Chapter 1

I've led a pretty interesting life, travelled the world and learned many great things it has to offer. But, proving that wonders will never cease, the grandest adventure of my life began with a simple trip to Broadway.

I was going to see The Book Of Mormon. Not having attended a red carpet in ages, the board of my company, Conglomerate Inc., was starting to get antsy, afraid that I was fading from the public eye. Since I had planned on seeing the show anyway, it seemed easy to go on opening night and do the damned red carpet. As I waited my turn to saunter for the cameras, I observed my surroundings.

Unfortunately, Kraven the Hunter was holding the latest exhibition of animals he had captured alive in the theater next door. The man himself was standing outside the ornate doors of his venue, wearing his usual animal hides and assorted weapons scattered around his person. I happened to know this wasn't the original Kraven, but his illegitimate son, Alyosha Kravinoff, a mutant with enhanced speed, senses, a healing factor, and my personal favorite of mine, the ability to communicate with and control animals. I had been a bit jealous of that when I read his S.H.I.E.L.D. file.

But now he was flesh and blood in front of me, not a picture clipped to a file, and as I looked over at him, he caught my gaze with his own and held it. I felt a shiver crawl its way down my spine, and knew with certainty that the grin spreading across his face was the same smile he had when he had a particularly impressive animal in the crosshairs of his riffle. He abandoned his post at the door, and strode over to tower over me. He was very tall, at least 6 foot 6 inches, making him about 18 inches taller than myself – my 5-inch stiletto heels hardly made up the difference.

"I am Kraven zee Hunter," he growled at me. His voice was heavily accented, and so low I could almost feel it rumble in my chest. I smiled politely, and disinterestedly.

"Oh, hello, my name is Aleisha West-Warthington. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He proffered his meaty hand, and I shook it, breaking contact as soon as I could. I noted the similarities in our skin colorings – his was a deep tan, while I come by my cocoa skin more naturally. He continued to stare directly into my eyes.

"I know who you are."

"Ah, yes, being a captain of industry and a genius scientist does mean most people have heard of me before I them. Its nearly a shame." I waved my hand airily with my words.

"I see you came alone. It truly is a shame for a beautiful woman like you, to be without an escort for a night on zee town." I narrowed my eyes at him.

" I haven't much free time for relationships, unfortunately. I was lucky to get away tonight long enough to see the show."

"Come to dinner with me." It was an order, and it made me bristle – internally, of course. Anything else with the press four feet away from us would be very, very stupid. Instead, I lowered my eyes from his gaze for the first time since he'd caught it and made a soft noise of disagreement.

"I'm looking forward to the show, and you've your own to attend to." I protested softly.

"Then drinks after" he was pushing hard.

"I'm headed back to the lab straight after closing curtain." My voice got a little firmer. I wished he'd drop it, but it was becoming clear I'd caught entirely too much of his attention. His hand flashed up faster than I could step back in my ridiculous heels and grabbed my right bicep. Hard. He bared his teeth in a sick imitation of a smile, meant only to intimidate me. He dropped his head closer to mine, as though he was about to whisper a secret to me, and growled,

"Take zee night off." His breath was foul, almost rancid.

"No." I was through playing demure, through with him trying his caveman tactics on me, and thoroughly done with this conversation. I wrenched my arm from his gasp, covered the angry red finger marks with my shawl, and deftly stepped in front of a lovely, airheaded starlet who was about to walk in front of the cameras. Smiling broadly, I raised my left hand to the paparazzi and greeted the lovely people who were lingering on the carpet, eager to be seen with someone more famous and powerful than they. I never once looked back at him, but I could feel that he was still standing where I'd left him, glaring daggers into my back.

Leaving the show and intermission was disappointing, but I knew Kravinoff would be waiting for me if I stayed until the closing curtain. I didn't want to find out how much more forceful he could be about dinner, and the distraction was interfering with my enjoyment of the show. As I ducked into my waiting limo, a young man pointed, and another one pulled out a phone. When we'd turned the next corner, the two of them were furiously sprinting after us. I calmly pointed this out to my driver, who took appropriate evasive measures, which had me sliding around in my seat, clutching at my seatbelt. I decided against going back to the lab, and instead my driver took me to my penthouse. I tersely told him to keep the car running and quickly strode through the lobby. I wasn't too quick for the doorman though, who shouted,

"Ya gots a message Mizz Aleisha!" I grimaced, but changed course to go to desk.

"I'm so sorry miss, I've spoken to him about shouting like that…" The concierge was honestly wringing his hands, looking nervous and pale, as though I would lash out at him. I sighed, and simply held out my hand. He dropped the note into my palm, careful to avoid touching me. I stepped away from the desk and shot over my shoulder,

"You yell at him again and I'll have you canned. I had him hired myself."

