Who's hunting Who? Chapter 41. (Patreon)

Here we are. Please enjoy.

Desk work did not suit me at all. There was no greater truth than this, in all the history of truths. Yet here I was, sitting at a desk, coffee cooling by my side, working on one of the old hunt works. It was a past tale of a hunter from the time before Cat, one 'Sibilant light Saul'.

He used lights to disorient and attack witches somehow, and was apparently quite effective for a number of years, even without a generator, but this book didn't list his attack methods, only where he went and who he killed. All crap none of us needed to know.

Gray looked up as I threw it, taking his little glasses off. "Was that necessary? Books are precious knowledge, are they not?"

"Not that one." He should know how useless that thing was, he was tied directly to my head. Still, he frowned at me, and got up from his own seat to retrieve the thing and put it to rights.

It was fine, I hadn't even thrown it that hard.

"That makes three," Gray said. Great, he was counting. "Perhaps you should take a break? I can continue for both of us if needed."

Such self-sacrifice! "Nah, I can't do that to you. We'll both take a break, before our eyes melt out of our heads, or worse. Almost time to do the teaching thing, anyway."

We'd spent hours at it, and our next meeting was due to happen in one. Vivian's higher ups had taken one look at yesterday's performance and hired us on the spot. They were gathering classes as quickly as they could send the messages.

Bleh, cold coffee is cold. Still, Gray had told me I couldn't start drinking the good stuff yet. He was right, of course, I should at least finish teaching one class first. Wait till noon, or something.

He reminded me a little too much of Ivan when he tried to bargain with me like that. I'd really like to know how Ivan was doing.

I needed to make the time to go to central. Somehow. First we had to hunt ourselves a witch.

Gray could track the thief who stole our hunt archives of course, they had left a trail he claimed he could follow, even weeks later. Letting him go alone wasn't in the cards though. Cat claimed she could do it too, whatever trick it was, but that seemed even more crazy an idea than letting Gray go alone.

Letting them both go together was possible, yet if Cat wanted a snack, having Gray be there alone was just like hanging a steak around her neck and ringing a dinner bell.

Then again, a show of trust would not go amiss, and I was pretty sure Gray could take care of himself... if he kept some distance. And stayed in his ship.

"Gray."

The little guy cut me off. "Yeah, I got it. About time you made up your mind. I'll let you know what we find."

"Do better than that. Check in on the hour." Any more and I just get irritated. Any less and I'd get worried.

"Fine. Try not to blow anything up."

Well, that was fair. "No promises, but I'll give it a shot."

Honestly, my propensity to blow things up was directly proportional to how sober I was, so I should be fine. Huh, all the reading was getting to me, what was I doing thinking about propensity and proportions? Did I always know those words? I didn't think so.

Whatever, that worry was one for future me; present me was a bit busy.

I cleaned up the books while Gray left. Then I was right behind him and heading to the next meeting place - the field we used yesterday outside the city, now devoid of yesterday's traps. We'd decided to just cut the middle man, even if it meant we had to jog laps around the forested area rather than the city now.

I guess seeing all their finest gasping and wheezing around them lowered the parisian's morale. Probably.

I would have guessed seeing people go to such lengths for them would improve morale, but what did I know? I wasn't that good at all the thinking stuff; that cerebral side of managing warriors and normal folk. I could be getting better at it - again, a problem for future me.

Present me wanted hot coffee, since present me had stayed up most of the night translating useless books. If anyone asked, present me had not woken up glued to an old moldy tome by drool early this morning, and any pictures to the contrary were dirty lying fakes. Even if Gray was going to share them later, because of course he was, why wouldn't he?

It would only be with Cat and her crew, which maybe I could live with, but it was still annoying. So many annoying things, and not enough time or bullets for them all.

Speaking of, I needed to make some of my special ammunition. I'd been relying on doing things the other way for far too long. So long as I had an actual budget and access to the tools I needed, I should expand my horizons.

How long could I do this, before any remnants of the hunt found me? It wouldn't just be witches drawn here by rumors. What to do when that day came was also a problem for future me. Future me was going to hate present me something fierce. A good thing future me couldn't aim my way.

