Free Hunting Will by Alex Albrinck

other down, without blinking. “I have only one thing to say, Mr. Jones.” He glanced around the room. “Is this party already ending? Let’s get that music going and have some fun!”
    The crowd roared its approval to this suggestion, the music resumed, and within moments, the tense situation was forgotten.
    The staring contest between Clint and the Hunters continued, however. “Care to take a walk?” Porthos asked.
    Clint snorted. “You may have noticed that I have guests in my home. It would be terribly rude of me to depart now. Speaking of which… this is private property and you are trespassing. Leave.”
    Athos glanced at Porthos and Aramis, then shrugged. “We wouldn’t want to intrude on private property. We’ll leave.”
    Clint’s face clouded. He hadn’t expected the Hunters to depart with so little fuss, and he was suddenly worried that he’d walked right into their trap. As Porthos walked away, he glanced back at Clint, smiled, and said, “Sleep tight.” The Hunters left the room, leaving a very nervous rogue Aliomenti standing in the middle of his own home, surrounded by friends, feeling very much alone.

    ●●●●●

    The Assassin followed the young woman toward the barn and the attached paddock. For some reason, the human had decided to believe Athos’ claim that he, The Assassin, was interested in looking at the grounds with her, and he saw no reason to correct that mistake. The barn would provide the seclusion he needed to complete his work and leave without suspicion; the wooden structure would also enable him to display his own special skill with fire. Perhaps she’d help by heading inside the structure.
    The woman prattled on about the different horses, and she clearly cared about the creatures. She called each one by name, and most trotted her way, as if expecting something in return, perhaps a treat of some sort. The woman had nothing to offer, save for a gentle touch on the beasts’ snouts, but that seemed to satisfy the animals.
    She glanced at him. “You’re probably from a big city and have never seen horses or barns before, have you?”
    He nodded in order to keep her talking. This was a promising turn in the conversation.
    She opened the gate and stepped into the paddock. “Come on. I’ll show you what a barn looks like, city boy!” She grinned, and he followed her. He couldn’t believe his luck. She was willingly taking him into a building, in the dark, with no one else around, and she’d only just met him. Humans really were stupid, weren’t they?
    They entered the barn, and the woman located a lantern hanging on a hook near the entry. She lit the lantern, and faint light filled the interior of the structure. She moved toward one of the stalls. He silently drew his sword and, in his trademark move, sent an empathic Energy burst of abject terror toward her. He liked his victims to experience the horror of their impending deaths seconds before it happened.
    She sensed it, and her emotions shifted as if suddenly aware she’d made a huge mistake. She turned to face him, eyes wide.
    The Assassin plunged the sword into her torso, forcing the blade through until it emerged on the other side. Her face turned from terror to shock, and she shuddered several times as the injuries took hold. He let her fall to the ground, limp, and then put his boot on her to brace her against the ground as he pulled the bloodied weapon from her body. He left the blood on the blade; he would later use the smell of it to remind him of the joy of the kill, and only then, in his own quarters, would he clean the weapon. After sheathing the sword, he stooped down and looked at her serene face with its eyes closed. That was disappointing; he far preferred to watch the light of life leave his victim’s eyes, but this woman hadn’t cooperated, so he used his boot to roll her over so that he could observe where the sword had torn through her costume.
    He doused the light in the lantern and walked to