Reaper's Word

Chapter 10: Cunning Prey

Isaiah looked at the group filing in. A large group, twenty plus. He and the hell hounds were starving so this was a good thing, If they had been healthy humans. He'd have to drink the tainted disgusting blood and push the drugs out of his body.

"You bring me the worst kind to feed from?" Isaiah said. "Perhaps I simply won't feed." He challenged and the look in his eyes was fairly serious. The man who looked no older than Isaiah glared at him.

"You will or we will continue to bring you this low level scum. The last group were all healthy, and had intelligence. It is hard to get such groups without being noticed." Which was the truth.

"Let me out. You won't have to worry about it." He would have no worries. Isaiah would kill him in a heartbeat.

"This is what you get. We don't care so long as you are fed."

"If I want to feed." He said in a dangerous tone. All content is © N0velDrama.Org.

"You'll feed because you'd go crazy if you don't and you know it. You can't stop yourself forever. You'll turn feral and kill the first one you can get your hands on for blood. I know your game."

"I can hold out long enough. Long enough for a few of you to die from the starvation of it." The man looked at Isaiah. Isaiah might let himself get so weak that magic would start to break for those in the family connected to him. They both knew if he got angry enough he'd do it. The number attached to him was also a reason he had to have so many to feed from.

"But I won't." With that he turned and Isaiah slapped the unseen barrier in anger with a snarl. Then he looked at the group. He let out a loud and odd sound. Instantly Zeta, Beta, and Alpha came down the stairs.

"Just take what you need no more. We must let this group dry out." There was a low growl of disapproval from the three of them.

"Agreed." Isaiah hissed.

Isaiah waited watching the group. Disgusting, but he was starving and needed it. Why couldn't one of them have survived from before? Then he could last the days it would take for this group to use their drugs and dry out.

This was going to be a very dull month. Plus none seemed all that bright, perhaps it would get better once they were over their needs. The barrier came down as the safe time passed, and he moved forward. Walked in the room and picked the one least on a high. Right in front of them all bit into the man's neck and pulled the energy and blood from him. There were stunned looks and not a lot of movement at first as they watched what looked like a vampire feed from their friend.

His blood was tainted with what he thought might be cocaine. He was also slightly drunk. Just great, just what he wanted to push through his system. It wasn't until the hell hounds grabbed the ones that they wanted did the others start shouting and running from the room. Unsteady though it was, and ridiculous to see the way they acted.

Isaiah felt the weakness and tiredness leave him. His senses going instantly sharp and he stood there for a good five minutes. The hell hounds ate their fill of the humans leaving very little bone or flesh, but a good bloody mess. He on the other hand was waiting for the moment the drugs would push back up. What his body would reject.

Isaiah turned and marched from the room into the kitchen and was violently sick in the sink. Toxins did not mix with him. If left in his body it would deteriorate him to nothing but a feral beast and he'd rather be a rational thinking killing machine than that.

He dry heaved a few times but straightened up, and turned on the water. He rinsed his mouth from the taste there and spit it out. He turned and could hear the group running around looking for a way out. Isaiah moved to the room he'd just been in and grabbed anything that was a drug.

He went back to the kitchen, opened the door and tossed them outside. He slammed the door and the glass shattered out of it but was already fixing itself a second later. The hell hounds had moved off going to watch the humans scurry about. There was something oddly funny about watching humans like this group. They were very low on the intelligence ladder in his opinion.

Walking to leave the kitchen from a different door, he nearly tripped as he came to such a sudden stop. It looked like he'd been tripped by an invisible wire for a second. Isaiah took a few steps back and took a deep breath moving around the kitchen. It wasn't possible they hadn't felt or smelled anyone in the house. But for one second he smelled it, and it was like being hit by a freight train. A clean scent among the filth.

But it was there, the faint smell of citrus and flowers. So unique like the woman that it belonged to and he apparently had greatly underestimated her. How had she managed to go unnoticed this entire time? It had never happened before. He moved down the hall but the scent wasn't there just briefly in the kitchen.

Just what triggered her to leave the smell behind? Was it really that or a phantom smell, wishful thinking? He took another breath, no it was there. Clearly she didn't give it off all the time. Now he was extremely curious and pissed at the same time. She'd been here the whole time while he'd grown weak and had to feed from those in the other room?

He wanted suddenly to wrap his hands around her slender throat and punish her for it. He didn't care if it was survival for her. He was sure she was there, and he'd had to feed from trash. How had they missed her? How was he going to track her with no scent? No signature he could find! Where the hell was she hiding!

He tore through the house like a madman looking for a hint of the smell, but nothing. It was starting to drive him insane. He knew that he'd smelled it, was positive. Maybe it really was just a false phantom smell. Zeta looked at him as he darted past where she was.

He ignored the humans he did come across. He needed to know if he'd been fooled for more than a week by a human. He slowed thinking, maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all. He wanted a challenge, didn't he? It was what he enjoyed to pass the time. Clair had given him one without even realizing it.

Isaiah continued moving through the house trying to find the smallest hint of her. Looking for anything but it was like she was a ghost living in his home. Perhaps that was exactly what she was, but he wouldn't be satisfied until he knew for sure.

