Night Hunter (BL)

I stood there, frozen in shock, as a second stretched into eternity. My mind raced, questions flooding my thoughts like panicked birds taking flight. Why was Jake here, in this condition? If he had been injured on a mission, he should have been back home, receiving the care he deserved—not bleeding out on my floor.

The blood staining his body—a chilling reminder of his suffering—seemed to drain all the warmth I had once known. Panic coiled tightly in my chest, squeezing the breath from me. Had the angels discovered me? Was this it? Had I doomed my brother to this fate, dragging him into my world of shadows? And what about our parents? Our sister?

My gaze flickered downward to Jake's battered form. He lay crumpled, barely clinging to consciousness. Despite the pain evident in every line of his face, he managed a weak scoff before rasping out, "Th—thank you, Ginevra." His voice was fragile, each breath sounding more laboured than the last.

My stomach twisted at the name, and I looked up sharply. My eyes locked onto the man—no, the thing—Jake was thanking. A wave of overwhelming nausea hit me. Disgust surged within me, sharp and hot, as I instinctively covered my mouth to hold back the bile rising in my throat.

A cold-blooded being—no, worse, a vampire—had crossed the threshold of my home. A creature of the night, the very kind I had been trained to despise, stood there, his presence tainting the sanctity of my space. He had brought this monster into my life, into my home.

"He... he..." Jake started, but his words dissolved into a bloody, wrenching cough that racked his entire body. He must have seen the disgust on my face, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to push the rage down. Screaming wouldn't save him. My mind spiralled, caught between the person I had been and the person I was now. Though I had long abandoned the path of a Night Hunter, remnants of that old life clung to me like iron chains. They were unyielding, suffocating. It was why I couldn't accept what I had become. Why I despised myself.

Because I had turned into the very thing I was once trained to destroy, to hate.

And this vampire—this creature, despite his supposed good intentions, despite his efforts to save Jake—had shattered what little stability I had left in my fractured world.

"Save your strength, Jake," I urged softly, though my voice trembled with the storm raging inside me.

"He couldn't take me back home," Jake whispered, his words laced with a sorrow that pierced straight through me.

Of course, he couldn't. He was a vampire. The very fact that he had helped a Hunter—my brother, no less—would be enough to seal his fate. I forced the turbulent thoughts aside. Right now, Jake needed me, not my anger.

With trembling hands, I began removing Jake's torn, bloodstained clothes, carefully inspecting the extent of his injuries. The gashes were deep, and the surrounding flesh was swollen and infected, oozing with sickness. I swallowed back a rising wave of panic as I glanced at him, silently demanding an explanation. But Jake's eyelids remained closed, his face twisted in pain and resignation, that familiar childlike plea etched into his features—"Don't ask."

"Jake, I can't help you if I don't know what happened," I said, my tone soft but urgent. The desperation in my voice betrayed me. Deep down, I wondered if knowing the truth would even be enough to save him.

"He was attacked," Ginevra, the vampire, finally spoke, his voice low and almost unnervingly calm given the situation. I guessed he had stayed quiet because he must have sensed the hostility radiating off me the moment I saw him.

I looked up sharply, disbelief flashing across my face as I met his gaze. "Why did you wait so long to tend to his injuries? They're infected," I snapped, my irritation slipping through despite my attempts to hold it back.

Ginevra exhaled sharply, more annoyed than apologetic. "I'm sorry I don't travel at a million kilometres per hour," he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm. "It took me ten minutes to get here."

I turned my head sharply toward him. "Ten minutes? Where did you find him?"

"I didn't exactly find him; I was with him, trying..." Ginevra started, but Jake cut him off, his voice weak but I could still sense how much he wanted Ginevra to shut up.

"Please, don't tell him," Jake pleaded, fear flickering in his eyes as they darted between Ginevra and me.

"Why not?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay calm even though my anger was building.

"He was attacked by a feral vampire," Ginevra continued, ignoring Jake's protests. "A few of them have been appearing lately."

"Ginevra, stop…" Jake groaned, trying to interrupt again.

I shot him a pointed look, silencing him instantly.

The vampire cleared his throat, and his unease was apparent. "He'll live for now. You can use your... angel blood to slow the infection."

I stiffened at his words, though I quickly masked my reaction. I could, but I didn't dare disclose that I was no longer pure. Ginevra, however, should have already discerned the truth from my scent.

Questions swirled in my mind, a relentless storm of doubt and fear, but for now, my priority was clear: I had to save Jake. "Give me your phone, Jake. I'm calling home," I said, already searching his pockets for it as he weakly protested.

"I would help you myself, but you know," I muttered with a shrug, pulling the phone from his pocket.

As I stood and dialled, the phone barely rang once before Amanda, my sister, answered.

"Hello? Jake, where the hell are you? I'm going to kill you," she hissed.

"Amanda, it's me. He's hurt," I tried to keep my voice steady despite the panic clawing at my insides, I didn't want to worry her.

She cursed, and then the line went quiet. The silence that followed was thick, pressing down on me, suffocating. I hung up trusting that Amanda would make her way here.

When I turned back, I saw Ginevra gently running his fingers through Jake's hair. It was an odd, almost intimate gesture—completely out of place for a vampire and a Night Hunter. The contradictions of it all were too much for my mind to process right now.

Clearing my throat, I opened my mouth to speak, but Jake beat me to it. "I'm sure she was shocked to hear your voice. You're not exactly the type to call," he muttered, his lips twitching slightly.

The words were barely audible as he continued, "You know, come to think of it, this is the longest you've stayed in one place."

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, nobody bothers me up here. The only person who knows about me is a witch who keeps to herself. Plus, I've been behaving," I replied.

Jake scoffed, his voice thick with the same annoyance that had always been there, lurking just beneath the surface. "Behaving? It's not like you to behave. I bet you'll be looking for trouble soon enough, trying to get yourself killed."

His words struck harder than I expected, and a painful lump formed in my throat. Jake had found me countless times, bloodied and barely clinging to life, always dragging me back from the brink of my own recklessness.

I was terrified to lose him right now. Is this how he has always felt? Seeing me close to death's door.