Hunter Deceived

by Nancy Corrigan

  Ian jumped back. He pressed a hand over his chest, the same spot where Calan’s dual-faced tattoo labeled him as a Huntsman. No doubt Ian had the same.

  Ian inclined his head. “Fine.”

  “Good.” Calan faced her. “And Harley?”

  “What?”

  “Stay in the house and call me home if you have need for me. Do not engage the redcap again. He lies.”

  “But Allie—”

  “We will discuss the female and what we can do for her once I return. Understand?”

  She nodded, knowing it was the best she’d likely get.

  He bent and brushed his lips over hers. “Be safe, Harley. I have given up my future, my soul, and my hope for you. I love you. Do not forget that.”

  Calan pivoted on his heel and stormed away before she could say anything in return. The portal to the Underworld opened. He disappeared in it, along with his horse. The shimmering wall faded with a wash of hot air laden with the stench of sulfur.

  She studied the spot where the doorway had been and couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d never get the chance to say those words back to him. Time was against them. It had been since the moment they’d met.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Calan leaned against the rough-cut wall of the tunnel leading to the Huntsmen’s home in the Underworld. Their small piece of Hell was a private retreat only the Huntsmen or Arawn could enter. It was also where their hounds and horses took shelter when not with their masters.

  He’d always found peace here, but not today. The anger and anxiety he’d brought with him didn’t fade in the face of the comforting scents of his sanctuary. He’d left his home in the human world with only a newbie Hunter to protect her. Granted, Ian had taken to his new role with a ferocity and dedication Calan hadn’t expected from the modern male who’d never used a sword before. The human Huntsman would protect Harley with all he had. Plus, she could reach for Calan, yet when danger had presented itself…she hadn’t.

  Calan roared and slammed a balled fist against the wall. His knuckles cracked. He punched it a second time, and the bones splintered. A third, and his hand hung useless for a heartbeat before the healing process began. He savored the pain while it lasted. It did nothing to alleviate his guilt and frustration, however.

  He’d had the perfect opportunity to kill Raul. Harley had stopped him from taking it. He understood her motives even if he didn’t agree with them, yet understanding didn’t change the outcome. Raul had walked away. The redcap would continue to create sluaghs that were invisible to the Hunt, and he would continue to come after Harley—the woman Calan loved above all others.

  He roared his frustration.

  “I see my beloved son has finally decided to come home.”

  Calan pivoted on his heel and came face-to-face with the Lord of the Underworld. Over seven feet tall with power and stealth at his fingertips, Arawn was the ultimate warrior. He’d passed on his powerful genes to his children, but their human mothers gave them an even greater gift—a tie to the innocent species the gods tried to protect.

  With stark-white hair, silver eyes and deeply tanned skin, Arawn didn’t look like the devil many humans envisioned. He could be, though. One thought, and his darker side emerged—a hulking ten-foot monstrosity with leather wings, fangs and claws. Today, Arawn stood before Calan in his natural form. However, the fury stamped on Arawn’s harsh features warned it might not last long.

  Arawn shook his head. “And you’ve lost your mind. You had to have. It’s the only explanation for your foolish choice in a mate.”

  “You know about Harley?”

  “I might not be able to touch the human world, but my horses act as my eyes. Death told me of your mistake.”

  Calan ignored the disdain in Arawn’s voice and led Death into the bowels of Hell. His sire followed, his snarls increasing in volume with each foot they traversed. At the end of the hallway, Calan stopped at the ledge. His holdings stood in the center of the valley below.

  The stone fortress resembled a patchwork of blocks with jutting extensions and turrets. Gardens, overflowing with life, surrounded it. A bubbling brook snaked its way across the valley to the small lake at the end.

  Although he couldn’t see it from where he stood, a meadow spread out behind the massive structure. His hounds lounged there and acted as guardians for the misplaced souls they’d collected over the ages. From time to time, the angels collected those ready to move on. Many stayed. Calan didn’t understand why, nor did he question it. They were welcome in the paradise fields. The rolling acres were beautiful. Peaceful.

