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Live to Die	By : SerpentsChild Category: A through F > Dark Hunter Views: 1267 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I Do Not Own The Dark-Hunter/Were-Hunter or Dream Hunter Series. It belongs solely to S.K. I make no money from the writing of this fiction

Chapter List
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A/N: I know I KNOW. I shouldn't be starting another story with so many unfinished, but damnit this one's been bugging me to DEATH! I can't even concetrate at work with this one running around in my head breaking things demanding to be written. So i'm doing it! I'm sorry -.-; i'm weak I know. Oh and I do not claim to know the first thing about mobsters and what not. It's a small portion and thats it. sooo yeah on we go to the prequel.
Chicago
December 24th, 1923
The city streets were quiet, only the occasional straggler about on the streets. It was the day before Christmas, the day when even the famous mob bosses were relaxing at home with their families. One such family was far into their celebrating. The Delfono’s were a loud and rambunctious group none to be outdone by the other. Among the members there sat the few women allowed. Michel “The Butcher” Delfono (the boss of this particular group), sat between two of them.
To his right, his wife Sarah. She was as beautiful as she was deadly. Long raven hair was pulled up into a bun resting at the base of her slender pale neck. Her lithe body was set towards her husband whom she loved dearly. Her laugh was musical and her bright green eyes shone with her mischievous nature. She was wild for her days, that could be what attracted the mob boss to her to begin with.
On his left, his seventeen year old daughter, Amara sat quietly. As beautiful as her mother was Amara was even more so. Her hair was her mothers but she inherited her fathers light blue eyes, almost grey. They held such a mystery that many men had sought to claim her as their own. Her father put a stop to that instantly. Her smile was bright and had been known to draw them in like lambs to the slaughter. Unlike her mother she was quiet and resigned. The perfect image of a good wife. But like her mother she was deadly when she needed to be.
Michel, always aware of what his child faced began simply with body guards. But even as a small child she had given them the slip, so he gave his daughter the tools necessary to survive. She knew intimately every weapon her father owned, as well as many that he didn’t. Guns and knives were her weapons of choice and she even carried at least one with her at all times. Tonight was no exception. Even as the boss celebrated with his men and family she was constantly aware.
She glanced about the room crossing her legs carefully as her mothers laughter drew in more of her fathers men who soon were laughing with her. Amara was glad they could be so cheerful and carefree but something bothered her. She stood her father barely noticing her absence though her mother watched her with a careful gaze. Her walk drew more then one gaze, she been told she had the grace of a gazelle. And that’s why her father would joke and call her Amara “the Animal” Delfono. Somehow the name stuck. Now she headed into the kitchen were a short man who was slightly balding stood.
She’d grown up around this man, one of her original body guards. He was also her first friend. A man she considered family, but the man was always nervous, but that could always do with the scars he had and how he’d gotten them. He’d suffered a lot but the guys, they never saw it that way; they just saw a scared old man.
He nodded nervously to her and glanced at the side door that was mostly blocked by a large cabinet of her mothers. She got that feeling again, that something bad was about to happen. But she knew she shouldn’t worry, this place, while it seemed just like a simple house, was a fortress. And only a few people knew how to get in and out without anyone else finding out. She offered Archie a smile which, with that same nervous look he returned it.
She moved to walk farther into the room only to have Archie step forward to block her,
“Hey there Animal, why don’t you head to bed. Santa ain’t comin’ with you awake.” she rolled her eyes at him.
“Arc, I haven’t believed in that old man for years.” she laughed her fears momentarily forgotten. His smile was gone now,
“really girl you get on up to bed…” he looked quickly towards the door again and a shiver went down her spine.
“Archie.. What did you do?” she asked sadly a moment before something hit her hard. She hit the floor with a thud as her head spun and she tried to push herself to her feet as footsteps filed past her. She had nearly succeeded when she was dragged to her feet. The partying in the other room stopped abruptly and her mothers shrill cry reached her ears. She could hear men reaching for their guns at least until a gun was pressed firmly into her side.
Her father cursed and ordered his men down. This had been a long time in coming. Whoever was holding her tossed her to the floor as his men quickly took control of the room. Amara was pulled into her mothers arms even as her vision threatened to go black.
It seemed like hours as men and women were dragged from the room. Amara cringed at each scream followed by shots, then silence. Her mother shook as she held her. Finally only a few of her fathers men, her and her parents were still alive. She felt her mother tense and a hand sliding through her hair made her cringe. A solid thud of flesh meeting flesh made her look up. Her father had slugged the man touching her, a moment later a hail of gunfire made her scream out. It was as if everything had slowed down. Her fathers blood rained down on her body as his own hit the ground.
She could only stare her eyes filling with tears. A moment later her mother was ripped from her arms and dragged from the room. Amara tried to follow her but she was forced back to the floor. This time her death didn’t come quick, she heard her screams as they forced themselves on her. Amara’s stomach threatened to revolt. She couldn’t stand it. Then it hit her. The knife it was carefully concealed in her garter. Carefully she reached for it only to have her hand pulled away and the knife taken from her.
She looked up to see Archie holding it with a sad look on his face, “I told you to go to bed Amara. I would have locked you in your room and you wouldn’t be facing death…” she glared at him before pushing from the floor and attacking him. He panicked the moment before he plunged the knife into her stomach. Her eyes widened in pain and surprise. Archie’s own eyes reflected a sadness she couldn’t quite understand,
“Why?” she asked quietly, “We trusted you… you were family..” she coughed and was terrified to find her own blood flowing over her lips. He let go of the knife and she stumbled back into one of her fathers guards arms. He carefully lowered her to the floor even as her eyes glared daggers at archie,
“I swear I’ll kill you for this you bastard…” she roared but only laughter met her words. Archie’s new boss stepped forward,
“You won’t be around to do much of anything.” he kicked the guard away from her and his men dragged him back. The man crouched and reached forward his hand wrapping around the knife as if to remove it. But he only twisted it causing her to cry out in pain. Then he removed it.
“Enjoy your time in hell.” he said before the knife was plunged into her heart.
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Live to Die