It was near midnight when he found himself in the greenhouse area. He was growing discouraged as he entered the greenhouse. Then just barely, but it was there her scent, and he moved forward. He moved toward the door in the back. He hadn't been to this part of the house in years. There was nothing down there that he cared to do. Humans avoided it because it was a dead end hall. A trap.

A few bedrooms along with an art room and dark room. He opened the door and moved down the stairs there and turned the corner. He caught it again and this made him more excited. It led him to the door nearly at the very end and he opened it.

The light came on and he stepped into the room, it was the art room. The air was heavy with her scent. It was addictive, so strong it hit him like a fist to the gut. He had to stand there for a second letting it wash over him. It took a minute for him to calm the rush and need that went through his body. He moved forward.

The room was clean but a few things were moved out of place, set up differently than he remembered. He looked around the room to find what she'd been doing in here. The feeling of the room was totally

different than the rest of the house.

It wasn't depressing or angry, it held a very positive air, a clean and refreshing change for him, perhaps that was why it hit him so hard. It made him giddy like the drugs did to those moving through his home now. He just wanted to sit in here and soak it in. Better yet wait for her to show up, it was clear that she enjoyed this place.

Then it hit him. It seemed that her scent was only released when she felt a positive emotion. She had to be just as starving as he was, as the hell hounds had eaten all the food. In the kitchen she would have been excited and happy to get food. He was confused about what it was in this room she enjoyed so much.

The more he thought to wait, the more a weight seemed to press down on his chest. Interesting the house was acting of its own accord on her behalf. He had ignored this room, and she had come in and set up shop clearly giving it her attention and care. It wanted to keep her around, this was odd. Humans didn't tend to find things to occupy their time in this house. She was interesting, a freak of a human.

Isaiah opened the different drawers and doors. He came to one closet that had her scent on it stronger than the others and he opened it. He slid open the cabinet there and looked at the labeling on it.

Greenhouse, general house, I.Z.A.B. He grabbed the greenhouse one first, opening it and moving to the table. He pulled out the papers in it. He was amazed by the detail and skill in these pictures. Some of them he would have thought were photographs.

He knew where each of these plants were located above him and he was really intrigued now. He put them back and grabbed the next section, in here were drawings of the house. One was of the rose on the ballroom floor. She had been on the roof. It was the only place to have seen this. He flipped them over and on the back he saw a neat and scrolling hand written note.

Ballroom floor- Mosaic Rose.

He put it back and grabbed the last one. He wasn't sure what the letters stood for but he didn't think that he would be unimpressed by whatever she had drawn in here. Everything else was so real and life-like. He couldn't remember meeting someone with this kind of skill. Though he'd never really looked before. No one did anything but hide or fight in this place.

He pulled the first drawing out and stood frozen in place. The one that he'd pulled out first was the one where he'd been playing the piano. Zeta was on top of it and the others were laying down. Beta on the chase lounge. It was so real, and such a feeling in it that he could almost believe the drawing was alive. He pushed the drawing back in and snapped the hanging file closed. He moved from the room opening the door.

"I'm not going to do anything to them." He said as he felt that oppressive weight again it was harsh and almost painful. He'd never been attacked like that before by the house. The magic here made it a living thing. The weight was instantly gone at his words, and he moved with quick and graceful movements to his part of the house.

Isaiah went up the glass staircase and into his room. He shut the door and moved over to push the couch out of the way. He unsnapped the portfolio and pulled the pictures out one by one laying them on the floor. He now knew what I.Z.A.B. Stood for, she'd been watching them all this time and none of them had known it.

He looked at the two of the piano room first. The images so different. One felt hopeless and almost evil while the other felt peaceful and calm. She'd seen what had happened. She'd been there but they hadn't known it, how? How was she moving through the house? Because they would have seen her in this room.

Isaiah looked at the portraits of him and the hell hounds. She caught each of the hell hounds perfectly. Exactly what their personalities were. He didn't need to look at the back to know who was who. He looked at his own portrait staring at it. He didn't know what to make of it. Couldn't have been more like him unless he held a mirror up.

"These are exceptional." He said and he wanted to be able to do this. To draw with such skill and passion. It was clear that she had a passion for this. The emotions in the images were crisp and clear, how she saw the objects. However he could not read her mind, couldn't take from her what he could others.

Clair might have just bought herself an extended amount of time to live, if he could catch her. She was clearly far better at this game than he had originally thought. He moved to the door and opened it. He'd already known that Zeta, Beta, and Alpha were there. They came in curious as to his mood and attitude. They shifted over to the drawings and stared at them. Their perception of them was different but each knew which was theirs.

‘I like.’ Zeta said mentally and the other two concurred with her.

‘She lives?’

"Yes, and she is playing a very good game. Perhaps without even knowing it." This was exciting to him. This human was quick, smart and talented. When he caught her, he was going to enjoy it immensely.

"If you find her, bring her to me. I don't want her killed yet." He ordered and the three nodded moving off to go and do as they pleased. He looked down at the drawings, looking at his own. He gathered them up and put them back in the folder and placed them on the couch. It was time to go hunting, and his prey was clearly the cunning sort.