how to adopt a killer

[Mordechai]

Another infestation of fae spawn dealt with. The killer looked around the small bar in Westwall with a touch of irritation gracing his normally stoic countenance. Another hive of those misshapen demons that had moved into the wilds south of the city had popped up within the city limits. His eyes scanned over the few that had helped this time, to eradicate the threat to the humans and vampires alike, and for once was almost…. Almost thankful that some of the ancient enemies of his species had decided it was in the best interests of the city for them to help the vampires fight, rather than hunt the vampires. It seemed as though these creatures had been created specifically so that they could stand upto, fight, and defeat even the strongest of vampires. Even their weakest members, routinely thrashed those that normally helped to quell infestations within the city…. But their strongest, Mordechai slowly shook his head as his thoughts turned inwards, even with all his training and experience, they were almost too much. Yeah, he could get four or five of them, but they kept coming. Like cockroaches in the dark, they were an unending stream of nightmares. They wore him down like the waters of a small stream that eventually eroded away the hardest granite no matter how large it was at the beginning, the constant nibbling took a toll, and the rock lost the battle. His mind’s eye pictured the human that had fought up the stairs of the hive beside him, driving deeper into the filth and detritus that always accompanied them. The powers that human possessed… Mordechai silently shook his head and started towards the door. The secret was out, the masquerade had fallen, and he could only hope that there were not many humans like that one. Well that, and if there were, hopefully they were not opposed to coexisting with the shadows of the night. It was evident now, that the tide had turned in Harper Rock, and now the humans were the greatest danger, the strongest fighters, the apex predators.

Resting his hand on the door pull he let his mind blank from the last days of fighting. He had to get to the castle, had to check that Amaranthia had not once more been shot in his absence, and once more remind the Lionelli family of who was the true power in Gullsborough. Finally reaching an inner peace within himself the massive killer opened the door to the cold of the wintery eve, and ducked his head to step outside. Instinctively his eyes roved the areas around him, seeking every darkened shadow, every hidden rathole, and every elevated position that could offer cover to the enemy, be they human gangsters or demon spawned monsters. Old habits died hard, and the giant Sangue killer had spent too many nights either on his own, or with his titian haired partner Prudence, hiding from, or hunting down those that would end the existence of their species. Nothing showed in the surveil, nothing caught at his finely tuned preternatural senses, nothing tripped his hunter’s sixth sense. Moving on, Mordechai turned to the north, heading towards Thornside Park, once within the shadows of its trees and brush he would feel more at home, than wandering the streets filled with late night revelers, and the street scum that fed off them.

Within the sheltered confines of the small copse of trees Mordechai looked up towards the starlit sky and let the thoughts of freedom and the open air ride his mind as he leapt upwards his body shimmering as it transformed into a giant harpy eagle. The seven foot wingspan stroked downward hard, propelling the killer out of the trees and into the clear freedom of the sky. Circling once, the eagle turned east toward his usual haunts, when he felt a sharp impact in his side, milliseconds before the sharp crack of a high powered rifle split the silent night. Even as his wings folded, and shimmered once more as the illusion slipped away, his mind automatically cataloged the sound, and as darkness encased the consciousness of the seven and half foot three hundred forty pound killer now plummeting towards the earth, he knew it was a .270 Winchester that had struck him.