CHAPTER
ONE
I jiggled my keys impatiently as I looked at my watch for the thousandth time in the last five seconds or so, sighing in annoyance I leaned back against a black Holden Ute with VCOA (Vampire controllers of Australia) sprawled across the side in bright, reflective silver.
I looked up hopefully at the sound of a door slamming and scowled at my partner in annoyance, Zac Daley was a kid who practically had good personality shining out of his ass and a laugh that drew hot chicks to him like starving flies to a piece of rotten meat, worst of all was that he knew how to use it to his own gain.
"You're late." I growled at him, turning to unlock the Ute’s door and sliding in, the oppressing heat that was trapped in the car hitting me hard, making me wish that I had my bike. Zac, on the other hand didn't seem bothered by the humidity that had reached high 80’s just after breakfast sometime. Australian spring, you’ve just got to love it.
"What? Are you really that eager to go and kiss Mark's ass Tor?" Zac calmly drawled as he slicked his short brown hair back behind his ears, showing his left ear off to perfection. I couldn't even see his bloody lobe under all that glittering silver that he tried to pass off as a fashion statement.
"Didn't Mark tell you to take those out?" I asked as I turned the engine on, thanking God that this Ute had working Air Con.
Zac rolled his eyes at me. "Fuck Tor, stop being so bloody anal about the 'VCOA code' they didn't bother you yesterday!"
I sighed, nodding slightly to myself. "Fine whatever, if you get into trouble though I want nothing of it." I warned him. "Not to mention I haven't had much sleep lately."
"Which explains the moodiness at least," Zac grumbled as he unwrapped then plopped a piece of bubble gum into his mouth. "Anyways, you work too much, Tor my boy; you should go and take a few weeks off. You're going to burn yourself out otherwise."
I scowled hard at a small red and black car in front of us that reminded me vividly of a matchbox car and seemed to have the horsepower of one as it crawled along in front of me. "Shove it Zac."
He smiled in reply, clearly use to my touchiness on the subject of me working too much and instantly moved the topic onto what he was up too last night, which seemed to have involved a large party and some chick that wore minis and couldn't seem to keep her hands off his God-like body. Somebody please shoot me, I was never so glad to see the large average looking sixteen story building that housed the VCOA's head office of Brisbane, Queensland. Australia.
Fifteen minutes later found me in a large conference room awaiting the usual speech Mark made before a rather tiring patrol, why the large gathering and speech before a relatively normal night of patrolling? Well, for starters it was a Saturday, which was always a pain in the neck on its own, toss in that it was a full moon and it was a fucking disaster. The night was going to be filled with moon crazed monsters, forced changed first time Lycanthropes, which simply meant those who turned animal for the first time with little if any human qualities, witches doing spells and praying to whichever God/Goddess they chose to believe in and too top it all off the frantically anti-monster movements will be on red alert, eager to bash any unsuspecting person or monster into submission for not believing in the all powerful, monster hating God that they believed in.
Zac
blew a large lime green gum bubble as he leaned the chair back on its two legs
and flirted casually with one of the female hunters who seemed to find his
amazing powers to blow gum bubbles totally awesome.
Yeah, even the VCOA hired complete idiots for some reason or another. I on the other hand had been recruited straight out of the army, I had mastered in Para-normal biology and law before joining the military to pay off my university degree. That’s where the VCOA head-hunter found me and quickly recruited me, saving me from a life of politics and law, which I have learned to hate with a passion in the past two years.
There was sudden movement next to me as Zac straightened his chair, spat out his gum and shook his head in a practiced movement so that his hair shifted to cover his ears from sight.
I couldn't help but grin, like most people Zac could talk big but when it came to having to face Mark he would lower his eyes and grovel like the undeserving minion that he was.
Mark Brown, current head boss of the Brisbane VCOA for the past five years, before that he was first hired by the original owner and hunter Paul Warwick who founded the organization to protect the human race from itself once Monsters were officially viewed legal after a longer than memory debate. Oh yeah, monsters have been around for as long as humans can remember, usually we have been at constant war with them but 30 or so years ago they were allowed certain rights after a political party that felt sorry for them pushed though a paper that let them have more rights in the community.
