Of Hunters and Shadows

Story: Of Hunters and Shadows
Series: ??? (unnamed, tho this is one of three pre plotted books)
Rating/Warnings: Eventual slash/yaoi/homoerotic content, not likely over a pg-16/R rating for book one I'm afraid, swearing, blood, violence, magic, and my poor grammar. Beware of very original and complicated paranormals and paranormal world, my vampires are very very different then Dracula. First time doing first person, be warned-Oh, and I would kill for a beta.


Part One


The T.V was on, displaying a montage of societies underbelly on its wide 32 inch screen. Splotches of murders, floods, and other such things flickering by as the News channel went through the days events, dragging it all into my living room. I was never fond of such television programs, finding nighttime News depressing, but my housemate was always watching it. He'd obviously left CNN on once more despite me telling him repeatedly not to do so. I would likely have to tell him a few hundred more times before the message got across, but short of canceling my television programming altogether, I had no way of controlling what Fen watched while I was sleeping. If only he could learn to change the channel when he was done.

Ignoring the T.V for the moment, I continued on my search for Fen himself. Usually the young man would check in on me at dusk, to ensure I was awake. He hadn't even so much as hollered downstairs this evening, and while I wasn't worried, I was a bit irked. Not mad enough that I had changed my nightly routine of checking weather reports on my laptop and heading in for a shower.

I live in a fair sized-and priced-town house in Vancouver BC, originally owning just half of the home before purchasing the entire building so Fen could live in it as well. I had my personal rooms-shower included-in the basement, while Fen had free reign of the second floor. The main floor was were the living room and kitchen were. The two upper floors were technically bigger then the basement, which housed a small office/sitting room, my bedroom, and a small bathroom-along with a large closet for the water heater and fuse box, but I didn't mind having the shorter end of the stick so to speak.

I had already checked the second floor for Fen, and since I knew he wasn't in the basement, it left only the kitchen for him to be hiding out in. Which was odd, since he like to spend most nights making use of my rather pricey entertainment center. I couldn't smell anything cooking either, but there were foods that didn't require any actually cooking.

Sure enough, to my relief, a familiar blue mohawk was sticking up from behind the refrigerator door when I stepped into the kitchen. I leaned against the entryway as bottles clinked together loudly in the marble and tile room, illuminated only by the light form the fridge itself and a small light above the stove. Fen might not follow my rules about T.V properly, but he did follow the ones about minimum lighting. After a moment of digging through the appliance, Fen stepped back form the fridge and kicked it shut with the toe of one of his military style boots. As he turned to put his findings on the island counter, he had to turn in my direction and final caught sight of me.

Even in the dim light of the room, I could easily see his eyes widen in surprise.

"Ryder, your awake." Fen said, shifting the jars of food onto the counter top and chewing on his bottom lip in a nervous gesture he'd acquired along with his new lip ring. I'd seen African tribes men with less holes and ink then Fen.

"Yes, I am awake." I said, putting as much shock into the words as there had been in Fen's. "Tell me, Fenigian, what time is it?"

Fen scrunched up his face at the use of his full name, peering down at a watch strapped to his wrist between two thick leather bands. "Eight Thirty Seven, boss." He said after a minute of squinting, and I wondered if the glow in the dark option on his Timex was broken, or if the guy was simply that lazy.

"Good. Now, what time was sunset today?" I said it slowly, grinning as a classic 'oh fuck' expression crossed the blue haired males face. The times I wondered why I kept the guy around, all I had to do was remember Fen's entertainment value and I would know why.

"Shit, sorry boss. The phone distracted me, and by the time I was off it, it was passed dusk and I was thirsty-"

I raised a hand to stop the rambling, smiling when Fen's jaw clicked shut with an audible snap. "It's fine Fen, but we can't be doing this every night. It's one thing if I tell you not to wake me up, but on work nights..." I trailed off, letting the words sink in.

Fen was a good kid, well meaning and polite despite what first glances would say. He'd help an old lady across the street if he saw one in need, even dressed in combat boots and more leather then a tack shop. He was only 21 though, and had only been working as my glorified maid for two years. I expected mistakes and adjustments, just as my last Creda had made for the first four or so years he'd worked for me. Some mistakes were minor, but others couldn't happen though, and making sure I was in and out of bed on time was one of them.

"I'm really sorry Ryder. I forgot your schedule shifted from Tuesdays-Wednesdays to Monday, Wednesday, Saturday. Won't happen again." Fen said, truly looking sorry, and I nodded dismissively.

"See that it doesn't, and I'll forgive you. Now, care to tell me who was on the phone, and exactly what your eating the requires apple juice, salad dressing, and pickles?" I raised an eyebrow at Fen's collection of food, watching as he moved to the cupboards for a plate and glass. I didn't know where anything in my kitchen was, but Fen could find anything in there blindfolded.

"Some internet company doing a survey-would'a hung up on them, but they offered free twenty-five dollar coupons for MP3's if you participate." Fen poured some of the apple juice into his glass, and I sent up a silent 'thank you' to anyone listening that it was for drinking-you never knew what Fenigian Shores would put together as food. "As for the food, nothing goes better with pickles then French Dressing and apple juice."