This was weird; introspection, self reflection, wasn't my way. Even the word wasn't something I was used to. Time to go to work.

Double timing with an open cup of coffee was possible, if you were good. dodging early morning traffic was just an extra level of difficulty, nothing to sweat over.

My young fools were waiting on me, in their own little groups, all chatting away in loud whispers that I could hear before I even entered the clearing. They were partially clued in by their friends I'd talked to yesterday, but were clearly not fully believing what I was capable of.

"Alright, form up! You aren't even worth the breath to insult, yet. Fall in, fall in, you have until I reach front and center!"

Vivian was there waiting, so that was where front and center was. Behind her were two older men I didn't recognize except in a general way from all the metal pinned two them. Peacocks that might have fought, once.

The others knew it too, because they automatically faced that way when getting the lead out.

I came to a stop next to Vivian and sipped before a drop could ripple around the cup and spill.

"Must you do that?"

Was she mad I ran here? That was barely a warm up! "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "Nothing. How did you sleep?"

Only one way to answer that question: "Like a baby. How about you?"

"Well enough. I only ask because you look... well, very bad."

"I look like hell in the best of times, don't pay it any mind." The old peacocks seemed content to let Vivian carry the conversation and just blend in without blending in. It was whatever, since I wasn't part of their military I didn't owe them any salutes, and they knew who I was so no need to tell them.

The scrubs were now lined up and ready, or near enough. I called for attention and began my spiel. I did change a word here and there, but it was pretty much the same as yesterday's honest rant.

It was a bit more muted than yesterday, but it had much the same effect. Of course the impact would be less, since these people would have heard about yesterday, but it was fine.

The young rookies went off to make their traps, and I turned to Vivian again. "I thought you were going to train your own group?" That had been the idea, after all.

"I was. Those plans were changed. Sasha, I'd like you to meet General Laurent and General Orvrard. General Laurent is in charge of the defense of Paris, and General Orvrard is in charge of our special forces."

So, the gray haired old guy on the right who still looked like he could run a bit was Vivian's direct boss, and the balding and plump old guy on the left was Vivian's boss's boss? Or his boss while he was here, at least. That worked.

I gave a little bow, hunt style. "Pleased to meet you both. What brings you here?"

As if I didn't know.

The old guy on the right was at least man enough to admit it: "We came to see the show. We wanted to know what our budget and food were buying us. So far, I have to say I'm not impressed."

Ah, the petty mouthings of someone who hadn't undergone hunt training... or had failed that training. "I don't believe in lying about the chances of rookies. The training is bog standard Hunt though, and it's served humanity well for decades."

"I wanted to meet the celebrity," old man on the right uttered into the silence. "I expected someone... taller."

"Sasha!"

Vivian had managed a grip on my arm; when had she gotten so strong? Right, I shouldn't shoot her boss's boss. I re-holstered my gun. "I'm sorry I don't meet your height requirement."

He hadn't even blinked, the bastard. Even worse, he kept talking: "You seem to embody the Hunt itself."

Now, what was that supposed to mean?

Vivian leaned in close to whisper: "Sasha. please don't shoot my superior officer."

"He's trying to piss me off. It's working."

Vivian shook her head, just a little. "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it; you're tall enough. Almost average, really."

Now Vivian was trying to piss me off. Just because I hadn't grown to seven feet tall, like some people, didn't mean... no. I could manage to do this without shooting people. I could be... the bigger person.

I'm sure Alicia would make a joke there, but there was silence. I wouldn't say it, even in my own head because Gray would pick it up, but I was sure the little guy knew anyway.

"Sorry. I'm a little sensitive about any physical... shortcomings I may or may not have."

"Size isn't everything," General Orvrard said, making him officially my favorite old guy. "I've seen plenty of people I'd not have taken for soldiers tear people apart."

He looked like he could do that himself.

"I apologize, Miss Norre," the other old guy said. "I did not mean to offend."

