Hunters

Chapter 17

"What on earth are we going to do now?" Rachel asked, curling up in the passenger's seat as Daniel braved Bucharest's smothering six p.m. traffic. Her eyes burned with exhaustion.

"How many darts do we have in those guns?" He tapped the wheel to the rhythm of the song on the radio.

She took the guns out of her rucksack and pulled out the cartridges. "Eight in one, six in the other."

"Good. You keep the fully-loaded one." He exhaled loudly as the line of cars moved a foot forward. "I say we rest tonight. We've been awake for over twenty-four hours. And tomorrow—" He swallowed. "We're going back to that Banshee. She might know something she hasn't told us yet."

"What about Vlad?" Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. They still hadn't thought of any half-decent plan.

Daniel ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it up even more. "I hate this stupid situation. I wanted that bastard dead because he made me kill Cheryl, and because killing him might make it easier for every Hunter out there. I still want to avenge Cheryl, but not at the cost of Vlad killing you. And the other Hunters...I don't really give a shit about them now, and they want us dead, too."

Rachel chewed her lip and stared past the sea of cars. He had a point. Screw the other Hunters if they were being so stupid about this. And she didn't want revenge to ruin their happiness, as much as she wanted Vlad to pay for what he did to Cheryl. For what he did to Daniel. But quitting is not in my vocabulary.

"Mine either. That's why—" He hit the brakes abruptly as another car cut into their lane. The whole line stood still again. He turned to her. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I won't give up on this. I want to see that asshole dead if it's the last thing I do. I won't be able to function if I run away."

"Babe, relax. I understand perfectly. I want to off that guy as much as you do." She smirked when she felt him relaxing.

"Didn't you use to call Chris 'babe'?"

She raised her eyebrows. She'd completely forgotten. "Sometimes. Didn't you use to call Cheryl sweetheart?"

"Touché!" He leaned over and gave her a quick, yet passionate kiss. "Sometimes. I love you when you're so feisty."

Rachel blushed. She loved him all the time.

🦇🦇🦇

Rachel leaned against the car and watched Daniel take the stairs of the hotel in Câmpulung two at a time. Her stomach felt like a knot of angry snakes. How come he hadn't felt anything? His senses were supposed to be sharper than hers.

She looked around, trying to detect the source of her nausea, but apart from humans and Daniel, she could sense nothing else. After trying for another few seconds and coming up with nothing, Rachel concentrated on her heavy, twisting stomach. There was no headache accompanying it. Weird. Maybe she'd eaten something that didn't agree with her and was just sick.

While she tried to retrace the sickness to a meal, the smell of cheese pâtés from the bakery across the street filled her nostrils. Her mouth instantly watered, the nausea forgotten. She wanted a pâté. No, a ton of pâtés.

I'm across the street, getting food, she thought randomly, not sure how much coverage their link had.

Rachel rushed to the bakery and bought a bag-full. God, the melted cheese flowing from the pastry was divine. She could eat those forever.

Her nausea disappeared, but her new and improved senses made her feel as if trapped inside a too small box. The Banshee's aura engulfed the city, making the air hard to breathe. She tugged at the neckline of her top.