The Hunter

Just a Small Job

Finn lay in her bed, her tea cup empty and her pain dulled to a low roar in her midsection. Gentle voices carried up the stairs occasionally, not loud enough to hear the words, but loud enough to carry the calm of the man's voice. She wondered vaguely who had been called to deal with the young woman, beginning to feel the pain pull her back into unconsciousness when a soft thump sounded beside her knees. She dragged her eyelids open and glared at the letter. It was a heavy paper envelope with a familiar wax seal on it and it had arrived at almost the worst time she could imagine. She drew it to her as she heard the front door close, skimming the summons be the Council as the footsteps approached up the stairs, dropped it with a sneer of disgust as Gloria stepped into her room.

"So apparently the Council has a job for me to do." Finn spoke.

"What's the Council? And what do you even do for a living?"

"For a living? Nothing, I have a personal investment broker that keeps my finances in the black. But I am the Hunter for the Council and when they summon you, gods all help you if you don't show up." Finn dragged back the blankets and looked at her bandages. "Help me up please?"

Gloria hesitated before she answered. "I really don't think that's a good idea."

"I agree, but I don't have the strength to tell the Council where they can shove the summons right now so-"

"Do you have to stand up though? Can't we just move the bed and everything?" Gloria answered and Finn stared.

"Uhm. Yes, I suppose we can." Finn settled back in the bed and closed her eyes to think. A few moments later her bed had wheels and a large door had appeared in her room. Gloria pushed the bed and Finn grimaced at the pain.

They exited the house into a clearing with a large bonfire lit in the middle of it. Stones covered in doilies and various cloths surrounded the fire and a few elders stood around in discussion of whatever the meeting had been about that ended with a Summons for the Hunter.

"Ah Finn, excellen - what the hell happened to you?" The man had begun talking to Finn as he turned to face her and was now staring at her in shock and dismay.

"Pietro." Finn greeted him as the rest of the four witches turned to face her, their expressions ranging from dismay to disappointment. Finn didn't bother to hide her simmering anger from any of them. Pietro - the youngest witch on the Council - pulled a stoppered bottle from a bag around his waist and hurried to Finn.

"There is an issue that has come to our attention that requires yours." The shortest of the women spoke evenly, although there was concern on her face as she watched Pietro as he examined Finn.

"Athena?" Pietro asked. At Finn's nod he shook his head and tsked. "Finn can't do anything right now." He stood and faced the three other elders. "If she was my patient I would have her sedated and on intravenous. We cannot ask her to do this now."

Finn raised an eyebrow and glanced at Pietro. He was a surgeon in a back water little clinic that couldn't afford him somewhere in the southwest states. He was there by choice and worked tirelessly to patch up the general injuries of farmers, stab and gunshot wounds from rival gangs that knew he would treat them without calling the authorities, and all the general injuries between. She had never applied the word 'kind' to him, however, and knew that although he often did work for future favours those favours were a higher price than she would have been willing to pay.

"Finn has a job to do. It is her own damned fault if she has an injury, we didn't give her the job she got injured on." Finn growled at the dark skinned witch that spoke and made as though to stand up. Pietro's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Whatever happened, she has broken ribs and her lung was cut. Badly. Athena has everything sewn up, so it will heal, but it will also take more time than usual for one of ours." Pietro glanced at Finn. "Even my potions aren't going to help with that, Amahle." Pietro, besides a surgeon, was one of the most accomplished alchemists in the world, and Finn winced at what his statement meant. If he had no potions for it she would be stuck with acetaminophen and time. Not her favourite combination for healing.

"Tell me what it is now." She waved vaguely at Gloria. "I have a Chronicler to train, I can train her in defense for now and by the time I'm good to go she won't be a liability to me." Pietro and Amahle shared an incredulous glance while the witch that had been silent to this point raised an eyebrow.

"A Chronicler? Well, see to it that you train her to do the job properly, if you are capable of that. It will be nice to see a competent Chronicler in my life time again." She sniffed disdainfully before continuing, ignoring the incredulous looks turned to shock and fear and were directed to her. "There's some sort of cult in Canada. They've been trying to breed pure werewolves or something. I have no reason to suspect it's more than the beginnings of a cult so do try not to kill people. I know you have a penchant for getting blood on your hands, but as this is official Council business do your job cleanly."

Finn heard Gloria gasp behind her as she met the gaze of the witch with a glare of her own. Elizabeth kept her face neutral while she held Finn's gaze. Every other witch present dropped their eyes before finally a voice cut through the tension.

"I thought I was quite clear when I said Finn was not to be involved." Finn growled and snapped her eyes to the woman in leather stepping out of the forest. "You have other assets you can use while she heals."

"It's a small job and it's been assigned to her. Finn can get it done while it's small, or wait for it to get bigger. Either way, it's hers to deal with now." Finn waved her hand and her bed immediately began to roll back through the door that hadn't closed. In front of her the witches continued to argue with each other and the newcomer, although Pietro did pause to throw a potion onto the foot of the bed before Finn was too far gone.

The door closed behind them and Finn's bed settled back into it's spot.

"Wasn't that the woman from the Café?" Gloria asked. Finn hissed an angry breath out of her lungs.

"Yes."

"At least it's a small job."

"Yeah, no. We'll get to that, but no. It's not going to be a small job." Gloria lifted the potion, read the label, then passed it to Finn. Finn read it and carefully laughed. "Moonshine. Definitly not a small job."