Not Quite Hunter

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Not Quite Hunter Page 2

by Kaye Draper


  I bared my teeth and lifted my hand, slicing his shirt open on the way up, pressing the blade under his jaw, ready to slit his fucking throat. "Don't underestimate how much I want to see you bleed," I hissed, my feral saber-toothed cat ready to bite and claw.

  He moved like water pouring from a pitcher, all smooth and rippling. The knife nicked his throat and I pulled my arm back slightly in reflex. The wooden bracelets on his wrist clacked—hidden weapons. The kind he preferred. Long fingers cupped the back of my head, threading though my hair and pulling, tilting my head back. "I'm bleeding for you right now," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin, his lips brushing my ear. "Is that all you need to make yourself feel better about loving someone as dirty and stained as me?"

  I dropped the knife and gripped his hip and shoulder, digging my claws in, drawing more blood. Something in me snapped, and I lost out to my animal nature. Angel was nearly the same height as me, his lean build not much broader than mine. I pulled him to me easily and he tilted his head to the side in acceptance as I licked away the blood welling from his throat in long swipes. My hard dick pressed against his through the thin layers of clothing that separated us. Mine, my inner cat rumbled, mine, mine, mine.

  Angel.

  A million memories flooded my brain, of all the times the pretty kid had looked out for me. How I'd looked out for him too, in a world where not many people were on our side. When we both knew we were freaks. Outcasts. Of all the times he'd shown me love that my poor, scarred heart just couldn't see or comprehend. He shuddered in my grip, and I understood. He hated himself, just like I did. Hated everything he was. Everything he did just to live, and to keep his mother safe. She was the one other person he loved. And he'd had to choose between her and me when he left me tied up in the whorehouse.

  I understood.

  I knew he did the best he could with a crap situation. He left me a way to escape. And he knew I'd fix everything in the end. He had complete faith in my abilities.

  But that didn't make it hurt any less. Because I'd bared everything to him in a way I never had before. And I still wasn't even sure if that part had been genuine to him, or all just part of his plan. Angel was more dangerous to my wellbeing than any fiend I'd ever fought.

  The wounded, feral, life-wary part of me said we couldn't trust him. We would forever question his every motive. He'd hurt us again. Easily. Because he was like an extension of my own body, a piece of my stupid, traitorous, pounding heart.

  I pulled away, shoving the animal instincts aside with the brutal force of will that had kept me alive for so long. Planting my hands flat on his smooth chest, ignoring the way his heart thundered beneath my palms, I shoved.

  Angel stumbled back, taken by surprise. He wasn't as strong as me, physically. And he'd thought he was winning this game.

  His gold eyes were full of something raw and desperate. Then it was gone. He straightened, turning in a slow, unconcerned way to get his leather jacket off the back of a chair. "So, the weapons and the tech worked okay?" he said in his low, melodious voice. He ignored, how I'd ruined his shirt. Just zipped up his coat like everything was normal.

  "The earpiece needs work," I said, my voice rough. "But Emerson's got it handled. Everything else was fine." I only now registered, and seriously regretted, that I was standing there in nothing but my underwear. My hard nipples and my wilting erection might as well have been on full display.

  Angel's gold eyes flitted over me and I couldn't tell what he saw, what he thought. He was lost again in that smooth, sly persona that was all slinky siren seduction. "I'll be sure to tell Theo you're…pleased." He winked.

  I wanted to throw my coffee mug at his head. It was heavy enough to do some damage. But then, it was my favorite cup. It would be a shame to ruin it.

  "I wouldn't go so far as pleased," I grumbled.

  One corner of Angel's mouth twitched upward. "I'll be sure to let him know."

  I scoffed as he strode to the door. "Like he gives a fuck."

  Angel glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. "I think you'd be surprised. Theo might be…frustrating…sometimes. But we have a lot in common—he knows what he wants, and he does what he has to do to get it." He raised a brow and gave me a significant look that I really didn't like.

  "Why are you working for him?" I asked again.