"Right," Mark barked bringing everyone’s attention to the tall burly looking male that just entered the room, his short hair and neatly trimmed moustache had a sprinkling of grey though it making him appear less like an ex- soldier and hunter and more like a business owner. "Tonight is going to be bloody tough so I expect 110% out of all of you!" He growled his steely grey eyes studied us all carefully before snapping his eyes to me. "Tor, you and Zac are going to be patrolling the Valley district."
Ok, for those of you that don't live in Brisbane. Let me explain to you what the Valley is like, it’s roughly a five minute drive from the city centre and is really starting to crumble around the edges. The only thing keeping the place afloat is the China Town and the ever-popular nightclubs. So, effectively Zac and I had a rough estimate of three thousand binge drinking people on the streets at the one time as they wondered aimlessly between clubs and small fast food joints and would so until around two am when the clubs would go into lockdown. Which is when you’re either in a club, or you go home.
Now, VCOA personal seem to be able to create an easy route though large crowds, Mark called it respect. I call it fear. In my option we look like fucking Black OP troops in our full body gear, which involves unique full body armour that is able to stop bullets and claws from penetrating, a helmet that had a full face visor that reminded me strongly of my motorbike helmet, both had VCOA blazed across front and back in reflective silver. On top of that already rather intimating appearance we both had a .45 Calibre Nighthawk in a thigh holster and a 5.56mm NATO Calibre M4A1 high-powered rifle strapped over our shoulders. Both magazines were filled with bullets that had high contents of silver in them, oh yeah. There is a very good reason why no one fucks with VCOA hunters on a full moon.
Zac blew a blue gum bubble, popped it then looked over at me with a grin. Strongly reminding me of a cud chewing cow, that had been diagnosed with mad cow disease.
"So far so good, right Tor?" He asked, winking at a young female that barely looked the legal age to be out clubbing.
"Don't jinx it mate." I answered lightly, scanning the crowds carefully.
Zac spat out his gum with a snort; running his fingers over his M4A1 lovingly. "Well, maybe I want some action; these new guns are burning a hole in my hands!"
A loud, echoing howl filled the streets, sending the drunken clubbers on the streets scampering for the cover and safety of the clubs. If the situation wasn’t so dire the sight of drunks falling over each other to shove themselves into clubs they normally wouldn't pay to enter would have been bloody amusing. But that howl meant there was a hungry were-wolf around here if not an entire pack and that was honestly far from amusing.
Brunswick Street had cleared in record time; even the average cops were keeping a low profile on this one. Leaving it empty and eerily deserted, the only sounds were the surrounding clubs fighting each other over who had the loudest bass. I looked at Zac with a dry look.
"I told you not to jinx it you ass." I growled at him, before picking up a quick jog towards the sound of the howl.
To be honest I was shocked to see a lone male hurrying towards us. Both Zac and I raised our rifles slightly at the sight of him, unsure if this was a late human scampering for cover or the source of the howl that we had heard earlier.
The male looked up, seeing us he changed course and hurried towards us. Clearly he had been running for a while. "Please! You have got to help me!" He cried out in a heavy accent as he stumbled close enough for me to see the blood covering his arms and legs.
"By God, what has happened to you man?" Zac demanded disgust was pretty clear on his face.
The male collapsed at our feet, giving me a better look at him. He had shoulder length, wavy black hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. As he gazed up to me I decided that he was either Mexican or Spanish in ancestry. "Children of God!" The male panted heavily; before slowly but proudly getting back to his feet, as he straightened I could see that he had a black eye, his nose looked broken and had blood gushing from his face as if he had face planted a wall.
"They've separated me from my pack, intent on killing me in hopes of shattering the pack to the winds with the loss of their leader."
Zac chewed the inside of his cheek. "Pack, I take it that were you then that sounded the hunting howling?" He asked, fury starting to enter his cold stare. "You know Packs must hunt outside of city limits and any first were's must be out of the city on its first moon."
The male gave him a dry look. "I know that you fool, but since I am clearly in human form I fail to see why you are being so hostile towards me."
"Yeah, why is that?" Zac growled. "I thought all Lycans were forced changed on a full moon."
I barely resisted the urge to slap myself on the forehead.
