"We’re not the bad guys; we don’t do this for fun, and though it can be said some satisfaction does come from the job, it is not always enjoyed. We are not the good guys; we aren’t always fighting for justice or peace. We aren’t evil, but there isn’t all good to us. We are the hunters of things that go bump in the night while going bump ourselves. We are monsters, who hunt the monsters. Our alliances could soon be warpaths; our only true alliances are to ourselves.”
“We do not double cross, but we will not be crossed. We are daughters and sons of the Umbree, of the supernatural; everything that does not exist, but refuses to be ignored.”
“I am not a leader; I am but a follower who leads. They are not my followers, nor do they lead. We are the hunters and the hunted, the slayers and the slain.”
“I do not ask the approval of this council, we do not need it, but you will know we are out there. If you keep to the rules of the great game, then you’ll never see us at all, but for those of you among the ranks who think the rules of ages mean nothing, you will know us well.”
“We are not mercenaries, nor infantry for hire; we are warriors, moved by our beliefs and passions. You will not break us, you cannot hide from us, and you will never find us, but we are watching.”
“We are the warriors of those who cannot fight, those who will not fight and champions over those who dare challenge us.”
“We are the Eventide Guardians, and we do not need your protection or approval, only your respect, and acknowledgment.” She finished reciting in the mirror, watching her breathing and posture as she delivered her well thought out speech.
At its end, there was a sound of clapping and she turned around to see her husband, standing in the doorway behind her. She hated when she couldn’t see him in the mirror, one of the perks and flaws of their marriage.
“Very well done my love, but you are not coming with me to the council,” he said, his voice even and calm. She turned to him, the beginnings of rage shaping her stance from a professional to a threatening one.
“WHAT!” she demanded and he held his hand up, walking away from her.
“Oh, you are not dismissing me like that Dante. WHY NOT! You promised!” She stomped her feet after him.
“Because perhaps some secrets are best kept as secrets for the time being. The Eventide Guardians will one day have their say, but that is not today.” He answered her and Natashia continued to storm after him.
“While time is not of the essence for you, may I remind you, those mortals, werewolves, and Metas do not live forever!” She barked, wildly gesturing as if the people she spoke for were there in the room.
He shook his head with a deep sigh. “No, but they will live long enough. Now I am leaving and that is final.”
Dante’s eyes blazed a red flash, warning her to not push him any farther on the subject. Natashia knew that he was already in a foul mood for being summoned, so she nodded in understanding. This would be a conversation for another night.
She returned to her room, standing in front of her mirror. She put her hands on her hips, her lips pulled back to reveal elongated canines. She rather enjoyed the ability to control when they were present or not.
“We are the hidden weapon of a powerful lord, who wishes not to show his hand too soon, but one day, his half-dead wife will force that hand into the light of the night. We are not playing fair either.”