  He reached for the door handle, looking away as he opened the door. "Because he seems to have the mistaken belief that I'm important to you."

  I stared at the door in complete confusion long after he'd left, my nose still filled with the alluring scent of home, and water, and magic.

  Theo was keeping Angel on his payroll…because he thought I actually liked Angel? Because he knew we were childhood friends? What kind of fucking sense did that make?

  I stared at the plate of food on the counter. It was probably poisoned or drugged or something. For all I knew, Angel was only here to sneak some magic into my food that would leave me vulnerable and fucked over again.

  I sighed, sat down at the table, and ate the best food I'd ever tasted. My chest ached, and my hands shook. But I knew it wasn't because of poison.

  At least, not that kind of poison. This poison was completely of my own making, and I choked on it every single fucking day.

  Chapter 3

  I slammed the side door of the transport I'd made out of an old, modified camper. Fin and Emerson were inside, ready to go. I had my knives in my leg holsters and my handguns stowed by the driver's seat. Theo's people were loading extra weapons, ammo, and supplies into the reinforced storage bin on the back of the RV, under the watchful eye of the human's creepy, not-so-human butler. I didn't know what the tall, blond parody of a pre-rift British servant was, but he'd once threatened to fill my lungs with water he drew from the air around us so…I was going with at least cur. Maybe even full fiend. How he ended up working for a human was anyone's guess. Though…given how annoying and persistent the asshole was, I could see Theo wearing the poor guy down until he agreed to serve just to get the human to shut up.

  If Theo thought that tactic was going to work on me, the little princess was going to be sorely disappointed. "You're not going," I said for the hundredth time.

  The human ignored me and opened the door I'd just shut, chucking a small duffel bag inside. "I call shotgun," he said, closing the door again, deaf to Fin's bitching about that being his spot.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the man. He was a few inches shorter than me, so I looked down my nose at him. Humans. They thought they knew everything. They didn't seem to realize how fragile they were. A low-level hum of magic radiated from the guy, but I knew it was all borrowed—charms and spells cast by a real magic user to keep his weak ass safe when he did something stupid. Like insist on accompanying me across the wastelands.

  He ran a hand through his chestnut curls, ruining the carefully styled businessman image. At least he wasn't wearing a suit today. But the designer jeans and crisp button-down were just as bad. "You hired me to do this, because you are obviously afraid your cousin won't make it through the wastes without being attacked." By monsters or humans—he hadn't clarified which he was more afraid of, but I was betting there was at least some risk of an assassination attempt or some other political bullshit. "And you want me to take you—the newly appointed human sovereign of Westhold—right out there into the middle of it. Do you realize what would happen if you died? I'm not taking the blame for that!"

  His honey brown eyes were unwavering, and his compact form showed no tension. He wasn't angry with me. Because he was confident about getting his way. The spoiled little jackass.

  "This is my mission," he reminded me. "I'm the one paying you. And it's my family involved. I'm not going to sit here and twiddle my thumbs."

  I rolled my eyes. "Can you even do anything to defend yourself? Guns? Knives? Throw a punch without breaking your weak little human hand?"

  He arched a brow at me, unamused. "Your worry is touching, Sam.
But I'm not made of glass, I assure you. I know how to throw a punch. You can teach me to shoot a gun or use a knife on the way."

  I ground my teeth together. "I'm not worried about you, asshole. I'm worried about my own damned hide when you get murdered and the humans blame me and my guild and decide they need a public execution to put the curs in their place!"

  He sighed and waved a hand at his butler. "There hasn’t been a public execution in years. Jules?"

  "Yes, Sir," the stiff, immaculate man intoned in a patient voice.

  "Am I leaving here under any sort of coercion?"

  "Certainly not, Sir." He arched a blond brow. "I doubt anyone could coerce you into anything."

  Theo smirked, as if he was proud of his moronic stubborn streak. "So, I'm entering into this trip by my own choice, and nothing that happens to me will be Sam's responsibility, correct?"

