The Night Haunters

Family Is A Very Serious Matter

Danny's team had no shortage of questions when she came for her briefing in full gear. She had to ignore them for the most part and top off her bike's tank. Cassie, once she realized that Danny wanted her space, shooed away the two boys right in the middle of their fiftieth repetition of "What's wrong?". Danny gave Cassie a grateful glance and busied herself with her bike. Millions of thoughts went through her head about what had happened in the past few hours alone. She felt stupid for not realizing Savage's past, letting herself be weak enough to be put under that spell, and every other mistake she made. She was still reeling from the utter bliss of Savage's blood, as if it were some sort of drug. Danny took a deep breath and stood up from her bike.

"You sure you're good to go?" Danny heard the concerned voice of Rod behind her.

Danny stopped and looked over her shoulder, "Sneaking up on women isn't very flattering, Rod."

Rod casually shrugged and kicked a tire gently, "Sorry to disappoint. But, really, are you sure you can handle another mission?"

Danny sighed, putting every once of sarcasm she could in her words, "Yes, Mom."

"Well then," Rod was grinning, "I guess there's no point in asking to trade spots for the mission, huh?"

"Sorry, I'm taking point for this one," Danny said, "You can tell Rafael I'll be ready as soon as a grab my sharpening stone."

"Fine. You got it, Shadow," Rod sighed and went to his truck where Rafael was hanging around with Cassie.

Danny slowly made her way to her hammock. Through the Pit, then up a hidden flight of stairs, then finally up a ladder to the catwalk five stories up. Her sharpening stone was next to all of her neatly placed backup blades and sheaths. It was in a wooden case that flipped open on one side. Danny took each one of her blades out and checked them for problems. She still had a good number of them, their sheaths in places so that they acted like armor. Danny wrapped her black cloth around her face like always and flicked on her hood. She jumped over the edge of the catwalk and down to the ground.

Thankfully, Danny had made that her usual entrance that the Haunters lounging around the Pit only glanced to acknowledge her presence. There were a couple of new bloods that gawked at her, whispering to themselves about "why they had gotten themselves into". Danny started towards the Hanger again, to her bike. She wondered if she was ready, if just for a second. Her dizziness had passed, her strength back up to where it was before the incident. She still hadn't obtained her inner ripper's strength yet, since she had been too exhausted from the flaming chains that had left their mark on her arms.

Danny subconsciously touched her new scars on her left upper arm. They would fade quicker then if she were human, but they would remain for a good while. They felt tight, and they itched slightly. Danny's jacket lining was soft enough to negate the itches though. She still felt conscious of them, however, even though they were covered by her leather gear jacket sleeve. Danny wondered if they would be they type of scars that wouldn't fade away completely, that she'd be left with ghostly pale imperfections to remind her of what happened for all of eternity. Danny shook her head solemnly.

"Ready?" Cassie called from her sedan as Danny passed her on the way to her bike.

"'Course," Danny called back, putting up a facade to mask her thoughts.

"Good," Cassie smiled, "'Cause we'll need the sister of the two greatest Haunters at her best if we're gonna face a warehouse full of stake carrying Hunters. Right?"

"I guess," Danny shrugged.

"I heard the muscle they have guarding the place is top notch, could be werewolves..." Cassie said, pretending to be scared only to giggle a second later.

Danny chuckled, "Let's hope you don't jinx it."

"Right," Cassie smiled, "See you there then!"

"You too," Danny replied then stopped before her bike.

Her helmet and riding gloves were sitting on top of the seat just how she always left them. Cassie must've laid them out while she was busy dealing with the witch's spell. Danny pulled down her hood and lowered her cloth mask so the folds of it hung like a scarf around her neck. She slipped on her half fingered riding gloves and her visor-ed helmet, then mounted her bike. She was revving the engine and practically flying through the hidden exit before she knew it.

She was heading for an abandoned warehouse on the other side of L.A. along the coast. The mission was to listen in on the meeting to see if they could find any useful information, then crash the party. And by "crash the party", it meant slaughtering all those Hunters before they could kill any more of her kind. Danny knew it was going to be an easy mission, but there were annoying tools that the humans undoubtedly would have with them: vervain and stakes of various types. Apparently, they had wooden bullets now, when before they would only use traditional wooden stakes, which made the mission slightly more hazardous.

