryly, “What the fuck do you want?”

“You three are required to follow us to the State Guild and wait there for the State Guildmaster to deal with you.” The little prick sounded so pompous about the whole thing. Out of habit, and hidden desire, my mind calculated the distance between where I was standing by the Suburban and the pup’s throat. However, that thought faded as I remembered that one, I badly needed to talk to the State Guildmaster, and two, that behemoth behind the prick was probably his partner, or some such thing, and would pick me off before I had a chance to finish anything.

“Get in your plastic car and get moving, we’ll follow in a moment,” said Nicky as he moved around the compact and towards me, never letting his gaze drop from the giant. His voice sounded warning, and I wondered what the hell was going on. Hangman swiftly moved around Nick and I and got into the driver’s seat of the truck as the two State hunters lowered themselves into their small car. I knew that Nick was angry at the big one for some reason, but I didn’t know why. For that reason, I pushed Nick into the backseat and climbed into the shotgun seat. I had the odd feeling that if I let him take the shotgun seat, he might use the twelve-gauge under the seat on the tiny car. I had never been to Tallahassee before, so the roundabout route through the city lost me. I finally quit trying to find my way around and laid back into the seat. Hangman continued to follow the compact car until it reached the parking lot of a four story office complex. The complex was the standard block of one-way, bluish-tinted glass with an entrance door on the south side that was barely distinguishable. Standing by the door was a lycanthrope in the uniform of a private security guard.

I climbed out of the Suburban and walked to the front of the truck where Hangman and Nick joined me. The prick and the big guy walked towards the door. The prick motioned for us to follow him into the building. As the two approached the guard, they showed their ID’s to him. After checking them, he looked us over.

“They’re the boys from Hillsborough. The Guildmaster wants to talk to them,” the prick explained with a barely contained tone of annoyance in his voice. It sounded like this pup, who was probably a good fifteen years younger than me and didn’t have any of the natural movements of a hunter, was annoyed at having to deal with us. I made a decision. The guard came over to us with a neutral expression on his face.

“What weapons do you have?” he asked.

“Do we have to be truthful?” asked Hangman, hoping to lighten the mood between Nick, who was still glaring at the behemoth, and myself, who was contemplating violent action against the little prick. Both of us looked at our younger companion with quizzical glances. He just smiled back at us in response, and I just had to shake my head. Sometimes the pup did the oddest things that came in handy.

“It doesn’t hurt,” the guard answered, his tone lightening with Hangman’s remark. Hangman pulled out his Kimber, and showed where he had several knives. Nick had his big Smith & Wesson .500 Magnum, and a pair of throwing knives. I had my H&K USP .45 Tactical. A boot knife and several throwing knives finished out my load. The guard nodded and let the five of us in the door.

The first two floors of the office complex were an open air courtyard with several Asian-style gardens surrounding the pebbled walkway. Offices lined the walls. A pair of open staircases were on the west and east walls. An elevator bank was at the north side. We followed the two in silence to the elevator bank. As we waited for a car, Hangman asked, “Is this your Guild?”

“Yeah,” the prick answered, surprised that someone could even ask such a stupid question.

I flashed hand signals to Hangman. He turned to the prick and asked, “Where’s the Guildmaster’s office?”

“Fourth floor,” he answered. The behemoth looked over at Hangman, allowing me to grab Nick’s attention and flash him some signals. He just nodded after I was done.

The elevator toned and three of us pushed past the two into the car. When the behemoth looked at us strange, I answered his look with, “We like having our backs against the wall.”

He shrugged at the comment and stood by his partner, who was preoccupied with pressing the elevator button. The door closed and the elevator car began to ascend. As the two watched the digital floor display, I quickly counted down with my hand to Nick and Hangman. I closed my fist and pulled it downward in the “go” signal.

My fist shot out and caught the prick in the back of the neck. His body was thrown against the elevator control panel. The prick wasn’t expecting the blow and he just collapsed to the ground from the hit. His partner loomed over me with a murderous look in his eyes. Nick quickly laid him out with a hit to his knee, followed by a quick series of blows to his torso. As he was finishing with the behemoth, I placed a haymaker punch on the nose of the prick and sent him into dreamland.

As the elevator toned, the three of us causally walked over their crumpled forms. As we walked through the halls, I noticed that none of the doors had any identifiers on them. So, I grabbed the first hunter I saw.

“Where’s the Guildmaster’s office?” I asked.

“Who are you?” he asked in response.

“I’m Ranger, and we’re the hunters from Hillsborough.”

“Where are your escorts?”

“We left them in the elevator,” I answered nonchalantly. We produced our Guild identification cards and attempted to look innocent.

“Second left, then four doors down.”

The State Guildmaster was a sour-faced lycanthrope named Scott Franken. He was in his early fifties, wearing his graying dark hair in a crew cut. Like many lycanthropes, he wore a full beard that was still mostly dark but had a few streaks of grey. Dressed in a black suit, he looked up in surprise as the three of us walked into his Spartan office. He leaned back into his chair and studied us in silence for a long minute.

“Where is my nephew and his partner?” he asked in a deep even tone. A flutter of anxiety came over me, but I managed to answer in an equally even tone.

“We left them in the elevator.” He continued to study me for a moment.

“I know Nicholas, so I’m assuming that you’re Ranger. Your other friend isn’t old enough for your file.” The Guildmaster pulled out a manila folder from a desk drawer and plopped into onto the desk. My name was in block letters on the tab. He turned to Nick. “I’m glad you’re here, Nicholas.”

“Really?” Nick responded, in a controlled voice, “Why is that?”

“The prince has need of you. You hold a very unique position right now.”

“There is something more important than any position I hold right now,” Nick said. I took a sidelong glance at Nick, who seemed very nervous all of the sudden. “We believe that one or more of the lords are plotting against the prince. They may have assassinated the Lord Vollen.”

“Do you have any proof?” asked the State Guildmaster.

“Nothing concrete,” I answered, “I was up on the catwalks when the assassin took his shot. The shooter positioned himself so that the railing would deflect our normal kill shot. That kind of familiarity with our tactics tell me that the shooter was either a current or former hunter – and a damned good one at that. That was our first clue that the assassination of Stephen Vollen was a lycanthrope-instigated assassination”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just a rogue hunter hired by the vampire?” the State Guildmaster asked me. The look in his eyes and the tone of his voice told me he was probing, but not overly skeptical about what I was telling him.

