7.
It had been a long time since Katniss had used her tracking abilities to hunt something that wasn't a monster or another.
She told herself that, once she would have Peeta back and the Careers were all dust in the wind, she would grant herself a day to simply hunt in the woods. No monsters, no vampires… Just her, her bow and traditional game. No blood, no sweat, no pain.
She zipped her father's leather jacket up to her chin, regretting not having taken the time to slip on a sweater or something warmer than the old second hand tee-shirt she usually slept in. She hadn't felt the bite of the cold when they had been battling the huge dog outside in the street but she felt it now as she ducked under low branches and did her best to speed up without losing the trail.
It would have been difficult to lose though.
Even without the obvious damages the giant paws of the monster had inflicted to the forest ground, there were smears and fresh drops of blood everywhere.
At any moment she was expecting to come upon the scene of a slaughter or, at the very least, to find Peeta trying to fend off against the beast, but deeper and deeper into the woods the trail went. Over a ditch, across a clearing, right up to where the old mines used to be before they were swallowed by wilderness again…
The Seam was surrounded by woods.
When she was little, before her father died and she gave up fairy tales, she believed with all her heart the woods were alive.
She wasn't sure Peeta knew them as well as she did and, for a moment, she toyed with the idea of calling Gale because if there was another person out there who could move around the woods with their eyes closed… She dismissed the notion with the same uneasiness she had felt every time she had let herself think about Gale. She couldn't get over the fact he had been planning to somehow steal her powers. She couldn't get over the fact that every time he offered something she thought she wanted, be it a kiss or a love declaration, it was following a question about her abilities.
Peeta never questioned her abilities.
Peeta…
She jumped across another ditch, musing about what she would do to Peeta once she found him. Hit him, probably. Strangle him, maybe. What an idiot… Magic, really… Ever since they had met Effie, he had been all wild eyes about it like it was something so great, like it was just like those Harry Potter movies he was so crazy about…
She still didn't see the appeal.
She trusted her bow a hundred percent. She didn't trust the strange powers that seemed to fail Effie one time out of three or leave her in a coma.
The moment her boot touched the dry earth on the other side of the ditch she realized her mistake and dropped down, rolling to the right.
The vampire's arms closed on air… She remained crouched, swept at his ankles with her leg and stabbed him with her stake. The man turned to dust without even a word.
She stayed coiled in a crouch for a moment, waiting for her heart rate to calm down, cursing herself for being distracted. She should have felt the tingles at the back of her nape and recognized them for what they were. She should remain focused.
When it was clear there would be no more vampires, she stood up and looked for the trail again, thinking less about what she would do to Peeta and more about the upcoming fight. On the upside, she was less likely to accidentally get herself killed, on the downside, it meant she had no choice but to think about what the dog might have been doing to her friend.
She heard the scream after ten more minutes of walking.
It echoed as clear as if Peeta had been next to her but she knew it was an illusion, that sounds carried at night.
Still, she ran.
She ran like the devil was on her heels, the trail so obvious she didn't even bother really looking.
Her father had taught her to hunt.
Haymitch had taught her to kill.
She came at the beast from the flank in a jump, her right leg stretched straight out in front of her, the left folded under her body… She liked that move. It felt like flying. At least until the boot connected with the dog's side and she felt the aftershock from ankle to knee to hip…
That thing was made of muscles and bones and…
She barely heard Peeta's grunt of pain, barely remembered that she couldn't actually hurt the dog; she fell on the forest's ground and rolled on herself to get back up before the beast could get her. Her grey eyes assessed the situation in one sweep and she decided she didn't like their odds.
Peeta had crumpled against a tree, clutching his side – where she had hit the dog – and panting hard. He was sweaty, bloody and looked just panicked enough to be more of a hindrance than a help.
The beast was between them, a huge terrifying shadow in the darkness, with fangs and claws that reflected the moonlight. It was snarling at her, so obviously ready to leap and tear her throat out…
She wanted to reach for the bow on her back but thought better of it and pulled out the small knife hidden in her boot.
"Peeta, you're alright?" she asked, not taking her eyes away from the dog.
