Hunted Or Hunter?

Quinn was listening quietly to the plans the others were making as he tapped out a breakdown of the area on his tablet, planning his search route. His phone buzzed…probably Zasha letting him know they were home safe…he pulled out the phone and opened the text message…

“Son of a….”

He growled to himself, dialing one of his staff at the Marriott, and gave him specific instructions on what to bring to the club. He excused himself from the meeting and walked outside to wait for the delivery. He looked at the horizon, seeing how close dawn was….he could not help but laugh softly…

“They think they hunt….they are mistaken….”

He watched as the sedan rolled up, and his contact pulled a leather bag from the trunk, closing the lid and setting the bag on top. Quinn walked over, pulling out the outfit on top, and began changing clothes. These had not been worn in a while; it felt good to wear them again. The weight of the protective leather was a comfort, and helped him focus. He pulled out the arrow case and began to screw silver tips to each of them…

“Michael, I will not need the car today, but make sure there is one here tonight at sunset.”

The young man nodded his understanding, but knew better than to speak when Quinn was in this kind of mood. He watched as Quinn pulled the bow out, fastening the limbs in place and stringing it…then taking out each of the blades, sliding them in place in the outfit…he had never actually seen Mr. Quinn wearing it, and was a bit afraid of what it might mean…

Quinn dropped the quiver in place over his shoulder just as the sun crested the horizon, casting a shadow over the front of Fangtasia. He smiled, knowing he had all day to track them…it was time to have some fun…

He knew he needed to watch out for Bubba as well, but the musical vampire would have taken cover during the day, leaving him free to occupy his time in other ways...

He climbed an outcropping so he could see a good distance and plan his search...

He knew that he was probably being watched as well, so he did not bother with trying to hide what he was doing. He walked into the woods, moving swiftly into the denser areas that would provide him with a bit more cover. The oils that his clothes were rubbed with would mask his scent and make him harder to track, but he wanted to be found...on his terms...

He climbed to the walls of a ruined house and waited for his first target...

He smelled the man before he saw him...dressed way to fancy for a trek though the woods, probably his master's preference...

He simply waited until he saw the dagger in the fool's hands...did they not tell him who he was hunting? almost insulting...Quinn decided just to make this one fast, as he was sure there would be far more entertaining prey before they day was done...he simply waited until the young man was beneath him and dropped from above, blade in hand...

Quinn moved to a nearby creek bed and rinsed the idiot's blood off himself, then moved on...

Quinn shook his head as the scent of a larger group following him came to him on a breeze...had nobody ever taught them to stay upwind? He laughed and found himself a posting where he could see clearly. Smelled like about a half dozen were....wolves from the scent...and a few humans as well...

He waited for a good while before they finally entered his field of view. Perhaps the fate of the tracker had given them a reason to be careful...he hoped so...he saw the first of them step from the underbrush and walk into the clearing, and simply waited...

He watched as they entered the clearing. They had a net as well as blades, but only one had a gun. He shook his head and pulled the bow from his shoulder. Knocking an arrow, he watched carefully, keeping his breathing steady....

Finally the leader, the one with the rifle, came into clear view. From his place in concealment, Quinn stood, slowly drawing the string back, sighting down the shaft as he watched the man with the rifle...he released the arrow as he followed the man's movements, piercing his neck and leaving him to die with a wordless gurgle...



Quinn moved from his spot and scouted ahead for another vantage point...there were too many for hand to hand for right now...

Quinn leaned in the crook of a tree, watching them get closer.....that net was the main problem. He found it amusing that none of them had thought to pick up the rifle. Maybe they thought that made them safe...that was a mistake...he listened quietly as they got closer...



"I still say this is a mistake. You and your brothers barely made it away from the redhead, and now we are tracking the biggest guy in the group..."

"Can it Thomas....you heard what my friend said. His weight in cash, and all the V we want, all we have to do is either catch him or kill him. The guy doesn't even care which we do.."

"I am still nervous....did you see what he did to Devon? his head was half gone.....and that arrow shot......who the hell is this guy?"


"Apparently he was some big shot fighter years ago, but hasn't fought in years. He is probably afraid of us...that is why he is hiding..."

Quinn chuckled and dropped down to the underbrush, moving quietly ahead of them, leaving a trail a blind man could find. He made a mental note to take his time killing the one who had mentioned 'the redhead'...

Quinn led them on for several hours, leaving just enough trail for them to follow...he did not fire an arrow, but watched as the slow pace their fear gave them took it's toll. They were spreading further apart....

The human with the net was his next target, the one the were called "Thomas"....quiet...a sharp blade through the back and into the lungs, allowing only a whisper of sound...Quinn lowered him softly to the ground as he bled out, looking to the young man's eyes until they clouded...then he moved on...

Quinn moved quietly but quickly, circling wide so they would not hear his movement....

Once he found a good spot, he crouched down and rested, waiting for them...they did not seem to notice their friend had gone missing...

The clouds finally broke and it began raining steadily.Quinn grinned. perfect timing...

Quinn set the bow aside, and drew a long blade from it's sheath. As the remains of the group came into view, he dropped down in front of them, chuckling....