  Jules nodded. "I will attest to such, should the need arise. Though," he slid a look my way. "I would prefer not to be faced with the necessity of finding another employer."

  I huffed. "I'm not a fucking bodyguard. I'll try to keep his ass safe from fiends and curs. That's it."

  Ahura came around the end of the camper and draped an arm around my waist, pressing her lush, leather-clad curves against my side. "That's why I'm here, right? To take care of anything else that…pops up? Stop being so overprotective of the human, Sam. Or your mates in there are gonna get jealous." She hiked a thumb back at Fin and Emerson.

  I glared down at her and pointedly removed her arm from my waist, ignoring the inuendo in her words. We'd decided to bring the unsanctioned killer into our guild for this little job as a sort of trial run. She had been good for information the last time we worked for Theo. And she was right—I was used to hunting fiends and curs-gone-bad. Animals. Dealing with people was more her thing. She'd been a people-killer with her old gang. She would, hopefully, be useful if we were attacked by something other than monsters—if we had to defend ourselves against rational, thinking attackers.

  Plus, you know, Fin and Emerson could use all the help we could get to bolster their newbie hunter skills.

  I sighed. While we were standing here arguing, time was ticking. We needed to get to Golding in three days so we could meet Theo's cousin and get her back here before some inaugural bullshit that I had tuned out. We were on a time limit, and I'd rather do most of our traveling in the daylight, when we could see the terrain and all the other threats around us. Headlights were like a beacon out in the uninhabited wastelands, a big 'ol signal screaming "Look! Food!"

  "Fine," I ground out. "But you will listen to me when I tell you to do something." I leaned into the human's space, watching his brown eyes track my movements. "You might be some hot-shit politician here, but out there, you're just a snack."

  He pressed his lips together for a second before replying. "I don't need you to remind me of how weak I am, hunter. I'll do as you say if we're under attack." His lips tilted up into that sly I-know-something-you-don't-know smile that transformed his plain features into something dangerous. "But when it comes to making decisions about anything else, I'm still your sovereign."

  I ignored the little thrill that shot through my gut at the reminder of his status. At first, I'd hated the guy just on principal, dismissed him as a weak human. But the more I interacted with him, the more there was this…hidden edge to him. And it pushed my buttons in ways I just wasn't willing to examine. Fuck my life.

  "Get in the damned vehicle," I said, spinning and stomping off to get behind the wheel.

  There was a scuffle, and I turned to see Theo had somehow won out against Ahura for shotgun. Just fucking great. Now I'd have to endure his attempts at small talk all day.

  "If you talk to me," I said, as I buckled my seatbelt. "I swear to the Gods, I will throw you out the door and pretend you were never with us when the authorities come looking for you."

  He reached back and pulled his duffel bag into the space between our seats, then rummaged around, coming up with a book. I saw the title had something to do with warfare and strategy. "I'll be quiet as a mouse," he promised. But his brown eyes were full of stupid, childish delight. Like he thought this was going to be some grand adventure.

  I sighed.

  It was going to be a long fucking trip.

  "The rest of you asshats ready to go?" I asked, looking up at the rearview mirror.

  Ahura was shuffling cards at the table, while Fin and Emerson divvied up poker chips. Emerson's big brown eyes met mine and he gave me a sickeningly soft smile, like he loved it when I called him names. Fin sighed in exasperation. "Just stop being a fussy mother hen and drive already, Saber," he said, giving me a dismissive wave.

  I might murder them all before we even left town.

  Chapter 4

  The road between Westhold and Golding started out as rough pavement, then degraded to uneven stone and pebbles, before petering out entirely, leaving a long drive through mostly barren wastelands, with questionable route markers meant to help the directionally impaired. The stories and history books said that once, before the rift and the influx of fiends and magic, this area of western America had been covered in forests and vegetation. But now, it was a rolling, treacherous landscape of dry, sifting dirt, boulders, and petrified tree stumps.

