one

                The warmly lit room was welcoming to the eyes. The little girl was no older than two. She gazed around in wonderment, watching shadows flicker across the walls. There were candles placed everywhere, no one dared to turn the lights on and give away their position. Isla bustled around, attempting to keep herself busy to keep her mind off her worries. She was glancing towards the door, anxiously awaiting the arrival of her husband, Sam. He’d gone with some guards to steer a bounty of hunters away. They were in hiding, as was understandable for a new family of their status in the world of the supernatural. Considering that—as a daemon—they were high on the hit list for Hunters. Which meant hiding to protect their child was essential. They were also of what many would consider “royalty.” The two of them came from the two original supernatural families: Montague and Capulets. With all those factors, their lives were in need of much protection.

                After her millionth time glancing at the door, it opened and Sam came bounding in, a goofy grin spread across his face. “Hello, love.” He murmured into Isla’s hair as she flung herself at him, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Sam chuckled, nodding towards his comrades as they all made their way into the kitchen. “M’alright, La, don’t worry about me.” He leaned back, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “How are you? How’s our little girl?”

                “I’m fine, she’s fine, everything’s fine here.” Isla waved a hand in dismissal as she sniffed and turned back to their child. “Did you lead them far? You were gone a long time.”

                “Had to make sure there was no chance in them following us here. It’s okay, we took care of our tracks. We’re safe.” Sam wrapped his arms around Isla’s waist, kissing her cheek. “Everything will be okay. We’ll wait it out here until the City has cleansed of those Hunters, and then we can go home, how’s that sound?”

                Isla smiled, cradling their baby close to her as she turned to face her husband. “Silly man, you make it sound so easy.”

                “That’s because it is.” Sam chuckled, showering Isla in affection. He ignored her mumble of “Don’t get cocky” and pressed sweet kisses all over her face. He kissed the top of their daughter’s head before pulling away. “Let me check on the men. Order them to clean up their messes and all that.” He winked at Isla, before disappearing into the kitchen.

                Chuckling at his antics, Isla wandered down the hall that led to the nursery. She wasn’t a major fan of the small cottage hidden in the woods. Although, the nursery was decorated so nice that everything else had become just fine. With the help of being there for a few days.

                She’d just placed her child into the crib when she heard the first cry come from the kitchen area. There was a bang and more yells of surprise mixed with pain. Her heart raced as she began to step closer towards the door. She halted, though, because she knew she couldn’t help their friends now. The Hunters had found them, and from the sounds of struggle, they were outnumbered. She turned back to her little girl and scooped her up in her arms. She scrambled towards the window, grabbing a sweater that belonged to Sam on the way. She slipped out as fast as possible, wrapping her baby in the sweater to protect her from the cold night weather. She scurried into the protection of the woods, struggling to keep her breath steady and silent.

                Isla heard them. All around her. She was trapped. She knew it, they knew it.

                With one desperate attempt, Isla hid her child behind a large tree. She pressed a gentle yet shaky kiss on top the little girl’s head, whispering “I love you, sweetheart. I always will.” She wrapped her more into the sweater, tears welling up in her eyes. Her husband was dead, she knew that. Even with how strong and fast and clever he was, Sam couldn’t fight all the Hunters at once. Especially while also trying to protect the ones he cared about. He’d gone fighting, no doubt, but he’d gone nonetheless.

                Isla stumbled away from their child, consumed with grief. It took every bit of her strength to not look back. She had to keep their little girl hidden as long as she could. Maybe a supernatural would stop by and notice her, take her in, and protect her the way Isla couldn’t.

                The Hunters found her in no time. They executed her with flames the same way they had done to her husband. Her last thought was of her family and the hope that at least one of them would get out alive.

                The Hunters swept through the woods, searching for any sign of another supernatural that had escaped. It was a successful hunt this time. They’d been able to find the Royals and had taken them down in no time. It had all stuck with them how odd it was that the couple had not only separated. They had almost accepted their fate with little to no struggle on the Hunters’ part.

                The newest couple—the Xanthos—had joined the hunt. Despite it interrupting their time together with their new baby boy. The two had become rather iconic in the Community, and they had been the first to hear about the Hunters’ search and new findings. This hunt would steer them towards the correct position now.

                Jenny Xanthos had been wandering the woods closer to the house when she heard the faint cries. She followed the sound cautiously—daemons were notorious tricksters. She spotted a small bundle on the dirt floor, near a tree. She rushed over, scooping the little thing into her arms and glancing around. There had been no information about a child with the Royals, no one had known the child had existed outside of the supernaturals. The Hunters had never received information. The little girl cried and cried, squirming around as if searching for something.

                Jenny cuddled the girl close to her and trudged back over to where she had last seen her husband. David was kicking up rocks, moving branches, and attempting to find a trace of a track for anything. He became surprised to see his wife holding a baby.