"You shouldn't have come after me." he whispered. "You shouldn't…"
She chanced a glance.
Was he feverish? He didn't look like he was in his right mind.
"Can you try to get around it and come to me?" she asked even though she already knew the answer to that.
As if it had perfectly understood her intentions, the dog barked and moved a little to the side so it was completely blocking the path to each other.
Katniss scowled.
"I'm getting him back one way or another." she warned.
What she needed was to buy Effie time to figure out how to vanish that thing. She needed time and Peeta safe and that meant the dog had to go down somehow.
She couldn't kill him.
It didn't mean she couldn't…
The dog's growl dropped another octave, as if he knew perfectly well what she was thinking and didn't like it one bit.
"He's mine." she growled right back. "And I'm getting him back. So back off, whatever you are."
She flexed her fingers on the hilt of her knife. It was a good knife. None of the engraved shit Effie kept, it was sturdy with a weathered leather grip made slightly rough by years of sweaty palms handling it. Haymitch had grumbled something about it having belonged to another of his Slayer when he had given it to her. She wasn't sure which one but whoever it was had clearly treasured the blade and Katniss had promised herself she would take good care of it. It was a good knife.
"Katniss, don't…" Peeta begged. "I don't want to… Just… Run away… I don't want to hurt you… I don't want…"
More nonsense.
Unfortunately, the dog took that as its cue to attack.
She dove under him when he leaped, finding herself next to Peeta. Up close, he didn't look any better than from afar, maybe even worse. She didn't let herself watch him too closely, she whirled around, ready for the next attack…
The dog had turned around and was snarling again but it didn't try to bite or flung itself at her throat.
And it finally dawned on her that its behavior was weird.
She didn't understand magic, not at all, but she understood animals. And whatever that dog was, it wasn't behaving like it should. It looked rabid. It had looked rabid from the first time she had caught sight of it through her bedroom's window – and maybe it had been the fact that Effie was standing on the edge of a gaping hole in her house with the beast clearly trying to get past her and back inside again, maybe she hadn't seen or looked further than the fact that the witch was in danger but…
It had been growling and using its claws in that street…
Except it was three times the size of any of them and if it had wanted them dead chances were they would be…
How had Peeta gone that far into the woods for that matter?
She knew he was strong and she knew he was capable but that dog looked like it could beat up a jaguar in a race…
She knew animals.
This wasn't an animal.
"What do you want?" she asked.
She made the mistake of looking at it in the eyes and, for a second, her breath caught in her throat.
His eyes were blue. Not just any blue. The same shade as Peeta's. Worse, she knew, she knew deep deep down, that those were human eyes. Peeta's eyes.
And the fur…
She couldn't say for sure in the woods' darkness but she thought the fur was the exact color of Peeta's hair and…
"Peeta, what the fuck did you do?" she whispered, not really expecting an answer.
The dog growled and Katniss tentatively lowered her knife a little, letting herself relax from her fighting stance, ready to react at the smallest sign of aggression. When it still didn't attack, she slowly reached down for Peeta's shoulder.
"Don't…" he said. "I don't… Stay away from me… I'm a monster… I'm…"
"Can you shut up for five minutes while I save your life?" she grumbled.
"I want to keep you safe…" Peeta muttered, his head rolling, his cheek falling on the back of her hand. He sounded completely out of it. "I want… You've got to get away from me… You've got…"
The dog moved so fast Katniss barely had time to react. She kept her hold on her knife, braced herself for the fall that still sucked the air out of her lungs and ended up with what felt like a truck pinning her to the ground. There was a root digging in her back and that would leave a bruise but, more concerning, there was also a huge powerful jaw full of fangs on either side of her throat.
The teeth grazed her skin but didn't rip it apart.
Time froze.
Peeta was whimpering and moaning in pain against his tree, clearly trying to reach her but failing…
Katniss didn't understand why the beast wasn't finishing her.
Or, rather, she was starting to understand a little too well.
"You won't hurt me." she forced herself to say, her voice far more certain than she felt. She couldn't betray any fear. The beast would sense it. "You would never hurt anyone."