  He too longed to walk along the paths weaving their way through the valley as he’d done in ages past but wouldn’t without Harley by his side. She couldn’t come here until she accepted him. He would wait and endure as he’d done for eons and fill his time with his duties, including the one that brought him here today. The quicker he completed his task, the quicker he could return to Harley’s side.

  He slapped his steed’s rump. It trotted down the corridor leading to the fields where the unfortunate humans would find peace. He waited until the darkness swallowed Death’s form, then faced his furious father.

  “Mating Harley was not a mistake.” Calan propped his shoulder against the wall. “You know how easily love can strike. I stumbled upon Harley years ago. She held temptation at bay until she could return and free me.”

  Arawn only raised a lip and let a trickling growl escape. Body tensed, he looked ready to strike.

  Calan pushed from the wall and dropped his hands loosely to the side. “She will not fall as her father did. I will act as her shield, absorbing her rage and harnessing her strengths. She will soar under my influence and become more powerful than any fairy before her.”

  Arawn stepped forward. The smack of his booted foot on the stone floor echoed in the small space. Another thump, and Calan’s anger flared. He would not be intimidated. He matched Arawn’s approach until they were inches apart.

  “Are you so sure of that, my son?”

  Calan dipped his head. “I am sure. I will unleash her from her damning heritage, even if she can never let it go.”

  Arawn grabbed him by his shoulders and tossed him off the ledge overlooking the Huntsmen’s valley. The air rushed by, wafting the scent of campfires around him. It didn’t calm the fury building within him. Calan hit the hardened earth. His breath escaped in a rough grunt. He pushed up, leapt and met Arawn midair.

  Claws dug into Calan’s sides. The tearing of his muscles only fueled his rage. He pierced Arawn’s chest with his own talon-tipped fingers and tore him open, shoulder to gut. Arawn shoved him back. A second time, Calan hit the grass-covered ground. He hopped to his feet and crouched, ready for his sire’s next move.

  Arawn hovered over him, black wings flapping soundlessly. A soft brush of wind danced over Calan’s skin, cooling the blood coating it. The wounds he’d sustained had already healed. Red eyes, no pupil, focused on him. With skin as black as the deepest abyss and blazing white teeth, Arawn resembled the human’s depiction of the devil.

  “You’ve damned yourself, child.” Arawn landed several feet from him in a matching crouch, wings folded at his back. Saliva dripped from his extended canines. “And you’ve damned the Huntsmen.”

  “Never. I have not endured for a millennium to fail now that I’m finally free.”

  Arawn roared and punched him. Calan flew backward and hit the corner of his stone fortress. Crumbling rocks rained down on him. He stood and stretched his arms out to the side. “You want to punish me for falling in love, so be it. I won’t apologize for it.”

  “Why did you have to mate her so quickly?” Arawn’s wings flapped, once, then twice more. “Why couldn’t you have waited until I talked to you?” His wings drooped. “Warned you of the danger she posed.”

  He grew sick of defending her, first to Rhy
s, then to Arawn. She was Calan’s choice, not theirs.

  “Why did you mate Minerva within minutes of meeting her?” He’d heard the story of their mating. Arawn himself had shared it when Tegan had asked how he’d known he was in love. “You just know,” he’d said.

  Arawn’s black, winged body compressed. Tan skin replaced his scaly black covering. The leathery flaps folded in upon themselves, leaving his father’s familiar image before him. No Huntsmen’s mark decorated his chest. He was the center of them, the source of their power and unity. They were his Teulu.

  He shook his head and turned his back on Calan. Arms crossed, Arawn stared at the rolling meadows. Thousands of brightly colored dots floated and weaved over the flowers and tall grass. The pulses danced around the hounds that rolled and raced in endless play.

  Time stretched. Calan waited, knowing his father would eventually say what troubled him.

  “Did you meet her mother?” Arawn finally asked.

