Page 3 of Of Hearts and Hunters (Fallen Crowns Duet #1)

VERITY

I hate to say it, but I’m actually nervous about tonight.

It’s not like I haven’t been part of raids before. I’ve been in plenty of combat situations–either with the entire pack or in small hunting parties organized by Paxton and/or Megsie. But I haven’t actually done any solo missions.

I guess as the Kormo, it’s my job to show the pack that a) I can do things by myself and for the Korama faction, and b) that I’m strong enough to kill a Vamp Prince and avenge Freddie.

I’m on pins and needles all the way home. I keep feeling like someone’s watching me, but no one is ever there. My Korama senses are on overdrive. I know I wouldn’t have missed a stalker. I just can’t shake the feeling that I’m under threat.

Maybe it’s because the entire Korama community knows that I’ve been promoted to third-in-command and lots of them are pissed about it.

I unlock and open the door to the house that I share with Briony Moon, Bodhi’s granddaughter. I don’t believe in labels or anything like that, but Briony is my closest friend and one of the only people I trust. We both work at The Azalea Tavern, but she’s definitely my opposite in a lot of ways. I’m short, she’s tall. She’s quieter and softer around the edges, while I’m like a bulldozer. We’ve been friends since kindergarten.

I’d give my life for Briony–which is another reason why I’m taking this mission so seriously that I’m practically shitting my pants over it.

I close the door behind me, brushing my long brown hair out of my face. Briony convinced me to get it coloured a couple of weeks ago, to an ‘ash-brown balayage look,’ as she called it. I actually really like it, but I’d never tell anyone that. I don’t have time to care about things like my hair.

“Veri?”

I turn, seeing Briony skipping down the stairs to the foyer. She’s grinning from ear to ear. Another difference between us: she’s a happy person, whereas I’m–

“Hey,” I respond, unable to hide a smile.

“Your shift ran late,” she observes, leaning against the wall while hovering on the last step. Her long red hair is pulled up into a loose bun. It looks like she was painting; green is gently splashed onto her cheeks. Briony usually paints nature pictures.

“Yeah. Had to talk to your grandpa about getting tomorrow morning off,” I admit as I lock the door and place my tote bag onto the floor.

Briony raises a light eyebrow at that. “You? Taking time off? Since when?” she accuses.

I sigh, knowing there’s no way around this as I lean against the closed door. “Paxton and Megsie want me to–”

“Ah. Kill the new Vamp Prince,” Briony guesses, jerking her head lower and in the direction of my tote bag. “I can smell the rot from here. Why’d you have to bring it into the house , Veri?” she adds like I brought a rat corpse in here. Honestly, she’s not far off.

I roll my eyes, but I know what she’s saying. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so uncomfortable all day–because I’ve been carrying around a literal representation of a Vampyr this entire time. His scent is on that damn beanie. Once he’s dead, I’m going to set it on fire.

I’m sure most pack members figured an initiation ritual was coming for me. New members as well as promotions go through some kind of stunt to solidify their standing in the pack and the Korama community at large. We’ve sworn to protect the Korama residents in Vancouver, so the Korma and Kormi take these kinds of decisions very seriously.

Which means they must have had good reasons to pick me–though I still think they’re wrong about me.

“Yeah. It’s gross,” I agree, looking disdainfully at my tote bag that I’ll have to throw into a tub of bleach once this Vamp Prince is deader than dead.

“Tonight’s a full moon. I guess you’ll be hopping to, then,” Briony muses, looking out the window on the wall opposite the stairs. Her green eyes are concerned.

“What’s wrong, Bree?” I ask.

She looks over at me. “You know they’ll have increased security at Vamp HQ because of last time,” she points out. “Paxton and Megsie just assume you won’t need any help?”

I shrug. “It’s been four months since we killed their Prince. They’re probably not suspecting anything now.” I hesitate. “And even if they do, you know I love a good vamp showdown.”

“Rushing in without back-up was what killed Freddie,” Briony warns me, revealing the reason for her worry. “Don’t do something stupid and impulsive just to prove yourself, Veri.”

I give her a small smile. “Come on, Bree. I’ll be fine. It’ll take a lot more than a newbie Vamp Prince to get me. Besides, Paxton said something about waiting at the border with Megsie.”

I bend down to pick up my tote bag and walk through the foyer into our small kitchen to get some water. I’m trying to act cool and collected about tonight so I don’t worry Briony, but I gotta say, as jazzed as I am to kick this baby vamp’s ass, I’m more than a little worried about, well, getting my own ass beat. Not by him, but by the security at the manor. But if I back down now–

I’d be disobeying a direct order from the Korma and Kormi.