“I talked to the head of the Bleeders at the time,” I answered, “He pretty much confirmed that the Inner Council of the TCV had nothing to do with it, and there weren’t any independents vampires at the time with the resources or contacts to bring someone of that caliber in.”

“How do you know that?” the State Guildmaster countered, “I imagine a powerful independent would be able to covertly pull something like this off. Even your own Red Knights concluded it the TCV was most likely behind it.”

“That’s because the Guildmaster was keeping evidence and information from the Knights while running a second, covert, investigation,” Nick answered, “The political situation was too tense, and the chapter leaders didn’t want it known to the packs that a hunter had assassinated a beloved lord.” The State Guildmaster gave Nick a cool look. It wasn’t dislike, but rather a controlled expression.

“That leads us into other evidence,” Hangman chimed in, “The weapon recovered at the scene was loaded with Silver Shoks in 7.62 mm NATO. I don’t know about the rest of the state, but we’ve only just started getting this round within the past year to supplant the Winchester partial-jacket. That leads us back to lycanthrope society where a ready supply of the ammunition used was actually available.”

“Further, during the war with the vampire, I recovered information that appeared to show alliances county-by-county when open war erupted in Hillsborough,” Nick continued, “Our analysis is that a lord is making a power play and the information I recovered was a graphical representation of his most probable enemies and allies.”

“A power play for what?”

“My guess would be the throne,” Nick replied cooly.

“I suspected this much,” he began, “Too many things were happening too fast. I need to see those files to fully confirm your story, but I think that I better take you to the Manor first. The prince knows of my suspicions, but he has dismissed them out of hand. Now, maybe he’ll listen more carefully.”

The door crashed open behind us. Nick and Hangman leveled their guns at the visitors, as I pulled out a pair of throwing blades. The prick and the behemoth had awakened and were very upset. Fortunately, they had enough sense to back off when they saw that the three of us were ready to dance.

“David, John,” the State Guildmaster said quietly over the tense moment, “I’m disappointed you didn’t show these hunters to my door.”

“Uncle,” the prick whined, “They attacked us. With no provocation at all.”

“You should have been more careful. These three are very good hunters. I doubt that arrogance you wear so proudly on your sleeve impressed them at all. You might be the youngest hunter accepted by the State Guild, but you are definitely not in these three’s class.” The prick’s face fell, and then twisted in anger as the Guildmaster dressed him down in front of us.

“They haven’t even been invited to join the State Guild. How good can they be?” the prick asked the Guildmaster. In response, I nonchalantly flicked one of the blades I had in my hand. It whistled by his ear and buried itself in the wall behind him. The Guildmaster laughed heartily as the prick grabbed his ear in panic. The behemoth lurched at me, until Nick put the barrel of his Smith to the behemoth’s temple.

“We danced before,” Nick stated very quietly, pulling back the hammer on the revolver, “Do you want to go again?” At least that revealed something about Nick’s past in Tallahassee. The two of them were definitely not friendly.

“Nicholas,” the Guildmaster said, in a commanding tone, “Put that gun away. We have more important things to do than blow poor John’s brains all over my upholstery.” With that, the State Guildmaster stood up, straightening his suit. “David, John, please tell Mitch to go over CQC techniques with the two of you immediately. You need a refresher in close quarters combat.” I assumed Mitch was the State Guild’s combat training specialist. Hillsborough’s Guild didn’t have any teachers. We taught and learned from each other. Trainers tended to take up spots in the county chapters that were better served with operators. The State Guild, however, had more members and could obviously afford the extra wolf. Franken motioned them out of his office and then led us out of the office as well. The State Guildmaster led us through the maze of corridors to an unmarked elevator. We entered silently and made our way to a subterranean passageway. The State Guildmaster led us over to a dressing room where we were told to take off our normal clothing. After that, we shed our human forms for that of true form, and then put on the loose-fitting jumpsuits provided. After strapping on our weapons, we put the long, black formal robes that lycanthropes wore when the top levels of the aristocracy received them.

The passage led on a twisting route under the city of Tallahassee. According to Nick, who played tour guide as the State Guildmaster led us down the passageway, the passageway was a relatively new construct. It had been built about twenty years ago, when the new Manor was built. There actually were three passageways. One led to the Hunters Guild. The second led to the Order of Spirits’ house. The last led to a hotel run by the prince’s subordinates. All of them met up at a reception are under the new Manor, where the Black Knights, the prince’s personal guard (like a State Guild of Red Knights), would clear us into the house. The tunnel stood about fifteen feet high, allowing for the size of lycanthropes in their true form. The passageway wasn’t lit, making the lycanthropes who traversed it use their supernatural vision. The floor was mystically-smoothed limestone. The natural aquifers that provided Florida with a great deal of its fresh water had been mystically altered to allow for the subterranean tunnels and acted as a natural cooling system for the tunnels. They also hid the smells from the city’s sewage system. After about fifteen minutes, the darkness began to brighten as we approached what Nick had referred to as “the landing.” Another five minutes passed as the light gradually increased, allowing us to see the crevices and cracks in the limestone walls and ceiling that had been part of a long-rerouted aquifer. The end of the tunnel was an arch where a pair of lycanthropes were standing. Both were in true form, standing well into eight feet tall, about average for a lycanthrope. Both were loosely clothed in black jumpsuits. One of them was holding a ten foot long metal pole, an inch in diameter. The other was cradling a Steyr TMP.

“Don’t look too happy to see us, do they?” I commented to Nick. He just glared at the two, much as he did at the behemoth back at the State Guild. I wondered if he knew, and hated, everyone in Tallahassee.

“If you thought your lord’s Red Knights were paranoid, you won’t believe the scrutiny of the Black Knights. They look on everyone as an immediate threat to the prince, especially hunters,” responded the State Guildmaster, who had overheard my comment.