I shook my head, shower wet strands of my annoying strawberry blond hair falling over my forehead and into my eyes. I needed a hair cut again-my last one had been only three weeks ago, but I could swear my hair was mutated with a mind of its own. "I'll take your word on the pickles. Just promise me you'll have something meaty before I want my breakfast." I requested, eyes slipping to the thick black choker covering Fen's neck, matching the ones on his wrist.

"Sure, sure, try and broaden your diet and I get criticized." Fen sighed dramatically, but his eyes were far from the amused tone he was putting on, focused firmly down on the bottle of dill pickles. Still uncomfortable about feeding then, but more relaxed then he'd once been.

Fen was a Creda. A walking source of blood and energy for beings that call themselves Groudlings-though societies around the world had given them other names such as the Chinese Chiang-shih or the more common name of Vampire. Not that modern myths about Vampires and Groudling's are truly similar, blood lust and nocturnal habits aside. For example, vampires of myth tend to go around slaughtering people at night and leaving behind bloodless corpses. Groudlings are more subtle and prefer 'sipping' from people on occasion and having secure back ups-Creda's. A Creda is also responsible for keeping their masters in contact with the ever changing human world, offer protection in the day time, and play maid while the Groudling is out doing more mysterious things.

My Creda is Fen, my fifth one in my fifty five years of walking the earth. Which is a pretty average batting score when one considers the life expectancy of a working Creda is ten years. The tend to die of premature aging or far less pleasant things. They don't have a bad gimmick though, so don't go thinking of me as a cruel slave driver. Creda's get paid very well, for one thing, they never get sick, they know more things then an average human ever will (okay, maybe not a good example), and they get to be bound to their Galant-the Groudling they work for. This gives them a sort of enhanced human awareness-better senses and a strong empathic connection with the Galant that makes us rather protective of them.

It is a parasitic relationship true, but most could argue it is a mutually beneficial one.

As stated before, Fen is my Creda, and has been for going on three years now. He was born into the life-his parents both Creda before him-but he had not yet adjusted from the theory part to the action part of his lifestyle. I gave him as much slack as I could manage, but there is a rather apropos saying about rods and children.

"The only people interested in your diet are pregnant women, Fen. Don't worry, I will be letting you eat all night. I won't need anything until after work." I eased his conscious-or tried to-turning to leave the kitchen once more. "I'll be in my den until the others arrive. Send them down when the get in." I told Fen, not bothering to wait for a reply before heading back towards the living room and basement stairs. "And change the channel on the bloody TV!"


The sitting room in my basement was more of a British style den then an Americanized living room. It had no TV to distract oneself with, and while there was an old AM/FM radio in a corner, it was meant to be a place to sit quietly and read. Like all rooms in the basement, I had removed all the lights and covered over the few privacy windows in the walls with black tape. My night vision was second to none, and the little light I did require came from an oil lantern set on a self in each room. The single lanterns worked as well for me as a florescent light would for someone else, and I'd piled the remained of the dens bookshelves with stacks of novels to pass time.

Not that I spend all my time in a dark basement alone. I watched TV with Fen on occasion-anything non-violent or gory-and played boardgames and video games from time to time. When I wasn't reading, playing games, or sleeping though, I was working. Three nights a week, every week, from the age of twenty up until my eventual death be it a decade from now or two centuries. No vacation time, not for me. No quitting or running off on the job either, not if I wanted to keep my head attached properly.

Not that I wanted to quit, I'd been born into my job as much as Fen had, and was content to do as raised. Though it was annoying when you were halfway into an important scene in your favorite new book, and you get interrupted by noisy co-workers clomping down your stairs and into your space.

Borin and Darryl are not what someone conjures to mind when they think of vampires, another sign of Hollywood getting it wrong. Both were bulky in build, Borin the taller of the two at just shy of six feet tall, with box like bodies of miners or wrestlers. They were pale skinned at least, with dark hair-Darryl's cut short into an unattractive comb over and Borin sporting a short but still there pony tail. They would far easier pass as hit men or thugs then they would as arduous creatures of the night.

I knew that personally, I looked far more vampiric then they ever would, with my narrow features and tall lanky athletes build, my habit of dressing in all black and dark blues. It wasn't about being vampires though, because we aren't-were Groudlings. More of us look like the lumberjack twins then Dracula or Lestat.

"Hello Mr. Theron, ready to go?" Darryl asked as he and Borin came into view at the base of the stairs. I'd tried to get the older man to call me by my first name, but Darryl had insistently stuck to 'Mr. Theron' since we met four years ago. Borin, who had only just start working with us when our last third member had died, had copied the annoying habit. "Your Creda said you were waiting on us."

I held back a scowl at the way Darryl said the last statement. Not all Groudling used Credas, some saw it as a spoiled sign of laziness, and Darryl was one such person. He'd never sounded so condescending about it before. Maybe he had simply woken up on the wrong side of dawn? (Should I ever be so lucky, I'd turn religious.)

"I'm as ready as I ever will be, and always am." I said, ignoring his moodiness and nodding politely in Borin's direction. The youngest of us, he seemed to know when it was best to stand back and stay quiet. "Shall we?" I added, standing up and placing my novel down on the arm of my plush leather reading chair. I walk slowly towards them, pleased that my six and a half feet plus change let me tower well over Darryl. Sometimes I enjoy being unnaturally tall.