The club is noisy tonight, cigerette smoke wafts through the air, glasses clinking and laughter mixes with the music. Men, women all looking for something.  Validation of their waning youth, company in the lonely nights, or something more?  I am here, I watch, I listen, I take in all of the uncertainty and insecurity that fills the room like cheap incense.  I feel something else, can almost smell it, almost see it.  Ah yes, someone is hunting tonight, someone is looking for prey, for something to feed the gaping hole in their soul - their very being.  A predator is moving among the sheep.  I lift my glass and nonchalantly scan the crowd around me.  'Where are you' I wonder silently to myself, 'have you found your target?'  A lone woman in a club usually signals the seeking men and this night is no different than any other.  While I sit and watch several have made they way over to me, trying to buy me a drink, "No thank you," is my constant reply.  They aren't who I'm looking for, they aren't predators.  Just lonely insecure males looking for a warm body to validate their manhood.  I'm here for another purpose, I'm here to trap a predator. 

My blouse is unbuttoned just enough to be interesting but not overly revealing.  The skirt is snug and accentuates my hips, the high heels bring attention to my long legs.  Just enough make up on to be noticed and appreciated by those around me.  Yes, tonight I am bait to bring a predator to my side.  The hunt is something that I love and the thrill is better than sex, and certainly lasts longer.  I light a cigerette and exhale slowly, continuing to scan the crowd.  My senses are on overdrive, seeking that spark that tells me I have found my prey for the night.  Across the room, did I see it?  Was that a slight psychic flare, a glimmer of dark desire?  A tall man with dark curly hair and empty eyes, he's watching a blonde woman.  She's pretty and petite and very well developed and, obviously, getting very drunk.  Her laughter is filled with alcohol and her suitors are many.  They're all vying for her attention and her charms like so many young male dogs, each trying to mark her as their territory.  I smile wryly, should I save this stupid girl or leave her to her fate?  She really has no clue just how dangerous the game is that she is playing, the winner does take all and the loser winds up in the river. 

I make up my mind and get up from my chair.  Running a hand through my hair and putting my purse on my shoulder I head to the ladies room, right next to where my quarry has settled in.  HIgh heels clicking, hips swaying just a bit, not too much but enough, I head to the where my prey watches and waits.  I glance at the dark curly haired man from under my lashes and can sense the evil intent washing off of him in waves, crashing at my feet.  Oh yes, he's definitely the one.  After adjusting my make up and such I come out and stumble just a little, but it's enough to bump me right into him.  "Oh," I say surprised, "I'm so very sorry."  I smile at him and his dead eyes light up as he notices me.  "Must have had a bit too much tonite," I say apologetically.  I had felt the slight bulge under his left arm when I bumped him and knew for certain, he was the one.  I psychically reached out to him and seductively brushed his mind, his eyes flared with life and a want for something that went beyond sexual.  I made my way back over to my chair and ordered another club soda and waited. 

The tall slender man with the dead eyes slowly made his way over to where I sat.  I could feel him watching, dreaming, stalking me.  Yes, I was his new prey.  I would the silly blonde bitch to her group of yapping admirers, let her deal with the morning on her own terms, at least she'd be alive to have regrets.  I lit another cigerette and waited, making small talk with the bartender.  I felt my stalker come ever closer and when I'd finished my cigerette I downed my drink and unsteadily got to my feet.  "Later Joe," I called out to the bartender.  "Alright Chris," he replied, "you okay to drive?"  "Yeah," I waved back at him, "no worries I'll get there in one piece."  With that I stumbled towards the door and out into the warm humid night air.  As I made my way over to my car I could feel my stalker leave the bar and follow me.  Oh yes, he was getting brave and I could see his dreams of knives on my flesh and his excitement at the visions of my blood... Sick bastard, but then he really had no clue, no idea who was really the predator and who was the prey.

