Hunter Deceived

by Nancy Corrigan

  She glanced at her marked palm. “Not for much longer.”

  Silence stretched. He offered her no comforting words, no hope, not even a shoulder to cry on. Did she really expect otherwise?

  No, and that’s why he’s my favorite angel.

  She met his assessing gaze. “You said you’d made a mistake with your brother. What does it have to do with me?”

  He shrugged in answer.

  She sighed. “Can’t say, right? Your vow of silence?”

  “Exactly.” His eyes sparkled. She saw the hint of his personality hidden in their lavender depths. Just as quickly as it flared, it faded. “I came to make sure you remembered what I had said to you about your hero.”

  She closed her eyes and let her dreams return. All the angels who’d taken turns visiting her had told her to endure because her hero was waiting for her. He’d love, protect and cherish her. She had found him, and he did. She knew, mated to her or not, he’d always do his best to uphold those truths.

  “Yes. Calan’s love is real and deep. Never doubt it. That is not what I want you to recall. Do you remember”—he lowered his voice as if his next words were meant to be a secret—“what else I told you about him?”

  For the first time, she wondered if what he’d revealed to her had been a secret. She sat on her knees and leaned close, forehead to forehead, as they’d done in her dreams.

  “He would unleash me. Make me more powerful than any other.” Recalling the words only her angel had spoken to her sparked her uncertainty. She tipped her head slightly to look into his eyes. “Raul told me the same thing the night he killed my mom. That he would unleash me, not Calan, and it was time to accept my heritage. Raul had even said the angels had watched over me.”

  She narrowed her eyes and sat back. “How did he know?”

  “I told him.” He held up his hand. “I had to, so you’d run. I could not allow Calan to mate you yet. It was too soon. All the players had not yet been led into position.”

  “Players?” She frowned. “You make it sound as if I’m in a game.”

  He curled his hands into white-knuckle fists. “Call it a game or a battle, but the fight that has been building for several millennia is nearly upon us.”

  “What’s at stake?” By the growling tone of his words, she guessed something precious.

  “Everything, Harley. The world, our souls, our future.” He stood. “And now it’s time for you to make the first move. I have done all I am permitted for you, sacrificed what I was allowed and guided you to this moment.” He took a step back, his ethereal body growing opaque and indistinctive. “Free will, Harley. The choice is yours to make. Pick it wisely.”

  With that, he faded. A breeze drifted through the room, dispersing the clouds and bringing with it the scent of rain…the scent of life and goodness. Everything I am not.

  She dropped her head against the wall and went over what he’d said. Her angel was right. Everything was at stake, and it all came back to Calan and his love for her. Free of their mate bond, he would hunt Dar. If Calan found him, he’d be able to transfer the curse, but there was no guarantee Calan would find Dar quickly. And if Calan’s siblings went mad beforehand, Calan would be forced to bear the weight of the curse alone. And he would. She knew it as surely as she knew her angel wouldn’t lie to her. Calan would suffer eternally for her.

  So I can have a chance at life.

  But she would go mad knowing he suffered. Hatred would take root in her heart. She’d lash out at her father, and the outcome Calan had tried to prevent would become reality.

  She would turn Unseelie. Worse than that, she’d be unworthy of the sacrifice he was making for her. She’d be unworthy of his love.

  And without love, what is left for me?

  Her neighbor’s wrinkled face flashed before her eyes. The slideshow started. Each and every death caused by Raul or his sluaghs danced across her vision. Once she joined her father’s court, she’d savor them all and hunger for more.

  No. I won’t allow it to happen.

  She pushed to her feet, then dressed in the outfit Calan had first seen her wear. She quickly scanned the bathroom for the item she sought, and her gaze settled on the dirty, ripped clothes in the corner. She dug through them and pulled out the dagger Calan had taken from his prison. Dried blood coated it.

  Dar’s blood.

  She rinsed it off, slipped it into her boot, then left everything behind. Duty called.

  And it’s time to finally embrace my heritage.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “I am sorry, child,” Arawn said.