                “Where did you—“

                “They just left her.” Jenny said, huffing in annoyance. “By a tree. If I hadn’t found her, the wolves would have.”

                “Jenn—no.” David shook his head, seeing the determined look in her eyes. “That’s a spawn of daemons. It would never be accepted—“

                “She would do just fine. No one has to know. We can say they kidnapped a human child. It’s not like they haven’t done that before.” Jenny glanced down at the little girl, who had stopped crying. “We could raise her to be a Hunter.” She cooed at the child, allowing herself to smile.

                She heard David mutter “I can’t believe this.” and she knew she’d won the argument already.

                The world revolved around Pax. Or at least, that’s just what she assumed. Considering her birth seemed to be the greatest thing to happen since the ending of the Great War. She was the best of her class—best of many generations before her too—and she only seemed to be improving. She saw no shame in admitting it: the Hunters’ needed her more than anyone else. I mean, you can’t deny her value when you’ve seen her single-handedly take down an Alpha werewolf with just a dagger. Albeit, the dagger is still stuck in the thing’s chest, but it ceased its existence nonetheless. Pax was proud of herself, prouder than anyone else was for sure. After success after success, she couldn’t help but walk around with her head held up high and a hop in her step. She had nothing to worry about, she was in her element. She didn’t want anything to change.

                Pax couldn’t find a flaw in her life.

                Smiling to herself, Pax sauntered down the hall of HQ, making her way towards the Leader’s office. He was going to give her the next assignment, so she’d come dressed in her gear already. She looked like any other Hunter. Black leather vest, black pants that were easy to move in, and a pair of combat boots that were black like everything else. She had her case of arrows strapped on her back, crossbow in hand, and an array of knives strapped to both her legs. Her long brown hair pulled back into a messy bun. They showed off her hazel eyes that held the usual concentrated and intimidating look. Everyone seemed to make a path for her, calling out greetings and wishes of luck—not that Pax needed it. She nodded to them. She couldn’t help but think these Hunter’s should be out doing their job. Instead they milled around looking at blueprints of Nests or whatever. She knew there were a few Nest that still needed documenting, found, or cleared. Pax just thought it was useless to spend time pouring over maps. They had the perfect opportunity to all go out. To just get rid of whatever supernatural creature it was that needed exterminating. Except they were wasting it.

                Pax barged right into Leader’s office, not even sparring a glance to the new recruits all standing in a line by his desk. She did notice the exasperated look he gave her. She flashed him an innocent smile before stopping in front of his desk.

                “I’m here for my new assignment.” She said, picking up the framed picture on his table and looking over it. There were four people in it. In the picture, there was the Leader, a beautiful woman with fair skin and blonde hair. Seated in front of them, a boy that was the spitting image of the Leader. Beside him was a little girl, with a bright smile and hair darker than anyone else’s.

                “I gave it to someone else.” Leader responded, plucking the photo out of her hands. “You just got back from one, go rest or train or something.”

                Pax’s eyes snapped up to glare at him. “I’m fine. I can handle it.”

                One of the recruits snorted, bowing his head in an attempt to not get found out. Pax glared at him until he physically shrunk away from her, shuffling his feet and looking anywhere but at her.

                Leader let out a heavy sigh. “Peyton—“

                “It’s Pax. Always has been, always will be.” She paused, then added, “Sir.”

                “I’m not giving you another assignment until I’m sure you’re okay. Did you even stop by the Medics today? You’re strong but you’re not invincible.” Leader frowned, clasping his hands together on the desk and stared at her.

                “I don’t need to go see a Medic, I’m fine. Just give me another assignment.” Pax had to concentrate on her tone of voice. She was getting annoyed and it took all her energy to not yell at that moment. She was fine. She’d gotten a few scratches from her most recent scuffle with a faerie, but they’d healed on the ride to HQ. And she’d been able to trap the faerie. Except everyone seemed too concerned for her that that little detail had been forgotten.

                “You were stabbed in the arm with a faerie’s arrow, there was poison on it. There’s no way you should be fine.” Leader replied, raising an eyebrow as if daring her to argue.

                Okay, so that had happened. She’d felt faint and dizzy for a few moments. She’d recovered in no time and was up on her feet before too many people could even notice something was wrong. She’d wrenched the stupid arrow out her arm and one of the Hunters with her had handed her a cloth to help with the bleeding. That had also lasted a few minutes. They’d bandaged her up, but she found the whole ordeal unnecessary.

                She wasn’t budging and Leader seemed to sense that after what he’d said. He let out another sigh—he did that a lot around her—and glanced towards the recruits. “Fine.” He muttered. “Fine, I’ll you give another assignment.” He gestured towards the recruits, already turning his focus on some papers on his desk. “Show them around, take them on a tour, train them. Do whatever you want with them, you’re in charge of the new recruits.” The triumphant smile was quickly wiped off her face.

