Chapter One
Pinedale, Wyoming
Between October and November of 2013
Nothing but blackness, then split images and emotions begin to flood my dreams. Blood. Anger. A man in a red hoodie running down a road, looking behind as two others follow. Fear. Regret. Loss. A bright light flashing from the woods. I see it twice as the man limps out of the woods looking in both directions as he continues on his path. He is injured with slashes to his chest, holding his left shoulder with his right hand as blood pumps from it with each beat of his racing heart. Longing. Uncertainty. Tears. Then nothing but darkness.
I bolted out of my sleep sweating buckets and tangled in my sheets. I took my hand and put it to my head to smooth back my now sweat-drenched hair. "What the hell was that?" I said in a low whisper as I glanced around my room taking in my familiar surroundings. It had been a long time since I had had a dream like that. Shaking off the uneasiness I slowly got out of bed and went to the bathroom to shower and clean up before I went down to Luna's Café to hang out with my only true friend before the café opened.
There was always something I enjoyed about taking a shower, the water running down my body, like it was washing all of my problems away and how every time I got out I felt like a brand new person. Yet this morning when I got out and wrapped the towel around me I didn't feel new, I felt different. I walked over to my bathroom mirror and pressed my palm to the glass to wipe away the condensation that had built upon it. When I saw my eyes I knew why I felt out of sorts. They were changing color, in fact, changing to every color on the fucking color wheel. I hated it when this happened. I knew I was unique and that my gift was one of a kind, at least according to the hunter that had saved me and found out what I could do. But could I have at least gotten a manual or something, I mean at least most supernatural beings knew what they were and how to control their gifts. I on the other hand had the good fortune of learning how to cope all on my own.
As my eyes settled to their normal greyish blue I took a glance at my tattoos, always enjoying the way they made me feel. I had a possession tattoo on my back left shoulder. Decided to get the damn mark tattooed on me because I kept losing my damn amulets and I knew if a demon were to get their hands on me the world would be in for it. Down my spine I had the phases of the moon, a protection spell in Latin on my left ribs, and a spell to keep me hidden on my right. It was funny trying to come up with a stupid expression to tell the tattoo artist what it meant, because telling him the truth would have just been ridiculous. But I was glad to have them, they had kept me out of danger and with the world getting stranger every year, I needed all the help I could get. Lastly my eyes glanced down to the unusual scar I had on my lower back I had since I could remember. It was faint red and always seemed to ache when I was on a hunt or when I was close to a creature.
I came out of my bathroom only to be overwhelmed with a sense of danger and pain. I collapsed to the ground holding the sides of my head and as I closed my eyes I saw that man again. This time he only looked to be in a more weakened state. I could feel all of his wounds, his pain, his loss, but most of all his fear. Then it was gone and I was throwing up from the overwhelming emotions. "Who the hell is this guy? I have never experienced this before, hell the last time I had a dream it was right before my family was killed," I muttered to myself as I picked up the phone to call the only person I could trust with this problem. As I scrolled through my contacts to his name I stopped, only to shut the phone. He was dead and I knew that, but still he had saved me and taught me how to control myself. Sometimes it was just too hard to handle my ever changing abilities without his guidance. But hey maybe this was just my abilities getting stronger, like I needed that.
Hell the damn bastard had never wanted me to go into hunting in the first place. Said that he had lost too much and that I was so young and had so many choices as to what I wanted to do with my life. But we both soon realized that my unique gift was a beacon for all things supernatural and that it would be irresponsible of him to not teach me the ropes. He soon realized that I was an incredible hunter and even became a father figure to me after I lost my family, taking me in and helping me figure out what was going on. But that was almost 9 years ago and now I was living on my own, going on hunts, and helping other hunters as much as I could.
I dropped the towel and quickly cleaned up the vomit and threw it in the wash to be done later. I looked at my clock on my nightstand reading it at 6 a.m. and grabbed the only clean clothes I could find. It just so happened to be my coveted AC/DC shirt that I had been lucky enough to find tucked away at a thrift store downtown and a nice fitting pair of blue jeans. I slipped on my black boots, threw on the face make-up and ran a brush threw my still wet and messy hair. I grabbed an apple from the kitchen along with my bag of research and computer as I ran out the door at just around 6:15 a.m. As I locked the door behind me I couldn't help but worry what waited for me today. That man was connected to me somehow and I knew that my life was about to become a lot more complicated.
As I made my way down the hall to the stairs to exit my apartment building I saw Mrs. Lynn coming out of her office, dammit I thought I would beat her out the door but I guess luck was not on my side today.
"Hey there Kana, you know you are a week late on your rent. If I have to remind you again it's going to be with an eviction notice. I know that work has been slow of late, which is why I have given you extra time, but I can't give you special treatment," she said with such a fake smile and a slight cock of the head. God I hated this woman.
"I understand Mrs. Lynn. I am actually about to get paid later today and will have the money to you tomorrow. I can't really chat at the moment I am kind of in a hurry to meet with a client. Just like you said the P.I. business has been slow and I need to get all the cases I can get," I pushed past her and ran down the stairs to my car, breathing a sigh of relief as I grabbed a bottle of extra strength Tylenol. Not that it did much good for the monster headaches that come with the visions I occasionally get. But with the ones I had been having this morning it couldn't hurt.
My car was my one, if not only, prized possession for two reasons. The first, my father loved classic cars and growing up he taught me how to fix them up and then we would sell them. I remember how excited I would get when he would pull in with what looked like a scrap of heap and then around 6 months later a beautiful one of a kind muscle car would roll out of our garage and into its' new home. The other reason I loved her so much was the fact that she was a gift. A gift from a very dear friend who I had lost about two years ago. When I had gone to visit him at his house about three years ago I saw that he owned a lot of old cars in his salvage yard and what can I say, my curiosity was peaked.