We Are The Thrill Kill Cult

“No, you’re not.” A blanket ‘no’ to answer both questions at once. “This is friendly. Or kinda friendly, anyway. For now. How long it stays that way is up to you.”

This one would be a challenge. He’d known it going in, and it was looking more true than less. She didn’t look tough, pretty girl, early twenties maybe, so cute it made you hurt inside. Sharp tongue, quick mind. The worst kind of opposition for him. 

The soldier wished he could see a trail of smoke that was relative in density to the threat each individual posed. In this case, he worried that he was underestimating her still.

“I know what you are, all right? You know what I am. We’ll save time if we cut that part. The Wild Hunt is coming up and I need you to get me one of your Sluagh buddies – and none of that ‘Dark Fae don’t all know each other’ crap. You know this one.”

His reluctance to kill anything that didn’t pose a threat to humans set him apart from other Hunters. That meant no using ‘and I’ll let you live’ as leverage. As with the other shaky business partnerships he had, paying out was what passed as trust.

Probably one of the dogs.

The hunter laid all his cards out on the table, and Amelia shook her head. Humans were so pathetic, and this one? He was an old fart and pathetic. The slow cooker for this one. As soon as he ceased to amuse her.

“You know what I am? I have no idea what I am, so if you’ve worked that out, then, let me know.” She laughed. “Okay, fine, hunter. Take all the fun out of it.”