Great, now he was lying. Still, I had to control myself. We needed me placed here for the plan. I could be calm, I could be reasonable... "apology accepted. I should probably go count the rounds the rookies are making. If I don't, some will try to cheat."

I heard the whisper "she intends to run herself?" followed by Vivian's "of course." but chose to ignore it. I made my way to the front of the long strung out line in order to set the pace. So far, this group was doing very well, but some were already gasping. They could do with some training on how to properly breathe.

Vivian joined me: "I can't stand them either. Two old fossils, looking down on others."

I couldn't argue. Even if I could, I wouldn't.

"It's clear that they have fought, both of them... but not witches." They likely hadn't seen a single live witch among them. If they had, they should have been able to spot me, after all. No one here had the experience, not even Vivian herself, and she was their expert.

It worked in or favor, but it felt wrong. Where had all the true hunters gone? The scouts would have gone to ground immediately, no matter the country, so why weren't they here?

No, future me again. Once I'd established a place here, settled all these rookies, then I could go looking. If I should go looking; most of our scouts would know, after all, and try to kill me on sight. They'd fail of course, but all the running and screaming would make it hard to talk to them. Harder still to convince them of what needed to be done.

The plan was to help Paris succeed and then ghost before the right people flocked to it, after it proved it could hold. No pressure.

Much as we paced around, my mind also paced along long familiar ground, like one of those tame rodents in their wheels. Just as I let my body run, I let my mind run; There was little else to do while running, even if nothing would be settled.

There was still some risk of a witch having found out what I was doing and attacking us, which would be a welcome change of pace at this point. The brass still standing on the rough natural podium there would make a great bait, and allow me to counter first. If the witch were new, anyway. Any seasoned witch would also be able to pick me out of a crowd and would know who to hit first.

I'd welcome either outcome at this point.

Past the laps, I demonstrated the traps again, and got those who were still upright started on making them. Vivian pitched again, proving she had paid attention yesterday, and probably practiced sometime last night; her work was adequate. She needed more help hiding them, but I wasn't about to call her out on that in front of everyone else. At least not directly - I could play politics too.

Instead I just offered some general tips that I could see her take to heart with the rest; she even dragged her notebook out again, and wrote down every word. She'd have made one hell of a secretary... or receptionist.

Whatever, too late to tell her that she missed her calling now, she likely knew it already.

By the time the traps were rated, our old guys had left. Guess they saw all they needed to.

"What do you think?"

"You're in," Vivian answered. "If they didn't pull you then and there, they intend to let these classes continue."

Good enough.

"Any more snipers?" I could give a few pointers to more people, and if we got a good enough system going we could set up a large group of snipers to cover each other. I'd seen such a thing work before, hunters or no.

"Sasha." Shit, what did Gray want? Where was he?

"You okay?" Vivian asked.

Shit, I'd been looking around. "Yeah I'm fine. Thought I heard something."

Vivian raised an eyebrow, panning herself around the noisy field.

"No, I meant something that didn't belong. It was nothing."

Gray wasn't here. He was contacting me through my hat, with the earpiece part of it. The earpiece part of it that was in the small of my back, yet still working.

Yeah, don't question it. We could send our thoughts to each other, after all; why should it matter if my hat is on or not? "What, Gray?"

"We've found a witch. You wished to be informed."

That was fast. "Alright, send a messenger, an actual physical runner with a note."

It was important that I be there; that Vivian be there, and that Cat and I cover our bases on the evidence chain. Cat could take care of the witch herself, but it was more important that we do it together than the witch die.

"Understood," Gray replied and I actually felt the mental click of disconnection.

Cat wouldn't want to waste her energy anyway.

It was a long wait, but a dirty, out of breath boy dressed in muddy rags that couldn't be more than twelve made his way to us. Somehow he'd made it past the sentries, and whatever traps had been on the periphery of the forest, and darted past the soldiers we were training, finally pulling up on us and putting his head back down between his knees to recover while holding a note out to me.

Vivian was frowning at the kid, as if she'd never seen a kid before. I took the note, and the opportunity to slip the kid some real coin; if he managed not to get it taken from him, he might be able to afford food or better shoes.