Despite all the alarms in her head telling her she was being reckless and stupid and that she would be the first Slayer to die so stupidly, she placed her empty hand on the dog's front paw. Its fur was soft but thick and the muscles rippled under her hand.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the big jaw let go of her throat and she found herself looking into those eyes that didn't belong on that dog's head.
"You won't hurt me." she said again and, this time, it sounded as much a prayer as a statement.
A huge rough tongue licked the side of her face, leaving an indecent amount of slobber trickling down her cheek, her neck and the lapel of her jacket…
Then the beast moved back and sat down like any huge deadly dog with human eyes would do. Its tail was even wagging a little.
"Good boy." she said after a moment of hesitation.
It looked pleased.
At least until she tried to take another step toward Peeta and the boy completely freaked out. "No, no, no, no… You'll get hurt… You'll get hurt…"
The dog's fur bristled and the growling was menacing…
She wisely stopped where she stood. "Peeta, it's alright."
"No." He shook his head. "No, it's not…"
"Peeta, stop being an idiot." she snapped. "I'm going to come to you now and you're going to stop thinking I'll get hurt or I will get hurt."
She wasn't entirely sure how the whole thing was working, but she was pretty sure it was all connected to his fear. If she was right…
"No…" Peeta continued, shaking his head.
The dog stood up again and Katniss winced.
She didn't want to hurt it any more than she wanted to hurt Peeta but she also couldn't risk him losing control and unconsciously sending the beast at her.
"I'm sorry." she said to the dog as much as to the boy.
She had always been quick but her speed had enhanced since she had become the Slayer. She ran straight at the dog, skidded on her side under its belly, raised the knife… The dog howled when she dug the blade deep in the soft muscles of his inner thigh, sectioning sinew and who knew what else… That should prevent him from following them for a little while.
She didn't stop to think.
She rushed to Peeta while the beast collapsed in a chorus of betrayed whines and growls, tossed him over her shoulder and ran as fast as she could.
She was relatively certain the dog would follow once it managed to pick itself up and wouldn't go after any innocent people. She had to trust Haymitch could handle it if she was wrong and it turned tail and aimed for the town.
She headed straight for an old abandoned cave she had found once. It was next to a stream that she had to waddle knee deep in the water to cross. She was wet, angry at Peeta as much as at herself and exhausted when she finally dropped her friend in the relative shelter of the cave.
Peeta wasn't awake.
She was still concerned he had some kind of fever and then the amount of blood staining his pant leg caught her eyes and her heart stopped beating in her chest.
She had known the wound would transfer to him.
She hadn't known it would be this bad.
It looked as if she had almost sawed his leg off.
°O°O°O°O°
Peeta and the dog weren't anywhere near The Seam, that much became clear after Haymitch's second ride through town.
He had circled the bakery for a while and then the kid's house, half hoping his mother or his father would come out and complain about the noise because he was itching for a fight, but nothing happened. It was The Seam. People knew better than investigating strange noises in the dead of night.
He wouldn't find the boy in town.
With a muttered curse, he turned the bike around telling himself he would head back to the Village and follow the tracks from there. He wasn't as good a hunter as Katniss was but he could keep up with a trail.
The town center was mostly asleep except for the Cornucopia. The Seam's only nightclub was always a beacon in the night, it had been for as long as Haymitch could remember. He had spent so many nights in the club with Mabel either stalking vamps or dancing until their legs gave in… Youth. How foolish it was.
The parking lot was still full even though it was close to three a.m. and he spotted quite a few of his own students sharing cigarettes outside the club. It made him grate his teeth, ready to bet there were vamps inside already salivating at the prospect of an easy meal.
Another curse and he entered the parking lot, kicking off the bike and taking off the helmet to better scowl at the kids laughing outside. They were shocked to see him there because obviously old people shouldn't have been showing up at nightclubs in their minds. He remembered thinking that way too once.
He wasn't the kind of teacher who harassed students about their behavior, what they choose to put in their bodies, be it alcohol or tobacco, or how responsible they weren't being. Because of that he was deemed cool and he was quite popular.
