Author: conspiringvagabond
http://my.w.tt/UiNb/frg7k2v47y
Summary:
"If I can still breath, I'm fine."
Haiden Quinn Rasmus was raised on the hunter lifestyle. Born to hunt like a bloodhound is born to track. Instinct and skill came naturally.
Home to him was always crappy motel rooms with itchy bedsheets that had been washed too many times, and getting tucked in by his mom or dad at night. It was hitting the road in the old truck when a hunt was finished, and making pit stops for greasy food and milkshakes. It was learning monster lore instead of algebra, and being taught to shoot guns instead of how to throw a baseball. Home meant so much more than the thing, or the place.
Until he was seven and his mother was killed. Following ten years older when Haiden was seventeen and his father also suffered death at fates cruel hand.
And then home was nonexistent.