Prologue
A Few Months Earlier — Deep in the Woods
The air throbbed with electricity and the intoxicating scent of pine trees warmed by the relentless movement of dancing bodies.
Music roared through every corner of the clearing—a wild fusion of distorted guitars and pounding bass that made the roots of the ancient oaks tremble beneath the earth.
The bonfire crackled fiercely, casting golden light across the forest floor and sending shifting shadows dancing in every direction.
The scents of beer, sweat, and laughter mingled in the night air, splashing onto the trampled earth in glittering droplets and turning the muddy clearing into something that felt both primitive and sacred.
Karl could feel the pounding of his heart keeping time with the music.
He’d been dancing for over two hours, carried away by the crowd’s infectious energy.
His muscles burned.
But it was the kind of burn that came with absolute freedom.
His sweat-soaked T-shirt clung to his body like an old skin he should have shed long ago.
With one swift motion, he snatched the bourbon bottle from the limp grip of a staggering drunk.
The man’s glazed eyes barely focused before he burst into a ridiculous laugh and collapsed headfirst into a nearby bush, drawing another round of laughter from everyone around him.
Liquid fire slid down Karl’s throat like molten lava.
He grunted in satisfaction, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before scanning the crowd for one familiar face.
Emily.
She should still be near the pickup truck, exactly where he’d left her earlier.
But the truck was empty.
Only a wild cat lingered nearby, lazily licking the rim of a tipped-over beer can.
An icy chill ran down Karl’s spine.
His eyes swept across the clearing.
Searching.
Hunting.
Then he found her.
She was sitting beneath the great oak, her legs tucked beneath her, calm and perfectly at ease.
She was talking to a man.
A stranger.
His chestnut hair looked almost black beneath the firelight, curling around a face that seemed strangely serene.
And Emily…
Emily was laughing.
Not one of her polite little laughs.
Not the awkward smile she gave to be nice.
A real laugh.
Open.
Free.
The kind that revealed the dimples she always tried so hard to hide.
Despite himself…
Karl smiled.
He took another long drink.
The bourbon scorched his tongue and made his eyes water.
When he lowered the bottle again…
Emily was gone.
The stranger hadn’t moved.
He remained seated beneath the tree, perfectly still, staring somewhere beyond the branches where a handful of frightened fireflies drifted through the darkness.
Karl walked over.
His sneakers crushed pinecones beneath each step with a series of dry cracks.
“Hey.”
He extended his hand.
“I’m Karl.”
“A friend of Em—”
The stranger slowly turned his head.
Karl’s words died in his throat.
The man’s eyes…
Steel gray.
Far too cold.
They caught the firelight like the eyes of a monster.
Then Karl caught the scent.
Metallic.
It stung his nose, awakening something ancient inside him.
Primitive.
Instinctive.
Fear.
The stranger said nothing.
He simply inhaled.
His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly.
Karl took a step back.
Then another.
Every instinct screamed at him to leave.
Without another word, he turned and hurried back toward the pickup.
Behind the wheel, his fingers drummed nervously against the cracked leather steering wheel.
Highway to Hell still blasted from the speakers, loud and carefree.
Then he saw it.
A fleeting silhouette.
A blur at the edge of the forest.
The man with the chestnut hair.
He moved…
Too fast.
Too smoothly.
Almost as though he were floating above the ground.
Then…
He vanished into the darkness.
Karl’s blood turned to ice.
His hand slid beneath the driver’s seat until it found the familiar grip of his Remington.
The cold steel offered only the smallest measure of comfort.
He climbed out of the truck and disappeared into the woods, every step echoing like a warning.
The air grew heavier.
Thick with damp earth…
Pine resin…
Decay.
The moon, sharp as a blade, filtered through the branches, painting ghostly patterns across the carpet of fallen needles.
Then the smell hit him.
The same scent.
Only stronger.
Much stronger.
So thick it was almost suffocating.
Then he saw them.
Two deer.
Disemboweled.
The ground around them had been arranged like some grotesque altar.
Their entrails spiraled into strange, almost ritualistic patterns.
The blood was still warm.
Thin wisps of steam rose into the cold night air.
Karl clamped a hand over his mouth, barely suppressing the urge to vomit.
A twig snapped behind him.
He spun instantly, raising the shotgun in one smooth motion.
Time stopped.
The man was standing there.
But he wasn’t a man anymore.
His eyes glowed with an inhuman light.
Fresh blood dripped from his mouth.
His fingers had lengthened into gleaming claws.
And that smile…
Far too wide…
Revealed two razor-sharp fangs.
Karl fired.
The muzzle flash lit the forest.
The deafening blast echoed through the trees.
Nothing.
The creature was gone.
He had vanished in the blink of an eye.
Before Karl even had time to scream…
He felt it.
Fangs sinking into his flesh with the precision of white-hot steel.
Pain exploded through his entire body.
Then…
Darkness.
Only the furious pounding of his own heart remained.
Karl bolted upright, gasping for air.
Cold sweat soaked his skin.
His muscles still trembled from the memory.
The old wooden beam he’d been sleeping on groaned beneath his weight, sending a cloud of dust drifting through the abandoned warehouse.
He climbed down barefoot onto the rough concrete floor.
The air reeked of dampness…
Rust…
Stale engine oil.
Thin shafts of sunlight pierced the gaps in the roof, drawing golden lines through the darkness.
Farther inside, suspended between two twisted steel pillars, a hammock swayed gently.
A massive figure slept inside it, breathing slow and steady.
“Four hours until sunset…”
The rough voice spoke without opening its eyes.
“Go back to sleep, kid.”
Karl clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms.
“I remember.”
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“I finally know who did this to me.”
The hammock stopped moving.
One eye opened.
It gleamed in the shadows.
“Who?”
“The brown-haired man…”
Karl growled through gritted teeth.
“The one with the cat’s eyes.”
He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, almost reliving the agony of that night.
“He had a very particular scent,” he muttered.
“I’d recognize it anywhere.”
The other man let out a long, weary sigh.
“Then get ready.”
His voice was calm.
“Tonight…”
“You become a hunter again.”
