Prologue

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Only three people in the world knew why I became a hunter. If you asked me, that was still too many. Sam, well... he just knew how to get things out of people. I kept telling myself that I told them because I wanted to. Which was partly true. I kept it to myself for years, so I felt relieved when I finally had someone to talk to. Or maybe I just didn't like to admit that the other reason why I told them was that it was out of necessity. Maybe.

I didn't mind though, telling them meant that the number of people that looked at me like I was the outsider went down by three. Three people that I could trust because they knew. The rest... they thought I was crazy for getting into the game without a reason, without having someone taken away from me. More than once I heard them talking about that girl from southern Kansas that was said to be in town. Little did they know that girl was sitting at the bar next to them hearing every word they thought they were whispering but said out loud because of the three glasses of beer before they went on to the scotch. They talked about the girl that played a game she didn't know the rules of, a game that they joined because a tragedy had given them a ticket to enter. Apparently, if you didn't live through a tragedy and came out on the other end either a hero or a drunk, there was no place for you in the world of hunters. At least not in their social circles.

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