Page 349 of Hunters and Prey

Chapter 3

“What are sentinels doing this far out?” the merc ringleader asked me.

I gave him an incredulous look. “How the heck would I know?”

They came into view. Seven ... no, eight of them—flat silver discs floating above us, lit up by a green strip of light across the rim which was the scanner part that collated data. Wait. Eight of them and eight of us, at least there had been before the big guy had shown up. My stomach turned, and I took a step back into the shadow of the nearest building.

“Anya? They’re just scouting,” Helgi pointed out, but she didn’t sound too sure.

Yeah, just scouting? Then why was my gut screaming at me to run? I took another step toward the building and ducked into the broken open doorway, bracing myself against the jagged, crumbling brick. The whole thing was a death trap ready to collapse, but right now, in here felt safer than out there.

“Helgi.” I waved her toward me.

Helgi’s brow furrowed, but she came. I pulled her into a crouch.

“What are you doing?” the merc asked. He was probably going for an amused, light tone, but his words came out too sharp to pass as unconcerned.

The redheaded guy just stood there, indifferent, almost as if he was waiting for something to happen. What was he waiting for? The sentinels finally reached the group, hovering overhead in a mass and then spreading out. One hung over Dunstan, three above the mercs, two above the twins, and one over the redhead. The eighth one hovered uncertainly. The green strip of light switched to red.

Red for danger.

My pulse thudded in my throat and one word tore from my mouth. “Run!”

The dark-haired merc with the scales locked gazes with me for a moment, horrific comprehension dawning on his face. His lips moved in a curse and then a red light swept over him. He threw back his head as his body convulsed, and then he fell to the ground. The others followed suit a moment later. Seven Skins on the ground. Unmoving. One sentinel split from the group, rising with its lights flashing red as it scanned the terrain.

It was searching for us.

“It won’t see us in here, right?” Helgi’s tone was tight.

“I don’t know. I don’t know enough about them.”

“Are they dead?”

It took me a second to realize she was talking about the Skins lying on the ground, and not the sentinels.

“No. I don’t think so. Why would they want to kill Skins?”

“Dunstan said sentinel activity had increased, and look what they’ve done.”

It made no sense. The sentinels had always been about watching, collecting information, and being a general nuisance. They were part of the terrain. Until now. The sentinels drifted closer, so close that if I’d jumped out of my hiding place, I’d have been directly under them. My breath stuck in my throat and my muscles screamed for action. I needed to run.

A low rumble lit the night. A beast come to devour us? No. Not a beast, the engine of some kind of vehicle.

Helgi and I traded shocked looks. There were very few vehicles in the Outlands. Skins traveled using mainly mules, horses, or sturdy walking boots. Juniper was one of a handful of motors around. Vehicles were tech, and not many could work tech, so vehicles usually meant Draco City.

The metal beast careened into view and came to a screeching halt on the other side of the street. They called them vans. I’d seen enough propaganda about Draco City to recognize the technology and creature comforts. The doors flew open and four males jumped out—tall, broad, and perfect.

Dragon Bloods.

Their clothes were dark, blending into the night, and their golden hair was covered with black woolen caps. Another van parked up, and more Dragon Bloods jumped out, but this time, a front door opened and a man stepped out of the passenger side. Unlike the others, his hair wasn’t covered. It flowed glorious and golden down his back, while his piercing blue eyes scanned the night.

“We’re missing two,” he snapped.

“We were promised eight Skins,” one of his minions said. “We have seven, so ...”

The golden-haired guy shot his subordinate a searing look saturated with disgust. “I can count, you fool. There were nine heat signatures on the data pad. It looks like we have an extra.” He pulled something from his pocket, some kind of device. “Fan out and search the perimeter. They couldn’t have gone far. Now, how do you get these damned sentinels to scan inside the buildings?”

The black-suited figures dispersed into the night, boots slapping against concrete in an ominous patter.

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