Soulbound

9. Ashe

They say that nothing good ever happens after midnight, but what the hell do they know?

They did not have to go stomping around in the middle of the woods looking for a blood-crazed, man-eating shifter. There are better ways I could be spending the witching hours of my Friday night. After Catalina's visit earlier, a bottle or two of whiskey would be a good start.

Still, as the moon glares down like a watchful eye over Goss Hollow Park and illuminates the narrow hiking trail beneath me, my muscles flex and the Reaper's mark dances across my skin as my body hums in anticipation. Despite my feelings on the bureaucracies of our world and the mark that binds me to them, even I sometimes found it hard to deny the thrill of the hunt.

But the woods?

Although I'm sure it was surviving on any unlucky animal it stumbled upon out here, after so long without the succulent taste of human flesh to satisfy the cravings it must be going mad by now. Why did this cougar not stalk the slums and back alleys of the city like a normal prowler? There was plenty of prey in those dark corners and I would much rather hunt in an environment that I could control. Maybe then it would not have taken me almost a week to get to this point.

At least I was close now.

Unlike the lycans and their ragtag packs, most fera preferred to live a solitary life and the gata were no exception. For this particular cat to be out hunting humans, though, something must have pissed it off to the point where it was unable to change back—a trait that the ferae often despised in their savage cousins. Spending so much time as the animal they carry inside would be enough to drive any shifter insane.

A shriek of laughter draws my attention to the forest floor and I crouch lower on the tree branch I was perched on.

A young couple strolled along the trail some fifty feet below me, their raised voices echoing in the quiet, and I shake my head. To be walking around the woods at night was bad enough, but to do so with the looming threat of 'wild animal attacks' was just idiotic. Did they not watch the news or did they simply not value their lives?

Even against their better judgment, humans seemed predisposed to putting themselves in harm's way. Were they always so self-destructive?

I have been following these two for the better part of an hour now, watching them crash around the woods like drunken fools, oblivious to the dangers that lurked in the shadows just beyond their sight. Perhaps the pungent odor of cannabis surrounding them impacted their common sense. It would do nothing to mask the aroma of live blood pulsing in their veins, though. A shifter could smell that for miles.

The woman loses her footing as she trips over a tree root and stumbles, causing another peal of laughter to spill from her lips as the man next to her takes a drag from the joint in his hand. Neither of them are aware that this is their last night on earth.

They make it too easy.

I feel a tinge of guilt harden in my throat for using them as a decoy like this but quickly swallow it back down. Live bait was the only surefire way to lure this prowler out of hiding, and thus far my own half-human scent has done little to tempt it.

Besides, these two were foolish enough to waltz into the woods at this hour and against the advisement of their local authorities. The inevitable repercussions from their stupidity may as well be a public service to humanity.