Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own 'em. If I did, it wouldn't have been a kids show. heh.

Part Three

The track was obviously soggy from the previous night when Hunter pulled up in his truck. There weren't that many people out due to the wonderfully overcast skies. Hunter kept his sunglasses on anyway.

Dustin's bright yellow gear was nowhere to be seen, not that he really expected him to be awake this early, but it meant that he'd probably have to go to Storm Chargers later in the day if he wanted to see how the rogue rangers were faring. Still, he wasn't going to let the morning go to waste when the track was practically deserted.

Gearing up, he walked his bike to the unofficial starting point and waited for the few riders on the track to clear. As far as he could tell, there were only humans present. Not surprising, but part of him had been expecting some non-humans given Blue Bay Harbor's rampant night world population. At least he wasn't the only rider with a reflective visor on his helmet.

Seeing a long enough opening between motorists, he brought his bike to life with a twist of the handles and kicked off. This was his version of meditation, just himself and his bike and the need to focus on the slippery course in front of him. The outside world could be kept at bay as long as he had gas in the tank.

His mom hadn't wanted them to get into motocross, worried that they'd either hurt themselves or reveal their powers in an accident, but he and Blake had pleaded until their dad took pity on them and joined the cause. It took a few months, but their mom had finally conceded and they'd gotten their bikes for Yuletide.

That first time at the track, picking up speed with the rumble of his bike traveling up his arms and legs... It was like the first time he summoned lightning to his fingertips, humming and sparking and beautiful. That exhilaration, knowing that he could do this and do it well. Even as his riding skills improved, that thrill never went away.

He rode until his inhuman arms ached and the mud was flaking off despite the feeling of rain in the air. It had only been a few hours, but he hadn't really shaken off his morning grogginess.

It wasn't until he was stowing his gear in the truck that he felt a prickling along the back of his neck, a sixth sense he'd learned to trust over the years. Someone was watching him. Under the pretense of securing his bike again, he scanned the trees that surrounded the track.

A flash of movement in the periphery of his vision, across the field in an old oak. Just a streak of movement, like a small animal breaking for cover when it thinks the predator is looking the other way. Definitely not a ninja. Not lamia, either. Shapeshifter, probably. He scented the wind instinctively, knowing the person was too far away, the exhaust fumes too strong. That was probably what kept him from noticing them earlier.

Watanabe didn't have any shapeshifters in his circle. None that Hunter knew about, anyway. Maybe it was just a curious local, checking out the new arrivals.

Telling himself it was nothing to get worked up about, he couldn't help glancing in his rearview mirror on the way back to the hotel.

Blake was still sleeping when Hunter quietly let himself into the suite. There were streaks of mud all over his clothes even after he'd taken off his gear, so he headed for the bathroom in his stocking feet.

He paused in the doorway of the bedroom, watching the steady rise and fall of Blake's chest. His breathing and heart rate sounded normal, but Hunter didn't like how pale he was, bite marks now just a shadow along his neck. Unease crawled along Hunter's skin. If he was tired, Blake was probably exhausted and he still went out after they returned last night.

Why? Where had he gone? They'd never kept things from each other before, especially after their parents died.

Maybe he was being paranoid. Normally riding would help Hunter clear his head, kind of like his own brand of meditation. Only today, he hadn't been able to focus. He couldn't get past the thought that nothing felt right anymore.

After he left the track, he'd stopped by one of the local lamia hang outs, chatted with some guys he'd met at the Bloody Mary when they'd first hit town, and the feeling of wrongness had just intensified. No one knew anything about the night Blake was attacked. They said they didn't even remember Blake being there, which made Hunter even more suspicious. Were they hiding something?

Or was Blake? A person didn't get that strong of a perfume scent on them just by standing near someone, not the light way Tori wore it.

Something wasn't right.

Sighing, he slipped into the bedroom and dug around for clean clothes in his duffel bag. Part of him hoped the noise would wake his brother up, give him an excuse to talk to Blake. The more cowardly part wanted to avoid any more confrontations with the person closest to him.

