Night moved in as the rain came down across the city streets, glistening the roads beneath the street lights. Distant rumbling of the thunder cascaded between the buildings and in the ears of all of those around.
     A lone vampire stood under a cafe’s awning, his arms folded across his chest. With the collar of his long, dark coat turned up and his blond hair loosely tied back, he patiently waited for his prey. The vampire’s name was Gabriel.
     Though he was considered an old vampire by most, he wasn’t old or wise enough to be considered an elder. He did, however, held the respect of many elders. And like most old vampires, it was the insubordinate fledglings he hated.
     Several humans walked along the sidewalk, each one cowering under their umbrellas. Some were heading back to their apartments, while others were out for a late night movie.
     Gabriel continued to wait under the saturated awning. His grey eyes scanned further away from the groups of humans. He wasn’t interested in them.
     On the opposite sidewalk, a single werewolf walked, keeping himself well hidden within his human skin. But Gabriel knew better than to be fooled by outward appearances. He, like many older vampire, could see a werewolf in human form and see through their facade. Younger vampires had a hard time even sensing a werewolf’s presence.
     As the werewolf caught sight of the vampire watching him, he stopped in his tracks. For a brief moment, the two locked eyes.
     Gabriel kept his eyes on the stunned werewolf, silently wishing him to run. The stalemate lasted for several long seconds, ending as the werewolf turned from the vampire and headed back the way he came.
     Looking forward to a chase, Gabriel ventured out from the shelter of the awning and followed his fleeing target.
     This one target was similar to others he had hunted. Rogue werewolves, as they were called, chose to live on their own, free from pack rules. Werewolves ceased hunting humans back in the eighteenth century, and a rule was set in place to protect the humans. But some werewolves loved to break the rules.
     Timothy Westcott was the wolf’s name. He was tall and well-built, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. From his movements alone, Gabriel could tell he was a pureblood. And perhaps this would make the hunt even more enjoyable.
     This werewolf, Timothy, had found himself a nasty habit of preying on young human girls who were unfamiliar with the city. He loved to lure them away from the city’s safety and begin his chase. It didn’t take much for him to catch up with his victims. After using them for his own pleasures, he would kill them. Some of the helpless girls had shown signs of missing flesh and muscle, telling Gabriel that he had fed from them, as well.
     For nearly a week, he had tracked the werewolf, learning his habits. This night was the best night to end it. The rain was a blessing to Gabriel. Hunting a werewolf without it proved to be very tricky. Scent was one of the best abilities wolves carried. Second was hearing, followed by eyesight.
     The rain muted most, if not all of the scent around them, concealing Gabriel until he was ready to make his presence known. And that was what he did. He had waited for the werewolf to head down this particular street, just as he had done every night prior. He even counted on being seen. The idea he wanted to give the wolf was a simple one; I will not be seen unless I allow it. It was a common tactic Gabriel used many times in the past. In a way, he silently told his target that he was the one in control.
     And the chase was on. Not a quick pursuit, but rather calm and precise. Neither one wanted to alarm the humans who remained on the sidewalks.
     The werewolf continued to nervously glance over his shoulder, checking to see if the vampire still followed. Each time he did this, his pace quickened, yet he refused to run.
     The chase drew out over a span twenty minutes as the werewolf led his pursuer out of the city and into the sparse woods. Gabriel understood this to be his target’s way of gaining the upper hand. But this young wolf had underestimated this hunter.
     As the chase shifted from the city to the surrounding woods, the rain had turned from a blessing to a pain. The scent was no longer an obstacle, but hearing would be difficult with the heavy rain striking the leaves and ground.
     Gabriel lost sight of his target. He stopped walking and chose to stretch out his mind, searching for the werewolf. It wasn’t a secure move; however, he had no other choice. Though the werewolf would be able to sense the vampire’s mind, it was a fair trade off.
     Nothing. Was his target able to cloak his presence? The technique wasn’t new to him, but it was a rare one. He had to be extra careful with this wolf.
     Gabriel began walking once more. The rain let up some but continued to drown out most the sounds. He had to rely on his other senses.
     A few yards before him, a dark mass lay strung out on the wet ground. He approached cautiously and inspected the objects. It was nothing more than the werewolf’s discarded clothing. This was another bad thing. Fighting a werewolf in his half form proved to be very dangerous, if not deadly to an unprepared vampire.
     Werewolves had three forms: human, wolf, and a combination of both. It was obvious to Gabriel that this wolf chose his most lethal form.
     Retrieving his gun of choice—a Kimber .45—from underneath his coat, he continued walking.