“Even paranoids have enemies,” Nick stated, coldly. I was about to ask Nick what he meant, but the two Black Knights met up with us at that point. They escorted us into the landing in silence. Unlike the tunnels, the landing was about twenty feet high, and was lit with an off white light coming from a huge overhead fixture. The limestone walls had been covered by concrete blocks. There were evenly spaced crevices in the walls, where I assumed the Knights placed their shooters in defensive maneuvers. At the far end of the landing, about forty feet from the end of the tunnel, was the opening to another tunnel. I could make out the first steps of the staircase inside the tunnel. We were greeted by another six Knights in body armor and assault rifles. My first reaction was to place my hand on the butt of my pistol, holstered on my thigh. Nick caught my hand and shook his head. The State Guildmaster, oblivious to the exchange between the two of us, walked over to the lycanthrope that was in charge of the Knights.

“These three are the hunters from Hillsborough. I am taking them to see the prince so he can talk to them about the situation there.” The head Knight looked us over. His eyes locked onto Nick, who returned the gaze with a steady cold glare. Questions about Nick’s shadowed past crossed my mind. The tense moment between them broke quickly and the head of the detail motioned for the pair of Knights that had brought us out of the tunnel to come over to him. He spoke quietly to them, then sharply turned about, and walked back to the rest of his detail. The two that had escorted us from the tunnel walked up to the State Guildmaster and introduced themselves.

“I’m Staff,” the one with the long metal pole began, “This is Bullie. We’re to escort you into the Manor. Do they know the rules for hunters here?”

“One of them does, but the other two have never been here before,” the State Guildmaster answered. Staff walked over to us. His pole was in the feigned relax pose of a master wielder. I had seen the same posture from several martial arts demonstrations I had watched.

“Okay, the basic simple rule is, don’t make yourself a threat. The Black Knights and the State Guild have an understanding to the fact that hunters need to have their weapons on them, and the Guild understands that we must protect the prince. No fast movements of the hands around standard weapon positions, namely the waist, small of the back, thighs, and under the arms. You’ll have a good deal of Knights pointing firearms loaded with silver rounds at you. Are you bringing any packages with you?”

“Nope, we left them in the car,” answered Hangman.

“Good. Hunters, if you would follow me,” Staff said, leading up to the tunnel at the back of the landing. The four of us, led in step by the Guildmaster, followed him into the tunnel. Bullie came up behind us, his sub- machine gun in a ready position. I took a quick glance back at him and saw the coldness in his eyes. There was no doubt in my mind that the Knight would hose the four of us with silver if he thought we were about to harm the prince or Staff. Probably in that order too. The tunnel was also unlit, relying on the ambient light of the landing and its users’ supernatural vision. It was similar to the landing in that the limestone was covered by concrete bricks. It went straight for about ten feet, then our group came across a staircase. It spanned the width of the tunnel, which arched up with the staircase. The stairs were made of the same smoothed limestone as the floor of the tunnels, and extended at least thirty feet up into the darkness. At the foot of the staircase, I couldn’t make out any of the details about what waited for us at the top. Staff quietly began walking up the staircase, his leather foot coverings making almost no sound on the cold limestone. The four of us, however, sounded like a pack of elephants in comparison. The construction of the steps was such that we couldn’t stop our claw from clicking on the limestone. In addition, the tunnel seemed to amplify the sounds, making them even louder. As we made our way up the staircase, I had a nasty feeling that this was a passive alarm system, since no lycanthrope, except the Back Knights who trained here, could make it through here without making enough noise to alert whoever was at the top and bottom.

I felt justified as the top of the staircase became visible. It was another open area, but it was not lit. Much smaller than the landing, it had several oak doors lining the walls. Another half-dozen Black Knights were there, waiting for us. Two were manning an old M2 Browning .50 caliber machine gun. The old “tank-killer” (which is what it was used for during World War One) was flanked by another pair of lycanthropes holding Colt M4 carbines with shotguns slung under the barrels. The other pair of Black Knights were armed with shotguns.

“Alpha Bravo seven four,” said one of the lycanthropes at the top.

“Delta Whiskey eight nine,” responded Staff, who was standing at the very top of the staircase, on the edge of the guarded area. I was about to continue up, but Staff briskly motioned for us to stay put.

“Omaha,” said another lycanthrope.

“Denver,” responded Bullie, surprising Hangman and I. Nick and the State Guildmaster were staying calm and waited for Staff to lead the group through the heavily armed Knights. Staff moved quietly across the floor to the door opposite of the staircase. He opened the door and motioned for the four of us to go in.

“Aren’t you coming the rest of the way?” asked the Guildmaster, apparently surprised by what I thought was a change in the normal protocol.

“No sir. Longblade and his team will be escorting you to the prince. They will meet you at the end of the hall.”

“Longblade? James Nightglow?” Nick asked, almost incredulously. I looked back at him. Something was not right with Nick. That alone made it my problem. However, I also had to factor in the fact that we were carrying sensitive information. Anyone Nick didn’t like or trust became a threat, mostly because I had faith in Nick’s judgment of other lycanthropes.

“Yes, why do you ask?” responded Staff.

“I didn’t think he was still alive. The last time I saw him he had suffered three gunshot wounds to the chest.” Staff looked at Nick peculiarly as our group entered the hall. He looked like he was about to say something, but decided against it. He shut the door behind us. As soon as the door clicked, a thick steel wall slid down, sealing us in the hall. The hall, unlike the tunnel and the landing, looked like it belonged in a Manor. The walls were the typical off-white color, and decorated with several hanging paintings. All but one of them were landscapes of various areas in Florida, such as Bok Tower in Lake Wales and Miami Beach. One was a painting of the King of the United States. Each prince was required to have at least one painting of the King displayed in their Manor. Where it was displayed was often an indicator to how the prince felt about the King. That was something an instructor told me during my training as one of those pieces of trivia that might or might not be useful later in our careers. The placing here was neutral as all of the important people would see it, but it was not in the most prominent place, namely the Manor itself. The door was oak, but I could smell the iron of the metal plate inside the door. Contrary to popular belief, metal does have a peculiar smell, although it is very hard to detect, and normally I can’t smell it unless I’m in true form and taking advantage of the enhancement to my senses. I also detected the smell of anxiety from Nick. This surprised the hell out of me, since as long as I’ve known Nick, he’s always been the cool one. As we walked across the thick red carpeting, I asked Nick who this “Longblade” was.