I read the message 'we found the witch, come immediately' and showed it to Vivian. "Want to come?"

Her face tightened. "Absolutely."

I turned to the kid. "Lead us there."

The kid took off and I started to follow.

Oh right. "Practice among yourselves!" Vivian shouted, taking the heat off me. I knew there was a reason to keep her around.

This kid... he'd been holding back; his breathing was good, his speed was good, and he was picking his route. If I wasn't as good as I was, I'd be losing him right now - which made me think he might be sandbagging even now. After all, I was bigger, and still able to follow him through the boltholes and crowds that he was slipping through at near my top speed.

Vivian was also impressing me; she wasn't fully keeping pace, but she had me in sight, and that was good enough.

We were led a merry chase, and I knew I needed to get back on my workout grind if some sorry ass homeless kid could make staying in front of me look easy. Still, we made good time, heading down to the waterfront along the river that ran through the city, then following those winding streets... until we entered one of the many corner cafe's that seemed to be sprinkled everywhere around the place like so many better smelling outhouses.

As soon as the gloom hit my eyes I could make out Cat and Gray both sitting in the back booth, next to each other, facing the door and backs to the wall. commendable caution. They weren't staring at me, no... they were instead staring at an old warehouse and wharf across the river.

Vivian entered just as Gray was getting up; I'd take his spot.

My new protege frowned and took a booth near us, side-eying us and watching the door, even as we were.

"The warehouse?"

"Not quite. Under it."

The waitress came over, looking slim and sun tanned and utterly bored, flipping her bleach blonde hair as she flounced over to us. She spoke in French of course, which was not the worst language I'd ever dealt with, but was annoying enough.

I gave an order, since more coffee wouldn't be a bad thing, and then listened to Cat order a shake and four scones. Which I'd be paying for, of course. How did she have any teeth left at her age?

The waitress then moved to Vivian, who gave an order for some kind of complicated latte that I didn't follow all the directions to.

We had to wait a bit longer before she got out of earshot, flouncing away while Vivian frowned at her back.

"Still think she's there?"

"Yeah," Cat replied. "She went in, and hasn't come out. Gray has some friends watching the other exits."

Good, Gray had kept Cat in sight, just like I'd asked. If Cat knew that was the plan, she wasn't letting on in front of the third wheel. She seemed to be in the dark though.

"What was she doing when you found her?" I had to know. Just maybe, Vivian had to know.

"Wandering around, watching troop movements, and I think casing the warehouse just past this cafe to the left."

Cat was watching Vivian as she said that, which meant so was I. So we both caught the slight hitch our new partner in crime gave at those words. "That is... it would be a tragedy if that place were raided by the enemy."

Well that usually only meant one thing. That was a place where things that exploded were stored. Luck was with us, possibly. "how bad?"

"Very bad. It is small, yet packed with enough to kill everyone around for several blocks. The security is as tight as we can make it of course, yet I fear that means little to... one of them."

Right, best to be careful. Our target could be listening for certain key words, especially this close.

It seemed... suspicious. Suspicious in how easy it was, suspicious in where the witch was to be found. An open challenge, even, complete with a timer. Someone was underestimating humanity, now that the Hunt was gone.

"So, we're going?" Vivian asked. The woman had balls of steel. No experience, but definite balls of steel.

"Yeah, we're going."

I looked to Cat; did she want to do it? She shrugged. Fine, we'd both do it.

The waitress was still working on the coffee order, with the scones set to one side. Maybe it was normal for her to have no name tag, and maybe it wasn't. It was time to find out.

I couldn't tell Gray exactly what I wanted, but he knew well enough anyway, just from the signs I fed him while Vivian was checking her pockets for the gear she'd likely never use. It kept her out of trouble for the moment.

Gray walked up, climbed up a stool onto the counter, and watched for a moment before saying, very loudly to those of us in the know: "You're doing it wrong."

That was more for us than her of course, since Gray was telling us this waitress, worker, whatever, didn't know how to make Vivian's very complicated order. Not that I knew any more than she did, but it was her job after all. Still, she could just be new.

