The night is dark, full of violence and mystery. The cycle of the moon rules all. I stand outside, gazing at this thing that controls me three days a month. Once upon a time I thought werecreatures and vampires were in fairy tales, alive only in books and in the imaginations of humans. Now, I hunt them for a living. My tiny fortune grows daily with every kill.

My name is Sarah Vargas, and I am a werewolf. But I wasn't always a Were. Five years ago a werewolf attacked me and tore my throat out. I was clinically dead, but by some "miracle" I survived. I knew something about me was different. I just didn't feel human anymore. That day my human side was killed. Although I am alive, I hardly feel like it. I have one goal: to pay back the Were that killed me.

But first, there is business to attend to.

I am in an alley in Boston, Massachusetts. Not a good place for a girl to be alone, especially at night. I cross my arms, letting my hands slide over the knife sheaths on my wrists. I'm starting to get impatient while I wait for my partner. I don't really know what his deal is. All I know is he has a vendetta quite like mine. I take a drag on my cigarette, impatience starting to get the better of me. As I exhale, he turns the corner, walking purposefully toward me.

Jared Fontaine is the epitome of a bad boy rocker. Numerous tattoos cover his arms. His eyebrow is pierced along with his lower lip. Today he wears black jeans tucked into his boots. A blue muscle tee shows off his perfect physique. A black leather duster hides his many blades and guns. His wavy brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail, exposing scars on the left side of his neck. He is heavy metal hot, and he knows it.

"Who does the BMC want us to kill today?" he asks. His thick British accent still makes my knees weak, even though we have worked together for the past six months.

The BMC, or the Blood Moon Corporation, is a group of bounty hunters and politicians. I joined them soon after I was turned into a Were. They consist of just about every type of supernatural creature, and even a few humans. According to rumors, the BMC was originally called the Blood Moon Guild. It is said that a vampire, Were, witch, and shifter formed it during the Black Plague. The Blood Moon Guild formed to try and keep the rouge Weres and vamps in line. Note the word "try." The founder of the Blood Moon Guild hired bounty hunters into their payroll once they realized their attempts weren't good enough. By 1928, the Blood Moon Guild dropped the title of Guild and added on the title of Corporation. It is much like a corporation now, with locations all over the world. We get assignments to kill. For the right price that is. Some of us have preferences. I don't like killing humans unless they are pure evil. I'm not sure if Jared has any stipulations about killing. I've never bothered to ask.

"Our assignment is to go Charleston, South Carolina and eliminate two vamps," I say. I don't bother with a greeting. It is straight to business with us.

"Do we have names?"

"Jackilin and Jerrikin Skyner."

"Aren't those the vamp twins? Didn't the BMC have a hit out on them before?"

I take another drag. "Yes, but they killed the last bounty hunters that crossed their paths. They want us to give it a go."

"Any reason?" Jared asks.

"Werecreature murders. A lot of them."

Jared smiles. He knows I don't like Weres "Why agree to this?"

I narrow my eyes. I hate to be reminded of my dislike for my own race. "The price is right."

Jared nods, his eyes showing that he really doesn't believe a word I say. I don't care. Jared's just my partner, and I don't give a shit about his opinions.

"When do we leave?"

"Within the hour. We're taking a red-eye flight out." I toss the still smoldering butt on the ground and turn to walk back toward my apartment. I feel Jared's eyes watching me as I walk. He reminds me of a hawk watching its prey. I feel like an insignificant mouse.

I'm so preoccupied with Jared that I almost miss it. The faintest scent of a wolf. Not just any wolf, but the one that attacked me. I stop dead in my tracks and sniff in the scent. It isn't much, but it's enough to tell me he's nearby. My breath catches in my throat. Am I really this close to my goal? My newest assignment surfaces in my mind. "Damn," I mutter. In a matter of hours, I'll leave this creature to ruin more innocent lives. I close my eyes, taking the scent to memory. I vow that when I return home, I'll find and kill him. He's lucky this time, but his luck is about to run out.

I stand in front of my apartment door, keys dangling in my hand. I close my eyes and send my wolf instincts to search my home. Not my literal wolf of course, just the essence of my Were self. I smell and taste the air. I listen. When I'm certain no one is inside, I unlock the door and let myself in.

My apartment is small; perfect for little bounty hunter me. The kitchen, living room, and dining room are all open. A one bed, one bath abode. My apartment looks like that of any other female in her late twenties lives here. Lavishly decorated and fully stocked with food. My bedroom, on the other hand, is anything but. Blades cover the walls. It is my workout room. My death room.

