Find Me

Chapter One

Sharp pain in my forearm and a small gasp brought me out of my daydream. There goes that chaotic soul mate of mine again. I hadn't met him yet, but I got his little cuts and scrapes all the time. I swear he was an adrenaline junkie. Somehow, it was supposed to help us find each other. Nevertheless, with the way it was going, I was fairly convinced he would meet an untimely demise before we got the chance. Was he human, like me? Maybe werewolf or vampire? That'd be unfortunate. I'd die well before he'd lived half his life. It would explain the need for danger, although it would probably ruin him to lose me so soon. And send a prayer to the Lord Almighty that he wasn't a Hunter. My parents were on the Council of Hunter-Hybrid Elimination and Prevention, affectionately referred to as "CHHEPS," and there was no way they'd even consider letting me stay with him. I couldn't imagine it.

Hunters had bad reputations and bad tempers. They killed for the thrill, unlike vampires or werewolves who had adopted strictly animal diets. Hunters attacked humans to feel their fear before they consumed them. Considering they were half-human themselves, they were regarded as abominations and threats to society, hence the need for CHHEPS. Still, I had hope. I could just feel it; he was human like me.

Another cut opened on my left arm. What was he doing? Trying to get killed? A small crimson drop landed on my textbook page. It was almost ironic, my history teacher had mentioned at the beginning of the year that a good grade in her class would require blood sweat and tears. I hadn't thought she meant it so literally. I focused in on the now pock-marked page again.

After the sudden appearance of mystical creatures, and a subsequent World War III, a truce was struck between vampires, werewolves, and humans. They wouldn't eat us and we wouldn't shove them in labs to be tested, to put it crudely. To assure this worked smoothly, the species were promised soul mates, whether of the same species or not. It's worked well so far. Vampires, humans, and werewolves dared not hurt each other because losing one's mate was a pain almost unimaginable and, quite literally, no one would wish that upon their worst enemy.

Then, Hunters were born. Half-human, half-vampire. Not all hybrids were destined to become Hunters. Hunters developed when they gave in to their craving for human blood. The temptation was twice as strong for them due to the human blood already coursing in their veins. When a Hunter gave into the crave and ate their first human, their eyes turned black and a circular black mark appeared on the side of their neck. No one knows how. It's just part of the mystery. As a result, vampire-human mateships were restricted to two children decades ago in an attempt at controlling the number of potentially dangerous hybrids. While it certainly helped, it didn't eradicate the problem entirely. Councils such as the one my parents were on created ways to keep hybrids from turning into Hunters. I sighed. To me, this was all old news. I highly doubted I'd find something novel in these pages.

Frustrated, I walked to the window. The skyline was gray. The low buildings were dirty and well used. The taller buildings had started falling apart well before I was born. They were unnecessary and hardly used. The tallest building, the Werewolf Intercontinental Center, stuck out conspicuously on the horizon. It was used for werewolf training which required the highest quality tech. Not to mention the rumor that common accidents required gadgets to be consistently replaced. No ordinary human had seen the inside, strictly werewolves and mates.

I was lucky enough to have the pleasure of living in the intercontinental capital. We were one of only a handful of cities with a population of humans, vampires, and werewolves. Most cities close to the equator were human-human mateship cities to keep our blood warm. Werewolf and human mateships came to a few degrees latitude above that, then werewolf-werewolf mateships, and so forth. The convenient set-up allowed places that had been uninhabitable for thousands of years, such as Antarctica or the North Pole, to be used as vampires' homes. It made the world less densely populated in some areas. Here in New New York, however (Or just York, as most people call it), we had a population of all the species. Still, building up wasn't what we needed. Vampires lived underground, werewolves preferred the woods ten miles out of the city, humans lived in the low building, and Hunters were pretty much homeless.

More pain, this time from my right arm, and a small bruise started to form. Shaking my head in what could almost be described as amusement, I walked over to my bathroom to clean up the other two cuts. After I had finished, I went downstairs to grab my backpack.

"Liv, sweetie, your father and I are going to be late. We have another Council meeting tonight!" My mother called from the kitchen.

"I expect great midnight chicken strips then!" I replied. I loved both of my parents dearly, yet it bothered me when they left me home alone. I appreciated what they were doing though, so I never complained. Plus, they always swung by whatever chicken joint they passed first on the way home.

School passed by in a daze. It was the worst kind of day, no tests, no guest lectures, no reason to be there other than mandatory attendance. Notes that had been perfectly organized at the beginning of the year had turned into a mess of doodles and thoughts. Being just a month away from graduating led me to lose most of my will to learn. There was nothing better to do except trace the light scars on my arms. The cuts had already started healing into pink, puckered lines (can't have wounds that stick around when they aren't even yours, right?), but some fresh bruises showed up on my leg that earned some weird glances in the hall. Bad day to wear a skirt.