Danny got on the highway and was twenty over the speed limit as soon as she was able. It was like her bike was begging her to go fast, and why wouldn't she oblige when she could "convince" any police that she was going the speed limit and their eyes were just messing with them? Danny weaved through the traffic with ease, her sharp reflexes making the world go by in slow motion. Some honked at her, others flipped her off, but most didn't even notice her because of the fact that she and her bike were completely black in the moonless night.

"How far are you Shadow?" Rafael's voice came through the headset in Danny's helmet.

"Five," Danny replied quickly.

"Good, we'll be there around the same time as you." Came his reply.

Danny continued on and, five minutes on the dot, she arrived at the run down warehouse. It was about a story shorter then the Haunter's base, and a good hundred feet shorter in width, but that still made it a large building. There were men patrolling the rooftop, and the balconies two stories up on the outsides of the building. They were obviously misinformed, since they carried only side arms with hollow-points. The Hunters must have connections to convince gangsters to guard a building at this hour, Danny figured. Which made Danny wonder why they would purposely meet at night of all times, when the Haunters came out to patrol the city practically in droves. Danny herself had lead a few of those night patrols, and they were efficient. The West Branch, totally unlike the East Branch from which Danny came, had no shortage of manpower. With new bloods coming in constantly, and a deal being made with all nearby hospitals for blood bags, the patrols always had enough personnel to go around. So why have a meeting when those Hunters had to know that? The thought made Danny wonder for a second if they were just that stupid or if they had a plan.

"Why, hello there, Shadow!" Rod whispered to Danny through the truck as it pulled up beside her with lights off, "You're looking as deadly as ever."

"And you are just as hopeless as thirty minutes ago, Rod," Danny said, rolling her eyes behind her helmets dark-tinted visor.

"Ouch," Rod faked a pained expression.

"Now that that's out of the way," Rafael interrupted, sounding irritated, "Let's get moving."

"Right." Danny nodded, taking off her helmet. She left of her riding gloves because it was breezy and they at least kept some of her limbs warm inside the thick but flexible fabric. She pulled up her cloth mask and hood quickly, cloaking her face in shadow. The other three followed her lead and put up their hoods as well, only their jaws and mouths weren't cloaked in darkness. They bore the traditional smug smirk the all West Branch Haunters wore, a look to show their anticipation for action. For death.

"Let's move, Shadow," Rafael said, moving towards the warehouse. Danny fell in behind him. She heard Cassie and Rod ran off to take out the guards along the balcony.

Rafael and Danny slipped effortlessly into the shadows, silently weaving their way further into to warehouse to the central room. Danny could easily hear them now, as they smoothly climbed up into the rafters of the warehouse.

"How are we going to do that?" A man said skeptically.

"Simple, someone will be sacrificed and infiltrate the Warehouse," A calm response came, "We've gone over this."

"That's suicide! Literally!" The man retorted.

The eight other Hunters chuckled. Another spoke, "Who will have to be Turned?"

"One of us, of the Inner Circle," said the calm one, the leader of these Hunters.

"How about Cassandra?" One called, smirking.

"Hey! I'm not the damsel in distress here! My kill counts twice as big as yours, and you know it!" A woman with strawberry blonde hair thumped the man on the head.

"Settle down. All of you." Said their leader, "It is not up for discussion, anyway. The martyr will be William."

A tough looking man glanced to the leader, but remained silent. He seemed like the type to simply take orders and execute them without hesitation. The other seven mumbled their agreement and relief.

"This was decided as the last act by our former commander, Johnathan Johnson, before he retired to New York."

Danny froze, her grip on the steel beam rafter tightening enough to leave a mark easily. That was her old dad's name. The same man she had once called father was a member of this Inner Circle? He had told her that before she was born that he and her mother had lived in LA, and had been in charge of a very important organization. Danny gritted her teeth and lightly scoffed at how "cleverly" he had arranged that sentence. Now all those "Family reunions" and "business trips" to L.A. her old father had gone to, every two or three months.

