At her mention of a hunter, I hop down into the courtyard. The man and woman startle, accidentally dropping their human glamour slightly and showing what they truly are. I already know, though. Some of us supes, myself included, can see through glamour, straight to someone’s core. Just by looking at someone, I know not only what kind of supernatural they are, but I’m also able to see what kind of person they are, including the good and the bad they are capable of.
The man—a centaur—squares his shoulders and balls his fists. He has no chance against me, but I’ll let him think he does. “Who the fuck are you?”
Standing tall, I roll my shoulders back and crack my neck. “I’m going to guess you guys aren’t detectives of any sort because I’ve been up on that ledge since before you arrived, and I’m about ninety-five percent certain neither of you spotted me up there. Needless to say, I suggest you brush up on your senses to avoid being attacked in the future. Now, if you are detectives, I think I need to speak to your supervisor.”
The woman—a siren—crosses her arms and furrows her brows. “First off, rude. Second, you didn’t answer his question. Who are you?”
I place my hand on my chest and gasp. “You mean you can’t tell just by looking at me? I actually allowed myself to be in my own skin for once! Everyone tells me my reputation precedes me, but I have a feeling they lie to make me feel better,” I say. When neither acknowledges me, I let out an exasperated breath. “You’re no fun. But youarein luck; you’ve found yourself a hunter. I smelled the blood of the victim over a mile away, so I came to check it out.”
The centaur lets his eyes roam up and down my body. I can practically feel the skepticism rolling off him. Rarely am I the one everyone assumes would be involved in this type of work. I’m most definitely not skinny, but there’s a lot of muscle underneath my curves.
Looks can be deceiving, though, especially when you can alter them.
The centaur tenses his jaw. “How do we know you’re not the one who did this?”
I roll my eyes. “You’d know if I was the one to do this because my victims look nothing like this once I’m done with them.”
“Interesting,” the siren muses before tapping her finger on her arm. “What are you doing here? I haven’t heard about any cases from nearby cities being taken over by The D.A.M.N.E.D. recently.”
Okay, let me explain this really quickly. D.A.M.N.E.D. is the acronym for the organization I work for. It’s short for Deathless Agents for Monster Neutralization, Erasure, and Destruction. It’s a mouthful, hence why we call it The D.A.M.N.E.D. The organization has hunters all over the world, and while I may work for them, I’m more of a freelancer. I take the cases I want, not what they try to give me. I’m older than nearly all our council members, and everyone has learned over the years just to let me do what I please. They know things will get done when I feel they’re important enough.
“I was just passing through to get myself home. Just got done with a case a few days ago and I needed to rest for a bit,” I lie.
The siren glances between me and the centaur. “I know we don’t really have the jurisdiction, but would you be able to look over the scene and coordinate with the responding agency when they get here? At least this way,someonecan kick-start this investigation. We can’t afford for there to be any more bodies.”
“Why not,” I say as I stroll over to where the woman lies facedown and squat beside her lifeless body. She’s still got some color to her, and when I touch her, I find she’s still warm, which means she was likely killed only a few hours ago.
I look back at the siren, hoping she’d be the one to be more aware of her surroundings than her male counterpart, and ask, “Did you guys pass anyone, or anything, on your way into the courtyard?”
Her brows furrow as she takes a moment to think, and then looks at the centaur. “I don’t think there was anything that stood out, but I guess I wasn’t really paying attention.” Of fucking course she wasn’t. Assuming makes an ass out of you and meafter all. She continues, “One of our tenants in this apartment building told us something weird was going on out here, but wouldn’t tell us what, so we just came to check things out.”
Quirking my head, I ask, “Wait. Are you guys part of T.I.T.S.?”
Yes, you read that right… T.I.T.S. It’s short for Taskforce for the Integration and Tracking of Supernaturals. Whoever named the organization wasnotthinking about what everyone would shorten it down to.
The siren rolls her eyes and huffs out a breath. “I wish people would stop calling it that. It’s so fucking childish.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Maybe y’all should change the name then.”
The centaur joins in my laughter. “I still think it’s funny, but clearly not everyone on the force thinks like I do. Especially Maliah here.”
Maliah’s head whips to where the centaur stands. Her teal eyes take on a metallic shine as she stares him down. “Grow the fuck up, Alastair.”
“So testy tonight. Have you not lured someone to their death recently?” Alastair asks with a playful lilt to his voice.
The color of Maliah’s eyes intensifies as her cheeks flush a beautiful shade of pink. “That’s not fucking funny, and you know it. Especially in the presence of a hunter. While we’re mere feet from a dead body.”
I shrug my shoulders. “We all do what we have to in order to survive in this world. There isn’t a contract out for you, and I know you’re a siren, so these marks aren’t from you. Nothing to worry about from me.”
All color drains from Maliah’s face, and her mouth falls open. “That one moment where my glamour slipped wasn’t enough for you to tell what I am.”
A smirk tips up the corners of my lips. “Sweetheart, I’m a hunter. It’s my job to know what—and who—surrounds me at any given time. Plus, I can see through glamour.”
Maliah’s eyes roll again, and I let out a light laugh before returning my attention to the body before me. I brush the hair from the woman’s face, revealing deep gashes across her cheeks and mouth. The four gashes are spaced just far enough apart that I know they were caused by claws.
I run my gaze further down her body, looking for any other wounds the attacker may have inflicted. There’s a pool of blood under her midsection, but I can’t see the extent of the wound with the way her body is positioned, so I roll her onto her back. On the side that was facing the ground, I see the exact reason why there’s so much blood. Her intestines have been ripped apart, and all her remaining organs are now spilling out of her abdomen.
Something feasted on her. And I have a feeling the only reason it stopped was because it was interrupted.