And I had. The boy, Benny, had Downs Syndrome. I'd met him at one the hundreds of benefits I have to attend every year, and he'd made it a magical night. We ended up staying late in the ballroom, talking about everything under the sun while the caterer cleaned around us, including his struggles finding and keeping employment. I'd taken him to a residents council meeting in the building the next night and introduced him as our new doorman. No one had dared to object, and he'd been a wonderful addition to the staff, finding ways to brighten everyone's days. He was known to bring flowers for me, speak sternly to teenagers picking up their dates, and always had a big bunch of balloons and a song for anyone celebrating birthdays. If he wasn't the most conventional doorman, then, well, any objectors could suck it.

I punched the button for the elevator, jingling my keys while I waited for it to descend. I didn't read the note yet. When the door finally dinged, I stepped into the elevator and put my key into the panel, grateful none of my neighbors had jumped on after me. The doors swooped closed and I brought my shawl closer around me. Alone, I stepped out of my shoes and swooped down to pick them both up in one hand. Soon enough, there was another ding, and the doors opened to reveal my penthouse apartment.

I dropped my keys in the bowl next to the door and checked the security panel above it for anything out of the ordinary. I moved straight to my bedroom, passing the sunken, spacious living room, which opened up onto my expansive balcony and swimming pool. I snatched an apple from the counter in my giant, state of the art kitchen. When I finally pushed open the giant wooden door to my bedroom, I tossed my shoes onto the floor of my closet, whipped the shawl over my armchair and opened the note.

All it held was a drawing of crosshairs.

I lifted my hand to my nose, pinching the bridge hard. The lunatic meant to hunt me. He could probably do it well, too, considering his impressive mutant powers. As I bit into my apple, I carefully considered my options. I did have many, many friends I could go to for help with this but I felt… driven to handle it myself. I could easily handle this without Tony or Nick's help.

Mind made up, I called down to my driver, and told him to take off. I wasn't going to be leaving as soon as I had thought. He wished me a good night, and I bade him a fond farewell. After tossing my apple core into the wastebasket, I turned to my closet and pulled down my backpacking pack. Methodically, ticking off items on my mental checklist, I packed it with the clothing essentials for a week in the wilderness. Then I stripped off my dress, and underthings. I had a gun strapped to my thigh, which I removed along with the holster but kept close at hand as I stepped into my shower. I set it on a recessed shelf, out of the way of the spray. Knowing this could be my last shower for a very long time, I indulged myself, scrubbing my scalp as clean as I could get it, and using my most luxuriant soaps. Finally buffed, polished, and scrubbed as I could possibly get, I shut off the water and picked the gun up as I stepped out.

I set it on the sink counter and rubbed myself dry, careful to be quick about it. I checked the security panel beside the door to reassure myself he hadn't broken into my home while I'd been giving myself the spa treatment. Given the all clear, I picked up the gun again and stepped out into my room, leaving it dangling by my side, finger along the barrel instead of on the trigger. I crossed to an ornate cabinet next to my bed, picking up fresh underwear on the way (some no nonsense bikinis and a sturdy plain bra), and punched the combination into the keypad hidden in its side with my free hand. With a hiss, the whole front of it popped open, revealing that the column of drawers down its front were merely a façade.

I stepped back to swing it wider open. Along the door opening towards me hung holsters, meant to fit from ankle up to wrist and chest. I set my gun on the shelf it belonged on, tugged on the underwear, and started putting on holsters. A small gun for my ankle, another gun and a knife on the opposite thigh, another gun and knife on either side of my chest, and a knife along each of my forearms. Satisfied with the arsenal I had – for now – I turned back to my closet and pulled out a pair of black cargo pants and a long sleeve black shirt. I tugged the pants on and paused, before crossing back to the cabinet and grabbing another gun to stuff into my waistband. A girl can never have too many accessories, you know. I tugged the shirt on over my head and smoothed it over the gun in the waistband. I preened in the mirror for a minute, making sure nothing showed through the clothes, before I drew my hair back into a ponytail.

I grabbed my pack and headed out to the kitchen. I put in as much food as I dared, and then looked at the clock. It was 2 am. I heated up a microwave dinner for myself, and ate it quickly. I called down to the front desk and asked that my car be brought up. I was ready to start this hunt, ready to move it to the territory of my choosing and ready to grind this man into the ground beneath my heel.

The late night doorman swung the door open for me, and I felt regret, for a moment, that I wasn't going to be able to tell Benny goodbye in person. I asked him to tell Benny that I wouldn't be back for a while, when they saw each other at shift change. He nodded and tipped his hat at me.

I stood on the steps for a moment, swinging my bag back and forth, and breathing in the New York nightlife all around me. I felt Kraven's eyes on me, and refused to look at him until my car roared up next to the curb. I have a Lamborghini that Tony and I have tweaked and, well, gutted and rebuilt, to the point that the only thing that had come from the factory was the shell. It was a gorgeous shell though, made my ride look like sex on wheels. I love my car more than some people love their first-born children.