“Let’s just say my exit from Tallahassee was less than docile.” I looked at him, puzzled by his cryptic response. He didn’t say anything else as we got to the door. I looked over to Hangman, who had been silently observing everything for the past hour, and shot him a questioning look. He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention to the State Guildmaster. The State Guildmaster knocked on the hall door. It opened to reveal a somewhat short lycanthrope wearing flowing black robes. Behind him, were a small team of four other lycanthropes, also in black robes, although their weapons were more visible than the firearm on the small lycanthrope. As we walked out of the hall into a large, well-appointed waiting room, the small lycanthrope looked each of us over with a cool appraising eye.

That coolness faded as soon as Nick came out of the hall. Anger flashed in the small lycanthrope’s eyes and a growl came into his throat. Nick responded with a similar evil growl, but didn’t move from where he stood. In a lightning blur of motion, the small lycanthrope threw himself at Nick. Nick absorbed the impact, falling down to lessen the blow, as we were taught. The little lycanthrope kneeled over Nick, who wasn’t fighting back, and snarled, waving his claws, almost as if he was looking for a place to strike. My hand shot under my robe and pulled out my USP, placing the barrel to the small lycanthrope’s head.

“Back off doggie,” I said, in a dangerously calm voice. His companions, who were stunned by their leader’s attack, were quickly covered by Hangman, who was wielding his Kimber. They took one look at him, and took a step back. The small lycanthrope had calmed fractionally as he felt my pistol press against his head. However, he still was kneeling next to a calm-looking Nick. When he refused to get off of Nick after I asked him nicely, I pulled the metal hammer back with my thumb to emphasize my command.

“STOP!” thundered a voice from behind me. I looked at the State Guildmaster, thinking that it might have been him. The State Guildmaster, however, was standing rigid. Hangman had his pistol lowered, and I could see him flipping up the safety. I decocked my pistol, and turned to face the speaker. He stood in impressive black robes with silver runes printed down the hems. He wasn’t much taller than me, but his presence made him seem another two feet taller. His eyes were pure obsidian, containing both coolness and fire within them. His dark brown pelt was streaked with silver puffs, but he moved across the room towards us with a grace and boldness that belied any show of age. He was Jan Kraven, Jan Talis Silverflash, the Prince of Florida, may the Ancestors long bless his reign.

“You are my guardian, Longblade. You are not my attack dog. We have need of that particular lycanthrope’s services that comes before any personal vendetta. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” he boomed, his deep voice echoing slightly off the room’s walls. Longblade took the reprimand stoically, never changing his now emotionless face. The rest of his detail looked about ready to collapse from fear. I could almost feel the tendrils of fear swirling about. The prince looked down at Nicky, who was still on the floor. Nick’s face remained emotionless as the prince studied him, but I could see something I had never seen before in Nick’s eyes. It looked a lot like fear.

“Nicholas, I’m glad that you have returned,” the prince said with a surprisingly warm tone, “You’ve brought allies?” The prince looked at Hangman, again studying him as he studied Nick. Hangman looked like he was about to take a step back, but he held his ground. Then he looked at me. The prince’s eyes went wide. He stepped back a moment and looked at me in wide-eyed wonder. “Ravage, my word, is that you?”

“Pardon, your highness?” I asked. I had never heard of a lycanthrope that went by Ravage, much less anyone whom I resembled. Maybe I had a double up in Tallahassee, but I would have to deal with that. The Prince shook his head with a hint of, nostalgia?

“I’m sorry, but you look like an old friend of mine,” the Prince explained, “You’re much too young to be him, but the resemblance is very strong. Ancestors, it’s frightening. What’s your name lycanthrope?”

“Marcus Phoenix Badmoon, hunter of the Hillsborough Guild,” I answered in a confident voice, which was more than I was feeling. There were so many questions and sub-plots running around Tallahassee that I was almost feeling dizzy trying to keep track of them.

“Badmoon? A Badmoon here? Well that’s odd.” With that, the prince seemingly dismissed me from his mind. This worried me, because the prince was acting totally beyond any of the extremes that I have always encountered when I gave my name to another lycanthrope. Usually, I get either extreme hostility or, far more rarely, those who are obviously looking past the ancient stigma in order to see me. Complete dismissal was something new entirely. He motioned for us to follow him back to the Manor. “So tell me Scott, why have you brought these hunters to me? I’m glad to see Nicholas, but we already know of the fall of Hillsborough. What are they going to add to what we know?”

The State Guildmaster stepped up next to the prince, under the watchful eye of the Black Knights. “Your highness, these three have brought me additional evidence –“

“The Great Overthrow conspiracy again?” the prince interrupted, a weariness in his voice conveying his annoyance at the State Guildmaster for bringing it up. My regard for the prince dropped a couple of notches. First, the Prince’s comment about my home pissed me off. The fall of a county wasn’t supposed to be spoken of in such a casual manner. Secondly, the Prince was completely disregarding a very probable threat to his throne. At least the Lords Vollen, all three of them that I served, listened to the hunters when they said that they had important information. Why wasn’t the prince listening to his best source of information, the State Hunters Guild?

We entered the State Manor without another word being spoken. Unlike the grandeur of the Hillsborough Manor, the State Manor had an elegant Spartan look to it. The walls were an off-white plaster, trimmed in wood and gold-leaf. The floor was white marble, with great black swirls in it. The doors we entered through were richly polished oak. The far end of the room rose up with a single chair on it. The chair was built to fit the prince, with a high back. It was adorned only with two emeralds on the arms and purple satin cushions on the seat and back. It looked like a traditional human throne, and it made me slightly ill. Why would the Prince ape human traditions? We had our own, and I was damned proud of them.

The prince took his throne, and looked out at us. Longblade and another of his Black Knights stood beside him on the platform. From concealed doors on either side of

the platform, ten Black Knights filed into the room, taking evenly spaced positions along the walls.

“Bring in Christopher and that bastard dog from Nebraska,” the prince thundered. The two Black Knights that had took up positions at the oaken double door rushed outside. I looked over at Nick, who seemed very anxious, all of the sudden.

“What’s going on?” I whispered to him.

“SILENCE,” boomed the prince, “We will wait for the others before the talking begins. Do you understand that?”