  Calan held the small vial up to the light. A rainbow of colors danced through the shimmering liquid. “What is this?”

  “An angel’s tears.”

  Calan turned and caught his father’s gaze. “What did you sacrifice to get it?”

  Because it had to be something precious. Only the Archangels had a physical form, and those warriors were as vicious as the Huntsmen. More so, actually. Many believed them unfeeling, unforgiving vigilantes. Calan had thought the same thing until one had helped him save a human and the half-breed fairy child she carried all those years ago.

  Arawn shrugged. “Does it matter? The sacrifice has been made. There is no taking it back.”

  Calan pressed the vial to his chest. Warmth emanated from it. “I’m hoping one of my brothers will fall in love with her as I have and mate her.”

  “She’ll make a fine mate.”

  Calan tilted his head and studied his father’s face, but the blank mask he wore gave nothing away. “You do not know her.”

  Arawn pushed from the wall near the entrance to the Huntsmen’s sanctuary. He turned and headed back the way he’d come. At the fork in the corridor, he glanced over his shoulder. “You love her. That is enough to convince me she is worth any sacrifice.” He motioned him forward. “Now go, the sun will set soon. You must call the Hunt. Time is running out.”

  Calan nodded and stepped through the portal. It closed behind him with a soft whoosh, leaving him in the overgrown butterfly garden where he’d first peered into Harley’s eyes.

  He waited until the stars brightened the sky before he withdrew the vial. His hand trembled. He ignored the disturbing sight, unscrewed the cap and chugged the thick liquid. Fire raced down his throat. He grabbed his neck and clawed at his skin, but the inferno spread, igniting every inch of his body. His skin pulled taut, his lungs collapsed and his heart stopped.

  The air around him charged, and an invisible force slammed into him, lifting him and throwing him across the garden. He smacked into a bench, the wood collapsing under his weight. A heartbeat passed, then another. The pain receded.

  It was done.

  Calan pushed his body into a sitting position but couldn’t bring himself to move, let alone call the Hunt.

  For the first time in his life, the familiar rage that fueled his Huntsman form slipped through his fingers. His sorrow overshadowed everything.

  He’d lost the best part of him. A mere shell remained.

  It’s better this way. Harley won’t suffer under the curse. She’ll be free to live and love another. And if he kept telling himself that, someday he might believe it.

  * * * * *

  Harley’s mouth opened on a soundless shriek. Hands pressed to her chest, she tried desperately to hold on to Calan. The silken second skin, bonding their bodies and souls, slipped through her fingers. Fire replaced it. Her back arched, and the final piece pulled free. She slammed onto the ground. Air rushed out of her lungs.

  For a long moment, she lay there unmoving. Finally, she turned her hand over. One by one, she forced her fingers to unclench. Where two circles had been, only one remained. Hers.

  She gnashed her teeth. They’d never had a chance. Damned. They’d been damned. Dar was responsible. He had tainted her. Made it so sh
e couldn’t live a normal life. To love. To be free. To have a family.

  Jaw locked, fists curled and muscles tensed, she sat there vibrating with rage. She wanted her father’s blackened heart. She’d rip it out of his body and crush the diseased organ, then…

  No. I need to stop. I can’t give in to my hatred. I can’t turn, not yet. She held her plan close and took deep breaths. Her quickened pulse slowed. She pushed to her feet and shuffled the remaining few feet to lake. With each step closer, the water receded, and the shimmery veil covering the hidden sinkhole emerged.

  No longer a calm body of water, the entrance to Calan’s prison greeted her. She glanced into the pit that looked deeper and darker than it had the last time she’d seen it. The sight of the churned earth and sulfur-scented smoke slipping from between cracks in the sloping ground sent a wave of nausea through her. Doubt and fear took hold. She shoved them aside.

  She’d made her choice—Calan. Nothing would stop her. She would save him, so he could save the world.