  The question caught him off guard. “She died the night I stumbled upon Harley, but somehow she knew what Harley was.” Calan rubbed at his chin. “Or at least she suspected it. The woman kept Harley secluded from the world and safe from the redcaps.”

  He didn’t want to remember how. The sight of the basement had been enough to enrage him, yet he knew it had been part of the reason why Harley had survived.

  “She did know.”

  Calan tensed. “You know who she was?”

  Arawn inclined his head. “And what she is.”

  Present tense. Calan caught the distinction. He narrowed his eyes, not following his father’s hint. “She was human. She had to be. Only the fairies and Huntsmen can walk in the mortal realm.”

  Even the angels were restricted to an ethereal form of mist. They had limited powers and could manipulate the physical world only through small acts of nature, such as the wind that had broken the tree limb ages ago and saved another human female.

  “Oh, she is human. So are her sisters.” Arawn grunted. “All seventeen of them. They are Minerva’s maidens and act as her hand in the mortal world.”

  The goddess of love’s handmaidens. He’d heard of them, but from the humans only. None of the otherworldly creatures he’d met over his long life had ever mentioned Minerva’s reclusive maidens.

  “They are tied to Minerva and carry a piece of her essence, but essentially they are humans who live, love and die as all mortals do,” Arawn went on.

  Calan sucked in a rough breath. “What does that make Harley?”

  “An anomaly.” Arawn glanced at him. His expression remained blank, but his eyes had grown cold. “A soul stuck between Heaven, Hell and madness. All are a part of her, and she can embrace none. She must walk the cracked tightrope between them and not fall.”

  “She won’t. I will be her strength, the one who holds her up. Together we will endure and thrive.”

  Arawn stared at him for an endless moment. “The female loves you.”

  Calan stood next to Arawn, mimicking his stance. Although his father’s words had not been posed as a question, he answered. “Yes, Harley loves me.”

  Arawn closed his eyes. “Has she completed the union?”

  “Not yet. I stopped her when I gave her my half, because I wanted her to see and love both sides of me.”

  A sigh of relief escaped Arawn. “Good.” He glanced at him. “You cannot allow her to finish it. I will speak with the Triad to see if we can undo the mating you have started.”

  The mention of the triple-faceted entity who ruled over all—gods, humans and everything in between—didn’t faze him. His father’s suggestion he break his bond to Harley did, however.

  Calan’s nails lengthened. He used the sharp talons to slam his father against the stone fortress, locking him into place. “You will do no such thing. Harley is mine. There will be no severing of my circle.” He leaned closer and snarled. “My choice, my mate, my love. I won’t allow anyone to take Harley from me.”

  Instead of the rage he expected, pity showed on Arawn’s stark features. The look cut through Calan’s fury. He yanked his claws free and stumbled back. His pulse picked up a quickened beat to match the rough breaths heaving his chest. Arawn’s slumped shoulders and slackened features chilled him. Calan had never seen the male before him—the god of Hell—appear so…defeated.

  “And that is why you will fail, my beloved child.”

  “Why? You cannot tell me such a thing without an explanation.”

  Arawn motioned for them to walk. Calan fell into step beside him. They followed the path to the calm pond. At the edge, Arawn linked his hands behind his back. “I do not blame you. I too made a horrible mistake when I bound Minerva to me. It is in our natures to want to claim the female we’ve chosen to be ours, no matter what our rational minds might tell us.”

  “I will be the mate Harley needs. You do not need to—”

  “Stop. You must listen to me, not fight me.” Arawn faced him. “I have been deceived, and you will suffer for it.”

  Calan tensed. “By whom?”

  Anger replaced the sadness stamped on Arawn’s face. “By everyone!”

  “How?”

  Arawn shook his head. His skin darkened, his body elongated and his spine arched. Moments away from reclaiming his hellish form, Arawn visibly fought it. He trembled, but finally, his breathing slowed and the slip into his darker side reverted, and he returned to his natural form. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and groaned. “The rules got changed. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t. I was fed lies!”