But a familiar, painfully familiar, voice broke through her thoughts and made her stone cold heart shatter.

"Retirement? When did I say that?" Said the nonchalant and deep voice of Danny's father as he walked in through the front door with a hard and commanding gaze.

"Ah, you made it Commander!" The "leader" smiled, "Good, then there's no way that this mission can fail!"

The rest of them nodded their approval. Danny was glad vampires didn't have to really breathe to exist, because she couldn't from the shock and confusion she was feeling at the sight of her father. Rafael kept glancing at her with a concerned frown from under his hood. Danny let out a silent breath and tried to keep her feelings out of her work.

"Well? What time have you all decided on for this mission?" Danny's father asked.

"Within the month, sir," said one man. There was two weeks left in this current month, Danny realized.

"Good, good," Her father replied then asked, "Any interesting intel of them?"

"Yes," the man who had nominated the girl, Cassandra, reported, "We've received reports from our contacts that there is an exceptional recruit among them as of the late six months. We haven't been able to ID her, since she wears that same mask as the other one. We figured they must be related. She associates with the other masked one and their leader quite often, actually. Her skill is on par with the records we have on the other masked one, and it looks like she'll be just like him in no time. Which makes it even harder then dealing with the original two..."

Then man continued his report. From Danny's knowledge, only about half of the information he related as valid, and only half of that seemed to deal with what a new "recruit" would need to know to infiltrate the Warehouse. But they knew the location of her home, of her family. Danny was angered by that simple fact, but infuriated that they would trample on something she had held to dear to her heart, even though she only now knew how how much it meant to her. She growled in a deep and low pitch, only Rafael could hear her. And he shivered at the dense hatred that resonated with it. And Rafael was a seasoned Haunter that Turned during the Civil War, and had to have seen or heard a multitude of traumatizing things. So with that, on top of his rigorous training as a Night Haunter, Danny's growl must've been immensely fierce and intimidating to make him shiver like he did.

"...and that's just about all of it, sir." The man reporting said, then sympathetically added, "And, on behalf of all of us, I am sorry as for the loss of your daughter, sir. We understand why you didn't attend the most recent meetings in person."

"Thank you all," Danny's father nodded, "I know she would have made a fine Hunter when she was ready."

Danny blinked. She would've been on their side if Nick hadn't Turned her? Maybe her dead brother would've been too? Danny couldn't believe what she was thinking. This was supposed to be an easy task, an amusement in light of her and her team's skills. Now she had to find this out, and right after her ordeal with that witch, no less. Danny sighed and shrugged off her emotions like it was second nature. Now, she knew her eyes were their red shade, a vibrant and frightening red that looked all the more noticeable because of the dark clothing she wore. She was immune to the weaknesses if her emotion without turning them off like other vampires did. A perk of the "Curse".

"Shall we discuss our next item?" her father asked the other Hunters. "How is that coming along?"

"Already in motion, sir," The men who Danny thought was the leader said, but then he looked around the building as if to confirm it. "They should be here by now."

"Good. Just remember, all of them alive and in front of me so I can ask the questions." Her father nodded.

"Of course, sir," The man responded.

Then they started to leave the area. The meeting seemed to be over. Danny looked to Rafael. He looked back and nodded. Danny released her grip on the beam, the place where she bent the metal very pronounced. Rafael did the same as she and dropped. Rafael didn't carry a single weapon, and only used his fists and fangs to fight. Danny was now the total opposite. She was like Savage by comparison, but since she was smaller then he was she could carry as much as he did. The fact remained that Danny still had enough blades for an entire division, it seemed, on her person. So Danny drew out her thigh knife, the heavy, jet black, and razor-sharp blade that she received all those months ago for her first mission, and held it in reverse grip in her right hand.

They fell in slow motion it seemed, and only two saw their decent, but it was enough. Those two screamed as Rafael landed and stood tall, while Danny remained crouched much like a classic ninja pose. The Hunters looked smug, which was strange. Usually at the sight of assassins that had their faces cloaked in shadow, the reaction was usually more of fear. But why be scared when every thing was going as planned? Danny steeled herself for the trap that they had just sprung.