     A rush of breaking limbs and snapping twigs hit Gabriel’s sharp ears. He turned swiftly and saw the wolf charging for him. Aiming the gun, he squeezed the trigger. The bullet left the barrel and sliced through the air, ripping into the wolf’s right leg. It was a perfect shot in Gabriel’s eyes. He could have ended it at that moment, but he wasn’t finished toying with this one.
     The werewolf flinched at the pain, yet continued his attack. With his entire weight behind him, he ran forward and slammed his body into Gabriel, sending the vampire onto the soggy, forest ground. The wolf growled in agony at the silver invading his flesh. But throughout the pain, he did not dare remove his eyes from the vampire.
     Gabriel returned the hateful stare. It wasn’t often that he was easily knocked to the ground. This wolf was beginning to amuse him. He slowly pulled his feet underneath him and crouched before the challenging wolf. In a show of fair play, he tossed the gun to the side, telling his opponent that he wished for a hand to hand fight.
     The wolf charged again just as Gabriel began his own attack. The two collided with crushing strength. When their bodies met, the wolf felt a burning deep within his gut. He looked down to see the vampire’s hand holding a large knife—a knife that was now buried in his stomach. The silver blade burned stronger than the bullet lodged within his leg.
     The vampire coldly whispered to the wolf, “I’m never fully unarmed. You should have known that.” He forced the knife in deeper and twisted it, trying to inflict as much internal damage as possible.
     A loud roar escaped the wolf’s sneering muzzle as he pushed against the vampire.
     Gabriel let go of the knife and stumbled backwards but remained on his feet. In the fraction of a second, he reached for his second gun hidden behind, concealed by his long coat. He fired two shots, one into each knee.
     The wolf collapsed to the ground and growled. “This was no fight! The only way you could win was with your cheap weapons.”
     “You are right,” Gabriel admitted. “This was no fight.” He aimed the gun once more, and fired the remaining rounds into the wolf’s body, intentionally missing his head and major organs. The wolf struggled among the onslaught of new pain, but his strength left him. His growls soon became rasping breaths as he fought to gain a better mental hold on how the events had turned against him. How did this happen? This shouldn’t have happened! But there he lay, at the mercy of a stray vampire.
     “It is your fault,” began Gabriel as he stood over the wolf. “If you had followed the rules of your kind, then I wouldn’t be here.”
     “Wh-who sent you?” he choked out, his body showing a more human appearance. There was no strategy in shifting his form back to his facade. If he hadn’t been wounded so severely, then the idea of escaping in his wolf form may have appealed as his only means of survival. But there was something odd about the vampire standing over him. It wasn’t in his cowardly fighting techniques, it was something else—something hidden just below his surface. For the first time, the werewolf, Timothy, became frightened.
     Gabriel removed the empty magazine and replaced it with a new one.
     “No one sent me,” he replied. “I merely seek out rogues, like yourself, who have disregarded the rules set in place. I am the one sent to cleanse this world of ungrateful souls such as you.” He knelt beside the werewolf and continued speaking. “Now, what I want you to do is tell me… how many humans have you mindlessly killed?”
     The wolf sneered in protest.
     Gabriel seized hold of the knife and violently removed it from his gut. “I can make this go on all night.”
     The werewolf’s form returned fully to his human appearance. He looked to be slightly younger than Gabriel had first assumed. But age had nothing to do with it.
     “Fifty-seven,” the wolf said, his voice showing no remorse, “in this city alone.” He flashed an arrogant smile. “And why are you so interested in how many I’ve killed? They’re your prey, as well. Or is it the threat of competition?” He began to laugh through the pain.
     “Your kind will never be my competition,” said Gabriel as he laid the knife upon the werewolf’s stomach. The silver blade touched his opened wound and began to sting the flesh. “It’s true that humans exist to feed us. But when you abuse their existence, when you go beyond feeding just to satisfy your other desires, this is when you cross the line. It’s a line that both of our kinds have come to recognize and respect. You have broken this rule, and now I have come to rid the world of you selfish vulgarity. I don’t care if you understand this or not. I’m just glad I didn’t shed any blood over you.”
     The werewolf spoke through this clenched teeth. “Are going to kill me or lecture me?”
     “Kill you, of course.” Gabriel grabbed the knife and plunged it back into the werewolf’s gut. The sound of slicing flesh, gushing blood, and the yells of his prey, mixed together with the dying storm. Gabriel thought about disemboweling him, allowing the wolf to die slowly, but he was already becoming tired with this one. Perhaps he shouldn’t have used his guns at all. A hand to hand fight might have been more interesting.
     The werewolf’s yells melted into a barrage of obscenities, all of which were aimed at his killer.
     Gabriel showed no emotion at the vulgar speech pouring from his prey’s lips. He removed the knife once again and held the tip above the wolf’s heart.
