Page 1 of Hunters and Prey

Blood From a Stone

May Sage

Chapter 1

The midnight motorcycle came to a halt at the bottom of a hill, stopping right before black gates guarded by a troll.

An actual troll—or the closest thing still roaming on Earth. Bill towered over the rider, almost twice as tall and with a head that looked like an overgrown pumpkin.

The woman wearing black and purple leather gear removed her helmet and smiled at the giant, one of the only people who didn't hate her on this hill.

"Hey, Billy boy."

"You're back." He stated the obvious with a grin that split his misshapen face in two. "It's been a while."

A year, to be exact.

Bill remembered the times when she went up that hill every day. She used to live in Adairford, the village at the base of Night Hill, hidden within the Oldcrest territory, a land that had belonged to supernatural creatures since the beginning of time. Viola had been told Oldcrest had been claimed by gods, in another age. She believed it. There were no wards made on Earth that could have hidden this valley quite so well. No one, sups or regulars, could see it unless they were invited.

But it had been a long time since Oldcrest had ceased to be home. Now, it was a duty. A duty everyone resented, her included.

For the last five centuries, she'd only stepped foot on this hill once a year.

"Missed you too, Bill." She winked at the troll, pulling a keychain out of her jacket. "Hey, look what I have for you!"

It was but a trinket, but the troll's eyes widened in delight.

"The Eiffel Tower!"

He always recognized the landmarks, although he'd learned everything he knew from books, at first, and the last few years, from the Internet.

Trolls, like many creatures, did not step foot in the regular world. It was one thing that the humans tolerated shifters, vampires, and other things that looked like them, but if the existence of things like Bill was discovered, they'd panic. Again.

When regulars panicked, blood spilled freely in the street. Viola wasn't, per se, against bloodsport, but a real open war between regulars and sups would have one outcome: the destruction of humanity.

It wouldn't do to lose her principal food source. Thankfully, most vampires agreed, and the rest of the sups did defer to her kind.

"You were in Paris?"

She nodded. "For a bit. I've moved to Vienna now, though."

She'd started traveling the world five hundred and seventeen years ago, remaining in the shadows for the better part of those years, but just under fifty years ago, sups had revealed their existence to the world. Now she could come out in the day and order a Bloody Mary with actual blood in it from a cocktail bar at the beach. Life was good.

Except once a year.

It wasn't like Viola had hated the days back when she lived here and served the family settle at the summit of Night Hill. She hadn't. The Eirikrson were her makers, her lieges, her clan. Serving them had been an honor, a duty she'd done with pride.

The problem was that coming back here reminded her of everything she'd lost. Everyone who'd died in the great black marble halls.

Her rental Suzuki flew up the hill with so much ease she wished she could buy one for herself, but she never stayed anywhere long enough to purchase anything permanent.

Going up the one road carved on the hill, Viola could feel eyes on her. Intense, searching, hateful gazes.

This day wasn't just a reminder of the old times for her; her presence also jogged the memory of the rest of the inhabitants of the hill. They hated her for it, with good reason.

When she remembered the Eirikrson, Viola felt useless. She remembered she'd failed them, that she hadn't been there to even try to protect them. The Eirikrson were a large clan, with a patriarch and over twelve families. There had been children, too. Very young children.

None had survived.

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