  While the markers did exist, they were often destroyed by beasts, vandals, or the unpredictable weather and shifting landscape. And it was common for stretches of the way between the cities to be overtaken by roaming packs of fiends or really desperate thieves. Though, the chance of running into thieves lessened with every mile we put between us and town. Even criminals weren't that stupid.

  We had left the road completely and were well into the wastelands when I called a halt so we could all stretch our legs and get some fresh air. And also so I didn't murder anyone in the RV.

  I jumped down from the camper and stretched my arms over my head, groaning. The going was slow, but it was anything but boring. I had to constantly monitor our speed, watch out for rocks or sand pits that could cause a breakdown, and keep an eye out for monsters. I had enhanced strength, thanks to my defunct shifter genes, but my arms and neck still ached from the tension of gripping the steering wheel and maneuvering the stiff rig over the treacherous terrain. The camper had been heavily modified, with reinforced sides and a better wheel setup for navigating over what amounted to bumpy sand, but it still wasn't easy to drive.

  Theo slid out from the passenger side of the camper and shielded his eyes as he looked around the barren landscape. "I saw a tree a while back. Why didn't we stop there, in the shade?"

  I narrowed my eyes at him across the hood of the hot, ticking camper engine. "Because every fiend within miles probably uses it for shade or hunting ground.

  He shrugged. "Oh."

  I wanted to go over there and shove his damned war strategy book up his stuffy human ass. He hadn't stopped asking me stupid questions since we left. He wanted to know why constantly, like a small child. Why did I use the camper for runs like this? Why did I choose certain weapons? Why did unicorns shimmer when they ran in packs? Why did sandwyrms move toward vibrations, but away from mechanical engine noise? Why didn't I like salami on my sandwich? Then he moved on to the opinion portion of the interview. What did I think about this passage of the stupid book he insisted on reading to me? What was my take on the moral dilemma on page three-hundred and seventy-five?

  When I'd answered the last question about theoretical situations with "I'd shoot them all, shove a copy of that damned book up their asses, and set the corpses on fire," he'd stopped talking to me for a while.

  But it was short lived.

  "Fuck, it's hotter than hell out here," Fin grumbled, meeting me at the side of the camper with a bottle of water and some of the food he'd packed up before we left. We had a very small fridge in the camper, enough to store some meats and perishables. It was usually enough for me to go out hunting alone for several days, but with the butt-ton of people I was dragging
along this time, the perishables wouldn't last long. Especially with Emerson, who needed enough food for three normal sized people. Luckily, we were also well-stocked with dry goods.

  I took the water and food and started in on it in a mechanical way. He was right. It was fucking sweltering out here. But I was used to it. I knew that even though I wasn't particularly hungry or thirsty right this minute, it was always a good idea to cram some sustenance down the gullet.

  Fin smirked up at me. "How you holding up? I'm surprised you haven't shot your co-pilot yet."

  I snorted. "I just don't want to have to clean bits of his brains off my upholstery."

  Fin chuckled. "Sure."

  I lifted an eyebrow at him, and he smirked. "You like it. All that explaining why you're so good at what you do. All that debating and arguing about the right and wrong way to murder people and win wars."

  I rolled my eyes. "No. Absolutely not."

  He reached up a hand in a gesture I knew meant "come here." Bending down, I let him tangle his hands in my hair and draw me in for a quick kiss. "I love it when you get all grumpy and hissy," he said against my lips. "Like a cat in water."

  I growled and snagged his lower lip between my teeth. "Watch it."

  He laughed and I pulled away, straightening to survey the horizon. The worst part about fiends was some of them had ultra-adapted ways of blending in, even here in the dry nothingness of the wastelands. I shifted my feet, wanting to move. I hated sitting still out here.

  I kept an eye on the others as they stretched, and griped, and ate their food, wandering a small distance from the RV. I noticed Ahura never took her curved blades off her belt, even when she was in the camper relaxing. Smart woman. She caught me looking at the weapons and winked. "Maybe I'll let you play with them sometime, cutie pie."

 

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