The teenagers might have been surprised to see him but they weren't actually afraid of repercussions for being out so late on a school night. Not until he started shouting at them and threatening to call their parents.
He waited until they were back in their cars and well on their way home to shook his head and get inside the club itself. He was wasting time and it killed him not to know if Katniss and Peeta were alright but he also could not, in good conscience, not check the club to make sure it was vampire free before heading back.
He hadn't been back in the Cornucopia since his return to the Seam but nothing had changed much inside. It had been redecorated several times since his own teenage years but it still looked slightly shabby. Less than Ripper's bar obviously but…
He walked around the dance floor, gave a wide berth to the bar, too tempted by the prospect of a drink to steady his nerves, and headed straight for the metallic stairs at the back that would take him up to the first floor. Mostly, it was a clutter of small round tables occupied by couples on dates up there. More intimate. He scanned the place but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.
It wasn't the first time he envied a Slayer's abilities to sense vampires.
There were other things that gave them away and he had become an expert at figuring them out: old-fashioned clothes or haircuts were a dead giveaway – or at least it had been before vintage came back into fashion – the way they moved, the fact that they didn't need to breathe…
It was too dark and he couldn't spot anything alarming.
The only creepy thing on that floor was him staring at young couples.
With a sigh, he turned his back on them and walked to the metallic railing that gave on the ground floor. He surveyed the dance floor, let his eyes trail on the customers around the bar, spared a glare for the awful band playing on stage, gave a cursory look at the tables on the other side of the dance floor…
If the woman hadn't moved at that moment, he would have missed her.
She moved with a feral grace that was far too characteristic to be confused with anything else than a predator's beauty. Her skin was a tanned brown, she had long straight black hair that fell almost to her waist, she had pulled it up in a high ponytail that somehow shimmered under the strobe lights… He only understood why when he spotted the golden brooches. Old-fashioned for sure. More than old-fashion. Antiqued.
Like him, she was surveying the rest of the club but when he had been in a hurry, she was taking her time. Assessing.
Haymitch made his way down and to her, quick but not too fast. He didn't want to look too eager. He didn't want to give her time to decide she wanted one of the young boys shaking around the dance floor either.
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, sneaking up behind her.
She didn't tense or startle but he knew she would have heard his approach. Up close, she was even more stunning. Long dark eyelashes, dark eyes, crimson painted lips… The leather pants were well-worn and the white linen blouse she had on looked like they came straight out from Ancient Egypt but she made it work. He was pretty sure the large solid gold plate around her neck wasn't a replica either.
She was dangerously beautiful. He had always liked dangerous beautiful women. Chaff said he was beyond help on that front.
Her eyes roamed over him, did a double take…
It had been easier to play bait for vampires when he had been younger. They tended to go for young blood full of hormones.
She must have seen something in him though because she smiled.
"You can take me out of this dump." she granted. Granted. Not requested, not demanded but granted as if she was making a favor.
There was a small catch to the way she pronounced the words and he decided English wasn't her first language but she had been speaking it long enough that it was close.
For the first time, he reconsidered the wisdom of approaching her. He had been killing vamps since he was a kid and that had made him too cocky sometimes, too certain he could handle himself. He wasn't so sure now that he was right next to her.
She reminded him of Cashmere.
How old was she?
"You've got a name, beautiful?" he asked, leading her toward the back exit with a hand at the small of her back.
He sensed coiled muscles under his palm and made a mental inventory of the weapons he had on him. It was over quickly. He had left the house in a hurry. He had a stake wedged at his belt behind his back, right next to his hunting knife. He was pretty sure there was a small plastic bottle of holy water in his jacket pocket because he had never bothered taking it out in years… That was about it.
"Enobaria." she finally answered once they had crossed the back door's threshold and they were standing in the deserted alley behind the club. "But to you I will be mistress."
When she turned back toward him, her beautiful face had melted into ridges, golden eyes and fangs.
On the bright side, if he got out of this alive, he would be able to add a physical description to the Watchers journals…
On the down side, he didn't see how he would get out of this alive.
Now that's what I call being in trouuuble...