Night Hunter

by Cathy McDavid

  "Do it. Now."

  He blew on her again and followed it up with a single lick of his tongue. "I might. But first, tell me how you really feel about me."

  "I ... I ..." She whimpered when he inserted the very tip of one finger inside her and then removed it.

  "I like you a lot, and I think we have a possibility of a future together," she rambled in one long sentence.

  "Good, but not quite good enough." He tongued her between the legs one last time and stood. "You'll have to do better."

  "Damn you, Nick."

  He silenced her with a kiss while unbuckling his own jeans. Reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, he pulled out a condom, then tossed the wallet onto the floor. He stepped back, shucked out of his clothes, and put on the condom.

  Gillian slumped against the door, her legs parted, her lips moist, and her rose-tipped breasts peeking out from beneath her disheveled shirt.

  Damn, but he was one lucky man.

  "Tell me you love me," he said and circled her waist with his hands.

  "I'm not quite there yet." Her eyes stared into his and gleamed with a feral hunger that set his already boiling blood on fire.

  "How 'bout I get you there and then you tell me." "Get me there first."

  Nick lifted her off the floor, lowered her onto his throbbing cock, and preceded to get them both there as fast as he could. She sped the process along by wrapping her legs around his middle and tangling her fingers in his hair.

  Gillian came first, mere seconds ahead of him. As he spilled into her, she brought her mouth to his and said, "I love you, I love you, I love you," against his lips.

  Gillian knocked on Nick's apartment door. A moment later, it opened.

  "Morning." Charlie's greeting lacked his customary perkiness.

  "You look terrible. Are you all right?" She hadn't intended to be so blunt, but his haggard appearance took her aback.

  He stepped aside to let her in. "Sleeping all night on a lumpy couch isn't good for a man of my advanced age."

  "I'm sorry. It's my fault." Gillian had no idea what time Nick left her condo. She'd fallen asleep with him in her bed and woke up alone six hours later. "I shouldn't have let Nick drive me home last night."

  She really shouldn't have, for Charlie's sake, but she was secretly glad she did.

  He looked her up and down before shutting the door. "You appear in good spirits this morning, as does Nick. I guess one night of lousy sleep is worth it if you two made up."

  "We weren't fighting."

  "Have you had breakfast? Nick's cooking pancakes. Stevie's in the kitchen with him."

  "How's she doing this morning?"

  "Pretty good, considering everything she's been through."

  "It's going to take some time. She has a lot of adjustments to make. Losing her mother, her home, her friends. Living in a new place and having a new parent. Plus, she has the rest of her life mapped out, or at least the next twenty-five years, and the responsibility of being the next Huntsman. That's a huge load for anyone to handle, much less a girl of eight."

  Charlie gazed at her, tired. "You done spouting psychology again? Because I could use some breakfast."

  "What is it with everyone lately?" Gillian huffed and followed Charlie into the kitchen. "I do not constantly spout psychology."

  The aroma of pancakes and bacon shut her up.

  "Morning!" Nick took a break from cooking to give her a quick kiss on the lips. "How do you like your bacon, soft or crisp?"

  "Medium." She went over to the dining table

  where Stevie sat with Charlie. "Hi, Stevie. I'm Gillian. Do you remember me from last night?"

  She nodded, albeit hesitantly. "Are you Nick's girlfriend?"

  "I am. I'm also his Synsar. Do you know what that is?"

  "Someone who helps the Huntsman. The Ancients told me. They said I'd have one when the time was right."

  "You will."

  Stevie's gaze traveled from Gillian to Nick. "Is my Synsar going to be my boyfriend and am I going to have to kiss him?"

  Gillian laughed. "No. My father was Jonathan's Synsar. Jonathan was Nick's predecessor. He and my father were good friends."

  "Your dad was a Synsar, too?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "So if you and Nick have a kid, will he be my Synsar?"