"I am Juan Varela. Alpha of the Sombra amonestadores pack." The male answered with a snarl. "And I can tell you that only a new Lycan is forced changed, the rest of us can remain in human form even though the call to change is strong and any strong change in emotion won't help my control."
I rested a restraining hand on Zac's chest, practically hearing the smart-ass comments that were chasing themselves around in his head. I was almost grateful when seven humans rushed around the corner, slowing slightly as they noticed Zac and I were staring at them with raised eyebrows. The last thing I really needed was Juan to lose control and slice Zac up good for being a smart mouthing asshole.
"Those are the fanatic cultists." Juan muttered as he eyed them steadily, apparently feeling cockier now that he had Zac and I to back him up. Though I didn't fail to notice the slight growl that entered his voice, which signalled the first sign of changing, "You VCOA dogs going to back off and let them have at me?"
"Not on my watch mate." I replied, moving so the nozzle of the M4A1 in their general direction. Noting with some happiness that Zac was following my example, if somewhat reluctantly.
"Thank God we ran into you when we did!" A female with deadlocks and a nose piercing said as she swung a metal bat over her shoulder. "We caught this freak forcing one of our members to change!"
The hatred in her voice could have kept a small city warm all winter; I looked over at Juan for his side of the story.
He looked at me, again in surprise as if he expected me to hit him over the back of the head. Not ask him for his side of their story. I merely raised a questioning eyebrow at him.
"He was bitten by one of my pack members when the cult raided one of our dens last week." Juan explained the tightening around his eyes let me know he wasn't sure how we were going to react to the news. "He tracked us down two hours before the moon rose for help when he changed..."
"No!" A small male with a shaven face and neat blond hair complained. "Dan would never do such a thing! He would have come to us first; we're working on a cure that might have saved his soul."
"Well, maybe he preferred not to be tortured to death." Zac growled, causing me to wonder whose side he was on.
Deadlocks raised her eyebrows at us, her hatred suddenly expanding to include us. I could almost see the shimmering heat of her anger dance along my skin.
"Rein that temper of yours in love." I drawled, keeping a wary eye on her. "Neither you nor the Lycan have done anything wrong yet, let’s try and keep it that way and just move on our own merry way."
A large male with a biker beard mumbled softly once taking note of our weaponry. "That sounds fair officer." His tone carried nothing but respect, but his eyes told me that some unsuspecting monster was going to get his arse kicked before the sun rose.
"Off you go then." Zac snarled after a few heartbeats of fairly awkward silence.
The frantic took another look at Juan before walking away, grumbling under their breaths evilly. As a unit both Zac and I faced Juan who looked decidedly nervous but determined.
"You should go and catch up with your pack. I don't want to hear any more trouble from your lot tonight ok?" I said as I slung my rifle over my shoulder casually.
At a rueful glance at the empty alleyway he looked back at me. "May I have your name hunter? You saved my life tonight, I owe you."
At first I was tempted to tell him to go on his merry way, then decided that having a monster owe me might come useful later and nodded with a soft sigh.
"Names, Tobias Desmond." I replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
Juan nodded once before turning and effectively vanishing into the shadows.
"Hope you know what you're doing Tor." Zac muttered beside me. "I know how you hold a dislike for the monsters."
"If I hated dealing with them then I would be in another line of work don't you think?" I replied with a small grin. "I just think we're giving them too much power, it’s sort of like giving a mass murderer our blessings."
Zac laughed softly. "I think you might be onto something there actually. But you always seem, so... reluctant to have anything to do with them."
I shrugged, sliding my thumbs into my belt. "Convinced your dad to give you his entire inheritance yet?"
Zac pulled a disgruntled face. "Nope, I'm starting to get the impression that I could become the fucking PM and he still wouldn't find me dedicated and mature enough to take over his empire."
I slapped him on the back with a soft laugh. "It’s only been six months mate. Give the old bugger time to recognise his reformed son. You could also, I dunno, become a little more dedicated to the VCOA."
Zac rolled his eyes with a snort. "Tor, my friend, you carry enough dedication for both of us, if not for half of the currently hired hunters."
"Real mature Zac." I muttered, glancing at my watch glad to find that it was 15min past 3. Meaning that most of the party goers were currently either locked in a club or heading home with only an hour or two left before dawn the worst of the night had passed while I was looking the other way. Thank God.