                “What?”

                “You heard me. There’s your assignment. Get happy.”

                Pax spluttered out attempts at protest, but her mind couldn’t even grasp what he’d said, much less a response or complaint.

                “Dad!” she finally cried out, looking both horrified and irritated. “I’m not babysitting.”

                He dropped his pen back onto his desk, looking up at her exasperatedly. “Then wait until I decide you’re ready for another assignment. I’ll find someone else to do it. There are people that are ready for an assignment that would jump at the opportunity.” He’d hit a nerve and he knew it.

                Squaring her jaw and lifting her chin up defiantly, Pax glared at him for a moment before turning to the recruits. “Let’s go, brats, the tour starts now and stops for no one except myself.” She barked the order out in the same tone her father was always using with her during training. Each of the recruits shuffled out the office after, bidding farewell to Leader in mumbled voices.

                Pax stormed down the hall, recruits in tow, not sparing a glance to anyone passing by. She was beyond angry now, but she was more than willing to prove her dad wrong. She saw it in his expression, he didn’t think she could do it. He never thought she could do it.

                She’d prove him wrong. She’d continue to prove him wrong.

                She’d proved him right. She couldn’t do this.

                She’d thought taking the recruits out to a close by Vampire Nest and training them on the field would be a good idea. Clearly these recruits had had close to no former training, and were literally new to hunting anything. The place erupted into chaos as soon as the first kid shouted out that he had no idea what he was doing. The vampires were on them in seconds. It took a lot of Pax not to just end them all. These recruits got themselves in this mess by making all that ruckus. They had to learn to get themselves out of it.

                “We don’t even have any weapons!” a girl screamed as they huddled together, keeping their backs to each other and facing the vampires.

                Oh.

                Oops.

                Pax had been standing on the windowsill of the abandoned hotel the vampires called home. She jumped down, taking out three vampires on her way with little effort. As the only experienced one, she was the instant attraction for the creatures. She had to fight her way through a crowd to get to the recruits. She was welcomed with shouts of panic by said recruits, making her roll her eyes. They weren’t going to be able to actually fight the supernatural if this is how they were gonna act.

                Pax had to defend herself along with the six recruits behind her. Despite her ability to take on much more than what should be possible, the vampires were relentless. And angry. Too angry. Pax was fighting them off, holding them back at a good distance.  There were just more than she’d expected and they were dangerously outnumbered, even with her there.

                Then back-up came. 

                There were three or four Hunters chopping their way through the crowd of vampires, taking them out in multiples. Pax felt a wave of relief wash over. It was replaced with dread when she saw her brother leading the group, with her best friend right beside him. She was in trouble now.

                She almost wanted to just take on the horde of vampires all on her own.

                The weeded out crowd dispersed to safety a few moments after the arrival of the other Hunters. They could do the math. Experienced Hunters—as in plural—were much more dangerous. Even with the vampires’ animalistic tactics and inhumane strength.

                Pax’s brother, Vick, and their best friend, Declan, stormed over to her. They mirrored each other’s look of pure irritation.

                “You happy now?” Vick asked harshly as soon as he’d gotten close enough. “Did you meet your quota of near-death experiences for the week?”

                Pax huffed, glaring at her brother. “I don’t have a quota and I was handling it.”

                “Right.” Declan muttered, wiping off one of his knives and smirking at her. “Totally handling it.”

                Pax whipped around to glare at the recruits, who all shrank back from her gaze. “Would have been easier if these brats knew what they were doing.”

                A boy—the same one that had snorted earlier and then coward away from Pax—scoffed this time. “You can’t just throw us into battle without any training! That’s a death wish!”

                “Well then, you should have trained.” Pax snapped, storming away before he could respond. Vick and Declan fell into step behind her, chuckling to each other the way they always did when they knew Pax was about to get in major trouble.

                Since back-up had come, obviously her dad already knew about the little rendezvous. Pax assumed it would be best to go straight back to his office and get his lecture over with.

                Her dad looked at her, giving her the same disappointed look she got basically on a daily basis, and sighed. He started to say something, stopped himself, and shook his head at her. His lips pressed together in a thin line, and that unsatisfied look in his eyes bore into Pax’s. She was used to it all. Used to the looks, the sighing, the shake of the head. She’d taught herself how to look like she was interested in her father’s lectures, but it all went through one ear and out the other.

                This time, he didn’t give a lecture. Just told her he’d speak to her at home and dismissed her.

                “I didn’t hear any yelling and breaking of items.” Declan said as he joined Pax in the hallway. “What happened?”

