The Hunted

Twenty

The clinic, Red told her as they'd walked past a nondescript red brick building, was where he'd taken her when the infection in her arm had threatened to kill her. It was there that she'd received the medical assistance that saved her life. Blake tried to recall anything from that time but there were no memories. Her mind was blank, a black hole of nothingness where those days of blood poisoning had infested her.

Though she had been content to take in the sight of the town, filing away all of this information for later to pass on to Malachi, she had found herself asking, "How does it work? The shops and the diner and the clinic...What currency do you use? Same as humans or do you have your own system?"

Red smiled down at Blake, his eyes alight as he explained, "We're a community and everyone has an active role. There's no money system since we all have a job and pull our own weight. If we need something that can't be provided in-house or from the land, like most of our food, we buy it on the human markets and bring it in ourselves. It gets stocked in the grocery and everyone still grabs what they need and check out as you would in a human settlement, but that's mostly so we can keep an eye on what needs to be restocked."

"Where do you get the money to buy those things if everyone works here for free?"

"Remember how I told you the other day that we have some pack members who live off-territory? Previous Alphas of the pack centuries ago had money that they invested. Those accounts still exist today and with the interest and investments, they've grown quite a bit. The majority of the North American packs are quite wealthy. Can't say much for the ones in the rest of the world but most of us out here do okay."

Blake huffed a laugh and surveyed the town with disbelief. "I can't believe that you all go unnoticed out here. You've got a town and businesses and a freaking mansion...And no one knows that you're here."

Red offered her a crooked smile and they crossed what Blake supposed would have been a street if they'd been in a real city with cars. As it were, it was just a narrow laneway where people could cross from one set of buildings to the other. "I think you are evidence that some people know we're here."

"Hunters are different," Blake said as she peered into a storefront as they walked past. The lights were off but she could clearly see racks of clothing inside. "I mean regular humans."

Blake paused as she felt a pair of eyes on her and stared at the reflection the glass cast across the street. Across the way, back where Blake and Red had just crossed from, were two werewolves who stared at Blake with what could only be described as pure and utter loathing.

The first Blake recognized easily. If only because it would have been difficult to forget Victor with the cruel scar above his eyes and the glower on his face. The wolf that had ripped her arm to shreds. The one who had killed her parents if Malachi was to be believed.

She hadn't told Red or Henry about her suspicions surrounding Victor. If she had, Blake was certain that they would just do their best to keep her and the wolf far away from each other and that was the complete opposite of what she wanted. Blake wanted him close so that she could find a way to kill him. It would be difficult with no weapons but she'd worked with little before and still come out okay.

The werewolf next to Victor Blake didn't know at all but the way he stared at her was death incarnate. Brown hair, matching eyes, deeply tanned, and tall enough that she'd have to raise her eyes to look at him but perhaps not crane her neck as she'd had to with Red and Henry.

"Who are they?" she asked Red, cutting off the retort he was formulating.

He was less inconspicuous, throwing an unconcerned glance over his shoulder. The wolves stared right back. "Victor and Deacon."