That can’t happen.

I need to suck it up and go.

It’s close to eleven o’clock at night. I’m huddled up in our unfinished basement, waiting for the pain to begin. Basically, it’ll feel like I’m on fire–and then all my bones will break and reset to make way for the wolf that will rip me from the inside out.

I’m sweating. Alert to my surroundings. Agitated. I can feel the effects of pre-transition on my body. It’ll only get worse from here on out: my skin will burn hotter, and I’ll be drenched with sweat.

It’ll start any minute now.

I’ve made up my mind. I’m going in tonight, alone. Pack rules dictate that we can always use the Distress Call if we need back-up, but I want to prove myself. And if people are already doubting my abilities as the new Kormo, I need to do this thing solo.

It’s been four months since the last Vampyr Prince was killed. Plus, with us down a pack member, the vamps probably don’t think we’ll be brave enough to counterattack.

But they aren’t expecting me.

I pull my damp hair into a hasty ponytail. Heat flashes up and down my body, aching down my spine. The fiery agony makes it feel like my skin is actually burning.

Now that I’ve been a member of the Cold Moon Pack for four years and have been turning since I hit puberty at twelve, my transitions aren’t as long. People say Koramas’ transition times are less painful as the years tick by, but mine still hurt like a mother.

The first bones break, like branches splintering off a tree getting struck by lightning. I grit my teeth and arch my back in response. I never cry during transitions–just scream.

Briony is with Bodhi right now at his place, so she will be shifting there. At least she won’t see me in Focus Mode before the hunt. I’d never tell her, but her worry was kind of psyching me out. But I can’t blame her. Briony was close with Freddie too. She called him her brother. She can’t lose anyone else.

And deep down, I can’t either.

I lower my head. I close my eyes, distracting myself from more broken bones by zeroing in on the Vampyr’s scent.

Darren.

I don’t know what he looks like, how old he is, or if he’ll put up a fight. I’m assuming he’ll be easy to beat because he’s a freshly turned vamp–but sometimes, the fresh ones are fearless and just throw their weight around, not knowing any better.

But I have years of experience on this vamp–experience with fighting, ambushing, strategy, battle formations.

He won’t know what hit him.

That’s what makes me hang onto my sanity as the ache grows to an unbearable level. I’m clenching my teeth against the waves of pain that rock my body back and forth. With each new wave comes more bones snapping and resetting themselves.

Fuck!

My spine is splintering apart now. Stars smash into my vision, making me choke back the bread roll I had for lunch.

This is a tell tale sign I’ll suck as a Kormo. Higher-ups can tolerate the pain. Perform under pressure. They don’t fear death or the possibility of it.

Yeah. This is gonna work.

Time gets away from me, like always. Maybe an hour passes. Maybe a half hour. No idea. All I know is that the agony is especially bad this time.

There’s a lot riding on this transition, on this full moon. It could be the pressure rocking my nerves, making me shake violently against the mind-numbing torture of my body morphing into a wolf.

I throw my head back, yanking my hair out of its ponytail and screaming. Thank God our neighbours are Koramas too. They won’t call the cops or report us. Full moons are pretty crazy around here. Even older people who don’t shift as often understand.

I’m fully shifted now. My eyesight is ten times better than it was before: the shadows and dusty corners of our basement are clearer. Thanks to the wolf, my vision is good in human form too. But there’s no mistaking it. When a Korama has shifted, it’s much stronger than any other time of the month. And the vamps often use that to their advantage, attacking us when we are human and vulnerable. Bastards.

I rush for the open window in the basement, landing softly on soft snow. I guess there’s one advantage to being small: I can squeeze through small places. I hate my height otherwise. It’s always been a sore spot for me, and my pack-mates don’t let me forget about it, calling me ‘runt’ as a joke or flat-out insult. Either way, it pisses me off.

I’m not one of those girls who loves herself. I’m short, which has always gotten me made fun of. Even my wolf form is small. That’s probably why I’m a ‘crusty bitch’ as Freddie affectionately called me, most of the time. I’m trying to make up for my smaller size. I mean, there’s more to my fucked up life besides that–but I don’t want to think about it right now.

The dark section of the city surrounding the national parks is our domain. Though I’d never do this under normal circumstances–the Korma warns us never to cross the border, especially alone–I swing myself forward, dancing through the shadows, heading for Vamp Territory.

Vampyrs have the glossier part of town, where all the tourists ‘ooh’ and ‘ahhh.’ The Magicena (AKA sparklies) occupy the older side of the province, bordering the Pacific Ocean. So we all have our own territory, but it’s not like that’s ever been enough. They’re always on our asses, wanting our parks and land. Plus, there’s the big thing: they want us dead.