Her father looked directly at her with a sneer of disgust, "So we are graced with the presence of Savage's new pet? Excellent. Simply Excellent."

Rafael groaned and cracked his knuckles in anticipation, his fangs were bared, "If you know Savage, then you'll know that that mask she's wearing means she won't say a word to you."

"That run in the family?" Her father aimed the comment at Danny.

Danny could swear she heard her inner ripper collapse from laughter, while Danny smirked at the irony of the comment from behind her mask and hood. Danny slowly stood, and quietly sheathed her blade. She wouldn't need such a heavy blade she realized, but it was still her first choice for weaponry. She reached into the folds of her gear jacket and took out three throwing knives, and put two in her left palm while holding the third by the blade in her right hand. She heightened her senses, preparing for their first strike.

"And I see she has also followed him in using far too many weapons as well," Her father noted, turning away from them to one of his men, "How much longer?

"They're here," the man smirked.

Then Danny blinked as she realized at what she was hearing. What sounded like a decent sized army, maybe fifty men and women, were storming through the doors of the warehouse and fanning out to cover the entire area. Every one looked trained in killing and fighting, just by the look in their eyes. Some had deep scars on their faces and exposed skin, battle scars. Danny even noticed that even fewer had scars that looked like fang marks. They all had stakes and vervain tranq guns at their sides or in their hands. And all of them were looking right at Rafael and Danny with unadulterated hatred.

"Sad how easy it was," Her father turned back to them. "To trap you that is. I'm not going to explain how exactly we did it, since that would be too much of a cliché. But I think you'll get how if you think about it."

Both of them rolled their eyes under their hoods, but said nothing. So to the Hunters before them, they say no reaction whatsoever. And that seemed to get on some peoples nerves, since Danny heard some of them groan in annoyance, whispering their distaste for their prey's apathy.

The next minute or two was a blur in Danny's memory. It was in snap shots. Her throwing a knife into a Hunter's skull. Rafael ripping another's heart out. Danny drawing a machete and hacking away at stakes and wooden projectiles, cutting them out of the air. Danny slitting another's throat and tossing the body into a charging enemy. Then the third minute was the opposite. Snapshots of the tranq dart that was lucky enough to hit her right in the vein. Of Rafael trying to help her only to get hit with another dart in the back. Of her vision getting fuzzy as her old father stood smugly over her as she slipped into unconsciousness. And the last memory she had of that night that was clear in her mind was her dad's words before she went under.

"Call the werewolves in now," her father had commanded, "It's time that they reveal themselves."


Danny woke next to a very pissed off Rafael, both of them tied up with vervain soaked rope. Their hoods were still up and Danny's mask was still on too. Rod sat in the same state as they did, next to Rafael; Cassie also was the same way and sat next to Danny. There were about nine guards, one of them being Danny's old father, but their were about five men that looked...different. They smelled different too, strangely more like dog in between human scent.

Werewolves. That's what they had to be. But Savage and Nathaniel had told her that werewolves were extinct, killed off and not a new sighting since. Now it seemed they were called out of hiding, but for what? The werewolves looked with even more hatred towards the Haunters then even the Hunters, which was surprising.

"Ah your awake, finally," Said her father as Danny lifted her head, "Then let us begin."

Then the martyr they had chosen to infiltrate the Warehouse, William, stepped foreword. He looked anxious. Her father took a knife from his pocket and went straight to Danny. He eyed her with hatred, and what looked like vengeance. He gripped her wrist and exposed her vein. Then he slit her flesh and blood poured out of her arm. William took a cup and filled it with her blood just as the cut healed in half the time it would have taken a normal vampire. He, before he could change his mind it looked like, drank her blood.

"Your sacrifice will be honored, my son," her father said reassuringly, "First with a swift death."

"Thank you, sir," William muttered.

"And now to get some information out you all," her father said, pulling out a squirt gun full of vervain. "This is going to be fun."


Nathaniel stopped in his tracks. Something felt off to him. Something so wrong that he asked Savage to check on how Shadow's mission was going. Savage gave him a look that over the centuries was his way of non-verbally saying "You're sure?" Nathaniel had only nodded.