Blake didn't stir, so he closed the bathroom door with relief. He didn't like doubting himself, and times like these, he wished he still had a full time job so that he would have any sort of distraction. He knew he had a tendency to brood when left to his own devices.

A long shower helped calm him down. He turned the water hot enough to badly scald human skin and barely noticed. It felt wonderful on his aching muscles. The bathroom was filled with steam when he finally stepped out, so he decided to get dressed in the bedroom.

Blake was up and moving about when he opened the bathroom door. The shorter Bradley stumbled past him, mumbling something about bladder control, but seemed more awake when he shouted, "I can barely see in here, bro!"

Hunter smirked. "You still gotta clean up any mess you make."

"Jerk!"

"Ha!"

He kicked his duffel bag and dirty clothes over into his corner, then went to forage in the fridge. The sound of the shower starting implied Blake was up for the rest of the day. And it was only early afternoon...

There were leftovers from the night before sitting cold in the fridge. A full carton of sweet and sour chicken. It made his stomach churn just to think about actually eating it.

His hand gravitated to the glass bottles.

So what if he hadn't had solid food in a day or so? Lothor said it was normal for his appetite to drop once his power started increasing from the blood. It just meant his body was rechanneling his energies in directions it never had before.

And he really couldn't stand the thought of putting cooked meat in his mouth.

The shower faucet was twisted off with a grind of plastic and metal, then the shower door slid open. Hunter grabbed the opened bottle of blood and decided to forego a cup this time. He took a few straight gulps before replacing the cork. Blake wandered out of the bedroom just as Hunter closed the fridge door.

"Hey," Blake said with a crooked grin. "Man, am I starving. You go riding this morning?"

"Yeah." Hunter watched as his brother shuffled into the kitchenette, studying his movements for any irregularities. Blake seemed fine. But then, they themselves knew plenty of spells that could go undetected while killing the target. It seemed a little too subtle for the rangers, but Hunter wouldn't put it past Watanabe. "You slept pretty late. Didn't even hear me come in. You still feeling drained?"

Rolling his eyes, Blake grabbed the leftover chicken carton from the fridge. "For the thousandth time, I'm fine, bro."

Hunter didn't pick up any of the usual tells when Blake was lying, so he relaxed against the counter.

"You didn't get in until dawn. What'd you get up to last night?"

He asked casually enough, but there it was– The minute shift of muscles, the increased heartbeat. The frown that was quickly muffled by a shrug and a laugh.

"Just ran into some people. Hung out a while." Blake threw up his hands, not meeting Hunter's eyes. "No back alleys, I swear!"

"Some people, huh?" This time his tone wasn't casual at all.

Blake looked directly at him, calm resolve in his features. "Yeah. Some people. It's no big deal."

His hands were curling into fists, so he crossed his arms roughly with a scowl. "I'm sure if you told her what you were doing before your little date, it'd be a very big deal."

"What the hell?" Blake glared. "Why do you automatically assume I'm with Tori?"

"Because you were. Or have you started wearing CK One without me knowing?"

Growling in frustration, Blake looked away.

"I'm with you all the way, all right? We're family." He finally said quietly. "But I still think there's something going on with her and the other rangers. I'm not giving up on her."

The blood was pooling in Hunter's stomach, hot and painful and bright. Maybe it was the shock of hearing that Blake cared that much about some girl he just met, maybe it was all the confusion and doubt he'd been carrying around the past few days. But he couldn't just sit around the suite any more.

"Fine." He snarled and pushed past Blake, grabbing his moto jacket.

"Where are you going?"

"Out cruising. What do you think?"

He didn't wait to hear Blake's reply, slamming the door behind him. He took the stairs and didn't slow down until he reached the street, where he stopped suddenly. People walked past him and around him, and he didn't know where he was going or where this anger came from.

