The Hunt: Complete Edition

by Anne Marsh

  Pleasure howled in her veins. “Wicked,” she accused, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Naughty kitty shouldn’t do that.”

  Of course he shouldn’t, but he did.

  “No polite request? I’m disappointed, femi,” he said, and then he pierced her with his finger, boldly pushing through her cream-slicked lips and deep inside. The hot flesh gave readily, her imagination fired by his bold words.

  He whispered rough compliments against her neck, his heated breath raising its own army of goose bumps on the graceful curve of her throat. His dark form dominated her smaller, paler body.

  She wiggled experimentally, sinking further onto his finger until her hard little bud slid teasingly along that spearing digit.

  “Let me fuck you, Miu,” he demanded in a quiet, fierce voice.

  He did something with his finger and his thumb, a rubbing motion that made her mewl into his mouth. With each new stab of pleasure, she gasped.

  His kiss was the kiss of a desperate man. No finesse and all hot, wet caress. His tongue stroked along the seam of her mouth, demanding entry, so she opened and he swept inside, conquering. Warning signals flashed in the distant part of her brain that was still functioning. The rest of her, though, drank in the lush taste of the male who held her, just as her body had drunk in the moonlight.

  “Feel it, too,” he groaned, lifting his mouth from hers. Pressing that wicked mouth against the curve of her jaw and lapping at the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “You feel the moon?” Her entire body was trembling, awakening as if the biggest orgasm of her life were about to crash over her. He shook his head, his mouth taking hers again. He pulled her body against his, arching into her flesh like the feline he was.

  “Mazhyk,” he growled.

  “Yes,” she breathed. He was mazhyk, his touch setting fire to her blood.

  “Sex mazhyk.” Was that regret she heard in his voice? Her eyes flew open.

  “Sex mazhyk and blood,” he repeated. “Always worked for the Ifrits.” With a quick movement, he slashed his blade down the inside of her arm, reaching for the moonstone.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “You bastard!” Miu’s hands locked around the necklace, pulling at the silver links.

  Burying his face against her neck, he muttered words of apology in the old language of the Guardians, the tongue they’d used before they’d mastered human speech and language. Dasht menya paz. Forgive me, lover. He’d had to do it. There was no other choice.

  He hadn’t been sure he’d be able to do it. Stab another lover. Of course, he’d only pinked Miu’s arm. He hadn’t jammed the blade deep into her devious little heart as he’d done with his Ifrit. He wondered if the Amun Ra had known that he’d mourned his Ifrit, even if she had betrayed him and maddened him and stripped him of his honor. He’d thought he loved her.

  Perhaps he had—but it was nothing compared to what he felt now for the female in his arms.

  Raising his hand, he smeared the sticky crimson liquid over the glowing surface of the moonstone. Blood dripped along his arm as her fingers twined around his, whether to stop him or aid him, he could not tell. He felt his Cat stir and forced the shift down. Not now.

  He took a deliberate step forward, out from under the tree, into the silvered patch of moonlight. As she tightened her legs around his waist, he waited for the mazhyk to begin. Nothing happened. Moon rays traced dark shadows over their enmeshed bodies. In the half twilight where the moonlight penetrated the nighttime darkness, the necklace glowed faintly, as if it pulled the moonbeams through the pale, surf blue stone set in the dead center of the silver circlet.

  “It glows,” she said. “And burns.” The circlet branded her skin. A soft pink flush radiated out beneath the heating metal. He swallowed back his bile. It wasn’t hurting her, he told himself. She would be fine. She had to be.

  And yet no portal opened. He fought to remember what he knew of these portals. Had there been other keys between the realms? He’d heard of a few, but had never seen one.

  “It’s not working,” he growled, without taking his eyes from the slow trickle of blood. Something was not right.

  Above them, the moon sailed majestically across the sky. A peaceful, calm look spread across Miu’s face. The look of a woman who had been well satisfied in bed.

  “Ummm,” she breathed, raising her arms.

  Moments ago, she’d been writhing on his finger, looking to him to bring her satisfaction. He would be the only one to make her face assume that blissed-out expression. Not some damn moon goddess. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, bringing her back to the present.

  “What’s that for?” She glared at him. Deciding silence was definitely the better part of valor this go-round, Jafar settled for a grunt. Heqet, was he jealous of a goddess?

  Moonlight suddenly jerked downward. Soft, swimming bands of light violently rerouted, pulled down and through the necklace’s stone, impaling her. Miu shrieked with pain, clawing at the band.

  The necklace didn’t budge. Didn’t come off. “Get it off,” she pleaded with him.

