They were sitting on the edge of the mattress, looking out on the city, and the sun was rising over the Rimrocks.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“We need to get out of here. It’s been all night.”

“Okay,” said the boy. “What happened to the time?”

“I don’t know. We need to get out of here now.”

Their footfalls on the cement steps echoed off the cement angles of the stairwell. They stopped twice to listen, thinking they had heard a pursuit, but could only detect their own shallow breathing and thumping hearts.

The stairs emptied at the back of the unfinished building, behind a knoll of construction debris that had grown grass in their idle setting. The grass had died, and now it was a tumor that perhaps would never be cleared away.

“We need to stay awake,” said Hawk.

Spiked nodded. His eyes were heavy and half-closed.

“Do you understand me? You can’t sleep for twenty-four hours.”

He nodded.

“I know a game room. We’ll stay there until it’s time.”

They climbed the hill and circled the building. At the fence to the square, he stopped.

“Spike. Don’t look.”

But it was too late. The boy had seen, and upon seeing, he buried his face in Hawk’s arm and let out a sob.

“Buenos días, chicos,” said the man. He stepped over the guts of a disemboweled Greta. Her mask had been ripped away to reveal a girl’s pretty face gazing up into the morning. “Yes, yes, beautiful! What did I tell you guys?” He turned, giving a wistful glance at the two hunters behind him–a man and a boy no older than Hawk. The boy had blood smeared across his face. At their feet, other bodies littered the square, where the grout between the tiles shimmered with the crimson, cold, coagulating blood of the dead.

Hawk swallowed, and, had his stomach not been already empty, he would have vomited. He kept the man in his sights and slowly pushed Spike behind him. His breath leveled. His heart calmed. Before him, the strings of the Veil glittered, and his feet warmed by the impending fire. He felt Spike’s grip on him tighten.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Un momento, por favor,” said Andreas. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, for it will be the last thing you do. Hear me out, and you might have a chance.”

He took another ginger step forward, and Hawk felt every muscle in his body tense.

“Okay.” Andreas raised his hands. “Sorry about this.” He gestured to the bodies. “You see, we didn’t have a choice. We felt it all the way across the city. That enchantment was a substantial infringement on the rules of the game. Chicos, you can’t go around pulling from the Veil like that. Shit!” He took another step toward them. “So, which one of you is the wizard?”

“Why did you kill them?” Spike shouted, his voice full of sorrow.

“Well…” Andreas moved forward.

“Stop, goddamn it!” shouted Hawk. “Get ready to run. Don’t look back,” he whispered to Spike.

“There will be no running.” He was now a few feet away. “You see my friends over there? The small one is Travis. The big guy is Greg. They control the beast. You know the beast, huh? Imagine werewolves but more hideous, more dangerous, and harder to kill. They are hungry after all the work we did last night.” He laughed. “I mean, I can hardly call something I love so much ‘work,’ but hunting burns a lot of calories. Here’s what’s going to happen if you run. You might try to throw a chant, but I don’t think a couple of young bucks like you have the experience of battle. The beast will chase you down, jump on you from the back, break your spinal cord, paralyze you, and then start eating you from the balls up while you’re still alive. It’s going to get all your good smells into its nostrils, and then when it’s done with you, it’s going to follow those smells back to your home and kill everyone you love, just to make sure. Just for spite.”

Hawk shouted, “Don’t you move one more inch, or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll what? I need to see. I need to make sure that you’re the ones I’ve been dreaming about.” He reached out—each finger adorned with a gold ring, each fingernail long and carefully manicured—and lifted Hawk’s shirt. A smile spread across his face when he saw the scars. “Oh yes, it is you, my little faggot firebird.” He ran a cold finger across his chest. “Tell me, do your men appreciate my art?” He let the shirt fall. “Come here, little one. Let me see you. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. Not yet.”

“Don’t you fucking touch him.”

“Oh, do you have a claim?”

It was Spike who stepped forward. “See.” He pulled off his shirt and ripped off the bandages, letting them fall to the ground.

Andreas leered. “And my little chocolate candy. You’re more beautiful than I could have imagined. Say, did you practice any of the tricks I showed you?”

“Back up.” The soles of Hawk’s feet burned like molten lava.

Andreas stepped back. “You need to enjoy that. He’s a freaky little fuck.” He returned to the dead Greta and kicked her head so that her body flopped over.

“Now, here’s the deal. The Sisters want you dead. They’ve contracted with me to see that done. But I’m a free agent. I’m building a little pack of my own. Join me. Help me kill the Maji and stop the Chaos, and all will be forgiven.” He looked at his watch. “You have exactly thirteen days before I start hunting you again. But now, I know where to look. There is no place you can go. There is no place you can hide where I will not find you. It will be the last hunt.”

He returned to the boy and the man. “My friends here will meet you at the Cage on the final day. If you’re not there, we know what to do.” At the alley, before they vanished, he shouted back, “Be careful, Firebird. I’m not the only wolf in the forest.”