Prey/Highlander Crossover

Tom came through the under brush in the copse of trees. This was his first kill. It would be easy. No getting close. No getting to know the victim. Just take the shot and leave. As he approached his spot, he felt rather than saw the woman. There she was in the undergrowth watching, calm and serene as a deep sea, and yet old. She could not be older than him, indeed she looked younger. But somehow she felt old. There was no choice; he had to take her out, too. He aimed carefully and shot. Clean kill. He was glad he had opted for the silencer.

He came to the tree he was to use as a brace and watched. The protesters and then the crowd. As his eyes moved upward he saw the podium and his prey, a minor politician who had noticed more than was good for him. He did not have to die but this was good training. Lewis had to be sure he could make a clean kill.

He aimed carefully. The band played louder and the protesters shouted. When he came up to the podium and turned around to greet the crowd, he shot. He knew it was good as he squeezed the trigger. His quarry dropped and died. Panic ensued.

He quickly removed the silencer and dropped it into an inner pocket. He moved to replace his gun when he felt the sharp bite of a knife against his throat.

"Drop the gun"

He complied. She pushed him back against the tree, off balance. He saw a hand come in front of his face and brace on the tree. The knife was warm as if it had been held close to her body, as perhaps it had. He inhaled smelling the distinctive scent of blood and death. The woman! The woman he had shot, this was her. A tremor ran through him. She was dead. He could not have missed at that range.

She moved aggressively into him. Her nose at the base of his throat where it was turned away from her. She sniffed and smelled him like a dog or perhaps better a cat. Her voice was feral. Now he was prey.

As she leaned into him he breathed deeply and inhaled her scent. She smelled of blood and death, of wood smoke and…her scent beneath all that. It was warm and musky. He would recognize it if he came across her again. Was that what she was doing to him?

"I smell fear on you, young one. Have no fear. I will not kill you now. Perhaps I will not kill you at all." She whispered in his ear. "They will not think to look here, yet. We have some time."

The knife never moved as she moved even closer. Smelling him and occasionally allowing her tongue to flicker out and taste. She still had the feel of calm.

"Yes, you are different, young one. I taste fear and something else, something I have never encountered before." Her hand came to his chin and slowly turned his face towards hers. He looked into dark eyes of an undetermined color and felt a wave of desire pass over her. He began to think that he might make it out alive.

He saw a handsome face, lightly tanned, dark hair, pulled back, and eyes that sparkled at him. She moved her hand over his face as if learning it and all of the details of him. She moved closer again. Smelling him. Letting her lips travel over his face. Learning him. She then kissed him gently, tasting. His cheeks, eyes, chin, and lips. As she kissed his lips, he opened to her instinctively, letting her tongue enter and taste him. Letting her taste his desire, the desire he didn’t know he had until that moment. He had often felt desire such as this in humans. He was surprised at his own reaction.

He thought that this was the time he could move against her. As he tensed his muscles for a rush he felt the knife bite deeper and a rivulet of blood trickle down his neck.

"Naughty, naughty, just because I like you doesn’t mean I won’t kill you." He hears in his ear, a voice grown rough with passion. She drew back and looked at him. A finger on his chin raised his head so she could run her tongue along the knife and the cut on his neck. She tasted his blood and let her tongue come to his ear. "You have possibilities", she whispered.

Her fingers traveled over his face again. Brushing lightly, exploring, feeling, knowing.

"Close your eyes." A tremor ran through him, he was going to die, here, now, and not know why. He felt her, calm, serene. She came closer and whispered into his ear. "Yes, young one, you have a myriad of possibilities. We will meet again."

He felt the knife vanish from his throat. When he opened his eyes, she was gone.

He retrieved his gun and realized that he was shaking. This would never do. He went over to the place where he had shot her and touched the blood on the grass. Yes, he had shot her. He could smell the blood and knew it was hers. He ran his hand along his neck and drew it away. No blood, but he was sure that he had been cut.

He shook his head. He could never report this to Lewis. Lewis would never believe it. He didn’t believe it.

He moved with deliberate speed out of the trees and back onto the street. Lewis would be parked a few blocks away. He headed there. One word rang in his head ‘possibilities.’

She watched him leave and followed until he got into a car with an older blond man. Interesting. She licked the thin line of blood off of her knife. Yes, this one had possibilities. I will see you again.