After wandering aimlessly for an hour, Hunter found himself on the same block as Watanabe's dojo. He hadn't intended to come back, but now that he was here, he told himself he wanted answers, that he needed to figure out what was going on. But he stopped outside the large front window, ignoring his own reflection and stared in.

If his gut tightened when he first saw Cam, the other man smiling down at a young student, he dismissed it as tension and anger. The past three years had made it easier to ignore useless emotions like attraction. He had two purposes in his life: protect Blake, and seek justice for his parents' deaths. He had failed at the first one, but it wouldn't happen again. As for the second, well.

The dojo door made no noise as he entered. Taking up a casual stance by the office, he surveyed the room and stretched his senses towards the back as well. There was the student talking to Cam, and the adult standing off to the side, likely a parent. Otherwise, the place was empty. That meant Watanabe was probably down in the basement, behind the thicker wards.

Cam had seen him come in, but kept speaking with the kid, occasionally addressing a remark to the parent. But it wasn't long before he clapped the student on the shoulder, offering an encouraging grin and exchanging farewells. He waited until the two left, watching them but obviously aware of every move Hunter made.

The blonde smirked. Cam finally turned to face him, eyebrow raised, and motioned with his head for Hunter to enter the office. A moment later, Cam joined him and closed the door behind them. He managed to skirt around Hunter to the other side of the desk without making it look like he was keeping as much distance as possible between the lamia and himself. It made Hunter's smirk deepen.

"Hunter," Cam said simply. The elder Bradley nodded in return, then got down to business.

"Have you been able to find anything out?"

"Yes, unfortunately." Cam's expression was grim. "And it doesn't look good."

Leaning back against the wall, Hunter crossed his arms. "It never does."

"True. But I think you'll find this to be especially bad news." Taking a breath, Cam seemed honestly regretful. "I asked around about what happened. Nothing too overt, but I do have contacts, and what I heard..." Cam gazed directly into his eyes. "Blake was last seen at the club talking to two witches, sisters named Marah and Kapri. He talked to them for maybe an hour, then left by himself. I don't know exactly what they were talking about, but if he was hexed before he left the club, then they're likely suspects."

A muscle twitched in Hunter's jaw. This was all the info Cam could find? Of course Blake would chat with Lothor's ditzy nieces. If anything, Blake was too nice and the girls were too busy drooling over him.

But why didn't Blake mention seeing them at the club? Lothor hadn't mentioned them, either, and the man kept close tabs on the girls so he had to have known. And why would Blake go into that alley anyway?

More questions, and at least he could ask Lothor for answers. But he couldn't let Cam know that.

"And Tori didn't see any evidence of who attacked him?" He finally asked, trying not to sound too hostile or suspicious. Cam probably picked up on it anyway, from the way his eyebrows raised.

"No. She was headed for the club when she saw him in the alley. Whoever did it had already left." His tone was neutral enough, but had a hint of defensiveness in it. Hunter didn't know him well enough to tell if he was lying.

"Thanks for the lead, then," he said with a sudden grin. "I appreciate the help."

He pushed away from the wall, intending to leave, but Cam's voice stopped him.

"Hunter, wait."

He stilled, looking at Cam expectantly.

"Look," Cam took off his glasses, expression earnest. "I know you're determined to go through with this whole revenge thing, but these aren't people you want to get involved with."

Hunter snorted. "I think I can handle a few witches."

"Well these witches aren't ordinary," Cam said, tone sharp. "They work for a very nasty character named Lothor."

"So?"

"So, he's a powerful half-vampire that won't hesitate to have you killed if you try to stir up any trouble around his operations." Hunter must have looked skeptical, because Cam came around the desk. "Trust me on this, I know him, all right? And as much as you want to get back at whoever hurt Blake, I'm telling you now that if you draw more attention to yourselves, your brother may not be as lucky next time."

That made Hunter bristle, canine teeth elongating. "Any one comes near Blake, or even threatens him, nobody's gonna find all the pieces left."