"What do you say about heading home early?" I asked, moving to take a short cut between too loud and clearly overcrowded nightclubs. Zac's eyes brightened at the prospect of getting extra sleep and nodded eagerly. "Hell yeah, for once I'm glad it was a quiet night."
I merely shook my head at him with a grin. Zac had a habit of reminding me of a kid who had found out that Christmas was going to be for everyday of the year. Before noting what appeared to be a large garbage bag leaning up against the side of a building.
"What is that?" I asked, nodding my chin towards the bag.
Zac hardly glanced at it before shrugging his shoulders. "We're in the Valley Tor! It could be anything."
I bite my bottom lip, something just didn't feel right. "C'mon Zac, we should check it out just in case. Mark would kill us if we let an average cop found out something interesting."
Zac merely sighed in defeat and changed his course so he walked towards the bag. A couple of steps from it he crinkled his nose and said in disgust filled voice. "Urgh, what the fuck is that smell?"
"Shit and blood" I answered coldly as I caught up with him, that bad feeling I had in my stomach suddenly started fighting for a way out. I swallowed roughly and opened the bag, almost losing my dinner as guts and blood rushed over my boots. I took a hurried step back before taking a closer look at the headless body that was all too clearly female that had a slit in the lower stomach allowing her insides to spill between her legs allowing her to keep what little dignity she had left.
"Oh God," Zac heaved as he threw up behind a nearby dumpster.
A fresh body found on our beat during a full moon, Mark was going to kill us, fucking hell.
Yeah, even the VCOA hired complete idiots for some reason or another. I on the other hand had been recruited straight out of the army, I had mastered in Para-normal biology and law before joining the military to pay off my university degree. That’s where the VCOA head-hunter found me and quickly recruited me, saving me from a life of politics and law, which I have learned to hate with a passion in the past two years.
There was sudden movement next to me as Zac straightened his chair, spat out his gum and shook his head in a practiced movement so that his hair shifted to cover his ears from sight.
I couldn't help but grin, like most people Zac could talk big but when it came to having to face Mark he would lower his eyes and grovel like the undeserving minion that he was.
Mark Brown, current head boss of the Brisbane VCOA for the past five years, before that he was first hired by the original owner and hunter Paul Warwick who founded the organization to protect the human race from itself once Monsters were officially viewed legal after a longer than memory debate. Oh yeah, monsters have been around for as long as humans can remember, usually we have been at constant war with them but 30 or so years ago they were allowed certain rights after a political party that felt sorry for them pushed though a paper that let them have more rights in the community.
"Right," Mark barked bringing everyone’s attention to the tall burly looking male that just entered the room, his short hair and neatly trimmed moustache had a sprinkling of grey though it making him appear less like an ex- soldier and hunter and more like a business owner. "Tonight is going to be bloody tough so I expect 110% out of all of you!" He growled his steely grey eyes studied us all carefully before snapping his eyes to me. "Tor, you and Zac are going to be patrolling the Valley district."
Ok, for those of you that don't live in Brisbane. Let me explain to you what the Valley is like, it’s roughly a five minute drive from the city centre and is really starting to crumble around the edges. The only thing keeping the place afloat is the China Town and the ever-popular nightclubs. So, effectively Zac and I had a rough estimate of three thousand binge drinking people on the streets at the one time as they wondered aimlessly between clubs and small fast food joints and would so until around two am when the clubs would go into lockdown. Which is when you’re either in a club, or you go home.
Now, VCOA personal seem to be able to create an easy route though large crowds, Mark called it respect. I call it fear. In my option we look like fucking Black OP troops in our full body gear, which involves unique full body armour that is able to stop bullets and claws from penetrating, a helmet that had a full face visor that reminded me strongly of my motorbike helmet, both had VCOA blazed across front and back in reflective silver. On top of that already rather intimating appearance we both had a .45 Calibre Nighthawk in a thigh holster and a 5.56mm NATO Calibre M4A1 high-powered rifle strapped over our shoulders. Both magazines were filled with bullets that had high contents of silver in them, oh yeah. There is a very good reason why no one fucks with VCOA hunters on a full moon.
