The knock came again.
Soft.
Patient.
Not the frantic scratching of the creatures in the alley.
Not the calculated curiosity of the lieutenant.
This was something else.
Measured.
Controlled.
Human.
Amara tightened her grip on the blade.
"That's not one of yours," she whispered.
Verrès didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
He could hear it.
The heartbeat.
Steady.
Strong.
Human.
But wrong.
Too steady.
Too controlled.
Like someone who had trained their body not to betray them.
The voice came again, slipping beneath the door like a draft.
"…I know you're in there."
Amara mouthed, What do we do?
Verrès tilted his head slightly, listening beyond the voice.
More heartbeats.
Three.
No.
Five.
Spread out.
Not clustered.
Positioned.
Surrounding the building.
He looked back at Amara.
"We are not alone."
Her expression darkened.
"Hunters?"
"Likely."
Another knock.
This time a little firmer.
"We don't want trouble," the voice said calmly.
"That is a lie," Amara muttered.
Verrès stepped toward the front of the shop.
Amara grabbed his arm.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"That is a terrible plan."
"It is the fastest one."
She stared at him.
"…You've been alone too long."
"Probably."
He reached the door.
The smell of oil, leather, and something metallic drifted faintly through the wood.
Weapons.
Prepared.
Disciplined.
Verrès slid the bolt free.
Amara stepped back, blade raised.
The door opened.
Rain spilled in.
And with it—
a man.
Mid-thirties, perhaps.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dark coat, soaked through but worn like armor.
His eyes locked onto Verrès instantly.
Sharp.
Assessing.
Not afraid.
Behind him, half-hidden in the rain and shadows, stood others.
Four of them.
Spread out across the street exactly where Verrès had sensed them.
Not random.
Strategic.
The man's gaze flicked briefly to the blood on Verrès' coat.
Then to the faint smear of black along his sleeve.
Then back to his eyes.
"…You're not one of them," he said.
It wasn't relief.
It was calculation.
Amara stepped into view behind Verrès.
"Depends what you mean by 'them,'" she said.
The man's attention shifted to her.
His expression changed.
Just slightly.
Recognition.
Then tension.
"Well," he said, "that answers that."
Verrès watched him carefully.
"You're hunters."
The man gave a faint nod.
"And you're a problem."
Amara let out a short laugh.
"Funny. We were about to say the same thing."
One of the figures in the street shifted position.
A woman.
Short hair.
Crossbow already raised.
Not aimed yet.
But ready.
The man lifted a hand slightly.
She stilled.
Disciplined.
Verrès noted it.
"These creatures," the man said, "they came out of this building?"
"No," Verrès replied.
"They came out of the city."
The man's eyes narrowed.
"That's not how this works."
"It is now."
Rain hammered down harder.
The silence stretched.
Then the man spoke again.
"Name."
Verrès considered.
Then:
"Verrès."
The reaction was immediate.
Subtle.
But unmistakable.
The man's posture shifted.
Not fear.
Recognition.
"…I was hoping that was a rumor," he said quietly.
Amara glanced at Verrès.
"Oh, you're famous. That's fun."
Verrès ignored her.
"You know my name."
"We know a lot of names," the man said.
His gaze hardened.
"Most of them are dead."
A beat.
Then:
"You're not supposed to be alive."
Verrès met his stare.
"And yet."
The man exhaled slowly.
Rain ran down his face, but he didn't blink.
"Then this just became more complicated."
Amara crossed her arms.
"Or simpler. You walk away, we walk away, everyone pretends this never happened."
The man almost smiled.
"Not an option."
Behind him, one of the hunters shifted again.
This one carried something heavier.
A case.
Metal.
Locked.
Verrès' attention flicked to it briefly.
Then back.
"You came prepared," he said.
"We always are."
"For us?"
"For whatever's in this city."
Amara tilted her head.
"And what exactly do you think that is?"
The man didn't hesitate.
"The beginning of something we failed to stop."
The words settled heavily.
Verrès watched him more carefully now.
"You've seen this before."
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Not your concern."
"It is now."
The man's jaw tightened.
For a moment, it looked like he might refuse.
Then—
"Prague."
Amara went still.
Verrès noticed.
Interesting.
The man continued.
"Three months ago. We lost nine people clearing what we thought was a nest."
His gaze sharpened.
"It wasn't a nest."
Verrès nodded once.
"No."
"It was a laboratory."
Silence.
Rain.
Distant thunder.
Amara spoke softly.
"How many did you kill?"
The man's eyes flicked to her.
"Not enough."
A pause.
Then:
"And not the right one."
Verrès' voice dropped.
"You saw something else."
The man hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then:
"Yes."
Amara leaned slightly forward.
"What did it look like?"
The man's expression darkened.
"Like it was learning."
Another silence.
This one heavier.
Verrès exchanged a brief glance with Amara.
Confirmation.
The man noticed.
"You've seen one."
"Yes," Verrès said.
"Tonight."
That got their attention.
All of them.
The hunters shifted slightly.
Tension spiked.
"Where?" the man asked.
Verrès gestured toward Bourbon Street.
"It walked away."
The man stared at him.
"You let it go?"
"No," Verrès said calmly.
"It chose to leave."
That was worse.
The hunters understood that immediately.
The woman with the crossbow lowered it slightly.
"…That's new," she murmured.
"Yes," Verrès said.
"It is."
The man stepped closer.
Rain soaked the threshold between them.
"We need to work together."
Amara laughed.
"No, we don't."
His gaze snapped to her.
"You don't understand what this is."
"No," she said, "you don't understand what we are."
A beat.
Then Verrès spoke.
"She's right."
The man looked back at him.
"You'd rather fight us than stop this?"
"I would rather not be controlled by people who think they understand monsters."
"And you think you do?"
"Yes."
The answer came too quickly.
Too certain.
The man studied him.
Then nodded slightly.
"…Good."
That wasn't the response Amara expected.
She frowned.
"What?"
"If you understand them," the man said, "then you understand what happens next."
Verrès said nothing.
The man stepped closer still.
Close enough now that the rain no longer separated them.
"Whatever created those things," he said quietly,
"isn't testing anymore."
A pause.
Then:
"It's scaling."
The word hit differently.
Bigger.
Wider.
Faster.
Amara's expression shifted.
Just slightly.
Verrès noticed.
So did the man.
"You didn't know that," he said.
Amara didn't answer.
The man smiled faintly.
"Then we're all behind."
A low sound rolled through the street.
Not thunder.
Not quite.
Something deeper.
Verrès turned his head slowly.
The smell hit him first.
Rot.
Stronger than before.
Much stronger.
Behind the hunters—
in the darkness of the street—
something moved.
The woman with the crossbow reacted first.
"Contact."
All five hunters turned instantly.
Weapons raised.
Disciplined.
Fast.
Verrès stepped forward.
Amara beside him.
The air shifted.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
The same pressure from before.
But greater now.
From the shadows—
a figure emerged.
Tall.
Still.
Black eyes.
The lieutenant.
But different.
The way it moved—
sharper.
More precise.
More… complete.
It looked at Verrès.
Then at the hunters.
Then at Amara.
And smiled.
"…Better," it said.
The hunters froze.
One of them whispered,
"What the hell is that?"
Verrès' voice was quiet.
"Something that wasn't finished last time."
The creature tilted its head.
"…Now I am."
The street went silent.
And then—
it moved.
If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to add it to your library ❤️, drop a comment, Support with a Power Stone, and leave a rating ⭐ — it really helps the story grow. 🩸