I whirled angrily on the prince. I could feel the prince’s powers hammering down on me, but I was pissed. I felt something surrounding me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see my friends shuttering with terror. It was very similar to what happened when Stephen Vollen had tried using his powers on me. I knew that a power was being lashed at me, but I didn’t feel the terror’s touch. I could see the confusion in the Prince’s eyes as he saw I wasn’t quivering in fear. I felt the powers quickly dissipate, but I remained silent. I could hear my Guildmaster’s voice in my head. If the Prince was willing to use his powers on me, then it was probably a good idea not to anger him further.

I stood quietly, waiting for the other lycanthropes that were supposed to be joining us. Hangman just stood rigidly, trying to shake off the after effects of the Prince’s psychic lashing. Nick’s eyes bored into me with almost horror. He knew that the Prince’s psychic display had no effect on me, and he couldn’t understand why.

What? I hand-signed to him, the sharp movement of my hands punctuating my frustration.

What was that? Nick asked with his hands. At least, that was my interpretation. Nick actually signed What is it? Hunter hand signs were supposed to quietly ask questions and give directions. It was a more complex version of the tactical hand signs used by military and police forces around the world. It wasn’t designed to hold a prolonged conversation.

Don’t know, I answered, Talk about it later. Nick looked a little calmer, but he still looked uneasy about what he had seen. I didn’t blame him, but it was disturbing to see that uneasy look on his face. Nick was always one of those who always looked at me like I was just another lycanthrope, instead of a Badmaoon.

After about fifteen minutes, which felt like an hour, the two Black Knights reentered the room, followed by another pair of lycanthropes. Both were standing in true form, with the traditional black robes draping off of them. The taller one, about Hangman’s height, was walking in an arrogant stride, not even bothering to look at the rest of us. Conversely, the shorter one, studied each of us before kneeling to the prince at the platform. The prince handled the introductions.

“He,” the prince said, pointing to the tall one, “is called Bradford. He is the son of one of the lords in Nebraska and has been sent here by the prince of Nebraska.” Nick stiffened. The prince pointed to the other one. “This is Chris Blackhawk, an important advisor, among other things.” Bradford now felt dignified to look at us. He kept his face impassive until he saw Nick.

“Well, it looks like my job is finally done,” Bradford said with a slimy smugness, “How are you, Nicholas? The prince is very interested in having you back in good shape, as is his daughter.” Nick took one step back from the tall lycanthrope, and that set me off. I was sick and tired of all these little games, and I wasn’t about to let this asshole talk to my best friend, who listened to me cry for Elizabeth’s safety on the way up here and would keep that secret from anyone who asked, like he was some prize. All of my pent-up rage and anger was released in one moment. With a quick leap, I was on top of the bastard, pinning him down to the steps of the platform with. One hand was wrapped around his throat. I was deciding what piece to slash when I felt like I had been hit with a live electrical wire. My heart jumped as the powerful shock threw me off of Bradford. I looked up at the prince, and saw another lycanthrope standing with him. This one was dressed in the black robes and he stood with an almost regal bearing. I didn’t know where the new lycanthrope came from, but I didn’t have time to contemplate that bit. Something physical hit me and threw me back a good ten feet. Whatever force protected me from magicks before wasn’t working at the moment. I really needed to figure out what had been happening to me. The Prince loomed over us.

“This is Marshall Yven, the Spiritmaster for Florida. I will not tolerate any more foolishness in my Manor,” the prince said, calmly but with the implied threat. At the mention of his name, I wondered if he was related to John Yven, the deputy Spiritmaster from my county that was now dead.

“What more can you expect from brutes?” asked the Spiritmaster, looking down at us. He sounded a lot like the Yven I knew, including the condescending way he talked to us. I was tempted to draw a gun on him and remind him that I could still hurt him even with his mastery of the magicks, but my body was still hurting from the lightning bolt – since magick caused archanal wounds – and Nick was making sure I didn’t try to fight anymore by standing over me. Bradford stood up shakily, looking over at me. I could see the fear in his eyes, although he tried to look angry. Blackhawk looked like he was about to explode into laughter. I wondered exactly who Blackhawk was and what his connection was to the prince. He acted like he was a close friend or advisor to the prince, but he didn’t look like the normal advisor that I had seen in the Hillsborough court.

“Nicholas Starson Hellfire,” the prince began, “You had been granted asylum in Florida from the prince of Nebraska. However, after careful reconsideration of your case, that asylum has been revoked. You are hereby required to return to your home state and obey the dictates of your prince. Bradford has been empowered as a marshal by your prince, and he is to escort you to Nebraska. Do you follow these dictates, or will you resist?” Longblade grinned with anticipation as the ultimatum was thrown down.

Nick stood towards the prince. “I will go with Bradford willingly, but first I must ask your highness to listen to my partners and I about the threat that awaits you.” The prince nodded, although he looked bored about the whole deal. “Several months ago, the Lord Stephen Vollen of Hillsborough was assassinated. The shot that was made could have only been made by a hunter for two reasons. The position that he fired from was awkward and difficult to hit from. Anyone but a skilled hunter could not have made that shot. Furthermore, the assassin used Silver Shok ammunition, an ammunition that is used almost exclusively by the Guild. The conclusion from this is that another lord had Vollen killed.

“The why is simple, Vollen’s death put his son on the throne of Hillsborough County. Moreover, it secured that whoever was behind it would not have to deal with the elder Vollen during the war council. We found documents on a computer disk to that effect. Your highness, there is a group of lords that fomented the fall of Hillsborough, and we believe are hoping to use the war council to force you off your throne.”

“I thank you for your testimony, Nicholas Hellfire,” the prince responded with a tired tone that conveyed a slight sarcasm, “But I’m quite sure that you’re mistaken. You will leave my state as soon as reasonable possible.”

“May I ask an indulgence to speak with my friends?” Nick ventured, “If I don’t they may act irrationally. They don’t understand what is going on.” The prince nodded, looking directly at me. Okay, I hadn’t exactly acquitted myself well. Nick gathered the two of around him.

“I know what the two of you are going to ask,” Nick said, “I had some trouble with the prince back home, and a friend of mine here offered to get me out. After his death in Broward, the Black Knights here wanted to send me back home, to protect the prince from any wrath of the Nebraska prince. What resulted was my coming to Tampa after a bad escape. That’s all you need to know right now.