Zac blew a blue gum bubble, popped it then looked over at me with a grin. Strongly reminding me of a cud chewing cow, that had been diagnosed with mad cow disease.
"So far so good, right Tor?" He asked, winking at a young female that barely looked the legal age to be out clubbing.
"Don't jinx it mate." I answered lightly, scanning the crowds carefully.
Zac spat out his gum with a snort; running his fingers over his M4A1 lovingly. "Well, maybe I want some action; these new guns are burning a hole in my hands!"
A loud, echoing howl filled the streets, sending the drunken clubbers on the streets scampering for the cover and safety of the clubs. If the situation wasn’t so dire the sight of drunks falling over each other to shove themselves into clubs they normally wouldn't pay to enter would have been bloody amusing. But that howl meant there was a hungry were-wolf around here if not an entire pack and that was honestly far from amusing.
Brunswick Street had cleared in record time; even the average cops were keeping a low profile on this one. Leaving it empty and eerily deserted, the only sounds were the surrounding clubs fighting each other over who had the loudest bass. I looked at Zac with a dry look.
"I told you not to jinx it you ass." I growled at him, before picking up a quick jog towards the sound of the howl.
To be honest I was shocked to see a lone male hurrying towards us. Both Zac and I raised our rifles slightly at the sight of him, unsure if this was a late human scampering for cover or the source of the howl that we had heard earlier.
The male looked up, seeing us he changed course and hurried towards us. Clearly he had been running for a while. "Please! You have got to help me!" He cried out in a heavy accent as he stumbled close enough for me to see the blood covering his arms and legs.
"By God, what has happened to you man?" Zac demanded disgust was pretty clear on his face.
The male collapsed at our feet, giving me a better look at him. He had shoulder length, wavy black hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. As he gazed up to me I decided that he was either Mexican or Spanish in ancestry. "Children of God!" The male panted heavily; before slowly but proudly getting back to his feet, as he straightened I could see that he had a black eye, his nose looked broken and had blood gushing from his face as if he had face planted a wall.
"They've separated me from my pack, intent on killing me in hopes of shattering the pack to the winds with the loss of their leader."
Zac chewed the inside of his cheek. "Pack, I take it that were you then that sounded the hunting howling?" He asked, fury starting to enter his cold stare. "You know Packs must hunt outside of city limits and any first were's must be out of the city on its first moon."
The male gave him a dry look. "I know that you fool, but since I am clearly in human form I fail to see why you are being so hostile towards me."
"Yeah, why is that?" Zac growled. "I thought all Lycans were forced changed on a full moon."
I barely resisted the urge to slap myself on the forehead.
"I am Juan Varela. Alpha of the Sombra amonestadores pack." The male answered with a snarl. "And I can tell you that only a new Lycan is forced changed, the rest of us can remain in human form even though the call to change is strong and any strong change in emotion won't help my control."
I rested a restraining hand on Zac's chest, practically hearing the smart-ass comments that were chasing themselves around in his head. I was almost grateful when seven humans rushed around the corner, slowing slightly as they noticed Zac and I were staring at them with raised eyebrows. The last thing I really needed was Juan to lose control and slice Zac up good for being a smart mouthing asshole.
"Those are the fanatic cultists." Juan muttered as he eyed them steadily, apparently feeling cockier now that he had Zac and I to back him up. Though I didn't fail to notice the slight growl that entered his voice, which signalled the first sign of changing, "You VCOA dogs going to back off and let them have at me?"
"Not on my watch mate." I replied, moving so the nozzle of the M4A1 in their general direction. Noting with some happiness that Zac was following my example, if somewhat reluctantly.
"Thank God we ran into you when we did!" A female with deadlocks and a nose piercing said as she swung a metal bat over her shoulder. "We caught this freak forcing one of our members to change!"
The hatred in her voice could have kept a small city warm all winter; I looked over at Juan for his side of the story.
He looked at me, again in surprise as if he expected me to hit him over the back of the head. Not ask him for his side of their story. I merely raised a questioning eyebrow at him.
"He was bitten by one of my pack members when the cult raided one of our dens last week." Juan explained the tightening around his eyes let me know he wasn't sure how we were going to react to the news. "He tracked us down two hours before the moon rose for help when he changed..."