"I have a bad feeling about her, okay?" Was all he would say to explain himself.

Savage got on the radio that all team leaders currently on mission were expects to be on and asked for an update on their mission, in code of course. But the response was and was not expected.

"So that's what the voice of Savage sounds like," said a deep and smug voice.

"And this is?" Savage said adding a menacing tone.

"All in due time, Haunter," The voice said

"If you know my name, fool, then you know it's not a good idea to mess around with me," Savage growled.

Nathaniel snatched the phone from Savage, and spoke in his usual care free but intimidating voice, "Where is Shadow?"

"To be graced by the sound of Savage but Nathaniel as well?" The smug voice sounded with faked awe, "Unheard of."

"The next time you hear my voice," Nathaniel kept his tone the same, though his anger exploded inside him and raged like an inferno, "It'll be with your friends' dead bodies laying at your sides."

Nathaniel got of that channel and went to the Pit. It was just now dusk of the day after Shadow had left with her team to that warehouse on the other side of L.A. That meant they had to have been caught last night. Nathaniel was fuming like never before. Now they were attacking the newest member of his family, and no one messed with Nathaniel's family. No one had lived long enough to tell about it.

Back before he was even a vampire, some five centuries ago, Nathaniel had always been protective of his family. He had lived in Italy during the Renaissance, on the streets of Rome among the poor and the beggars. He had to do many things and go to many lengths to protect his own, which made him the man he was. When he Turned, that only intensified. For two years, Nathaniel had done every method possible to get stronger, so he could protect those he cared about. Though most were either mortal and died of old age, or killed and Nathaniel had already avenged. Then Savage and he had meet.

Then known by his name of Ezekiel, Nathaniel had shared a bond with him when he found him on the very street of Rome he had lived in as a teen. As fate would have it, Savage had taken a blood oath to Nathaniel, therefore putting vampire blood in his system, and was killed by pistol-shot in a bar fight while Nathaniel had been off to see how an old friend was in the other side of the city. When Nathaniel came back, Savage had so ferociously torn out a man's throat, Nathaniel had given him his nickname. From then on, they had traveled together and were more like brothers then anything else.

Nathaniel snapped out of his flashback and called the attention of the Haunters in the warehouse, "Everyone listen up! I want the entire city searched for Shadow's kill team! They went dark last night and we just got the ransom note. And who can tell me what happens when anyone threatens us?"

"They die!" Five or so Haunters called, raising their fists.

"Right, so get to the Hanger and grab the radios. Gear up! It's war time!"

The Haunters all at once saluted with their right fists over their hearts and vanished with their vampire speed to get their Gear and start the search. Nathaniel breathed raggedly, infuriated by the situation he was in.

"Remind you of another time?" Savage said behind him in a knowing tone.

"Yeah, you could say that," Nathaniel shook his head, "Of course, you died because of it."

Nathaniel heard Savage shrug, "And look how that turned out. You finally had a person that could stand you for more than a century and still be the same as you meet him. Right?"

"Whatever," Nathaniel waved dismissively. He went to his personal room that was just as hidden from view as Shadow's hammock was, but it was behind a hidden door in the office he used to torture any rogues for info, or to Turn people and torture them more painfully and slowly with vervain for crossing him, like he did to Jose six months ago. He reached into his personal armory and lifted out his war hammer. It was a hammer he had forged himself from when he had begged a blacksmith to make him an apprentice when he was still human during the Renaissance. It had a long handle and the actual hammer was made of the heaviest of metals, forged in the shape of a rectangular prism twice as long as it was wide, with a spike at each corner of the square face pointing outward. Nathaniel only used this when her wanted to absolutely obliterate his enemies.

Savage had a similarity weapon, a katana Nathaniel had gifted him the day Savage had Turned. It was perfectly kept, like Nathaniel with his war hammer. It had a black grip wrapped in the traditional way they were woven, with blood red inlays where the black grip did not cover. It had an equally black scabbard, with the word "Wrath" carved into the wood and stained the same blood red. Also, on the other side of the scabbard was the word "Reaper" made in the same way. These two weapons where Nathaniel and Savage's most precious weapons, which made their use in combat strictly for enemies they wished to perish in the most undesirable way.

