AN: So Kharon arc has come to an end in my pat-reon. What arc do you want next? stick closely to the canon or hunting gods? let me know in the comment and check out my new fanfic Multiverse: Mission System
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Sam's eyebrows nearly hit his damn hairline when I dropped the case file on Bobby's cluttered table.
"You're passing on a hunt?"
I jerked a thumb toward Lena, who was across the room poking at her glowing heart-stone like it owed her money. "Got a rookie to train. Gonna kill two birds—teach her how to hunt and figure out what her creepy little glow-rock does."
Dean smirked around a mouthful of bacon, because of course he was already mid-bite. "Aww. Look at you. Papa Wolf Marcus. You growin' soft on us?"
I flipped him off without looking. "Shut up. I'm just the only one here who won't coddle her. You two wrap her in bubble wrap, she's gonna die the second something looks at her sideways."
Bobby slid another file toward me, this one singed at the corners and smelling faintly of smoke. "Fine. Take this one instead. Antique shop in Cedar Rapids. Owner got roasted like a marshmallow, but the shop didn't burn. Fire started inside him."
He tapped a scorched photo of the victim—crispy corpse, perfectly intact surroundings.
Lena leaned in, eyes narrowing. "Dragon?"
Bobby shrugged. "Maybe. Or somethin' new. That's what I'm hopin' you'll figure out."
I snatched the file off the table. "Perfect. Field trip."
My Nissan 350Z purred like a satisfied cat as it ate up miles of empty highway. Lena fidgeted in the passenger seat, her fingers subconsciously tracing the outline of the stone beneath her shirt. She'd been quiet since we left Sioux Falls—too quiet.
"So," I said finally, flicking on the low hum of classic rock. "You gonna tell me what you can actually do with that thing, or am I gonna have to guess every time something explodes around you?"
She hesitated, chewing her lip. "At first? Just weird energy pulses. Fried a microwave at Bobby's. Blew out the coffee maker. Sam's laptop died three times."
I snorted. "No wonder he looked like someone kicked his puppy."
Lena gave a half-smile, then pulled out her phone. The screen flickered, buzzed, and died in her hand. "Yeah. Electronics don't like me anymore."
"Okay, so you're an EMP with legs. Anything else?"
She nodded slowly. "I think it's growing. I've been stronger. Faster. I picked up Bobby's fridge the other day. Thought it was on wheels."
I gave her a sideways glance. "So...super-soldier starter pack. Got it. And?"
She looked embarrassed now, voice dropping. "I can...feel blood. Other people's. And if I concentrate... I can move it."
I nearly swerved into the next lane. "Bloodbending? What the hell, Lena?"
Her shoulders tightened. "I didn't ask for this."
I blew out a breath, flexing my hands on the wheel. "Yeah. I know."
Silence settled between us like a weighted blanket—uncomfortable, heavy, and full of too many unspoken thoughts.
"Look," I said after a beat. "That's powerful. But it's dangerous. That kind of control over someone's body? You go too far and suddenly you're not the hunter anymore."
"I know," she whispered. "But I can't make it stop. The stone... it wants me to use it. Like it's learning me while I'm learning it."
I whistled low. "Well. That's not ominous at all."
To break the tension, I grabbed my half-empty coffee cup from the console. "On the bright side, if we do run into a dragon, you can give it an aneurysm."
Lena barked a laugh. "You're terrible at pep talks."
"Yet here you are. Still in the car. Still not running away screaming."
She leaned her head against the window, smiling faintly. "Yet."
Cedar Rapids at night was a postcard for Midwest melancholy. Flickering neon signs, shuttered diners, and a Walmart that looked like it might eat your soul if you made eye contact with it too long.
The Sunset Motel looked like it had hosted every bad decision from 1992 to now. A bored guy at the front desk barely looked up from his crossword when I dropped some bills on the counter.
"Two rooms," I said.
Lena cleared her throat. "One."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Two beds, one room," she said, folding her arms. "I'm not letting you ditch me the second something goes bump in the night."
The desk guy looked up, smirking like he'd just heard the start of a porno.
I sighed. "Fine. One room."
He handed me a brass key on a massive plastic keychain like we'd just traveled back in time. Room 12.
Inside, the room smelled like mildew and broken dreams. The wallpaper peeled in the corners, and the carpet was a mystery best left unsolved.
Lena flopped onto the nearest bed and bounced once. "So. What's the plan?"
I dropped my duffel on the second bed and unzipped it, checking my weapons. "Tomorrow morning we hit the antique shop. See what's left of the crime scene, poke around for sulfur, scorch marks, maybe cursed objects."
"And if it is a dragon?"
I patted my machete. "We improvise."
Lena groaned. "That's not a plan. That's a recipe for disaster."
I grinned. "Welcome to hunting."
She shook her head, kicking off her boots. "How'd you even learn all this? You're not that much older than me."
I froze. Just a second too long. Then I shrugged. "Fast learner."
She watched me carefully. "Sometimes you talk like you've seen this stuff before. Like, decades ago."
I met her gaze. Steady. "Trauma ages you fast."
She didn't press, and I was grateful. I'd built walls around my secret for a reason. No one could ever know I wasn't from this world—that I'd lived and died once already, somewhere else, with knowledge no one else here had.
"Marcus?" she said quietly, switching off the bedside lamp.
"Yeah?"
"…Thanks. For not treating me like glass."
I stared up at the stained ceiling tiles. "Don't thank me yet. You haven't seen me before coffee."
Her soft laugh was the last thing I heard before sleep crept in.
But sleep wasn't peace.
Not for me.
In the dream, I stood in the antique shop—walls lined with relics from a dozen lifetimes. The lights flickered, then dimmed. I turned slowly.
Kharon stood in the shadows, taller than he had any right to be, his skin a writhing tapestry of blood and smoke.
"She is blooming," he said, voice like grinding metal. "Your little protégé."
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
He stepped closer. "The stone remembers me. It calls to me. But not yet. No… not yet. Let her grow. Let her fight. Each drop of blood she spills makes her a better vessel."
I gritted my teeth. "Stay away from her."
His smile split his face. Too wide. Too human. Too wrong.
"Oh, Marcus. You're still pretending you're not part of this. That your gift will be mine to begin with sooner or later."
I woke in a cold sweat.
Morning came with weak sunlight and the stink of motel coffee. Lena was already up, her duffel packed, stone pulsing faintly beneath her shirt.
"You okay?" she asked, catching my stare.
"Fine," I lied, grabbing my jacket.
Outside, the town waited. So did the antique shop. So did whatever came next.
But I knew one thing for sure:
Kharon wasn't just watching me anymore.
He was watching Lena.
And when the time came… he'd make damn sure I didn't see it coming.