"That soul mate of yours getting into trouble again, Lee?" I smiled at the voice and her habit of calling me by my last name. Amanda swung her legs over the chair next to mine. "You know, for a guy you haven't met yet, he sure does put you through a lot." She grinned at me, already knowing what I was going to say next.

"He'll be worth it, Mandy. They always are," I said, mocking what she had told me every day. Amanda and I had pretty much grown up together, so I had the opportunity to watch her meet and fall in love with her own soul mate. She was only 16 at the time, and he was 19, so they were waiting for graduation to seal the deal. Peter was patient, sweet, and impossibly perfect for her. He gave Mandy a real relationship with dates and flowers and "getting to know the family." Only 18 and she was a part of the greatest love known to North York High. I considered myself lucky to witness it. Then again, it left me with ridiculously high standards to live with.

"I know. Trust me, I know," she replied with a laugh. "Hey, so Peter is coming down for the night with some of his college buddies. They're promising a good time, but I could use my best girl as back up."

"Ah, the coveted second place," I sighed. She gave me a pout saying that's not what she meant even though we both knew that exactly what it was. It wasn't a big deal at all; Peter's friends were mostly unmated as well and we always had a grand time. The stories I had with them were of the variety one wouldn't tell their parents. Ever. "I'll be there without a doubt." I figured Mandy always invited me along because she secretly hoped my mate would be one of Peter's friends. The fun would be endless, the aftermath horrifying.

She walked me home to an empty house then left after a moment to change into "weekend appropriate clothing." I checked my legs in the mirror in the hallway to see what my mysterious other half had been up to, but the bruises had already faded and the cuts were completely healed. It was probably better off that way; who gets into a fight on a Friday morning? I just hoped he recovered as quickly as I did. While I turned to my room, I had to bury the faintly lingering disappointment. Though I'd never want him to be seriously injured, the cuts and scrapes were all I had to remind me I had a perfect fit. They were all I had to hold on to.

There were other issues to focus on. Date-night clothes. Mandy, notorious for her wild tendencies and lack of impulse control, had given me half her closet, insisting something I bought with my mom is not something I can wear out with the boys. I was a bit smaller than her, which worked well because I got her old clothes, but sometimes matching an outfit was tricky. What was stunning on her couldn't work on me because, well, Mandy was blonde and gorgeous and I had the blackest hair on the block. Our coloring was completely different. A red dress called out to me, so I slipped it on. One look in the mirror and all I could think was,

"Dang, girl. You're looking fine. Better hope that mate of yours is bowling tonight," Amanda laughed from my doorway. I turned my head and gave her a sly smirk.

"Wait, bowling?" I raised my brow. She shrugged. "Peter is promising you a good time and he's taking us bowling? I swear on the heavens above, I'll never know how you two got paired. Little Miss 'Isn't a Party Until I Walk In' and Mister 'My Idea of a Good Night is bowling.'" The red dress seemed a little too dressy now.

"I don't try to change him, just love him," Mandy said as she flopped on my bed. "You might want some jeans."

"Yeah, no kidding," I retorted. The red dress went back up in my closet and I quickly changed into black jeans and a large yellow t-shirt.

Bowling was never my forte, and I made no exceptions. By the fourth frame, it was clear I was destined to never hit a pin. Instead, I enjoyed talking to Henry, Peter's longest known friend. He told me stories about Peter that had me spitting up my drink and cramping with laughter. The more I learned about him, the more ridiculous it seemed to me that Mandy was at all comfortable with the idea of being stuck with him forever. Still, laughing felt good and being with my friends felt even better.

Undeniably, the best part of the night was Henry's attention. He was funny and cute. I let myself imagine just a moment what it would have been like to have him as a mate. We would have been inseparable from Mandy and Peter. We might have even had a joint wedding as soon as Mandy and I graduated. Our kids would have been cute, maybe with my black hair and his green eyes. I wondered where we would have lived after college. 

My daydreams were interrupted by an exclamation from across the bowling alley. The four of us turned to see a small group gathering under a television screen. 

"Hunter attack..." 

"It's been ages..." 

Mandy regarded with wide eyes. "A Hunter attack? That's not possible. They're practically rogues," She asked. "How would they organize something like that? Olivia?" I gaped for a second. 

"Well, I know it has happened a couple of times." The grimace on her face made it evident I hadn't said the right thing. Peter grabbed her hand. "But it was so long ago. Only after World War Three. They were so torn apart my parents said it would take a century for them to get the numbers and regroup." The new information seemed to do little to ease her. Peter stood her up and walked her over to the screen. Henry and I followed. 

"Holy cow, it's true," Henry muttered under his breath. On the screen, twenty or so Hunters, unmistakable by their pitch-black eyes, had taken a handful of government officials hostage. A younger one, maybe 23 years old with a small cut on his left arm, approached a camera and made a simple demand. 

"We want them."