  She slid over the edge of the sinkhole, dropping onto the first step of the natural staircase leading to the bottom of the pit. The pure chaos mixed in with the smoke separated from the noxious gas and weaved its way toward her as it had the last time she’d stood in the same spot. It snaked up her legs, twined around her torso and lifted her hair. Instead of experiencing temptation, her skin crawled. She ignored the sensation and pushed forward, hopping from each protruding hunk of earth until she reached the bottom.

  Wide-eyed, she stared at the entrance. The beam that had sagged the last time she’d seen it had cracked. The earthen roof, partially collapsed, allowed only a crawl space into the underground chamber.

  “Oh God.” Tremors started, and memories returned of her time spent in the basement of her family home—plush carpet, comfy furniture, books and videos. The image of Calan’s prison overlaid it—the chains, the silence, the isolation.

  She forced her feet to move. At the opening, she dropped to her knees and breached the doorway. The soot in the air choked her lungs. She breathed shallowly and crawled forward. Some places, she had to shimmy on her belly, squeezing through the collapsed tunnel, but the farther she traveled, the wider the opening grew. Near the final stairwell, she stood, brushed off the dirt on her pants and descended.

  The unlit torch on the wall drew her eye. She grabbed a flint stored near it, scraping the small block over the stone. The spark caught, lighting the partially burned, cloth-wrapped stick. A flickering glow illuminated the space.

  She swept her gaze over Calan’s bedroom. Her attention focused on the rumpled bed where they’d made love. Her heart dropped, and a sigh escaped. On shaky legs, she walked forward. She lifted the pillow to her nose and inhaled her Huntsman’s woodsy scent. She greedily let it seep into her, then forced her fingers to unclench, dropping it onto the mattress.

  Movement caught her eye. She glanced toward where Calan had stood for a millennium. The chains hanging from the wall glowed, swinging softly on a breeze she didn’t feel.

  “This is it.” Her voice echoed.

  She swallowed around the lump in her throat and took a step, then another. Without allowing herself to think, she yanked the dagger out of her boot and clutched it while she backed into position against the wall.

  The chains she’d thought would be too short for her small frame lengthened. The ones at her feet slithered across the ground. The manacle snapped over her left foot, her right next, and pulled. Her hips cracked with the tight stretch. She winced but didn’t have time to cry out. The one above her head snagged her free wrist and jerked it up. Fearing the other chain would capture her last limb, she raised the blade and slammed it into her chest. It sank, deeper and deeper, until her body absorbed it completely.

  Fiery ice slithered into her veins. It seized her, locking her muscles, stopping her heart and throwing her body and mind into the worst agony she’d ever experienced.

  Words skittered through her brain. She couldn’t make sense of the guttural chant. The language was one she’d never heard, but the meaning of it settled into her heart.

  She had to suffer for crimes she had never committed. The images danced across her vision—bloated bodies, rapes, torture and utter destruction. In every one, a face repeated. Although she’d never seen him, she knew who he was—her father, the sick bastard who’d forced his seed into her mom. Hatred whipped through her. Pain followed. She welcomed it, hoped if she accepted it, the sheer agony would stop. It didn’t. More anguish added to the weight crushing her.

  The earth around her trembled, groaned and finally shook in a violent quake. The ground shifted. A boom rocked the world, and the sound of crashing and shifting rock filled her ears. I’m being buried alive. The thought came and went. She couldn’t hold on to the fear it brought. Hell had finally found her, and it was worse than she ever imagined.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Another tremor shook the earth. Calan pushed to his feet and opened himself to the power of the Hunt. Without a tie to Harley, the tainted fairy side of her was no longer invisible to him. He sensed her near the lake, along with a redcap and dozens of sluaghs. He stared in that direction and cursed.

  Something horrible had happened. It had to have. He refused to believe she had turned Unseelie or sought out Raul. With a warning to his hounds to spare Harley their wrath, he let his Huntsman form emerge, then ran.

  He cleared the tree line and stumbled to a halt. Raul stood behind a wall of sluaghs. Beyond him, dirt and stone spilled over the lip of the sinkhole that led to his prison’s entrance. The sight didn’t make sense. Calan pushed the concern aside and scanned the woods.