  "Um. .." Gillian's cheeks grew warm under Stevie's, Charlie's, and Nick's simultaneous scrutiny. "I don't think it's really up to us." She glanced around for a handy distraction. "Anything interesting on the news this morning?"

  Nick had placed a small portable TV on the end of the counter. He had it tuned to the TV-7 morning news show but muted the volume, she guessed in deference to Stevie's sensitive emotional state should the station run a story on her mother's death.

  "Usual stuff," he said in a tone that led Gillian to believe the station did indeed run a story on Amaia and possibly the mysterious disappearance of her daughter.

  Gillian poured orange juice for everyone and set out the dishes. There wasn't enough room at the twoperson dining table, so she and Nick stood at the counter and ate.

  "What's on the agenda for today?" she asked.

  "Charlie's going to find out what he can on Stevie's mother's body," Nick answered in a low voice.

  "How?"

  "I'm not sure. He's got some ideas. If we have to, we can contact Stevie's grandmother in El Paso, pretend to be with the coroner's office, suggest they call someone and arrange to have the body shipped back, then give them the number."

  "You might want to take her shopping." Gillian studied Stevie. "She's going to need some things. Clothes, shoes, a hairbrush, toys."

  "Fake papers," Nick added.

  "Seriously?"

  "I can't go through legal channels for obvious reasons. If I'm going to pass her off as my daughter or foster child, I'll need documents. A birth certificate or some kind of guardianship papers. Whatever Charlie can finagle."

  "You make it sound like all you have to do is pick up the phone and place an order. One phony birth certificate, please," she mimicked.

  "It's not much harder than that if you know the right people to call."

  "I was joking."

  "I'm not. We live in Arizona. A border state. Fake documents are big business."

  Gillian was aware there were people crossing the border without green cards. But she'd never thought about it in terms of business.

  "We'll have to move soon, too," Nick said around his last bite of pancake. "Get a bigger place. She can't stay in the spare bedroom, not with all the junk I have piled up. And we're too close to her old neighborhood. Someone is bound to recognize her sooner or later."

  "I suppose you're right." Gillian's last bite of pancake went down like a piece of jagged rock.

  Where would Nick and Stevie move? And how far away from her?

  "I was thinking of someplace midway between ASU and the TV station," he said. "So neither of us has too far to drive to work."

  "Neither of us?"

  "You're coming with us." It wasn't a question.

  Gillian didn't respond. Not because she wasn't sure how to but because something on the TV had caught her attention. She pointed with her fork. "Look."

  On the TV's small screen flashed a shot of Celeste standing on the street outside the PhoenixExhibitionCenter. Nick turned up the volume.

  "-art show starting tomorrow," Celeste said into the microphone. "A team of specialists has been retained to locate and hopefully eliminate the source of the mysterious and offensive odor permeating the building."

  Behind Celeste, several unmarked white vans were lined up at the service entrance in the rear of the ExhibitionCenter. Technicians in blue jumpsuits, hoods, and masks carried, dragged, or pushed equipment from the vans through the service entrance.

  "Celeste," one of the coanchors back at the station said, "what impact is this mysterious odor and cleanup campaign going to have on the art show?"

  After a beat, Celeste answered, "Well, Shawn, a
spokeswoman for the management staff assures us the art show will open tomorrow as scheduled. This popular annual event is attended by thousands of individuals throughout Arizona as well as southern California, New Mexico, and even Colorado, with a portion of the proceeds going toward a scholarship program supporting aspiring artists."

  "So ticket holders out there have nothing to worry about, is that right?" the coanchor asked.

  Behind Celeste, more vehicles pulled in and parked behind the vans. Small groups of people wearing business suits huddled together, engaging in animated, if not downright agitated, conversations.

  "That's what we're told, Shawn. The show will open tomorrow morning at eight o'clock and continue through six o'clock Sunday evening. Tickets are still available for both days."

  The scene switched back to the station where Shawn and his attractive coanchor launched into another, unrelated story.

  Nick muted the volume again and said in a low voice, "I think our shopping plans just went to hell in a handbasket."