     “This could have been avoided,” he said lifelessly.
     “Avoided?” the werewolf choked out. “You sought me out.”
     “Either through me or your former pack, death would’ve found you eventually. At least through me, it will be less embarrassing. I’m not too clear on how your pack deals with rogues, but I imagine it’s very unpleasant. Actually, I believe I am doing you a favor.”
     The werewolf’s eyes widened as his mind was struck with the obvious truth. “You’re him.”
     Gabriel said nothing. He lowered the blade’s tip to rest against the wolf’s skin.
     “You are him… ” he said, more confident in his assumption. “I was wondering if you were a myth. But even for a myth, you’ve failed to impress me.”
     “The feeling is mutual.” Gabriel pushed the blade into the werewolf’s chest, moving through dense muscle and scraping bone. As the silver blade entered the heart, the werewolf sprang upwards in a last desperate attempt to break free. He gathered his remaining strength and swung his clawed hands at the vampire, ripping several large gashes onto his upper arms and chest.
     The quick attack caught Gabriel off guard. He had misjudged this wolf’s willingness to survive, but that didn’t startle him. Many times in the past he had made the same mistake. In this brief moment, he wasn’t upset that he was injured, he was pissed that his coat had been torn. It was his favorite coat.
     With the wolf moving in for a second swing of his claws, Gabriel removed the knife and pressed it to the werewolf’s throat. He pushed the blade away from him, forcing the wolf back to the ground. Gathering a fraction of his own strength, Gabriel continued to pressed the blade down. He then violently sliced the knife to the side, cutting halfway through the wolf’s neck. Blood began to move freely from the deep wound, mixing in with the rain saturating the forest floor.
     Gabriel leaned back to watch the wolf die. The poor creature fought to breath as his mouth gaped open, attempting to draw in more air. The lungs were willing; however, their gateway had been destroyed. It wasn’t blood loss the wolf died from, it was suffocation.
     This werewolf hadn’t been the great challenge Gabriel was looking for. He needed some other distraction to his boredom. He longed for a greater challenge.
     His kill lay beside him, the life gone from body. In this passing moment, the vampire almost felt pity for the wolf. He wondered again if he should have used his guns. He pushed the thought away.
     “You can address me formally,” Gabriel called out, his words aimed at the new presence behind him. “Or continue to watch from the trees, if you wish.”
     A vampire stepped forward and moved around werewolf hunter, keeping a good distance between them. His hair, damp from the rain, was long and dark, and fell past his shoulders. The vampire cautiously kept his blue eyes on the hunter.
     Gabriel looked up to see who had interrupted him. “Zachary,” he scoffed. “I was beginning to wonder if I would ever see you again.”
     Zachary nodded. “Hello, Gabriel.”
     “Cut the welcoming shit and get on with why you came out here,” he replied, his voice quick and aggravated.
     “I think you know why I am here,” Zachary explained, stepping closer. “A force is rallying against my father.” There was a slight English accent in his words, an accent he obviously never tried to shed. Some vampires were like that; refusing to blend in. The hunter, Gabriel, chose to blend in while he was on American soil. Drawing any attention was bad in his mind. It was this chameleon tactic that proved useful in survival.
     Gabriel moved his eyes back to the dead werewolf and finished removing the head. “And you feel obligated to warn him?”
     Zachary detected a lightheartedness in his voice. It sounded more like mocking. He ignored it. “Werewolves and vampires are teaming up to kill him and everyone at the manor.”
     “Then why don’t you warn him yourself?” he asked, his eyes remaining on the wolf.
     Zachary dropped his gaze. “I can’t go back there.”
     “Poor Zy,” Gabriel continued to mock. “So you think that daddy will not welcome you with open arms? And what about the oblivious sister? How do you think she will take the news about a long-lost brother?”
     Zachary kept his eyes off of the hunter. He tried not to think about Evonne, but his mind always traveled back to her. Zachary knew very well that he was nonexistent in her thoughts, something their father tried desperately not to divulge. It was Alex’s secrets that harmed him, and would undoubtedly harm his sister.
     “That is why I want you to go,” he calmly replied. “My father trusts you.”
     Gabriel wanted to laugh. “Oh yes, he and I have a lot in common.” The sarcasm was strong in his voice. He looked back at Zachary, the seriousness returning. “I have been hunting werewolves before there were any groups set out for the same mission.”
     “My father isn’t as exclusive as you, thus his enemies are great.”
     Gabriel looked away. He thought on Zachary’s words and on how this maybe a nice distraction from his nightly routines. Eden had always been an interesting place to visit.
     “I will speak with your father,” he accepted, “but I cannot promise he will heed the warning.”
     Zachary struggled to keep the smile from reaching him. “Thank you.”