"No!" A small male with a shaven face and neat blond hair complained. "Dan would never do such a thing! He would have come to us first; we're working on a cure that might have saved his soul."
"Well, maybe he preferred not to be tortured to death." Zac growled, causing me to wonder whose side he was on.
Deadlocks raised her eyebrows at us, her hatred suddenly expanding to include us. I could almost see the shimmering heat of her anger dance along my skin.
"Rein that temper of yours in love." I drawled, keeping a wary eye on her. "Neither you nor the Lycan have done anything wrong yet, let’s try and keep it that way and just move on our own merry way."
A large male with a biker beard mumbled softly once taking note of our weaponry. "That sounds fair officer." His tone carried nothing but respect, but his eyes told me that some unsuspecting monster was going to get his arse kicked before the sun rose.
"Off you go then." Zac snarled after a few heartbeats of fairly awkward silence.
The frantic took another look at Juan before walking away, grumbling under their breaths evilly. As a unit both Zac and I faced Juan who looked decidedly nervous but determined.
"You should go and catch up with your pack. I don't want to hear any more trouble from your lot tonight ok?" I said as I slung my rifle over my shoulder casually.
At a rueful glance at the empty alleyway he looked back at me. "May I have your name hunter? You saved my life tonight, I owe you."
At first I was tempted to tell him to go on his merry way, then decided that having a monster owe me might come useful later and nodded with a soft sigh.
"Names, Tobias Desmond." I replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
Juan nodded once before turning and effectively vanishing into the shadows.
"Hope you know what you're doing Tor." Zac muttered beside me. "I know how you hold a dislike for the monsters."
"If I hated dealing with them then I would be in another line of work don't you think?" I replied with a small grin. "I just think we're giving them too much power, it’s sort of like giving a mass murderer our blessings."
Zac laughed softly. "I think you might be onto something there actually. But you always seem, so... reluctant to have anything to do with them."
I shrugged, sliding my thumbs into my belt. "Convinced your dad to give you his entire inheritance yet?"
Zac pulled a disgruntled face. "Nope, I'm starting to get the impression that I could become the fucking PM and he still wouldn't find me dedicated and mature enough to take over his empire."
I slapped him on the back with a soft laugh. "It’s only been six months mate. Give the old bugger time to recognise his reformed son. You could also, I dunno, become a little more dedicated to the VCOA."
Zac rolled his eyes with a snort. "Tor, my friend, you carry enough dedication for both of us, if not for half of the currently hired hunters."
"Real mature Zac." I muttered, glancing at my watch glad to find that it was 15min past 3. Meaning that most of the party goers were currently either locked in a club or heading home with only an hour or two left before dawn the worst of the night had passed while I was looking the other way. Thank God.
"What do you say about heading home early?" I asked, moving to take a short cut between too loud and clearly overcrowded nightclubs. Zac's eyes brightened at the prospect of getting extra sleep and nodded eagerly. "Hell yeah, for once I'm glad it was a quiet night."
I merely shook my head at him with a grin. Zac had a habit of reminding me of a kid who had found out that Christmas was going to be for everyday of the year. Before noting what appeared to be a large garbage bag leaning up against the side of a building.
"What is that?" I asked, nodding my chin towards the bag.
Zac hardly glanced at it before shrugging his shoulders. "We're in the Valley Tor! It could be anything."
I bite my bottom lip, something just didn't feel right. "C'mon Zac, we should check it out just in case. Mark would kill us if we let an average cop found out something interesting."
Zac merely sighed in defeat and changed his course so he walked towards the bag. A couple of steps from it he crinkled his nose and said in disgust filled voice. "Urgh, what the fuck is that smell?"
"Shit and blood" I answered coldly as I caught up with him, that bad feeling I had in my stomach suddenly started fighting for a way out. I swallowed roughly and opened the bag, almost losing my dinner as guts and blood rushed over my boots. I took a hurried step back before taking a closer look at the headless body that was all too clearly female that had a slit in the lower stomach allowing her insides to spill between her legs allowing her to keep what little dignity she had left.
"Oh God," Zac heaved as he threw up behind a nearby dumpster.
A fresh body found on our beat during a full moon, Mark was going to kill us, fucking hell.
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