  "What are we going to do?" Gillian asked.

  "Head to the ExhibitionCenter."

  "Can I come, too?" Stevie said from the table.

  "'Fraid not, sweetie." Nick went over and gave her syrup-covered cheek a wipe with his napkin.

  "But I need to learn how to be a Huntress."

  "You have plenty of time for that. Don't worry. But right now, Gillian and I have a lot of work to do."

  "Be careful."

  "We will."

  Gillian watched the interaction between Nick and Stevie and marveled at how quickly they'd developed a rapport. She'd been right about Nick: He was going to make a great dad. And wrong about thinking they should turn Stevie over to the authorities. The girl was far better off with Nick, someone who truly cared about her and her welfare, than in state-provided foster homes. Gillian only wished she'd been half as fortunate after she'd lost her parents.

  "I'll stay here and watch Stevie today," Charlie offered.

  "Thanks." Nick started to grab his keys off the counter, then stopped and turned to Gillian. "Can we take your car? That way I can leave mine for Charlie and Stevie."

  "Sure." She nodded.

  Now that they'd switched to creature-hunter mode, her nerves were humming, and her pulse was racing. A few minutes later they headed out the door and down the stairs.

  "What will happen if that team of specialists finds the female before we do?" she asked when they reached her car.

  "They won't."

  "You can't be sure."

  "I have to be sure." Nick yanked his door open and climbed into the passenger seat. "Now drive. Fast." When they, were on the road, he asked, "What size jumpsuit do you wear?"

  "He took the girl home with him." Miguel sat on the bottom step of the basement stairs, stuffing the food Cadamus had brought for him into his mouth. He'd returned only minutes earlier from his latest errand. "She's there, now."

  "Good."

  The news that the Huntsman found his successor pleased Cadamus enormously. The Ancients must know there would be need for a future hunter. And that meant Cadamus was sure to locate the last female before the Huntsman, and impregnate her.

  Good news, indeed.

  Cadamus strutted around the basement of his sanctuary. Midday was approaching. He should rest for the coming night, but he was unable to relax. The female called to him, the scent of her pheromones strong in the air, and his body responded with a will of its own.

  Tonight, he would mate. Tomorrow, or the next day, he would face the Huntsman and seal both their fates.

  "What will happen to me when you're gone?" Miguel asked, finishing the last bit of his food.

  "I do not know," Cadamus grumbled.

  "Will the Dark Ancients take care of me?"

  Such an absurd question. Cadamus turned his back on the boy, dismissing him.

  "Please."

  He felt the boy's hand, small and gentle, on his wing. "You will have to take care of yourself," he said over his shoulder.

  "May I serve your children?"

  Cadamus swung around to face Miguel, who stared up at him beseechingly. The only human to ever be unafraid of him. "Why would you do that?"

  "To repay you."

  Cadamus had never touched a human out of kindness. He did so now, extending his hand and awkwardly patting Miguel on the head. It felt strange but not altogether distasteful.

  "Yes. You may serve my children, if that is your choice."

  "You should sleep now," Miguel said.

  The boy was right. Without another word, Cadamus retreated to his customary resting place on the floor by the wall. Sitting cross-legged, he encased himself in his wings, forming a cocoon. Sleep, however, continued to elude him.

  Some minutes later he felt the boy's presence beside him. Only when Cadamus laid his hand on the boy's thin back was he at last able to drift off.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  "Duck!" Nick said and pushed Gillian onto the hard asphalt. Throwing himself down beside her, he flung an arm over her waist and dragged her with him behind a low block wall. "Don't move and don't make a sound," he whispered in her ear. "No matter what happens."

  She did as she was told.

  As the cluster of golden particles, all that were left of the third and remaining female creature, floated up toward the night sky, four security guards charged from around the corner of the building, scanning the area with theirr high-powered flashlights.

  Gillian tensed when one of the beams swept the air mere inches above theirr heads, and lingered momentarily before it finally moved on.