Savage looked at Nathaniel, strapping his katana to his back with the hilt jutting out at his right hip, "They pushed the wrong buttons tonight."

Nathaniel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, there was a look in them that would have paralyzed anyone, no matter who they thought they were, with fear. It was the look of pure rage and vengeance personified. This was the second time even Savage had seen this look. The first being five hundred years ago as he lay dying from a poison dart. He had been mad then. that someone would dare kill his brother.

Now that look was back, and, though he tried to hide it, he shivered at the thought of what Nathaniel would do to his victims. But he would never admit to it, of course. He was the emotionless and silent type after all.

Nathaniel looked at Savage, "Brother, that was the biggest understatement I've heard in this century."

Savage smirked and headed for his bike, as did Nathaniel. The Hanger was about half empty, all the primary transports and cars being used right then. There were two Haunters working the radios, ready to tell Nathaniel when they found his sister. There was a skeleton crew of Haunters that had guard duty that night and were staying behind. The other half of the vehicles were reserve, in case one got broken down and they needed another quick. Nathaniel and Savage used to just use the basic vehicles to get to their missions, but when they saw how easily Shadow moved through traffic one a mission she had came along on in her spare time, they had gotten the same black Yamaha sport bikes.

As Savage sat down on his bike, removing his hood and mask to put on his helmet, he turned to Nathaniel, "You plan on taking any hostages for interrogation?"

"The leader and one other, the rest are mine. Got it?" Nathaniel took off his hood, slipped on his helmet, and revved his engine. He had attached a heavy chain strap that he had slung over his shoulder so that the hammer head was looming over his left shoulder. None of the two hundred or so pounds affected him.

"Fine," Savage said, the he switched on the radio in his helmet and broadcasted to the Haunters, "Listen up, Haunters. As of now, we are enacting Warpath Protocol. For you new bloods that means NO ONE engages these meat sacks but Nathaniel and I. How copy?"

There were a number of responses, with emotions spanning from anxious, to sadness at the thought of no killings for them. But they all confirmed Savage's announcement.

Nathaniel smiled under his helmet, he smiled in a way that would have made even the most brave and strong willed man become unsettled and disturbed. It was a smile that oozed killer intent, one that was nothing but fury.

Then Nathaniel and Savage sped out of the Hanger on their bikes, slipping onto the highway and in and out of traffic. Both of them were silent, not saying a word as they waited for someone to find their sister. People honked at them if they saw them, but others didn't even notice until they heard their engines as they zoomed past them at seventy to eighty miles per hour. Nathaniel was already thinking about what he was going to do to the dead man that had taken away his sister. He could Turn him. If he was the leader of a Hunter group, then that would be the most offensive Thing he could do to him. Then, he would torture him for what he's done.

Fifteen minutes later, Nathaniel's radio crackled to life, "Commander, we found her."

"Where?" Was all Nathaniel said.

"A chewed up apartment complex about an hour north east of Shadow's mission sight. What're your orders?" Said the Haunter radio operator.

"Whoever found her needs to hold them in that building until support arrives. Everyone else is that support."

"Yes, Commander," Said the operator.

Savage, who was in front of Nathaniel as they slipped through between two cars looked over his shoulder and nodded twice. Nathaniel immediately floored the accelerator, blazing right by Savage. Savage was right behind him. They were pushing one hundred and twenty miles per hour as they surged towards their sister, dodging cars and trucks by mere inches with their super human reflexes. They shook the Five-O at least three times before they made it to the apartment complex. And what was around it was a sight to behold.

Every available Haunter, each capable of killing twenty men or more in battle, stood guard in every nook and cranny. On the roof tops, they stood watch, the moonlight bouncing of their hoods and blades. On the ground they prowled, hoping for an excuse to fight. In the windows of the building across the street, were Haunters with silenced sniper rifles as an absolute last ditch safety net. Some where waiting in their vehicles, listening for orders from the radio. Everywhere Nathaniel looked he saw one of his Haunters. There was no escape. No survival.