Cam glared. "Which I'm sure is quite effective against street thugs, but this guy's on an entirely different level. He has connections and money, he has his own powers– vampire and warlock– and he has a dozen gangs of werewolves and vampires in his employ in a dozen different cities. And he doesn't just murder people, Hunter. He likes to play with them first."

"If he's so evil, how come I've never heard of him before?" Hunter demanded.

"Because he rarely does anything himself," Cam snapped back. "He sends his commands through other people, and he has a whole network of 'generals' that actively control his gangs. But he watches them closely, and keeps them on short leashes."

Hunter was quiet for a moment, letting it sink in. Either Cam was telling the truth, or he was trying to discourage Hunter from investigating Lothor and finding the real truth about the dojo and everything. If Cam was telling the truth, then that meant Hunter and Blake were being played, and Lothor was the one ultimately responsible for the attack on Blake.

Cam was watching him closely, and Hunter met his gaze defiantly. He couldn't help noticing the stress lines around Cam's mouth, though, or the darkness around his eyes that had only deepened in the past days. When he had spoken with Cam the first time, he thought he looked tired. Now, he realized Cam was exhausted.

And he hated the part of his mind that noted it would just make their plan all the easier.

Breaking eye contact, Hunter stepped to the door and paused with his hand on the handle.

"Thanks for the warning," he said, glancing at Cam one more time. He mustered a cocky grin. "But don't worry. We can take care of ourselves."

Cam looked like he wanted to protest more, but decided that he had said enough. Nodding at Hunter, he gave a weak smirk.

"Try not to get yourself killed then."

"No prob."

So Hunter left, before the tightness in his chest could make him doubt himself even more. He had wanted answers and now he only had more questions. The overcast sky had turned into a light drizzle, and he tucked his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched.

It was obvious that Cam thought Lothor was evil. Maybe Blake was right, and they had all been brainwashed by Watanabe. The man was a powerful warlock... It would explain why Shane thought Lothor's men were slavers, and why Tori was apparently normal and rational in civilian gear.

His cellphone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out with a glower. Normally Blake would let him brood after they had it out.

It was Lothor.

Hunter answered with a clipped, "Hello."

"Ah, Hunter. So glad I caught you." The southern twang was even thicker in Lothor's jovial voice. "Listen, I have some information you might find interesting."

"What kind of info?" Hunter asked, looking around for a someplace more secluded. The sidewalks had mostly cleared when the rain started, but you didn't talk business out in the open. He headed for a small park on his right.

"Well," Lothor lowered his voice as though sharing a confidence. "I just spoke with my nieces, and they mentioned seeing your brother with that female ranger– Tori, is it?– Again. So of course I asked them where else they'd seen them, and get this– The girls saw them together the night your brother was attacked. The little scamps hadn't thought to tell me before now because they were violating their curfew, but they were at the Bloody Mary then, and said Tori was– How did they put it?– 'Totally into' Blake. Quite a coincidence, don't you think?"

The sly tone made Hunter frown. "Quite."

"So of course I looked into the matter, just like I promised. I asked one of the bartenders if he remembered seeing Blake there, and he said he thought your brother spent almost an hour talking with a cute blonde girl before they left together."

"Funny, when I asked around, no one remembered anything," Hunter remarked casually, slowing down once he was in the trees of the park and trying not to be obvious about checking the place out.

"Well, you know how people can be when you get to a new town. It just takes them a while to warm up to new arrivals," Lothor said reassuringly. "Either that, or Watanabe has them too scared to talk. But I have good people working for me."

Thinking of how Zurgane had gone nuts on him, Hunter just offered a noncommittal grunt.

"Anyway," Lothor continued. "If what I've been told is true, and there's no reason to doubt it is, then it looks like the rogue rangers might have planned the whole thing."

"But why?" Hunter demanded. "If they knew who he was all this time, why not just kill him? It doesn't make sense to injure him and then heal him."

