Moonscorn

Chapter Two

Senses over thought. Thought was in the back of the mind, tied up, dragged along behind the vehicle of flesh and fangs and fur that was Hysteria Scorn. She tore through the night, nose twitching with the scent, seeking, searching. Other flesh, other lycanthropes in the area. Male. Calling her. Ears flickering. The scent of saliva. Ready for meat. For ripping and rendering.

All this pure instinct. All of it just need. Pure hunger. Hunger. A vague sense that her caller, her suiter, should not kill. If killing was needed, she would kill. Not the male. The male not kill. Not now, anyway.

None of this in thought. Just running for now.

A puddle behind a shopfront down a small alleyway between two buildings, part splattered up against a wall. Strong, unmistakable smell of urine. Wind towards her. Follow me, it says. Follow me, says the wolf.

Ahead, a moving shadow.

Run. Run.

***

They chased her through the dark, but they were always behind. She was fast, far faster than they could run. It didn't matter how much training you were put through; how much physical fitness was battered over your head as one of the most important things you could focus on if you were in for this job. There was only so much you could do when chasing down a werewolf, or, rather, a pair of them.

Still, Persephone took the lead. Raven was in tow a few steps behind. Occasionally he called for her to slow down so he could consult the tracker, but Persephone rarely heeded him. The tracker was never incredibly reliable at the best of times, and when they were in a full-on chase like right now, they needed eyes more than electronics.

In the distance, not too far away, a howl. Then a second, slightly higher pitched.

"That's her," Persephone said.

"Can't be more than a hundred meters away."

"Then put that thing of yours away and get after her."

Raven was reluctant to do so; partially because in his mind, control over the technological parts of the mission was all he had going for him. That and controlling Hysteria, but as she was loose, the device in his hand was all he had going for him. Still, the tone in Persephone's voice said that this was an order, not a piece of friendly passive-aggressive advice. He shoved it in the pocket inside his jacket and sprinted to catch up with his boss.

They came across the puddle of urine. A tuft of fur shone white in a stray sliver of moonlight near the pool. Hysteria had obviously knelt to sniff, get a good track, and it had fallen out. Raven snagged it and put it inside his jacket. Any samples of werewolf hair they could get was useful; back at base they were always hounding him to get anything they could from Hysteria. If they learned what caused the change, they could control it. More thinking in the lupine form, brains in the beast. So was the plan, at any rate.

"You done hunter-gathering?" Persephone said from the other end of the alleyway.

"Yes. Coming."

He hurried after the boss but stopped in the middle of the alley. Shadows covered him, and anyone looking in from the outside would have missed he was there. Moonlight didn't venture this far down into the little crack.

Yet he felt something. Watchful eyes, focused on him. He looked around him, up to one window that overlooked the little alley. The glass was dark. Out the way they came the street was quiet, not a breeze stirring a rustling newspaper to drift past the way. A deathly silence pervaded. Yet the feeling did not go away. Something else was here, present, eyeballing him from a place unknown and unseen.