HUNTED

Prologue

Two months earlier

Blood smeared the smooth cement floor in splotches of all sizes. Yellow hardhats were scattered amongst the stains, cracked and painted in gore. Corpses dotted the ground, extremities twisted and mutilated. Spread unevenly throughout them were men and women, heads tipped up toward a steel industrial landing that wrapped around the perimeter of the open floor plan, lips sliding into coy grins.

Casper McCoy stood above them on the railing that lined the landing, hands clasped around the metal banister. His ruby red eyes scanned the speckled crowd below, their bright eyes reflecting back at him hungrily. A grin like theirs pulled at his lips.

After a few weeks of scrounging, Casper's underlings had come across this warehouse, abandoned when the building was deemed unworthy for any further electrical plant work, left by the District of Colombia to do nothing more than rot and crumble. Several patrol units a day passed through the building, assuring it had not become a home for drug addicted teenagers or the homeless. It had taken less than ten minutes for Casper's followers to take down the units. Humans were so malleable, easily bent and broken.

"Brothers and sisters, welcome." Casper said, voice booming. "I thank you for the work that you put in here today." He held his arms out wide, gesturing to his subjugates that stood below. "Now I need you to do something else for the good of all of us. The girl, Elizabeth Geyer. I need her. I want you to bring her to me. Without the girl, I will not be able to continue and then you will be left alone in this venomous world made for the living."

The vampire huddle below his feet began to chatter hungrily; a low rumble rising until they were nearly shouting over each other. Tongues flicked over lips. They were starving-starving for blood, for death. That is what worried Casper. He feared their hastiness would compromise the mission. He raised his arm and called for silence. The excitement ceased suddenly.

"I need her here, and I need her alive." He lifted a shaking hand. His veins were black beneath his skin, spidering across the backs of his knuckles. He needed her soon, her blood. "Who will be a leader? Who will step forward and take on the task of bringing her to me?"

For a moment, no one moved, no one made a noise. Then a vampire unhitched himself from the shadows. He was young, probably only in his early twenties when he was Turned. He wore a tight muscle shirt and jeans. His hair hung over his forehead slightly. In the light produced by the yellow stripped bulbs hanging from the ceiling, a silvery flash on his neck caught Casper's eye-the scar of a vampire's bite just at the base of his throat where his pulse would have throbbed were he still alive.

"I." He said, stepping forward. His arms were crossed over his chest. "I will step forward, master."

Casper's jaw ticked. He wasn't used to being called master, and while it fueled his ego, it felt strange. "What is your name, valiant one?"

"Malloy. Malloy Donovan." He spoke with an accent, distinctly of an old British providence; Australian. The curve his smile took supported this. It was sly, like the ones of debtors who lived on the isle long ago. Casper found himself wondering how old he was. One century? Two?

"Come with me." Casper jumped back onto the grating, watching with slotted eyes as Malloy came up the steps. His movements were lackadaisical and slow as if he could care less about the heaviness of the task he had taken on.

But he followed obediently behind Casper down a short hallway cloaked in darkness. The heels of their boots were the only noise in the hall. Voices rose after them, growing louder the farther they went as the others began chatting excitedly again.

Casper stopped in front of a rust tinged metal door. He swung it open and gestured for Malloy to enter. He quirked an eyebrow but did as told.

Inside the room was a splintering wood table, two chairs at either of the long sides. Malloy flopped into one, and Casper into the other. He leaned back so that the feeble chair balanced on its two back legs. He braced his hands on the ends of the table and looked Malloy dead in the eyes.

"Malloy Donovan. Do you understand the weight of this task? I need the girl, and I need her fast. You must be cunning, meticulous, and careful. There will be a few bumps in the road of course. The Slayers are very tight knit group when considering a threatened life, especially when said life is as honored as one of a Creator's descendant. Her friends. I need them out of the way. As cleanly as possible. Can you handle this?"

The corners of Malloy's mouth twitched upward. A chuckle rumbled from his throat.

Anger jumped in Casper's chest. The chair snapped forward onto all fours and his fists came down on the table with such force that a crack sprouted from beneath his hand.

"Do you think this is funny, Donovan? This is not a bloody joke!"

Malloy's smile fell. He rubbed one hand over his fist, cracking his knuckle. "Not at all, master. I can handle it, without a problem."

Casper squinted at the other vampire. There was a light in his dead eyes, mischievous to say the least. But there was something else behind that, something darker and more maniacal. Casper suddenly had high hopes for Malloy Donovan.

"Two months." He said, a smile sliding across his face. "That is all I will give you. I need Elizabeth before the end of October. If you have not brought her here by then, you will be in a pile of dust. Am I clear?"

"Crystal."