  “What wasn’t supposed to happen, and who lied?”

  Arawn dropped his hands. “Only trust our Teulu, my son. No one else.” He leveled a hard look at him. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Calan slowly dipped his chin. “And Harley will soon be a part of it. You must trust her too.”

  “This has nothing to do with trusting her and everything to do with your choice in loving her.” Arawn’s narrowed eyes focused on him. “Did you not think about how mating a fairy would affect the curse you hold?”

  “I do not bear the curse.” He’d be suffering alongside his siblings if he did.

  Arawn laughed. The bitter sound cut through Calan. A sense of trepidation seized his heart. He stepped back.

  “Have you forgotten what you are, my son?” Arawn stepped forward and placed his hand over the mark of the Hunt on Calan’s chest. “A Huntsman, part of a Teulu. You are one with your brothers and sisters, bound to them through me.” Arawn leaned closer until his warm breath bathed Calan’s face. “From now until the world ends.”

  Calan’s heart stopped. He shook his head. “No. It can’t be.”

  “Yes.” Arawn nodded. “We are all cursed, only in different ways.”

  He staggered back. “But I never suffered. I never—”

  “You never suffered?” Arawn laughed. “So you felt no regret. No guilt. No damn empathy for the agony your brothers and sisters have endured. Is that the lie you are trying to tell me?”

  Hadn’t he thought the same thing numerous times? Said the same thing to Rhys—that sharing his siblings’ tortures and knowing he couldn’t bear it instead of them was his punishment.

  “I didn’t realize.” Calan dragged his fingers through his hair, roughly tugging at the strands. The pain didn’t help. Remorse slashed at him. “What have I done?”

  “You have damned the woman you love! That’s what you have done.” Another shove. Calan landed on his ass a third time. He stayed there. Arawn towered over him. “Your fairy mate holds a piece of your soul. Your cursed soul. Once your siblings succumb to the madness—”

  “They won’t. They are strong. Honorable. They—”

  “Are crumbling under the weight of a curse they were never meant to bear.” Arawn thumped his chest. “I feel them. Their pain
. Their suffering. Their anguish. Even the strongest of them are a heartbeat away from losing the fight.” He dropped his balled fist. “Even my beautiful, precious Tegan hovers on the brink. Every sunrise I fear will be her last, but somehow she’s managed to endure.”

  Barely, just barely. Calan knew of his sister’s struggles and the imaginary world she’d found comfort in. Telling Arawn how far gone she was would crush him. Calan glanced away before Arawn saw the truth in his eyes.

  “But she will crack, and so will Rhys and the others.” Arawn stepped in front of him, then waited until Calan met his gaze. “When they do, the weight of the curse will fall to you, and through you, Harley. The magic senses her. Wants her. And it will claim her unless you spare her its wrath.”

  Calan shook his head. He had no words. Didn’t want to believe.

  Arawn crouched next to him. Sympathy softened his normally impassive features. “How long do you think you will survive before madness takes over your mind when you must watch your mate die repeatedly?” He waited a moment, then lowered his voice, gentling it. “Not long, I’m guessing, and when you are lost, she will bear it alone.”

  “No.” Calan choked on the word.

  “Yes, but she won’t be able to escape through oblivion. The fairies can’t. I created the curse to punish them for an eternity. No forgiveness. No redemption. In my eyes, they had deserved none.”

  “But Harley hasn’t done anything to warrant it.”

  “I know, but I won’t be able to free her. She’ll be beyond my powers, but”—Arawn grasped Calan’s shoulder—“you can save her.”

  “How? By letting you rip her away from me?”

  Arawn dropped his forehead to Calan’s. For a long moment, Arawn said nothing. When he did, his words came out as a breath of sound, barely audible. “You always have two choices, child. The right one and the wrong one. The way I see it, yours are simple. Either break your half of the mate bond and continue hunting Dar, or keep your mate, enjoy her for the time you have, then allow her to suffer under the curse. Once she bears it, the barrier will stabilize and the humans will be safe.”