Page 1 of Finn
CHAPTER ONE
FINN
I could feelthe adrenaline coursing through my veins as I crept up the stairs, keeping my gun pressed close to my chest.
The house was shrouded in darkness, and my human eyes could barely make out the steps in front of me.
Shifters might have been born for this, but I was just a hunter who’d learned to make do.
The stairs creaked under my weight, but I kept my steps light. One mistake could cost me everything.
I’d just turned eighteen, and the average hunter didn’t live past their forties.
I wanted those years—hell, I wanted to make it to retirement. And, if I was honest, maybe a quiet life in the country with Gabriel.
But thoughts of him had no place here, and I couldn’t afford the distraction. I shook my head, forcing myself back into focus.
The door to the target’s bedroom loomed just ahead. I took a breath and double-checked my ammo.
Silver rounds, deadly enough for most monsters, and tonight’s target was a shifter. Nothing I hadn’t handled before.
As I moved in, Jake, another trainee and perpetual show-off, stormed past me. My jaw clenched.
Our squad leader had assigned me to the second floor, but Jake had clearly blown through his area and decided he needed to grab the spotlight here, too.
Rather than argue, I held my tongue and let him go first, hoping his recklessness wouldn’t get us both killed.
Jake kicked open the door, not even bothering with stealth, and immediately started firing.
I rushed in, gun raised, but the target, a man named Tom Higgins, was still alive, though barely.
Blood soaked the sheets and the wall behind the bed. Higgins sat, wide-eyed and pale, staring at the carnage.
Jake’s revolver was still trained on him, but Higgins was already moving, scrambling off the bed like a drunken man.
My hand shook, finger poised over the trigger, but I couldn’t pull it. I hated it when they looked like this, like us.
I expected Higgins to try to dart past me, maybe even attack, given his shifter strength.
But instead, he fell to his knees right in front of me. His hands gripped my shirt, and he looked up at me with terrified, pleading eyes.
"Don’t let him kill me," he begged, voice a raspy whisper.
The scent of his fear filled the room, and I hesitated, my palms clammy against the gun.
I’d been taught that supernaturals didn’t have souls. That they were monsters wrapped in human skin.
But Higgins looked so human, his eyes filled with terror like any other man fighting for his life.
My heart pounded in my chest, and I lowered my gun just a fraction.
“What the hell are you waiting for, Peterson?” Jake barked. “End this.”
“I... I can’t,” I whispered.
Higgins’s face twisted, and for a split second, I thought he smiled.
I blinked, and his face seemed different. His teeth seemed sharper, and his eyes glowed a sickly yellow in the dark.
