Page 8 of Court of Evil

He nods reluctantly and heads up to join the rest of the team while I move back down the corridor.

I walk into the hall, following my instincts down a level to where the others were and through the winding corridors. Moonlight shines through the broken windows to my right, theirtattered curtains fluttering in the wind. While most doors along the hallway are open, there is a stack of cardboard, rubbish, and even a wood pallet between two of the doors. Something about it catches my attention.

It’s piled too perfectly. Crouching, I shine my torch into a small crevice. Eyes gleam in the light, and I jerk back, ripping away the front layer to reveal a young, terrified girl hiding there. More vamps cower behind her.

“Please,” she whispers, her hands held high. She’s so fucking young, she can’t be much past the change. The others behind her are just teenagers, and they are all frightened. “We had nowhere else to go. That’s why we are here. We have never hurt a human. Please don’t kill us.”

Dropping my gun, I frown. “I’m not going to kill you. We only hunt those who hurt our kind. Go now.”

“They killed Emmie,” she whispers, pointing down the hallway. “They enjoyed it. That’s why we hid.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“Hunters. They want to kill us.”

She must mean the other teams. I lower my gun. “Well, I don’t. Go home, for fuck’s sake, but remember, if you kill a human, I’m coming after you.” I step back to allow them to pass.

“Thank you, thank you.” She pushes the others past me, eyeing me warily. I watch them leap down the stairs with a shake of my head. What I said is true—we are hunters, but we don’t hunt and kill innocents. The others here killed people, we knew that, but those teenagers didn’t. I can tell.

Her words come back to me, and I hesitate before I lift my gun and move farther down where she was pointing.

There’s a huge suite with an open door at the end, and I hesitantly follow a blood trail on the floor, only to stop in the doorway. My gun drops as I stare at the mess.

There is a kid on the bed—Emmie, I’m guessing. She’s no older than eighteen. Her eyes are wide and terrified, and her mouth is open, her fangs gone. Her dress is ripped down the front with deep slashes across every inch of her chest.

Moving closer despite the bile crawling up my throat, I shine my torch on her clenched fist. I glance at her face as I reach out and uncurl her fingers. Her hand opens, letting me know rigor hasn’t set in yet, but it’s what’s in her grasp that makes me gasp—black torn camouflage with a patch on it.

A hunter’s patch.

They were hiding because they saw a hunter do this.

This body isn’t old.

This wasn’t another team.

This was tonight.

Horror washes through me, alongside denial.

I hope I’m wrong, but I have to know.

Dropping the material, I tug off my glove and hesitate for a moment. I could walk away and pretend I never saw this, but that’s not my style. I need to know. Ihaveto know. My life is hanging in the balance right now, the rope holding me up ready to snap and drop me through the floor.

Touching the body with a shaky, bare hand, I let the truth come to me.

Flashes fill my head of her running and screaming as masked hunters chase her. They laugh as they holster guns and pull out their knives.

“Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

I know that voice—Ara.

“Nah, we aren’t fucking this one. No time, just kill her quickly. You can have your fun next time.”

“Fuck it.”

I feel her skin split as if it were my own. The agony, the terror . . . I see it all.

I feel her die.

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