"To gain his trust, of course." Lothor sounded surprised. "If he thought of them as harmless, or if he happened to start to maybe like one of them, he wouldn't be as careful around them. They could find out more about his plans. Our plans. After all, the attack prompted you to visit Watanabe's son, correct? They've probably been gathering intelligence on you and Blake, just as you have on them."

It was with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Hunter stopped walking. The feeling of being watched at the track...

But Cam had been surprised to realize he was lamia. That couldn't have been faked. And the rangers had seemed genuinely confused by their presence at the warehouse. Maybe they were all just really good actors, or completely psychotic, or–

He had never told Lothor that he went to see Cam. He knew he had never mentioned it to the older man.

"I think we should step up ours plans, my boy," Lothor was saying in his ear. "Just to be on the safe side."

"Yeah, maybe." Hunter agreed, keeping his voice low. "What did you have in mind?"

"Why don't we move in tomorrow night? If they have data on you and Blake, maybe it would be best if some of my men did accompany you. For back-up, of course. I'd hate to have something happen to the two of you through my negligence."

Hunter concentrated on breathing steadily. "Yeah. As long as they don't interfere, that's fine."

"Excellent. I can't tell you how much it would reassure me. Until tomorrow night, then."

"Okay."

The line disconnected. Slowly, Hunter replaced his cellphone in his pocket and started walking, willing himself to relax.

He wasn't going to be attacked; he was just being watched. Followed. By their supposed ally.

Watanabe killed their parents, and now they were in the back pocket of a vampire-warlock that Hunter hadn't checked out as much as he should have before agreeing to go with him. It was a rookie mistake. Stupid, and he was endangering Blake's life when he wasn't even sure what information to trust. Who to trust.

And when in doubt, trust no one. Dodge any supposedly helpful adults and go with your gut. It was something he'd learned early in his life, and he shouldn't have forgotten it so easily.

Hunter stormed into the hotel room, tossing his jacket in the direction of the couch and ignoring Blake's yelp. Those building schematics were somewhere in his papers...

"Hey, that was my eye!" The younger Bradley jokingly protested, throwing the jacket at Hunter's desk.

"You'll survive," Hunter mumbled, busy quickly leafing through the folders in front of him.

Someone was lying to him. Plain and simple, and he didn't like it. He was tired of sitting around on his ass, being jerked around like a meat puppet. This wasn't what they came here to do.

So screw Lothor's plans. They'd get Watanabe on their own, like Hunter had intended from the beginning, and they'd get their justice. That was all he wanted.

"Woah, what's up?" Blake was standing on the other side of the desk. Hunter glanced up at him, pulling out the dojo's floor plan.

"Suit up. We move tonight." His voice was gravelly, furious. Not his own. Tensing, Blake stared at his mouth. Hunter didn't care if his fangs were showing at the moment.

"What?" Blake's attention snapped back to the papers between them. "I thought we were going to wait a few days?"

"Plans changed. Go get ready. And pack up."

Expression dropping to neutral, Blake shifted back on his heels. Hunter paused, looking at him.

"Well?" He demanded finally.

"You wanna clue me in here, or am I just tagging along for the ride?"

The hesitation before Hunter started speaking was more telling than his words. "We're getting Watanabe tonight and we're taking him to the Cave of Lost Spirits."

"What about Lothor–"

"We don't need him for this," Hunter growled. "We take Watanabe to the Cave ourselves, and we let the spirits judge him. Lothor can do whatever he wants to him after that, but we're through. As soon as the spirits make their decision, we split."

Blake held his tense position for three heartbeats before he abruptly headed towards the bedroom.

"Fine. I'll be right out."

Smoothing the wrinkled papers under his palms, Hunter nodded absently and traced the ward patterns with sharp fingernails. They knew how to get in. They could do this.

On their own.

And I have searched for the reason to go on
I've tried and I've tried
But it's taking me so long
I might be better off
Closing my eyes
"All of This Past" Sarah Bettens