“Right now, you two are going to need to protect each other. You can trust the Guildmaster, to a point. Everyone else is questionable. Ranger, I don’t know what happened earlier, but you better find out soon. And don’t give up on her.

“Hangman, find a way back to Tampa. The Guildmaster was right. You will be the new Guildmaster. Learn what you can up here, but get back quickly. I don’t know why the prince shrugged off the plot against him. Something vile is going on here. Be careful.” Nick walked over to Bradford, and the two of them walked out the double doors. Hangman and I stood next to each other without saying a word. The State Guildmaster walked up to the two of us, a sad look on his face.

“I didn’t want that to happen,” the Guildmaster said, as we turned to look at him, “Unfortunately, the prince is going to need all the external support he can get, and that includes the princedom of Nebraska. I know that doesn’t make you any less angry about this, but there’s nothing you can do. At any rate, the two of you will work for me, now.”

“I don’t think so,” said Blackhawk, who had silently walked up next to us, “The young one you can take, but I’m afraid the prince said Ranger could work for me.” The State Guildmaster’s face darkened and looked about ready to attack Blackhawk.

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked, pissed off that the two of them were treating me like a piece of equipment instead of a hunter more than capable of making his own decisions.

“Take a walk with me Ranger,” Blackhawk said in response, “I will explain a lot of things. I will also tell you why it’s important that you work for me.” Something about Blackhawk’s response intrigued me. I knew that it was a hook, but there was something about this lycanthrope that I needed to figure out. It was something that the back of my mind told me was important, and I hadn’t survived as long as I had by ignoring my instincts.

Blackhawk led me through the halls of the Manor to a large open courtyard. Having lost my sense of direction because of the twisting route, I wasn’t sure if we were still inside the Manor, or on the outside. The courtyard was about 250 square feet, fenced in by ten foot tall hedges. I was sure that there were redundant security devices in the hedge, but I didn’t want to ask Blackhawk anything, yet. Blackhawk projected an air of secrecy, like a seasoned spy. He knew things that I didn’t, and he knew that I wanted them. That, for some reason, gave him confidence. I didn’t know whether that made me want to laugh or be worried.

Blackhawk, himself, was not intimidating. We had shed our true forms for human form somewhere along the way to the courtyard. I suspected that we did that to protect him. Even in his lycanthrope form, he wasn’t big or particularly strong-looking. Even if he knew some form of martial arts, I was bigger enough to dominate the fight. In human form, his dark brown hair topped an unimpressive face. It wasn’t handsome or ugly, just average. Blackhawk could be anyone in a crowd. What disturbed me most about him were his eyes. I always looked into the eyes. It often told me what the owners were feeling or if they were hiding something. Blackhawk’s eyes were empty, completely vacant of any emotion. Only a faint spark of life told me that they were not dead.

“To answer your earlier question, I am Christopher Blackhawk, or Chris Major to the human world. I head the Society of the Claw and the Fang in Florida. We are made up of hunters, shaman, warriors, and kin. Our job is to act in the name of the King of the United States and to preserve the United States as a kingdom at all costs. We also act as informal advisors and spies for the princes of the states.” Blackhawk leaned on the wall to the Manor and pulled out a cigar. He lit up from a lighter that he produced from under his robes and then looked at me again.

“Why do you want me?” I retorted, “I’m just a hunter from one of the counties. I’m not even very good at the subtle stuff,” He just puffed on his cigar for a good thirty seconds before answering.

“You are not ‘just a hunter,’ Ranger,” Blackhawk answered, “I’ve seen the file that the State Guild has on you. According to them, you are one of the best hunters in Florida. In addition to being well-versed in the various weapons you’ve employed, the file notes that you’re a quick thinker and adjust easily to changing situations. As for the subtle stuff, the Society has plenty of quiet operators – spies, if you will – but the Florida Society is lacking in lycanthropes who can do wetwork easily and efficiently. Your record in Hillsborough is proof enough of that. Did you or did you not take down three vampires because you smelled them out?” He was referring to the incident at the camp when I was guarding the pups. I nodded slowly.

“I also know that you probably want to know what is in this deal for you. I can guarantee a certain amount of freedom in the execution of your duties, in addition to providing full material support. You will have to have a partner, but I can also guarantee that she will meet the stringent rules that we have for abilities and physical fitness.”

“She?” I asked, incredulously. We had no female lycanthropes in the Hillsborough chapter of the Guild, and the number of female hunters is very low anyhow. The reasons are simple. Females aren’t as physically built for hunting as males are, and they usually can’t handle the intense harassment of the training. This doesn’t mean that female hunters are any less capable than male hunters, quite the contrary. Once they get through the training, female hunters are some of the most devious and cold-hearted hunters in the Guild. It is just that as a whole, females are more likely to fail the training then males.

“Yes, she.” Blackhawk replied, slightly annoyed, “Put that look away. The partner I have in mind is a kin that has more or less, grown up in black operations. She is a master at compiling and analyzing vast amounts of intelligence. She has been very useful to the Society in the past, coming up with refined information that none of the others had seen in the original data. The problem is, she’s being wasted here in Tallahassee. By the time she has gotten us the polished data, the tactical situation has changed. It’s not her fault, but rather the fact that our field operatives are better at gathering information than analyzing and acting on it. This is where you come in.”

“Let me guess. I’m supposed to protect her as we gather up the data that you want. In addition, I’m supposed to be the one that acts on any of the truly time-sensitive things we find. This doesn’t sound very appealing. Who’s going to cover me during all of this?”

“We have contacts in most of the Guild chapters in Florida, but don’t you have your own network of allies?” he asked, almost in a mocking tone. I leveled a glare at him and crossed my arms, waiting for him to restart the conversation. If he wanted me that badly, he could make the next move.

“At any rate,” he began after another fifteen seconds of silence, “My offer is firm. Furthermore, where will you better serve in the coming war with the leeches, in the State Guild preparing for missions, or in the Society, actually doing them?” That last line bit into me. I never was one to miss out on action. However, there were a few nagging doubts, and a specific job in mind that I still needed to do.