The falling rain gave the scene a surrealistic quality, as Quinn looked at each man, watching their stance and body language. He laughed again and spoke loud enough for all of them to hear...

"I have enjoyed the game, but the time for fun is over. All of you have this one chance to leave intact...except for you.."

Quinn pointed his blade at the Were who had been talking with Thomas earlier.

"Your choice. The rest of you can stay and bleed, or leave..."

One of the human's and three of the Were's turned and ran immediately...and Quinn let them run. He looked at the remaining Weres and could tell these were from one pack...oh this was going to be fun. Quinn reached behind him, drawing a small throwing dagger and cast it into the knee of the Were he had pointed to, removing him effectively from the fight and faced the others.

The were's immediately shifted to wolf form, making Quinn laugh as the ran toward him. He leaped over the first one and dropped his knees down on the second's back, listening to the delicious crack as the creature's spine snapped. He began to turn to find the other wolf when a knife slashed down toward him. The second were had shifted back and grabbed one of the knives while he was distracted...he felt the warm oozing feeling of blood coming down his arm and hissed at the pain...

Quinn swung his arm back, striking at his attacker, wincing as the movement pulled at his injured rib. He felt the impact against his arm, but the Were was able to grab his arm, pulling him back and shifting weight, throwing Quinn against a tree.

Quinn shook his head, feeling a bit off....he touched the cut on his arm, bringing his fingers to his nose, smelling the blood....damn...some sort of toxin...probably a sedative from the smell of it...

Quinn dropped to the ground, rolling to dodge a second slash and swung his leg out, catching the attacker just behind his knee, bringing him to the ground. He rolled over the man, forcing his knife under the man's ribs while he held the attacker's knife to the ground. He watched the man's eyes cloud over as his last breath escaped his lips.

Quinn shook his head again, trying to clear it...

Quinn cleaned out the cut as well as he could, binding it carefully...

He walked over to the survivor, chuckling....

The man had drug himself a few feet away, and passed out from the pain. Quinn's head was swimming from the toxin on the blades and the adrenaline in his system was moving the toxin through him quickly. He knew he had to act fast.

He moved to the bodies and stripped off belts, cording, even things in their pockets...anything that could be used for binding...

Quinn dragged the unconscious Were to a large tree and tied his ankles together as well as his wrists. He winced as he lifted the unconscious body a few feet from the ground and held him against the tree. He used the remaining belts to bind the man's wrists to his ankles around the tree. He gagged him and blindfolded him with scraps torn from the were's own clothing. Leaning close, he whispered..

"Little fool...you should hope for my health, because I doubt you would survive long if I do not."

He them carefully climbed the tree, finding a hidden notch in it and lowering himself there, to rest and let the toxin run it's course. He pulled out a small vial of general anti-venom from his belt and drank it, hoping it would help as he felt himself fading into the fog of dreamless sleep...

Quinn awoke to a scent he knew too well. Vampires...and close...downwind like the others had been. Looking at the sky, he guessed it was about an hour after sunset. The gash in his arm still hurt but his head was clear. He shifted his position so he could see the direction they were approaching from and listened....

"The tracker says they came this way, Caro."

"I can see that, Vella. I am the one who showed you how to use the damn thing."

"There are too many dead 'dogs' around here. I can't smell anything clearly."

"With all these bodies, I don't want to take chances. Let's wait for the others..."

"You might be right..."

Quinn cursed himself for resting so long as he watched six more vampires enter the clearing. They all looked to be young, but there were still a lot of them. He watched them carefully as they walked around, checking bodies.

"Ugh...what a stink...and I thought the live ones smelled bad..."

Quinn suppressed a chuckle at her comment...then he remembered the little package Vincent always made him carry. The now toy had not been tested, but it seemed like a good a chance as he was going to get.



He reached under his belt, pulling the small ball out and looked at it. Quinn watched and waited. He was only going to get once chance. He was in no shape to fight this many vampires...no matter how young they were.

He watched as they moved around, finally gathering together as they moved closer to where he was perched. He crouched low, hoping the smell of his blood would not betray him. One of the vampires saw his prisoner and called the others over, looking around carefully. He had to time this just right...the began to pull closer together....now was the moment.

Quinn pulled the key, throwing the ball to the ground near where they were gathered and leapt into the center of the group to draw their attention. His silver knives were doing damage, but he just needed a few seconds if this worked....

As the vampires circled around him, closing in, he heard the hum of the device and closed his eyes, just in case...and felt the heat of burning vampires as the UV charge went off....



Those few vampires that were not incinerated by the blast were badly burned and fled...he had to make certain to thank Vincent for his insistence and ingenuity...

He moved to check on his prisoner, seeing him stirring. The anger he felt at being betrayed by the toxin welled up and he struck the Were's temple with the but of his knife, knocking him out again. Quinn sighed and shouldered his prisoner, heading back toward Fangtasia.

He was not surprised that no other encounters had happened, and was secretly glad for it. He dumped his prisoner in the trunk of the waiting car, and climbed in, telling the driver to head for the house. He needed Vincent to look at his arm before he did any thing else....