"Don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash."

-Hozier

                                                                                ***

She felt off-balance.

And it was his fault.

Galloway sighed as she looked at the bite marks fading slowly but surely on her neck, the punctures silvery against her pale skin. She wondered just how exactly she was supposed to survive treating Sirius like she would any other Hunter.

She didn't even know how she would treat another Hunter. The only Hunters she'd ever truly known were her family. Her brothers, her parents, maybe some family friends. But she'd cut off contact to the Hunter world after she'd made her Deal.

Galloway was a Hunter, but she wasn't part of the brotherhood anymore. She didn't answer calls of help from other Hunters, and she didn't ask for help either. She never worked with other Hunters. Ever.

If she got wind that another Hunter was working the same case as her, she usually just slipped away, letting them take care of the monster. That was safer than getting entangled in what would certainly end up being an awkward conversation when they realized she was more of what they hunted than a Hunter herself.

Galloway wondered how she was supposed to just let Sirius into this part of her life. This was her inner demon—something that dug the spurs in and wouldn't let her go, and she didn't want to share. She'd prefer to keep this peculiar brand of insanity to herself.

It made her feel vulnerable and she was sick of feeling that way.

But she'd promised.

Which was why she'd been avoiding cases.

Galloway sighed and went back out into the main room to find Sirius sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, surrounded by newspapers, eyes scanning the computer screen in front of him rapidly.

"Um..." She picked up one of the papers and frowned at the headline. "Seven fall mysteriously ill in Edgewood?" She looked up at him. "New Mexico?"

"Uh-huh. I saw that this morning," he answered absently, the subtle tap of a keyboard now filling the air.

"What's with the sudden interest in New Mexico?" Galloway asked, reading through the story—dread grew in her stomach, unfurling like a dark flower.

"We...have a Debt in...Las Cruces anyway." Sirius frowned at the screen as he spoke, his words stilted as he focused on whatever he was looking at.

"Okay..." She drew the word out, raising an eyebrow as she waited for him to explain.

Sirius sighed and shut the computer with a snap, giving her a dry look. "If we have to head south anyway, I thought we might as well check out Edgewood. A mysterious illness sounds vaguely Hunter-y. Though I can't figure out what in the hell might be causing it."

A smile tugged at the side of her mouth as she looked once more at the newspaper and sat on her bed. "Best guess? Probably a skin-walker. You find a lot of them in the desert and they can cause illness or injury, though usually they're pretty harmless. Mostly they like to mess with people. You know, spook people driving along on some abandoned desert highway. But if one of these things gets pissed they can wreak some impressive havoc."

Sirius blinked slowly, then scowled. "I've been sitting here for like an hour trying to figure that out. You walk in, take what? Maybe half a glance at one freaking newspaper and know immediately what's causing this?"

Galloway laughed and threw the newspaper in question at him, which he caught easily, still scowling at her. "Practice, Sirius. It's all about practice. All supernaturals have patterns. They kill in a certain way or can only be found in a certain part of the world or leave behind some kind of evidence. I just know the patterns. Skin-walkers are only found in North America, concentrated generally in the southwest. Any lore we have on them is Native American."

He frowned, looking down at the newspaper again. "So...what do we have to do?"

She went over to the table and snagged a cold piece of pizza from last night. Around a bite, she said, "Skin-walkers can cast something like a curse on other people. Unfortunately, it's not like hoodoo or witchcraft where you could possibly convince the witch to reverse the spell. If a skin-walker casts a curse, it's permanent."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "So the people cursed just, what? Die?" Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion and he shrugged defensively. "What? I told you, just another Hunter, right? Don't Hunters...care or whatever about the victims?"

"No," Galloway said, still frowning. "You said that I was supposed to treat you like another Hunter. Not that you had to play this little charade."

He flung himself backwards dramatically, paper crinkling loudly under him as he placed a hand over his heart and gave her a wounded expression, eyes wide and mocking. "Charade? Charade? This is no charade, sweetheart. I care."

She snorted. No he didn't.

"No, really," Sirius tried, but a tell-tale smile was already pulling at his mouth. "That's really what I was after in all of this. I really do care about the silly humans and wish to hunt my way toward redemption for killing so very many of them."

His words hit Galloway like a sledgehammer to the chest. She looked away from him and heard the crinkle of paper as he sat back up.

"Galloway?"

She couldn't look at him, sure her face would give away everything she'd ever managed to hide from him. As far as he knew, she hunted for the thrill, for the blood, as a way to let off steam, because that's what she would have done if she had stayed completely human. Galloway didn't care which of those reasons he believed, just as long as he don't know her true motives. 

That hunting actually was her redemption. She wasn't supposed to want redemption.

Forgiveness wasn't for someone like her.

Then again, maybe he'd already guessed this and she was just trying to fool herself at this point.

She made her face as still and distant as was possible before she looked at him. "Since when are you so gung ho about this hunting thing?"

Sirius frowned, eyes trying to pierce the veil she had wrapped around herself, but eventually he just asked, "What do you mean?"

She chewed on her lip just to stop abruptly when he looked at her mouth. Galloway lay back on her bed and snorted. "Four weeks ago you were telling me to stop hunting all together because Theron was going to find out about how I was a Hunter before...before everything. You said he'd make me pay for it in, I believe 'buckets of my own blood' was the phrase."

Galloway lifted her head when she heard the springs of his mattress creak and her eyes followed him as he moved to the window, peering out through the blinds. "So what gives, Sirius? Why do you want to hunt all the sudden if it's something you think I should stop?"

He shrugged and said, "I seem to have found some enjoyment in it as well."