Chapter Two

Jared meets me at the airport. For a little over three hours we'll be stuck in an airplane with each other. I know I'll be teased for gripping the seats due to turbulence. Fun? Hardly. I really hate to fly.

I decide to carry my usual set of throwing blades: two boot sheaths and a sheath at the small of my back. I also have my beautiful katana with me. The blade itself is a mixture of silver and cold iron, as well as steel for durability. The pommel is a wooden spike, oak to be exact. Leather bindings give the handle a soft but firm grip. I love this thing like a mother loves her only child. Rose Mykal, the witch leader of the Blood Moon Corporation, gave it to me for my kill record. Every assignment I've been given I have finished. I've never backed down, and the katana is proof of that.

My carry on bag holds an assortment of stakes, holy water, and other miscellaneous weapons, including a Walter P22 with silver, lead, and wooden rounds. Jared gave it to me as a Christmas gift. I hate guns, but decided I might as well carry it. Just in case. I'm over armed to handle a couple of vamps, but one can never be too prepared. Just by glancing at Jared, I can tell he agrees.

Getting on board is no problem. Some BMC people work as airport security so we can board with all of our weaponry. Getting buckled up is no problem either. It's the bumpy take off that alerts Jared to my fear.

"Afraid?" he asks. His tone throws me off guard. He doesn't sound teasing. He sounds concerned.

"I just believe that if we were meant to fly, we'd have wings," I snap. The plane shakes and my hands resume their hold on the armrests. Jared's hand covers mine. I glance at him, but he looks out the window. As shocked as I am, I'm not about to shake it off or question him. This sudden show of affection is rather odd ... but sweet.

For the entire flight his hand stays on mine, massaging the back of my hand with his thumb whenever turbulence sets in.

The plane lands at Charleston International Airport and we retrieve our luggage. Charleston's skies pour down rain as if it will never stop. Dark clouds churn in the sky, sending bolts of lightning thundering down. I've only been to Charleston once before, and the weather was as inviting then as it is now. Just replace the torrents of rain with humidity and mosquitoes.

The Blood Moon Corporation set Jared and I up with a rental car and a place to stay. We'll meet some local Weres this evening. Jared retrieves the car and I stand out front with our luggage. Several minutes later, Jared drives up in a forest green Land Rover. We load it up, and then we're on our way downtown. According to our information the BMC has a house on East Battery Street, known to the locals as The Battery, to accommodate us. I look forward to staying there. The houses on The Battery are so beautiful. It's almost like another world in another time.

I-26 isn't all that busy this early in the morning. Everyone's still trying to climb out of bed and dress for the day. Jared drives and I gaze out the window, trying to ignore the rain. Traveling is my favorite part of this job.

The house we are staying in is called Haven. It is suppose to be a duplex, but the BMC bought the entire building for its own devices. I can't blame the Blood Moon Corporation for investing in it. It looks as though two separate people designed and built it. One half is circular, with large pillars creating a balcony that overlooks the waters of the Charleston Harbor. The other half is rectangular with large, welcoming windows. A family does live in it so the neighbors aren't suspicious of strange people going in and out at all hours. The family is paid to keep us well hidden behind these doors. The neighbors never know we are here.

A woman escorts Jared and me upstairs to our individual rooms. Her gray hair is up in a loose bun and her silver eyes won't meet ours. A feeling, deep inside, tells me she's a shifter. Probably a bird of some kind. Shifters are very solitary creatures. They don't fit in with the supernatural community. Shifters are outcasts, and seemingly happy to stay that way. I don't question her to see what type of bird she is. She won't even give us her name. Shifters are worth a lot of money. She'd be a fool to let us, bounty hunters, know what she is.

"Your rooms should meet Blood Moon's requirements," the woman says. Her voice is feather light and soft, almost like she is afraid of offending us. "Mr. Fontaine, I hope you don't mind, but I gave Ms. Vargas the room with the balcony. I trust that isn't a problem. If you need anything, just let me know."

The shifter turns and leaves without another word. Jared's room is across from mine, and he slips into the room without a word. All I want to do is sleep. I'm so tired and today is still a very busy day. I open the door to my room and walk inside. The room is so beautiful that I just stare for a moment or two. A four-poster bed in the corner is covered in red and black silk sheets. The walls are painted blood red to match. A black dresser is in the back corner by the window. I walk over to the window, setting my bags on the bed as I pass, and see that it opens onto the balcony.

The view is fantastic. The furthest corners of the sky are beginning to light up. It's going be day soon. It's hard to turn away from this sight, but I know I'm going to have to get some sleep. We still have to meet the local Weres. I sigh and enter back into the bedroom, locking the window, the door, and setting the alarm as I go. I don't bother unpacking my bags. We won't be here for long anyway.