“I’ll meet the kin first, then I’ll give you my decision.” I could see the triumph in his eyes. He was sure that he had me, and I wasn’t sure that he was wrong.

“That is a perfectly acceptable answer Ranger,” he said, maintaining a level voice, “What say we meet at a coffee house I know in town? It’s called the Java Spear. The Guildmaster will know where it is.” With that, he left the courtyard, leaving me alone to think. A great deal had occurred in the past few hours. I saw my best friend hauled off to Nebraska, of all places, and a strange lycanthrope offer me a position doing what I was good at. There was something else that I had not really resolved. I still didn’t know if Elizabeth was dead or alive. We didn’t have a lot of time together, and none of it in private, excluding the meeting in the prison cell. Amongst all the problems of the aristocracy, my personal life had fallen by the wayside, again. Now, however, there was actually something in my personal life that needed my attention. I wished that Nick was there in the courtyard for me to bounce off ideas, but he was gone, and I was to tread on unfamiliar ground by myself.

I must have sat there for at least a couple of hours, because Hangman joined me, apparently looking for me. He sat down beside me silently and stared at the vegetation. I didn’t think he knew I was aware he was there. Finally he took an audible breath after sitting for a good minute and a half.

“I’ve known that you were there for a while now Hangman, so you can come out and say what you were going to say.” He looked directly at me, as I turned to face him. I could tell he was in pain.

“You’re going to go with that Blackhawk, aren’t you?” he asked, though it sounded more as a statement than a question.

“Yes,” I answered, finally truly answering the question for myself.

“Well that’s just fucking great. First Nick is shipped off to Nebraska and now you’re leaving the Guild to go play with that fucking dog. Just what in the hell am I supposed to do?” I took a long look at Hangman. His features, even obscured by fur, were strained. I had actually forgotten how truly young he was compared to Nick and me. We were his mentors, much as the Guildmaster had been mine. We had protected him. We had continued his training. Now, we were disappearing from his life.

“Hangman, over the short time I’ve known you,” I began, “You’ve proved yourself countless times as an effective and even a superb hunter. What you are going to do is take your ass back to the State Guild and teach those arrogant bastards exactly what a county hunter can do. I know you can beat them, because Nick and I taught you how. As for me, I need the freedom of action that Chris offered me. I need the chance to go back to Hillsborough.”

“To go look for the Lady-Apparent?” Hangman asked, reading my mind. I nodded my head. “You love her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, and it’s only taken me the last five hours to figure that out. You know, I always thought that love was a damn stupid thing for a hunter to feel, considering what we do. Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Nick was right. This is the first time for you isn’t it?” Hangman asked. Anger flashed through me as the thought of Nick betraying a confidence of mine to Hangman. It subsided as I realized that Hangman probably had been extremely worried about me during some of my depressive bouts on the ride up. I guess I would’ve done the same thing.

“Yeah,” I answered, nodding my head, “I was taken to the training grounds right after Initiation. My first teacher was a crusty old bastard who loved to drill his students into the ground, either by training or his fists, but he taught us how to think unconventionally and win by doing so. After training, I came back to Hillsborough. After a couple of embarrassing situations with a couple of the older hunters of the Guild, I made a decision to become the best there was.”

“And you did, neglecting everything else, huh?” I nodded at Hangman’s question. “I know how you feel, sort of. I met a girl during tysach but she told me after Initiation that she wouldn’t become involved with a hunter. So, I left her and became a hunter. Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice.”

“You did. You have the knack for this job, and you handle yourself well.” I got up, dusting off the robes as I stood. Hangman did the same. “Now, how do we get out of here?”

“We can just walk around the Manor until a Black Knight shows up and escorts us back to the tunnel.” Hangman shed his true form for human.

“Sounds like a plan to me. Especially if it involves annoying the Knights.”

I awoke the next morning surrounded by unfamiliar settings. It took me a moment to remember that I was back in the State Guild. As I sat up in the dimness of the room, I vaguely remembered the roundabout route through the Manor that Hangman and I had taken. We actually had been finally escorted to the tunnel by a pair of unsmiling Knights after we made a slight mess in the kitchen. I looked over to the other bunk in the room to see if Hangman was still there. He was still sleeping soundly after a long night of training. Hangman told the State Guildmaster that he was going to stay with the State Guild. So, the Guildmaster had taken Hangman to the training officer and the two of the sparred together for most of the night. I was barely awake when a very exhausted Hangman swayed into the room and collapsed on his bunk. Satisfied that he was mostly comfortable and still alive, I stood up and walked over to the chest of drawers that I placed some of my things the night previously.

I put on a pair of jeans with a simple white t-shirt. My well-worn work boots slipped on my feet and my USP slid into its small-of-the-back holster. I made myself look somewhat presentable and walked out into the hall. Much to my relief, a small map of the State Guild was taped to the door. I memorized the directions to the Guildmaster’s office and left the map for Hangman.

As I navigated through the mass of corridors and staircases, I went over what I was going to talk to the Guildmaster. He struck me as a reliable lycanthrope. Right now, reliable information was what I needed. I had never heard of the Society of the Claw and the Fang until this Blackhawk wolf told me about them, and I was still suspect about what sketchy details that I was given.

I walked right into the Guildmaster’s office like I would have done with my Guildmaster. It may have been arrogant on my part, but I really didn’t care. So much emotional pain ran through me. In less than a week, I lost just about everything and everyone that I actually cared about. At that moment, I needed to know if the Society would be able to help me, or if I needed to go back to Hillsborough on my own.

The State Guildmaster was sitting behind his desk, pouring over a pair of documents. I quietly sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and waited while he continued to read. I knew he was ignoring me, so I was just going to wait him out. It was a technique I had perfected with the my Guildmaster. Finally, after about ten minutes, he looked up at me.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, slightly surprised, “I thought you were my nephew. I was wondering why he was waiting so patiently. Usually he begins to become annoying after about five minutes. Okay, Ranger, what do you want to know about the Society?”

“So they are a real organization?” I asked, not exactly surprised that he knew why I was there. Idiots do not become Guildmasters. They usually just join the Order of Spirits.

“Yes, but I don’t know to whom they report to. They say the King of the United States, but I doubt that.”

“Then who do you think they report to?”

