grandfather to his father, and now to him, they were his responsibility, his to keep, and he’d protect them with his life. To lose one of his swords would be similar to losing a limb.
A sound at the end of the alley drew his head up and he advanced, again picking up the trail easily.
His own tiredness was catching up with him, but Cage had to be exhausted. Not only did Cage have a good two day start ahead of him, he’d covered a lot of ground.
Sometimes, the job he was born into fucking sucked.
The alpha of the Swiftcrest wolf pack had contracted the Rabid Virus and Jace had volunteered to put him down. By putting Cage down, Jace would be killing his best friend.
And there was nothing he could do to change the outcome. Hunters and shifters coexisted, as well as a whole host of other entities. Sure, every once in a while, skirmishes broke out about other issues, but on the whole, otherworldly beings had lived together in harmony for centuries.
As a hunter, it was his responsibility to take the life of someone who’d contracted the virus to avoid widespread death among the supernatural population.
It had all started five days ago when Jace’s phone alert went off and simultaneously, he’d gotten a call from Cage’s second-in-command.
“Cage has been bitten. He’s contracted the Rabid Virus and he’s on the run,” Griffin’s deep voice rumbled over the phone.
“What the fuck?” His heart plummeted. Every thought had flown out of his head at the thought of the powerful wolf shifter, the pack alpha, writhing in pain.
“Who the hell got close enough to bite Cage and pass on the disease?” It didn’t make sense; the hunters had no known Rabid Virus cases open. He glared at his phone and the Rabid Virus alert flashing on the screen.
“I don’t know, but Brock tried to put Cage down. He put several bullets in him, but Cage is too powerful,” Griffin growled.
“You’re fucking lucky he didn’t decapitate Brock!” he’d snapped, and anger, rage, and fear for a man he admired all rolled through him.
“Yeah, well, thankfully, Brock is okay. As much as this kills me to say, I’d suggest shoot on sight and don’t risk it spreading,” Griffin snarled and hung up the phone.
Jace punched in Cage’s phone number. It went straight to voicemail.
“Leave a message,” Cage’s deep, growly voice said before a beep sounded.
“You better fucking call me,” he hissed before hanging up. At this point, Cage would be too sick to answer, but Jace’s gut told him Cage had ditched his phone. It was the smart thing to do, so no tracking device. Fortunately, Jace didn’t need a tracking device to find Cage. As a hunter, he had otherworldly abilities.
His throat squeezed. Just last week, he and Cage had hung out in the city. Roaming through the gay bars searching for some tail. They’d found nothing appealing and had ended up just the two of them, together, sharing a drink in the park and laughing up at the stars. He clenched his jaw and stiffened his legs to stop the trembling.
Shoving the phone away, he stalked across the room.
A throat clearing had him whirling toward the door where he found Drew, the leader of the Pacific Northwest Hunters, standing in the doorway.
“It’s Cage, he’s contracted the Rabid Virus. Griffin said Brock tried to put him down, but Cage got away.” The words were out before Drew could say a word.
“I was just coming to inform you.” Drew’s words sounded sad. It was Drew’s job to monitor all shifter activity in the Pacific Northwest region and Alaskan territory with only a handful of hunters. Jace didn’t envy the man his job.
“It’s an alert on the alpha.”
Jace’s eyes stung and burned beneath the sympathetic gaze. In a moment of weakness, he’d talked with Drew about his friendship with Cage. Of course, he’d assured his leader they were nothing but very good friends.
“Do we know who the original carrier is?”
“No.” Drew frowned.
Jace wasn’t surprised. Not knowing who the carrier could be wasn’t a surprise, sometimes the carrier was killed several days later. He stalked across the room and lifted his short swords from where they sat in their case. The ancient blades instantly brightened, glowing in his grip.
“I can send someone else after him,” Drew said gently, following him.
“No.” He swallowed. “I’ll find him.” He tucked his blades into the sheaths that hung at his waist and slid on his dark trench coat. It dropped and