No response.

"You're supposed to froth the cream first, then mix it in," Gray continued without missing a beat.

Hm, whoever it was went back, and frothed the cream. Interesting.

"No, you're supposed to use a spoon to keep it separated, then mix it all at once. Would you like me to show you?"

There! a twitch. A slight twitch, but enough.

She was turning, throwing the entire machine she'd been using at me, but not nearly fast enough. The first shot knocked the machine aside, the second knocked a hole in the witch's side.

Hell, barely a witch in that case. I'd used low power for a reason.

Cat was almost as fast; she was at the witch in an instant and jamming her down with a boot. "Why'd you miss her head?"

"I wanted to see if she had friends." As long as she was alive, there was a chance any compatriots would try to rescue her, allowing us to both control where and when they appear. We'd done it before... hold a witch, release where she's being held and when she'll be executed, and profit.

"Where's the familiar?"

Cat shook her head for show, but the question was really asked to Gray, who was already pointing up. As in, an upper floor, or the roof itself.

"Got to be here somewhere. I'll go check." I went out the front and hopped up. I wanted a picture of Vivian's face later; her gaping fish look was priceless.

Two of Gray's friends were in their saucers, and both were pointing the guns on those saucers on a vaguely humanoid form made of what looked to be smoke... which wasn't even original. Really, I felt kind of embarrassed for this witch. Her ability to blend in was awful, and her power was such that we hadn't felt it. Even Cat hadn't been certain, and that was saying something. This little wisp of smoke wasn't strong enough to do anything, and even lacked the motivation to try.

Lucky enough for us, but worrying. This witch was no heavy hitter, no mastermind.

I did wonder where this one had her hat hidden. We had no generator to feed it to, and no prison to store her in. The witch herself would be bargaining for mercy, but there would be none. Why did she think there would be any?

I snagged the stupid familiar who had let us get near their master. "Come on. Make yourself visible if you haven't, and come with me."

With my senses it was hard to tell what was visible to others and what wasn't anymore. Still, it would gain nothing from outing me.

I pulled it down with me, my escort following. Going inside I found the witch already spilling her guts, Cat still pretty much standing on her, and Vivian off to the side looking on with curiosity... and a whip of all things collected in her hand and ready.

Whips sucked as weapons, but at least I had no idea where she'd hidden that, so it was something.

"....Bethany is in the warehouse. She was going to move on the armory, and I was to play lookout. See if anyone made us."

We knew that, silly witch. Gathered that already; tell us something new.

Cat jumped on it so I didn't have to. "Did you ransack the old Hunt office?"

The still unnamed witch ceased her crying out of sheer surprise for a moment: "Yes? We had to know if there were any hiding in the city. If we could hit them before they hit us...."

A tale as old as time. Come to think of it, this witch... she looked familiar. Ever so slightly familiar. Not that I knew her name, she wasn't an enemy celebrity, but I'd seen her somewhere before.

It was clear she recognized us. That was the expectation here, that we would free her and join the crusade, or that she could get us to.

She had noticed me and my new prisoner, and it was clear she wanted to say something about it, but Cat had all of her attention. Cat, who knew it as well as I did; this one could not be allowed to out us to Vivian... to the humans.

She opened her mouth, and Cat stomped down.

Not to kill, not yet. But there would be no more talking. I had the other piece of this equation; the familiar that Cat would need. Not that different that feeding a hat to a generator, and in fact Cat was playing along in that regard - she had the empty box of one hanging on her belt as if it belonged.

She reached behind the gasping witch and brought out a small beret, from exactly where my own hat was located on my person. She mimicked shoving it her generator, but that wasn't what she needed to do.

She needed a distraction. "Hey Vivian. You don't need to see this."

Vivian had looked at the sound of her name, and that was enough; Cat took the hat and shoved it into her mouth, impossibly. My prisoner vanished in an instant, down the gullet of the most notorious witch to live.

Vivian made to answer, but there would be no further reprieve of any kind. For the third time now, Cat stomped down.