“I think they used to report to the King, but now they follow their own agenda. They’ve got contacts and operatives throughout the United States. You can always find their leaders near the princes. I don’t want to sound paranoid, but from what I’ve seen of them, they act much like the power behind the throne of the kingdom.”

“What exactly do they do?” I asked the Guildmaster.

“In Florida, they gather information for the prince as well as conduct limited jobs,” the State Guildmaster answered with a very annoyed look on his face, “I’ll be frank and tell you that I don’t like them. The Society does many of the same things that the Guild is supposed to do, but the Prince likes Blackhawk, and values the intelligence the Society presents. The Society has more diverse resources than the Guild, but they are geared more to intelligence gathering, but they’ve been doing more jobs, especially in the disputed territories and against lords suspected of disloyalty. I figured that was what Blackhawk wanted you to bolster his operational agents.”

I nodded to that comment, and then leaned back into the chair. I pondered what I the Guildmaster had just told me. It wasn’t making me feel any better about my prospective employer, especially the part about investigating and operating against lords. It made a certain amount of sense from the Prince’s standpoint, but the nebulous nature of the Society didn’t sit well with me. I also still didn’t that I never heard of the Society, and it was something that someone in the top tier of a county chapter should have heard about. I wasn’t sure if it was something that the Guildmaster knew about and didn’t or couldn’t talk to me about, or if the Society had hidden itself from him as well. Either was possible, and it was setting all sorts of alarms in my head.

“Blackhawk wants me to play the enforcer to one of his analysts,” I told the State Guildmaster, “I don’t know if I trust him, but he offered me a free range of action for the data that the analyst and I come up with. Do you know anything about a kin analyst genius of theirs?” The State Guildmaster shook his head.

“Their personnel records are well guarded. I don’t know who half of them are, and the few I do know are former State hunters who left the Guild to go work with them. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to meet my prospective partner at this ‘Java Spear’ place in town. Then I’ll decide.” I paused for a moment before continuing. “Either way I decide, I won’t be joining the State Guild.”

“What?” the State Guildmaster asked, shocked by my statement. He had a right to be. Very few hunters refused the opportunity to join the State Guild, and for good reason. For all the mocking that county hunters leveled at the state hunters, we understood that the state hunters were the best, and we wanted to be part of that team. A few months ago, I would have jumped at the chance to be part of the State Guild. Now, though, things were vastly different.

There was more to it for myself. Lycanthrope society is based on belonging to a pack that belongs to a bigger pack and so on up to the Great Pack. It was the same for hunters. We belonged to the county chapter as our main pack, but for Hangman and myself, our main pack was destroyed. Without a Guildmaster, or even a county lord (Ancestors, I hope she is still alive), Hangman and I technically belonged to the State Guildmaster. My telling the State Guildmaster that I would not join the State Guild was a direct challenge to his authority. I knew that I needed to walk carefully.

“If I don’t join the Society, I will be going back to Hillsborough,” I answered, trying to keep an emotionless mask on my face, “I have to go back.” The State Guildmaster’s face flashed with anger, but quickly regained its controlled composure.

“I know that you had a very, liberal, relationship with your Guildmaster,” the State Guildmaster said in tightly controlled tones, “I hope that you are not expecting me to honor that same relationship? If so, I will quickly disabuse you of that. Unless the Society grabs you, you are my hunter. I do not allow my hunters to dictate their orders to me.”

“Sir, you’ve been very open with Hangman and me, so I’ll try and do the same for you,” I said, leaning forward, “I’m hoping that you’ll be giving me permission to go back in, but there’s something else at stake here.”

“Who is so important to you that you would walk into a suicide mission?” he asked in reply. His question caught me off-guard, and he chuckled at my momentary surprise. “I’ve been the State Guildmaster for a while. Most of the time a county hunter refuses an invitation is because of a mate or family. You have no family except for the Guild, and the pained look on your face means that your mate is still behind in Hillsborough. We have no information about your personal life, so it must be a new development.”

“The Lady-Apparent,” I mumbled. It still sounded preposterous to me, so I could imagine how outrageous it sounded to someone who hadn’t been there. The State Guildmaster’s eyes bulged with shock, and then he threw his head back and laughed. Sudden anger consumed me and I had to restrain the impulse to attack the State Guildmaster. The impulse startled me. I occasionally threatened to thrash some of the higher ranking lycanthropes, but it never went beyond the verbal. This was a visceral reaction that sliced through my honed controls, and it scared me a bit. Did I have no control over these no emotions and what they wanted me to do? My reactions did not go unnoticed by the State Guildmaster.

“I’m sorry Marcus,” the State Guildmaster said, “That was rude of me. It was just so reminiscent of bad drama – and you have to live with it.” He sat quiet for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. “I know you. I’ve seen you many times in the State Guild. Hunters so dedicated to the profession that anything outside the Guild catches them off-guard. You aren’t thinking like the professional I need. Is that a fair summary?”

“Yes,” I said, thoroughly embarrassed by the State Guildmaster’s skewering assessment. “My professionalism is ashamed, but the rest of me doesn’t give a damn. I’m sorry if that doesn’t make sense.”

“Makes plenty of sense,” the State Guildmaster answered, “I even remember a certain state hunter that gave up everything to marry a chapter hunter – even though everyone else damn near commanded her not to. Amber was a good friend, and a damned good hunter.” The revelation that the State Guildmaster knew Mrs. Werstand caught me off-guard. Damn, that was happening a lot lately.

“I sent in a hit pack in to reconnoiter Hillsborough,” the State Guildmaster said, “Their initial report came in just before you walked in this morning.” He looked like he was bracing himself. “The hit pack found no lycanthropes, but more vampires and ghouls than any other county – including the disputed territories. You and Samuel may have been the only survivors. If you want to go down there, I owe it to Amber and you to let you. Ancestors knows that you would probably have a better chance than any of my wolves, but you have to know that you will probably be walking in to a death trap.”

“I kind of figured that out on my own,” I replied, my normal sarcasm suddenly reappearing, “I know I’m not thinking clearly. That’s one of the few reasons I’m thinking hard about joining the Society.”

“I think this is the first time I actually want someone to work for Blackhawk,” the State Guildmaster said, “Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll drive you.”

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