Witch Hunts

Prologue


She knew she wasn’t safe as she made her way outside to her car. She could feel the warning spreading through every limb of her body. They were watching her from the darkness. They were going to attack tonight, waiting for an opening.
She prayed it was just her imagination. That she was just being paranoid. She had managed to keep her hands clean of any blood. All she wanted was to get home safely. She couldn’t die before she started to live and she wouldn’t let them take that away from her.
It was a very dark cold night. No moon hung in the sky and it seemed with every step she took, streetlights dimmed. She knew it would be a miracle if she made it out of this alive. She always made a point not to go out after sundown or make sure to stay among lots of humans so she knew she would be safe from them.
‘They’ were changelings, Werewolves to be exact, the ones that have been out for her family since she was born. The changelings were convinced that her family, the Hunter bloodline, was to breed a child that could destroy their whole race with the right training.
Her mother had been one of the gifted family members with the power to destroy. Unfortanetly her mother couldn’t get everything together and ready in time. Hatred, the leader of the changelings, the alpha male, hunted down her mother and tore the women to shreds.
Her and her younger sister had come home to find a blood bath of their mother spread everywhere in their home. There was a note written in their mother’s blood that stated, ‘you can run and you can hide, but we will find you and we will destroy you like we did to your precious mother.’
She had sent her younger sister to New Orleans to live with their mother’s best friend. She had moved to the west coast, to Los Angles to make a life for herself. She was working as a secretary at her boyfriend’s attorney office and going to college to get her History Major.
The way she felt right now, terrified, was how she felt the night she had come across her mother’s remains. She heard a sound behind her as she made her way to her car. She glanced over her shoulder to see nothing, but she knew they were there. She kept walking, quickening her pace as she went.
Her sister and her were the last ones in their ancient bloodline. Their family tree had been traced all the way to back before B.C. It was not time for it to evaporate into thin air. She had tried so hard to find someone to help her, but no one believed in werewolves or other paranormal nonsense.
There was a howling off to her right and her heart stop dead in her chest, then sped up in her increasing terror. She glanced off to her right and saw nothing. She picked up her pace to a jog. Emerging from the fog in front of her stood a huge black wolf about four feet tall with vicious white gleaming teeth, eyes glowing an eerie yellow.
She turned to run back the way she came, but there were two more to block her path. She was surrounded with no way of escape. The panic was rising up in her chest, but she pushed it back down. She lifted her chin to a defianet tilted. She was not going to die a coward. She would go fighting until the very end.
She sized her opponents up and down, every wolf’s muscles twitching, waiting for someone to make the first move. There were ten of the Changelings around her, staring at her with hungry eyes. There was no way she was going to survive this without help. She swallowed her terror and made her voice work. Surprisingly it came out strong and steady.
“Okay, you bastards, it’s all or nothing.” She pulled out two pistols loaded with silver bullets from under her coat. Shots rang out through the silent night and she nailed four of the wolves. They hit the ground howling in pain. Another one came at her from the right side and she kicked him in the side of the head, sending him spiraling backwards. She unloaded a bullet into its limp body.
One slammed into her back, knocking her to the cement, face first. The pistols flew out of her hands and landed a good ten feet away, in front of the big black wolf. She knew it was over for herself, but she was going to take one more with her.
She pulled a silver knife out from the side of her left boot and buried the blade to the hilt into the closest Changeling’s chest. Blood splattered across her face and it slid down the handle of her knife onto her arm. She pushed the body of the dead dog off her and tried to roll to her feet. Too late. The remaining wolves were already grabbing at her limbs.
Their teeth sank into her flesh and she bit back a scream of pain. There was no way she was going to give them the satisfaction of hearing her cry out. She was not going to give these cursed creatures the pleasure of hearing her anguish. One of the dogs ripped her leg clean out of the socket. A whimper escaped on its own accord as she stared at the sky.
Please, keep my sister safe. She is our only hope now. She prayed in her mind hoping that someone heard her in the heavens. Her vision starting to fade as the pain bore down on her. She just wanted to die, but the Changelings had made a point to make her death as painful and slow as possible. Her limbs were scattered across the pavement, blood soaking the ground, matting the fur of the wild beasts tearing at her. She was so numb with pain that she barely felt the fangs slid into her jugular. She was so weak and was slowly, but surely starting to fade away.
Her vision went black and her body going limp on the cold blood splattered concrete. The wolves above her tore viciously at her body, enjoying the taste of her flesh. Her last thought was of her sister. Then all was gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

From the rooftop, a tall dark deadly figure stood looking down on the blood feast, his heart was aching from guilt. He had been too late to save her. Arriving just as Hatred ripped her throat out. He had failed Claire, but could not afford to fail Faith. She was the last one in the Hunter bloodline with the gift.
He had promised Cynthia Hunter ages ago that he would not let the Changelings kill off the family. Taking the request to the High Council of Vampires and asked his people to help him save the Hunters. They had agreed, for he was their Prince, The Prince of Darkness, and they would obey him.
He took flight quietly, so not to disturb the feast in the alleyway below. Knowing in a few more minutes there would be nothing left of Claire Hunter’s body. The Changelings never left evidence of their kills unless for a reason. He had to find Faith though and he needed a head start on the werewolves. He would not Fail Cynthia again.