Hunt reached up and took her hand. He paused as he got a good look at her, seeing her overly perfect features. She had perfectly bulbous breasts and a face that had a beauty that was almost cherubic. All that was needed was a light source behind her head for the halo effect to occur. He recognized the being as a Siren at once.
“Don’t want to hear it,” Hunt replied, throwing her hand off.
“Your loss,” she replied, walking off.
The sound of murmuring behind him drew Hunt’s attention. He looked back to see Conan and his crew walk into the bar. The crowd cleared a path for the Wyvern as he made his way to the stage to make his claim on the Werewolf. Hunt scratched his chin, wondering why a Wyvern would want a Werewolf. He had all the muscle he needed.
Hunt took another look at the Werewolf, and realized just how beautiful the woman was. Her dark hair cascaded down to the ground, shimmering in the low light of the bar. Even while upside-down, her heart-shaped face and high cheekbones gaveway to a beauty that was hard to come by. Her almond-shaped eyes squinted at the lights as she tried to get free from her bonds.
“Damn,” Hunt said to himself.
Hunt didn’t care for paranormals, and yet, he found himself in the bar with so many of them around him. He took his glass and brought it up to his lips, looking to take another sip. When he saw it was empty, he sulked and slid it forward for the bartender to fill him up again.
“You ever think this is going to kill you?” the woman behind the counter asked as she filled the glass.
“At least I’ll be too buzzed to know I’m dead,” Hunt replied as he began drinking.
Three years ago, Hunt had found himself standing on the top of a pile of bodies in South America. Born a Hunter, Hunt had spent every single moment of his life from his birth being trained to be a killer. Both his parents were Hunters, traveling around the world and killing paranormal entities wherever they found them.
By the time he was thirty, he had killed more paranormal entities than any other human on the face of the planet. The death of his parents at the hands of a Dragon pack had driven him off the deep end, resulting in his murder spree three years ago. He had faced off against a pack all on his own, and managed to come out on top.
“No one else makes a bid,” Hunt heard Conan say to the rest of the Wyverns that had walked into the bar with him. “I want her.”
Hunt watched as the smaller men moved across the room, standing next to the men who looked poised to make bids for the Werewolf on display. It was something he had seenmultiple times. Conan, the brash Wyvern along with his group of scallywags, using intimidation to get what they wanted.
Hunt watched as Conan grabbed the Werewolf by her hair, pulling her toward his face, sniffing her. For a moment, Hunt recalled the time he had been captured by a lone Changeling when he was still in training. He had been strung up by the creature and force-fed sludge for three days. It was one of the worst experiences of his life, and Hunt knew that being a slave to someone, especially a brute, was often worse than death.
“That’s your final offer, you irrelevant scum.”
“I’m willing to double it,” came a voice from above them.
Everyone looked up to the roof of the bar to see a woman standing in the rafters, walking elegantly across a beam. She got directly over them, and leaned in, showing a bushy tail hanging behind her. Hunt quickly placed her as a Vixen. A foxlike paranormal entity.
“Sly,” Conan growled.
“Hi, Conan,” the woman said from above him before turning to Caleb. “I’ll take her, for a million. Just say the word and the money is yours.”
Hunt watched as Caleb slowly pulled himself away from Conan and made his way toward Sly, sweating and smiling nervously. “Now, Sly, don’t pull a man’s legs, do you have that kind of money to throw around for a Werewolf?”
Sly raised her hands, shifting her hands into claws, warning Caleb to stay back. “Do I look like I give half a shit? I just want to get you back for fucking with me on the granite deal.”
“Wait, what?” Caleb said, raising his eyebrows in shock.
Before anyone could react, the Vixen sliced through the enchanted ropes which held the Werewolf in place, causing her to drop to the ground. Hunt’s eyes grew wide as the Werewolf quickly got to her feet and launched herself at Conan, catching the Wyvern off guard. She floored him, knocking him to the ground, before she turned around to attack Caleb.
The demon brought up his hands as he began to walk backward slowly. “Now let’s talk about this. You don’t want to do this. How about we talk something out?”
“You’re dead,” the Werewolf growled and dove right at him.
Before she could hit her target, one of Conan’s men struck into her from the side, throwing her off target. She flew over the heads of the crowd, heading right for Hunt. He tried to react but was too slow, and the Werewolf slammed right into him, knocking him off his chair, as they both fell face-to-face.
As she pushed off of him, the world slowed down for a moment. Hunt got a moment to get a closer look at her, and once again he was stunned. She quickly shifted her claws and turned around, ready to face off against the Wyverns who were gathering behind them.
“Bring her to me!” Conan yelled, pointing at her.
Conan’s men quickly rushed through the crowd, heading for her. Just before they could reach her, a portal opened in the middle of the room, slicing through a demon standing right in the center of it. A man walked out of the portal, dressed in a long black jacket that swept the ground in tatters. The room instantly fell silent, and although Hunt had never met the Dragon, he knew exactly who could control that amount of power.
Garret.