Chapter 8

Autumn sat rigidly in the driver's seat, her hands trembling and her face as white as if she'd seen a ghost. Whiter, like a ghost she could be.

He took her hand and said, "Just chill," as he dragged her out of the vehicle.

Her head bobbed as she asked, "You're not going there, right?"

"I'm not, at all."

"I'm content to stay here."

"Okay, I won't come back in a minute to find you've bolted. You're my only link to this guy, to whatever happened over there," he said, indicating the group of police officers. Once again, the killer was successful. Before ever meeting the investigator assigned to the slasher cases, Allan Ford, he already knew. A look of complete and utter frustration crossed the man's face. A turn of the investigator's head brought him face to face with Hunter. The other guy just shook his head, his mouth set in a tight line. That much is certain. The murderer had committed another murder.

She began to ask, "What makes you think whatever happened over there has anything to do with the killer you're after?" before trailing off as a stretcher was brought out from the back with the black bag on top.

"There was a killing. People are killed every day. The chance that this killing is related to others is probably zero. Maybe it was an accident, or a bad drug deal gone wrong. Perhaps—"

"Perhaps, it's best if you come with me," Hunter suggested. "You can either be thrown over my shoulder and carried over, or I can signal one of those police officers and inform him of your note."

Autumn looked down at his fingers, which were tightly gripping her wrist, then back up into his eyes. Hunter had no doubt that they were as cold and emotionless as he had hoped.

"But it's up to you."

Then, she gave in and allowed him to yank her from the car. He took a firm hold of her and led her across the street, pushing through the crowd until they were past the police line. Although a few police officers glanced his way, no one approached him. Some people looked annoyed to see him, while others waved hello, including Allan Ford.

"It's great to have you here, Morrison," Allan said as he approached Hunter. He wiped his hands on a handkerchief that was already stained with blood and said, "A fucking mess in there."

"You've got the appearance of hell itself, Ford."

"Tell me something I don't know," the man said in response. He ran his hand through his hair, reached into his eyes and scratched. "I think I'm going blind from exhaustion. I've only had about three hours of sleep since I arrived in this horrible city." He tilted his head back.

"His most recent kill?" Hunter queried.

Allan shook his head sadly. "The autopsy results indicate that the body is at least a days old, and the autopsist speculates that it may have died around the same time as the people whose bodies were discovered in the alley behind the Midnight Pub, a dive bar down the street."

"Who uncovered this?"

"Come on in and have a look around; some teens broke in here thinking it would be a good place to smoke some crack and get high, but instead they got scared out of their minds."

Hunter advanced, his hands still tightly clasping Autumn's wrist.

As they reached the entrance, she muttered, "I can't," and pulled away from his grip. However, by the time she uttered, "Please, I don't want to go in," it was already too late. Hunter had already grabbed her and was pulling her inside the dark, deserted building. They finally stopped at the perimeter of the yellow-taped off area. When it came time to load the mutilated body, the autopsist and two assistants stood just inside the taped area and quickly collapsed the stretcher.

She exhaled a sigh of relief as Autumn's breath rushed out of her. The smell of death swept over her like a strong wind, and her hand instinctively went to her mouth. She tried to look away, but found herself captivated. Meat and bone were all that remained of the body, rendering it unrecognizable. Although the sight made her queasy, the lingering scent and allure of the dried blood stains aroused a long-suppressed desire.

Hunter, who normally keeps his distance, stares at her, his normally guarded eyes filled with worry—suspicion? In other words, she was clueless. She wanted to leave so badly. She was helpless to do anything but stare and wait as her stomach began to cramp and her throat constricted.

"Autumn?" He grabbed her upper arms and yanked her eyes away from the dead body. Took her by the arm and yanked her away from everyone so she wouldn't be overheard. He shook her twice and said, "You're aware who fucking did this, right? You were telling the truth before, as you must be aware."

She nodded, watching the anger spread across his features.

"I'm done with games. Tell me who did this right this second!"

She gulped for air, desperate to escape the blood-tainted atmosphere that had strange and repulsive effects on her. Blood was all she could smell, and she knew that meant someone had died. She started cramping so badly that if Hunter hadn't held her up, she definitely would have collapsed.

"Are you not feeling?" his tone shifted from angry to concerned.

She made a frantic head shake. "I feel just a little queasy." She felt as though he had peered into her very being with the intensity with which he studied her. "I'm going to take you out from her. After that, we'll have a conversation."

Her throat was tightening. "No-nope. We have to do our deal, tonight."

He went to sweep her into his arms and said, "There is no more deal. I will get you some fresh air and then you will tell me everything to me."

"No, please... We should do our deal," but when she turned, he had grabbed her again. Her only option was to place her hand on top of his. The woman's grip became increasingly firm.

Hunter screamed, "Fuck!" with a look of utter shock.

She let him go when she heard the first crack of bones like sparklers in her ears. Her feeling of outrage was immediate. Since that one time, she'd never hurt anyone again. No longer, after witnessing the havoc she could wreak.

She spun around and started walking toward the door, gaining speed as she went. It seemed like in an instant she was outside, on the other side of the street, with the scars from the hands that had reached for her still fresh. She had hurried down the street, her eyes darting from side to side as her leather purse was clutched tightly in her ghostly white hands. She was almost blinded by the glare from the lit storefronts above her. She fell and looked back over her shoulder while clutching the top of a fire hydrant. Nobody else seemed interested in following her. She had gone too quickly.

Aware of the trembling in her hands, she focused her attention there. Muscle cramps gradually worked their way up from her abdomen, chest, and thighs, causing excruciating pain and rendering her immobile. But she had to leave. Before anything bad had ever happened to her, before Hunter had ever gone after her.

If she didn't get away, he'd end up like she was. A shadowy passageway beckoned to her. As her eyes adjusted, she became aware of the litter on the road, the shattered bottles, and the spray-painted walls. Her sense of hearing improved to the point where she could pick up the tiniest sounds, such as the scurrying of rats as they ate dinner. The stench of spoiled milk and rotten eggs made her nose itch. The walker soon turned into a runner.

When confronted by the darkness, Autumn threw herself against the side of a building and vanished. As she cinched her waist, her purse fell to the floor. First her vision was hazy with green, then red, and finally the two colors blended together, giving her the impression that she was looking through a microscope. A form of heat formed. There was a whirlwind of hues in the air. Her vision sharpened to the point that it made her eyes watered.

A tiny black cat was rummaging around in a garbage when she heard a faint whimper, which caused her to quickly cast a sidelong glance in its direction. She began violently shaking as the sound of its heartbeat reverberated in her ears. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but reach out and touch it after catching a whiff of the warm blood pumping through its veins. She snatched it up into her shaking arms as the whimpers turned into sharp meows. In the same way that Autumn could sense the cat's presence, the cat could also sense the danger it posed. Her hands clenched, the intoxicating warmth of its tiny body propelling her.

Noooooo! She screamed softly and pushed the cat away. A brief sigh of relief escaped Autumn as it scuttled off toward the end of the alley. The muscles in her feet suddenly spasmed, and the pain seized her like a pair of giant fingers grasping at her life. Suddenly, all rational thought evaporated. She jerked her head back and slammed her arms down on the stone wall. Her digits tensed and flexed...

With a gnashing of teeth, she slid to the floor as the sound of her nails scraping against the brick made her jump back. Her throat muscles tensed and her voice weakened. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a low crackle of thunder, a sound as ancient as the cursed blood that coursed through her veins. As if the ground gave way beneath her, Autumn vanished into nothingness, accompanied only by the tortured growl that had followed her throughout her life. Until, only the hunger for blood and the rush of killing were on her mind.