I got to my car and leaned against it, eyes closed, looking the absolute vision of a woman who had drank too much and was not in control.  I felt him stand before me and when he said, "Hey are you alright?"  I was inwardly ecstatic, 'Yes, come a little closer' I thought.  "Yeah," I replied sounding a bit intoxicated, "I just need a minute to clear my head."  "Do you need to call someone for a ride?" He asked innocently all the while hoping and dreaming.  "No," I answered, "no one to call."  I felt the surge of elation race through him and settle in his stomach.  "Can I give you a lift?"  He asked.  I looked up at him and smiled saying, "No, that's alright.  Besides for all I know you could be an axe murderer..."  "No," he answered with genuine honesty, "I haven't used an axe in years."  We made small talk for a while more, standing there in the dark next to my car as the game of cat and mouse continued.  "How about I just take out for a cup of coffee so that you can sober up enough to drive?"  He suggested.  "There's an all night diner just up the road here."  "I could certainly use a cup or two," I replied, "can't afford another ticket for drunk driving..."  "Good," he said with real happiness in his voice, "then it's settled."  With that he reached out and took hold of my arm.  

My adrenaline had kicked into high gear as he walked me over to his vehicle and as I started to turn I noticed his hand under his jacket and on the gun.  I smiled up at him innocently, trustingly, and saw the confident predatory smile on his lips, he believed that he had me.  I saw his hand move and I instantly dropped the drunk act and had him up against his vehicle in a flash - finally my payoff. And, as several other officers came out of the shadows to swarm over him, I reached in and took the gun out of his hand.  "Was this what you were reaching for?"  I asked him with an evil smile.  He roared his rage at me and tried to lunge as he was being cuffed.  "Sorry to ruin your night there sweetie," I laughed at him.  He kicked and fought and desperately tried to get loose and at my throat.  "How did you know," he kept screaming at me.  "Oh, that you're a predator that preys on women and then dumps their bodies in the river when you're finished 'playng' with them?"  I responeded to him.  "It takes one to know one, asshole, I'm just better at it than you."  I then turned and walked away feeling satisfied with the evenings events.  My mind and body humming with energy from adrenaline rush I had just experienced. 

"Chris, " someone called out to me and I knew who it was before I turned around.  "A moment, if you don't mind," he said sarcastically.  The tall police detective was waiting by his cruiser for me.  "Yes John," I answered matter of factly.  He had a wry smile on his face as I approached him.  "You are coming down to the station to fill out the paper work on this one, right?"  He asked.  It was more of a command than a suggestion.  "No, just write it up and I'll sign it tomorrow." I replied.  'Chris, you know that's not how things are done in my department..." he started.  I quickly cut him off not having any patience for one of his testosteron filled tirades on protecol and proceedure.  "I'm not a member of your department, I'm an independent contractor that you brought in, remember?"  "Why you arrogant little..." he started and I could feel his irritaiton rise up.   He was a tall man with broad muscular shoulders, a narrow waist and black hair with pale grey piercing eyes... a typical cajun with a cajun temper to match.  All man and enough ego to match.  He took a step forward with anger glinting in his eyes... I psychically reached out and slapped him back, it stopped him dead in his tracks leaving him with a stunned look on his face.   "I'm in no mood." I stated quietly to him.  "I did what you asked and you got what and whom you wanted.  Now I am going home... alone."  I turned and walked away, moving past the throng of milling police officers. 
-

"Lieutenent," asked a uniformed officer of John, "why do you put up with that crazy bitch?"  John turned and  looked at the officer, "because she's the only one who can do what she does successfully," he replied in a quiet tone.  "We need her, she's helped us put away 5 of these sick bastards and I'd rather she work with us than against."  "Is she really that good," asked the officer scratching his head.  "Yes, she's one of the best.  She's a Hunter."  Answered John, remembering sadly the times he had shared with her years before, remembering the intimacy and the frightening moments when her 'talents' had surged out of control.  'Oh yes,' he thought to himself, 'she's a Hunter - trained by the best... me.'  He just stood there and watched her drive away.