"What do you want me to do?" Savage asked as they pulled in from of the apartment.

The Haunters that had been crawling all around there dissipated, slipping seamlessly into the shadows so that only Savage and Nathaniel were visible from the building. Savage flipped on his hood and mask the instant his helmet was off, keeping his features hidden. Nathaniel, however didn't care about the hood anymore. He still had the vengeful look in his eyes, and was seething with such anger that he ripped the chain that held his hammer to his back apart without any effort. Nathaniel walked up to the door and was about to knock, but stopped.

He listened for where they were in the building, following the sounds until he stood with a brick wall between him and his sister. He heard their leader bark orders to aim at the doors with their stakes in case the traps failed. Nathaniel grinned menacingly, his fangs extending in anticipation of what was to come.

Then he lifted his hand to the wall at chest height, and used his thumb to pull back his middle finger, as if he was about to flick away a pesky mosquito. Then he flicked the wall before him and it crumbled as if it were shattered glass. The shock wave of that single flick could be felt all the way across the street.

When the dust cleared all Nathaniel could see was his sister with her hood and mask still up, looking his way, and a man that looked at him with the most disgusted look possible. But there was fear in his eyes. The primal instinct of the prey when it is faced with it's predator. And the certainty of his own demise.


Danny blinked under her hood. She was thankful that her own father hadn't taken her mask or hood off, since she would hate for her new found brother to see her at all surprised at what she was seeing.

There he stood, having demolished a brick wall with the flick of a single finger, with a giant spiked hammer that looked like it came from a museum. His expression was different. Instead of his usual mad-man-like grin and easy going nature, he was grinning evilly at her father. Grinning so wide that his teeth showed, and so did his sharp fangs. Grinning so demonically as to allude to the horrors that awaited whomever his ire was aimed at.

But his gaze was the most frightening. The thing that, though her father was disguising it with his look of disgust, had replaced every single emotion the man had and turned it into absolute dread. He was tense, tightening his jaw to keep his composure. And he was failing. His eyes betrayed what he was trying to hide, his fear. Fear of oblivion.

"You are so screwed," muttered Cassie, beside Danny, as she spit out the blood in her mouth from a left hook by her father.

"What did you do to get him of all people in the world to come after you?" Rafael said, shaking his head, his already healing black eye causing him to look like h. Was smirking, "You shouldn't have been so ignorant, idiot."

"Stupid," Rod shook his head, his bottom lip swollen from a pinch to the mouth.

Danny remained as she was, ignoring all the pain from the vervain torture they had put her through. She hadn't said a word to them through the entire ordeal, and somehow managed to only cry out once during the entire torture session. She had gone completely inside herself during that time, just waiting inside her inner world. While her inner ripper had taken control of her body since she couldn't feel any pain. Her Ripper hadn't said a word either while she was in control, but had growled menacingly every time they did something. It had actually startled her captures, whom looked at her father as to what to do with her. He had told them to ignore it of course, but she still could tell they were weary of her.

"What do you want, Haunter?" Danny's father asked, anger rising. "Your kind takes my son, then Danielle, my brother, then my wife. What more can you take from me now?"

"Have you not heard my reputation? If you even heard one minute of it, then you would know that there's a lot of things that I can do to you that will make you regret asking that."

Danny's father looked angrier, "I doubt that, vampire."

"Then how about we start by having a little drink?"

"I take vervain every morning, fool," Her father growled.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about me," Nathaniel looked at her father with the coldest and most sadistic gaze.

"No..." Her father was breathless as the realization hit him, hopeless, "You wouldn't dare!"

Nathaniel raked his palm across the sharp jagged edges of the hole he created. Blood pooled in his hand. He grinned like a maniac and surged foreword, forcing Danny's father to drink his blood.

He choked and fell to his knees, begging to be spared this fate. But Nathaniel slammed the hammer down on his knee caps, pulverizing them. Then did the same to his feet and shins. And then he bent down to her father's face as he lay there in the ground, whispered something in Italian, and snapped his neck.

"Whatever he did to you and your team, Sister," he said hoarsely, turning to them as they sat in awe, "Will be bliss compared at what I have in store for him."

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Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.