  Harley was close. He felt her fairy side as a low thump in his veins, but couldn’t see her. Raul had done something to her, as Calan feared. Before Raul took his last breath, he’d tell Calan.

  He willed his sword to appear and rushed forward, but the sluaghs didn’t charge him. They didn’t even move. Still, he cut them down. They blocked him from getting to Raul. The sight of him hiding behind the living dead army he’d created set Calan off. The wrath he always kept tightly contained spilled over and consumed him. He let it fill him up and used the strength it offered to annihilate his enemies.

  At last, the final sluagh fell. Calan directed his hounds to disable Raul, then charged the redcap, sword outstretched. Raul clawed at the dogs attacking him. He grabbed one and flung the beast. Calan wrapped his arms around the animal, catching it in midair, and set him to the side. He swung his weapon in the redcap’s direction. His blade met air.

  Raul stood several feet away, panic on his face. “It’s about damn time you arrived. I can’t get to Harley. You need to stop her before she ruins everything!”

  Calan froze at the sight of the redcap’s anxiety. “What have you done with her?”

  “Other than use her to break my tie to Dar?” Raul shook his head. “Not a damn thing. She did this herself.”

  “Did what?”

  Raul motioned behind him. “She decided to make herself a martyr and save the Huntsmen.”

  Calan cut a quick glance at the sinkhole. His heart skipped a beat. The sound of falling rocks and rushing dirt drove home the truth. The sinkhole was filling in because the curse had been transferred to a fairy, thereby stabilizing the barrier.

  Not to Dar, though. To Harley.

  She’d sacrificed herself.

  “Thank you for giving my sluaghs peace, but now you need to save Harley.” A car started. “Her imprisonment will ruin all my plans. I need her alive and well in this realm.”

  Raul’s words yanked Calan’s attention from Harley’s living tomb to the redcap and the choice Calan had to make. He gave the sight of his prison being buried along with the woman he loved one last glance. Emotions warred within him, but he could not allow Harley’s sacrifice to be for naught.

  He’d save her. He’d save everyone. He w
ouldn’t allow any other outcome to prevail.

  First, though, Raul had to die.

  He turned his back on the sinkhole and found Raul running toward a vehicle. He jumped in and slammed the door shut. Tires squealed, and dirt kicked up. The car took off.

  Calan drew on the power of the Hunt to fuel his limbs. He leapt onto the car and dug his talons into the roof. Screeching accompanied the slashing of the metal under his clawed hands. He reached into the opening and grabbed the redcap with sharpened nails dug in his shoulders.

  Raul cursed and twisted the steering wheel. The car veered right, then left. Calan slid over the torn roof. The jagged metal ripped his chest open. The pain meant nothing. The blood slickening the surface did, however. Calan lost his grip. His feet dangled over the side. Only his talons sunk into the redcap’s shoulder stopped him from going airborne. Raul jerked the car. Calan’s back bounced off the trees lining the road. Still, he held on.

  Again, Raul whipped the steering wheel. Again, Calan’s body was whacked off the branches. The third time Raul swerved, Calan pushed his feet off the tree he hit. The car tipped with his shove. Calan scrambled over it, reached into the window and yanked the redcap’s head free. Raul’s soul rushed out.

  Calan stared at the sight of the pulsing orb. A redcap’s soul could not be freed. It belonged to its fairy master. Calan didn’t know what to make of the occurrence, nor did he have time to ponder what it meant. Harley was being buried alive.

  He ordered Death to collect Raul’s soul, then raced toward the lake. He had to save her. He only wished he knew how.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Harley’s scream turned into one continuous shriek. Pain like she’d never known consumed her. Fire raced through her veins. Her skin burned, and her flesh shriveled. Every cell in her body hurt.

  She willed her heart to stop, but it raced, faster and faster. Fear rushed over her. She knew what would happen. Death had claimed her several times since she’d stabbed herself. She didn’t want it to welcome her again.