MADELINE froze in the doorway, Noah behind her, her heart thudding in her chest.
The creature stepped away from the Jeep, the pure inky black of its body suddenly shifting and slipping over its bones in a flurry of movement. Human skin snaked over his body in a matter of seconds; if Madeline had blinked, she would have missed the transformation. Long, wavy black hair cascaded from the head, framing a handsome olive-skinned face, the same face that had stared down at her during the wildfire.
Noah suddenly pushed past her, stepping out into the sunlight before the creature. “Stefan.”
“Noah,” the creature answered.
Both stood still, glaring, the tension so thick that Madeline found herself staring on morbidly, wondering what would happen. It was the first time she’d really seen them together, steadfast hunter and ancient enemy.
“I see you’ve found my little hideaway,” Stefan said. He turned to Madeline then. “And you’ve been going through my things… seeing what images you can get. My intentions, perhaps? My next victim?” He raised one dark eyebrow, his eyes flashing again, momentarily burning her retina. “Did you learn anything… interesting? Have any visions that were particularly stirring?”
He was playing with her. She knew that. Her face wouldn’t behave, either; she tried to remain stoic, to not reveal that she’d seen the images of him writhing, thinking of her. But instead her features started to fall apart; her brow crinkled, her mouth turned down at the corners, her eyes blinked rapidly. The creature held her gaze, eyes running through her, into her.
If Noah noticed this nonverbal exchange, he didn’t let on. Instead he slung his day pack off his shoulder and unzipped it quickly.
Then one moment Stefan was still by the Jeep, and the next he was latched on to Noah, legs locked around Noah’s waist and tremendous, extended claws trying to get at his throat while Noah blocked the blows.
“Noah!” Madeline yelled as he toppled backward, slamming against the side of the cabin. The day pack slumped to the ground, and Madeline ran toward it. She knew what he had been going for: the dagger.
The creature moved swiftly, tearing a bloody gash into Noah’s neck. Then it let go and leapt to the ground, its feet no longer human but clawed and elongated. As Madeline grabbed for the day pack, he swiped it up deftly before she could reach it and flung it violently toward the forest beyond. Its arc in the sky was tremendous, so high she lost track of it in the branches. She kept running and slammed into Stefan, who toppled to the ground next to Noah. She scrambled to her feet, dry pine needles jabbing her hands. Stefan leapt up on muscular legs and faced her.
Noah moaned on the ground, grasping his neck as blood trickled through his fingers. The wound wasn’t bleeding as much as she had expected. A tense silence followed while she waited for the creature’s next move. Maybe if she ran now, she could hunt for the pack, find the dagger, and kill him.
They couldn’t fight him without the weapon. Stefan stood between them, his arms slightly outstretched, ready to leap in either direction. Darting to the side, she took off toward the trees, ready to hear the pounding of his footsteps behind her. She ran, kicking up dry soil in her wake, plumes of dust and pine needles. The ground beneath her blurred, dry mountain air stinging her eyes. Not able to hear over her own labored breathing, she chanced a look back.
He wasn’t following her. Instead, he had turned back to Noah, standing menacingly over his prone body. She had to find the knife.
Madeline ran toward the shadow of the forest, scanning the ground as she went. She entered the treeline, running and scanning quickly. Every dark lump looked like the day pack but turned out to be a shadowed stump or log. Glancing around at the tree limbs, she made sure the pack wasn’t dangling from a branch above her.
She spotted it then, some twenty feet away next to a fallen tree. She snatched it up, then turned back. In the clearing before the cabin, she rummaged through its contents and came up with the knife.
She broke from the treeline, making a straight line for the cabin. But now she didn’t see the creature or Noah. She raced to the door, fell panting against the wall, and searched the area for signs of any movement or struggle. She saw none and heard no sound except her own laborious breathing.
She burst through the door, then, knife gripped tightly in her hand. The kitchen was empty. So were the bedroom the bathroom. She left the cabin, running around its perimeter. The back door lay off its hinges, tilted to one side in the doorframe.
They were gone.
On the wind she heard a long, strangled cry, and her gut sank, churning with fear.