I see other wolves along the fringes of the bush as I rush faster and faster for the border to Vamp HQ. I can feel their eyes on me, judging or expecting me to perform. I feel like a damn pup all over again.

I’d better get this done, and get it done well.

I hate doing this kind of crap. I’m not some dancing bear. But I guess making people happy or at least content with my leadership means I gotta dance sometimes .

The icy city blocks leading to the border have an eerie tone to them, and I begin to smell vamps. My senses aren’t triggering me to a nearby threat, though. It’s just that the stench is getting harder to ignore.

Anxiety claws at my brain. I’m alone in this fight. If I get overwhelmed by vamps trying to protect the fresh meat, I could easily die. Sure, it takes a lot to kill a Korama, but when there are three or four vamps on sight–

Stop. Don’t go there. Don’t think about–

But it’s hopeless. Freddie’s death swarms into my mind, causing a low growl to escape from deep within my throat.

He might have rushed in, but he was still murdered.

And now, I’m gonna even the score.

And if I have to die to do it, I don’t give a fuck.

This is for you, Freddie.

The ritzier buildings are shiny and stupid even in the dark. The yuppy joints around here make me sick. I stick to the shadows to conceal my pawprints, constantly scanning my environment.

Every nerve, every bone in my body, is on edge. I know I need to keep an eye out for straggling vamps. They’re active at night, though there are some that can somehow get around during the day. Paxton and Megsie are trying to figure that one out, but it’s not like I need to worry about that now.

I’m curious as to where everyone is. I haven’t seen or sensed one vamp, and I’m deep into Vamp Country. In fact, that dumb mansion is within sight. I guess with vamps living on this side of town, their stench would just linger like a rotting garbage smell–but still. It’s weird that I can’t see anyone in the vicinity.

When I circle Vamp HQ from the outskirts, the sparkling fountains and bright lights make me cling to the darkness. The last thing I want is to be discovered. Thankfully, I’m a black wolf. That’ll make my job even easier.

Sticking to the half-alive shrubberies near the manor, I hear breathing that isn’t mine. I halt and crouch, flattening my ears. The breathing is normal, calm. Whoever is out here doesn’t know that I’m nearby. But they’ll be able to find my pawprints in the snow if they sense my presence, so I’m careful.

I concentrate. I hear another heartbeat besides mine.

My Korama senses tell me another Vampyr is out here–plus, there’s the God-awful vamp stink to back it up, turning my stomach and alerting me to the fact that the enemy is close by.

Vamps still breathe and have heartbeats–probably a result of years and years of trying to blend into the community. The point is, if I can hear their heartbeats, they can hear mine. Even more reason to be cautious.

There’s a vamp out here. They might interfere with my mission, but even if they wouldn’t or couldn’t, I’m still gonna off them.

The best thing I can do right now is sit tight and wait for this vamp to get closer to me. Evaluate them and plan a strategy. I can’t rush in and rip their throat out, even though I really want to. I need to be smart. Smarter. I’m a Kormo now. I need to remember my plan: to sneak into Vamp HQ (quietly, if possible) and track down the Prince. Murdering a sleeping newbie vamp in his bedroom sounds just about right–especially after Freddie’s gruesome death.

It takes a while. I’m patient, though. A kill this important will take time. And besides, I need to get past this vamp to get to the Prince.

The footsteps I’m hearing are coming around the bend, from the back of the manor. Maybe someone’s patrolling the grounds. But there’s only one vamp out here, not a few, like I expected.

Huh. Security sucks around here.

This is great. For me.

The footsteps draw closer. I bring myself as low to the ground as possible. And that’s when it hits me.

I must have hit the lottery!

That’s him.

The brand-new Vampyr Prince is out here alone, like a sitting duck! I couldn’t have planned this any better.

He’s mine.

Every fiber of my being wants to attack him right now and rip his head clean off his shoulders–but I wait. He may be a baby vamp, but I need to follow protocol. Wait for him to show himself and plan accordingly.

I hold my breath when I spy him through the bushes. He’s a tall guy, but it’s hard to tell anything else about him from this angle. He’s wearing a leather jacket with a hood pulled up over his head. Probably fucking ashamed that he’s a vamp.

He can’t sense me or hear me. New vamps are famous for not knowing how to distinguish between the three factions. And if by some miracle he can hear me, he might even think another vamp is out here instead of his killer. Another point in my favour.

He’s gonna wish he stayed dead the first time.