  "Did you see which way they went?" one of the guards hollered.

  "No, but they can't be far. Let's split up. Ron, you and Hector take the south side, Larry and I will take the north."

  How long did they have, Nick wondered, until Ron and Hector found them? He and Gillian couldn't stay where they were. Neither could they run to her car parked three blocks away. Their plan to eliminate the female creature had gone off without a hitch ... up until the end.

  They'd not put enough thought into their escape plan once the job was done.

  Between the crews and vendors setting up the art exhibits and the so-called specialists hired to find and remedy the source of the smell, the PhoenixExhibitionCenter had been overrun with people all day. Rather than sneak inside, Nick and Gillian decided to wait and see if all the commotion frightened the female creature and drove it out of its hiding place in search of a new one.

  Their long shot paid off.

  Not thirty minutes ago, right as the ExhibitionCenter was closing for the night, the female creature crawled out of a drainpipe on the back side of the building. Nick and Gillian were waiting, having staked out the most likely places from where the female creature would emerge.

  Killing it had been easy. Unfortunately, its dying screams had alerted the security guards, who came running, leaving Nick and Gillian in serious danger of being caught.

  The low wall behind which they hid rose up to join with a wrought-iron fence too high and too precarious for them to scale. Their best bet was to make a mad dash across the large circular driveway leading away from the service entrance and to the street near where Celeste had filmed her report that morning. Once on the street, Nick and Gillian could sneak behind buildings and maybe get away.

  Raising his head slowly, Nick peered over the top of the wall. One of the guards was heading in their direction, his flashlight beam aimed in front of him. Nick and Gillian had at most one minute before they were discovered.

  Only one guard, Nick reminded himself. The odds probably wouldn't get any better. He lifted himself to his knees and prepared to spring.

  Gillian cranked her head around, her eyes silently asking him what the hell he was doing.

  He inclined his head in the direction of the guard and whispered, "I'll distract him, you run to the car."

  Her eyes told him she thought he'd lost his mind, but her tiny nod assured him she'd follow instruc
tions.

  The guard came closer, his footsteps thudding on the asphalt. Suddenly, Nick heard a different sound, the rustling of wings. Gillian heard it, too. They both looked up to see a black shadow streak across the sky, land on the roof, and disappear behind a small communications tower.

  "Shit," Nick exclaimed.

  "Who's there?" called the guard.

  In the next instant, all hell broke loose.

  Nick leapt out from behind the wall, startling the distracted security guard and landing a right hook to the man's chin. The guard staggered backward, dropping his flashlight and reaching for his gun. Nick was faster. His shoe connected solidly with the man's groin.

  With a grunt, the security guard doubled over, clutching his injured privates with both hands. Nick grabbed the fallen flashlight and with only the teeniest stab of guilt, brought it down on the man's head. He toppled like a fallen tree and lay on the asphalt.

  Nick turned to discover Gillian still standing there. "You were supposed to run for the car," he snapped.

  "I didn't want-"

  "Let's go! Now." He grabbed her arm.

  Not waiting to see if more security guards were coming, the two of them tore across the driveway, only to come to a grinding halt when they hit the locked service entrance.

  "Hurry!" Nick hollered and pushed Gillian toward a chain-link fence.

  "I can't climb this."

  "You're going to have to."

  He grabbed her by the waistband of her jeans and tossed her at the fence. She automatically dug her fingers into the spaces between the links and held on. Before she could protest, he planted his hands on her ass and boosted her higher.

  Sirens wailed in the distance. High-beam security lamps mounted to the building's rooftop flashed on, bathing them in bright fluorescent light.

  The fence rattled and shook as Gillian awkwardly scaled the top and swung a leg over to the other side. Nick didn't wait for her and started climbing the fence. He reached the top just as she swung her other leg over and began carefully climbing down the other side. She was taking too damn long.

  "Sorry," he said and gave her an unceremonious shove.

  She dropped like a stone the last five feet, landing on her feet.