"Is that so?" she responded dryly, laying her head back down. She wondered what enjoyment he had found; hunting wasn't exactly the kind of hobby that was consistently a joy to undertake. 

She didn't hear him walk across the thin carpet.

Sirius looked down at her and smiled, hands in his pockets. "Yes. It all seems like so much fun, getting bitten by vampires every third Tuesday of the month, playing with werewolves, gossiping with ghosts and whatever else it is that Hunters do."

Galloway's mouth dropped open in amusement, then she rolled her eyes. "No."

He raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"No. That's not why you're suddenly so interested." She propped herself up onto her elbows as he sat next to her on the bed, his hip pressing into the side of hers. "So why do you care about some skin-walker in Edgewood?"

Sirius tilted his head in consideration, eyes narrowing so that his ink black lashes shaded them, turning the color from sapphire to midnight blue. "I don't. But you do."

Galloway snorted again, but the sound was a little unsteady. "Says who? I hunt because I actually do think it's fun, remember?"

"You hunt for a lot of reasons, Galloway. But you haven't been lately. And I think I know what the problem is."

Her heart sank a little and, nervously, she asked, "What exactly would that problem be?"

He couldn't have guessed that sharing this with him made Galloway feel too connected to him. That she was avoiding it so that she didn't have to let him into this. Into the only area of her life that she still felt was truly hers, could he have?

She sighed. It wasn't that she would mind if Sirius happened to hunt, too. It just felt more personal, more intimate, when he said blatantly that he wanted to hunt with her. That he wanted her to hunt with him.

Hunting was something that had taken on a sacred quality to her. It was something that mattered, regardless of how futile it sometimes felt. It was like letting an interloper into the temple—a temple only those chosen few knew about. Galloway, despite the fact that he was already a part of the supernatural world, felt like she was giving away a secret that didn't belong only to her.

Sirius smiled. "You got jumped by that vamp and it freaked you out. I think you're a little scared."

Galloway laughed out loud, the sound escaping from sheer relief. What he thought was about the furthest thing from the truth there was. Grinning now, she asked, "You think that I'm afraid to start hunting again? Me? Because of some cut-rate Dracula in Montana?"

"Because said cut-rate Dracula damn near tore your throat out," Sirius reminded her, nodding. She jumped when his fingers traced lightly over the teeth marks still visible on her neck.

Galloway laughed again, the sound a little more breathless, and leaned away from his touch. "You're wrong."

He snapped his fingers. "Your denial only proves my point."

"Is it denial if it's just the truth?" she mused, a smile still dancing around her mouth. "I'm not afraid to hunt again, Sirius."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could reach out, grab them and put them back. Because it was much more preferable for Sirius to think she was afraid than for him to know why she really didn't want to hunt.

Not only because of her more than mixed feelings concerning him, but because, inevitably, he'd find out why she did it for real. She'd let something slip, or he would figure it out. He wasn't an idiot.

And he'd learn all of her nasty little secrets sooner rather than later. 

Or never, as Galloway would prefer since secrets were what had kept her alive and relatively free over the decades. Though, she grimaced, only relatively.

But, thankfully, Sirius still seemed disinclined to believe her. He tugged lightly at her ponytail, making her swat at his hand, and smirked. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. But I think this hunt will do you some good."

"Oh?" Galloway raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

He leaned closer and whispered, "You have to get back on the horse sometime. Why not in Edgewood, New Mexico?"

Galloway rolled her eyes at him, then closed them with a dramatic sigh. "Fine. We can go to Edgewood."

"How do you kill a skin-walker anyway?"

Still with her eyes closed, she answered, "There are some theories that say skin-walkers, werewolves and shifters are all kind of in the same family. So that means they all have one thing in common."

"And what would that be?" Sirius' breath brushed against her cheek, and she opened her eyes to find his face inches from hers.

Her breath got lodged in her throat as she studied the blue of his eyes before she smiled sweetly. "Silver bullets. You put one in a skin-walker's heart, they're done."

Sirius' eyes flicked up to the ceiling, then back down to hers with an irritated sigh. "I can't touch silver, Galloway. Not without getting burned."

Her smile widened. "Who said I'm trusting you with a gun?"

"Cute," Sirius growled. "I'm serious."

"Nice to meet you," she said, trying desperately to keep a straight face. He growled again, this time a little more forcefully.

"So you can't touch the bullets. You don't have to," she finally said. "Actually, you would probably be more useful luring this thing out since you turn into a wolf. That's one of the more common forms for skin-walkers to take."

She pushed lightly at his shoulder, wanting to get up.

But Sirius didn't let her. At least, not all the way. She managed to sit up, bringing herself even closer to him in the process then froze when his hand skimmed down her waist. With an vexed sigh, she said, "I thought we were done with this game?"

"Now that hurts, sweetheart. It really does." Sirius smiled wickedly. "Who says I'm playing games?"

"Me!" she snapped. "The rules. Pick one! Better yet, listen to one."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Right. Rules. So you'll break the rules with me in one way, but not another? Now you're just being contrary."

She lay back down, a hand going to cover her eyes. "You said it yourself, Sirius. Hunting's technically not against the rules. So really, one of these things is not like the other."

"You're right," Sirius sighed. "But one of them is way more fun."

She gasped when he kissed her quickly, then got up.

Galloway narrowed her eyes at him. "You need to knock that off."

He grabbed a jacket and opened the door, grinning at her over his shoulder. "Why don't you make me?"

Then he left and she flopped back onto the bed and muttered, "Maybe a silver bullet or two will make you."

Then she sighed, knowing that that was a ridiculously empty threat.