                “Not much of anything. I think we’re gonna talk about it when we got home, or something.” Pax shrugged, jogging down the stairs to the Main Room to catch up with Declan’s long strides. “Slow down, beanstalk.”

                Declan laughed, slowing his pace and gazing at her adoringly. “Poor, poor tiny Pax. She can run with a pack of werewolves, but can’t keep up with someone taller than her.” She punched his shoulder, making him wince and stumble.

                “Come on, woman, that’s gonna leave a bruise!”

                At home, Pax was frantically looked over by her mother. She happened to be hysterical since Pax had stepped foot into their house. She constantly asked for reassurance that she was fine. Apparently, Vick had gone and told her about Pax’s adventure. Except he left out the fact that she could’ve handled the situation if she had had more time to think of a plan. Her mom wasn’t hearing it though. In fact, as soon as she’d declared that Pax was fine, she didn’t want to hear anything about the ordeal.

                “You’re father said you’ll talk once he gets home.” was the last thing she said before busying herself with making dinner and ordering the two siblings around.

                They did indeed talk once her dad got home. Or at least, her dad did.

                “Right, so no more assignments for you for a while. You can go ahead and report to the café tomorrow, you’ll be bussing tables until you can make up for all the damage you’ve caused.” Just as soon as Pax was about to ask what kind of damaged she’d supposedly caused, he went on. “We had to send out a group to rescue you lot, which gave the most recent pack of werewolves time to up and move. We’ve lost any track of them, because you decided to be daring.” He gave her one long stern look, shook his head, and went down the hall towards his office.

                Pax scowled, storming into her room, slamming the door behind her. It was times like this when she hated the power her father had over the Community. Of course he could pull some strings to get her trapped inside a stupid café.

                Fine, if that’s how it was going to be, then she’d show them daring.

                Sneaking out was far too easy. Especially when it wasn’t her first—or second—time. Her house was only one story, and her room happened to be in the far back, away from anyone. Sneaking around was a hobby for her.

                She wandered through the streets for a while, directing herself towards the Gates. The Community was closed off from the rest of civilization, so people had to go through the Gates to enter and exit. Declan was on duty today, along with an elderly Hunter by the name of Chuck. It was the late shift, which pretty much meant the lazy shift. It was far too easy to go through with hardly any questions, and with Declan there, it’d be even easier.

                “Hello, little miss.” He grinned, leaning out of the window to look at her better. “What are you doing up? It’s kind of late.”

                “I’m going on a walk. Couldn’t sleep.” Pax smiled, attempting to look as non-conspicuous as possible. “I’ll be back in an hour, no more. Promise.”

                “Aye, aye, captain.”

                Too easy. She slipped through the Gates once Declan had opened them and began jogging towards the City. People—humans—lived there peacefully oblivious to the dangers surrounding them. Lots of supernaturals attempted to blend in there, but Pax could spot them a mile away. She’d gotten a good distance when she realized she hadn’t even brought a knife with her. She’d been so focused on getting out that she hadn’t thought of coming prepared.

                So killing a supernatural was out the question without a weapon of some sorts, but she could still ruffle their feathers up a bit. All she had to do was find something.

                That took two minutes after the thought had occurred to find exactly what she was looking for. A group—she counted three—daemons were encircling a poor human man. They practically herded him out of plain sight. She couldn’t hear what they were saying but she knew enough about daemons to know that they were convincing. The power to compel people had that advantage.

                She watched on as each daemon—they were all guys, her age or maybe a bit older—took turns guiding the man into an alleyway. He shivered in fear, unable to escape from their intimidating aura. Pax would have helped, but she didn’t want to risk her vantage point just to save one man who was obviously doomed. She reckoned she could just avenge him when they finished with him.

                They’d slipped into the alleyway, each taking a turn sucking the soul out of the poor man. He who could do nothing but whimper for help as he stood stock still. Pax had seen it before, how daemons took souls from practically anything that had one. In her opinion, it was worse than a vampire feeding on blood. At least then, there was death at the end of it all. But daemons kept their victims alive, soulless. Just an empty shell of a person they once were.

                True monsters, that’s what she viewed them as. They took lives just like any other supernatural did, but they got away with it much more because they were far too much like smoke. There, but untouchable.

                When they’d finished with their little snack, the entourage began sauntering away. Just leaving the man there. Pax moved in, keeping a good distance between herself and the three of them, following them as they went.

                She didn’t notice someone following behind her. She didn’t notice their exceptional speed as they grew closer and closer.  She didn’t notice until it was too late when they wrapped a hand on top of her mouth and nose, holding her too close for her to get a good advantage. They used their other hand—which was a lot bigger than both of hers—and grabbed her wrists. which made her struggling pointless.

                And then her eyes were fluttering closed against her will, and Pax was losing consciousness.