The door swung up and open and I tossed my bag onto the passenger seat. I put both hands on the roof (I'll admit it, I was posing) and looked right into Kraven's eyes. He looked surprised for a moment that I had spotted him, before that same nasty grin lit up his face. I nodded once, and then dropped into the drivers seat.

While I adjusted the seatbelt, G.A.I.L.'s voice smoothly rung into the interior as my door swung itself closed. G.A.I.L. is my personal computer system, a little like Tony's Jarvis. She's my Girly Artificial Intelligence in the Lamborghini.

"How may I help you this evening, Aleisha?"

"Take me out of the city, headed north on the 87. I'll take over when we're out of the city traffic."

"Of course, Miss Aleisha"

I rested my head back on the headrest, grateful for the tinted windows that would hide my nap from other drivers. I closed my eyes and drifted off, resting my hands on the wheel as my car guided me safely through the manic traffic.

G.A.I.L. woke me up a few times, to roll down the window and pay tolls, but I got enough rest to feel alert when we reached the open road. I love driving on the open road, and due to the lateness of the hour, there were hardly any other cars on the road as I blew down the pavement at incredible speeds. I dictated a few messages to G.A.I.L., telling people I was taking a surprise vacation, and not to contact me before I got in contact with them. I left explicit directions for both the lab and the executives on how not to blow up New York or implode the company's finances before I got back.

I left a message for Tony, too, to be listened to in the event that I hadn't returned in a week and a half. It included where I was going, and why, and the details of how I wanted him to merge our two companies, in the event of my death. I made sure G.A.I.L. encoded it very carefully, so that it couldn't be read before my week and a half were up. I hadn't experienced this kind of a rush in too long. The rush came from the satisfaction of relying on my own wits and strength, and I didn't want it to end too soon.

It's supposed to take 5 and half hours to get to Lake Placid, but I made it in 4. G.A.I.L. popped the door up, and I stepped out with my gun in a two handed hold, in front of my body. I hadn't really expected Kraven to reach the cabin before me, but you can never be too careful. After I swept the area, and felt somewhat reassured that I was in the clear, I freed one hand from the hold on my gun and grabbed my pack with the other. I set G.A.I.L.'s defense systems (more than a simple alarm, though she was equipped with a whistle so loud it would blow out the eardrums of anyone unfortunate enough to touch her) and trudged up to my small log cabin.

I put the pack down next to the door, ready to be grabbed on the way out, and walked through the two-room cabin very quickly. The front room was a kitchen/dining room/living room combo, and I grabbed a small, square inch radio that could pick up on police – and other governmental agencies – frequencies off the kitchen table on my way to the bedroom. I stuffed it into one of my many pockets, and kicked open the bedroom door. My gun went in first, followed by the rest of my body, sweeping left to right. The bed frame went all the way to the floor in one solid oak piece, and was pressed against the wall with the footboard facing the door, so I knew I didn't have to look under it for my new boogeyman, but I did make sure to check behind the armchair. After I knew it was clear, I did the same for the miniscule bathroom.

With that done, I started a fire in the little wood stove I kept in the corner of the room. Next I relaxed back onto the bed, turned on my little radio to listen to the highway patrol, and kept my ears strained for noises coming from the outside. It was springtime, but an unexpected freeze had snuck up on this little community, and the air had a chill to it that kept me awake and aware.

It took him less time than I had hoped, but I heard over the radio that there was a Land Rover speeding towards my cozy little hideout, driven by a tall, barrel chested man with reckless abandon. Kraven was letting himself get very excited about this hunt – I knew I could use that against him.

That was my cue to bug out. I pulled black, warm fingerless gloves I'd found in my chest of drawers over my hands, pulled my pack up high on my back and locked my little cabin up tight – after preparing a few surprises for Kraven, courtesy of some broken light bulbs, gunpowder, and bolts and nails. I set off at a fast pace, choosing to put miles between us rather than try to throw him off my path. I knew that a fresh snowfall that night would confuse his keen tracking senses and buy me the upper hand the next day.

I wasn't able to hike so far away that I couldn't see the puff of smoke that drifted over the trees from my cabin, and it was with a lighter heart and a smile on my face that I began the climb a cliff face that I knew held a cave I could sleep in that night. Hauling myself over the lip that marked the floor of the cave that would shelter me that night, I shivered. I knew I couldn't start a fire, which I regretted as my bare fingertips hit the cold ground. I could feel the cold seeping in through my clothes to my knees, too as I dragged the rest of my body up and over.

I unrolled my sleeping bag by the front of the cave and crawled in quickly after I kicked off my boots. Kraven was probably still down by the cabin, waiting for his healing factor to kick in and correct the horrible burns he must have. I drifted off to sleep with the mental image of a scoreboard: Aleisha 1, Kraven 0