  Screw the portal. Screw getting the Amun Ra the information he’d demanded. Jafar couldn’t stand there and watch his mate burn. Frantically, his hands pulled at the clasp. His Cat roared inside, demanding he let the beast loose. He fought down the change, his fingers moving frantically over the metal. Miu’s skin flushed and darkened, pale blisters forming beneath the edge of the necklace.

  “Damn the Ifrits and damn Qaf.” His own fingers blistering, he shoved the material of her cloak beneath the metal, buying them seconds. Vibrant light played over, around them and he could hear voices hissing in the light stream. Ifrit voices. Miu screamed once more, her entire body exploding with the channeled light, light pouring from her fingertips and eyes.

  A violent blast of light tore away the clearing—and then the door was there.

  With Miu’s legs still wrapped firmly around his waist, he stepped through.

  ***

  “Where the hell did we just go?” Miu wouldn’t have believed it was possible if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. One eensy step through the shimmering Doorway and she was in another world.

  Her first impression was of heat. Air shimmered and danced before her eyes. It was dark here, too, but with a blood red moon high in the sky. The unfamiliar sphere was a violent spot of color in the inky darkness that gave landscape a harsh, otherworldly glow. As if this place needed that. Bad enough that coming here was like stepping into a furnace.

  Carefully, Jafar set her on her feet. The sand was so hot, she could feel its heat through her shoes. Miu would have fallen if he hadn’t thrust out a hand to cup her elbow.

  “What is this place?” She’d never seen such a hard world. Huge cliffs towered above them, holding the darker shadows of entranceways. The sands, littered with the fossilized remnants of another time, fell away at their feet.

  Jafar drew a pair of blades. “This is Qaf.”

  That didn’t bode well. Qaf was where Ifrits came from.

  “How’d we end up here?” Something howled on the other side of the hill and it was definitely not happy.

  Jafar swore. “The necklace,” he whispered. “I was right—it does open up a portal. And you activated it.”

  She looked around again. This was the most threatening place she’d ever been. It made the temple look like a pleasure garden. “I didn’t sign up for this, Jafar. Why did you have to go through that Doorway?”

  “I had to find out if I was right. If the necklace would really do what I thought.”

  “And what about me? Don’t I get a vote? Maybe I didn’t feel like making a social call on these Ifrits of yours.”

  “If I’d given you a choice, would you have come with me?”

  Her silence spoke volumes.

  “I thought not. You don’t get high marks for obedience, little femi.”

  “You could have at least given me some warning, Jafar,” she said. “You can’t expect me to jump without
knowing the reason why.”

  He withdrew another blade, handed it to her. “There may not always be time for discussion, femi,” he warned.

  “Fine. If we’re in mortal peril, I vow to obey you first and ask questions later.”

  He nodded. “Good. We’re in agreement then. And, for your information, I consider this entire trek to fall under the rubric of ‘mortal peril.’ ”

  “So this is Qaf. I thought it was a city.” She squinted into the darkness. No walls. No buildings. No recognizable signs of life. Except—something was moving on the face of the cliff. Black shadows slipping in and out. “Where do the Ifrits live?”

  “Caves, femi, carved out by ancient lava flows.”

  “Why do all the bad guys live inside rock?”

  He ignored her implication that the Guardians were

  bad guys, too. “Almost impregnable, that particular fortress is. No one sneaks in there.”

  “What are the shadows?”

  “Ifrits.” She didn’t like the sound of that.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here.” She certainly didn’t

  see anything worth sticking around for. Her feet were already burning through the thin leather of her boots.

  “Yeah, now that we know what the necklace does, I’m curious to find out why Lierr wants it so badly. What is he planning to do with a mazhykal artifact that opens Doorways between realms?”

  “Why do we care?” she grumbled.

  “Because if he wants to travel to Qaf”—Jafar’s face tightened—“then I would be very interested in knowing why.”

  “Perhaps he’s an Ifrit.” She watched Jafar for a reaction.

  “I hope not.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the Guardians thought we would know if there were Ifrits roaming about our world.”

  “How would you know? Maybe you missed one.”

  “Femi, we’ve tracked and destroyed every Ifrit that made it through the Doorways. But what if we missed one? What if some of them have found a way to open new portals? Ones that aren’t guarded. What if this Lierr is an Ifrit?”

  “Then we’d have a very large problem on our hands.”

  “Exactly.” Jafar scanned the sky. “But there’s an even larger one headed our way.”

  Dark shadows filled the air above them, diving with a low roar from the sky.

  “Ifrits,” he said grimly. “Thank Heqet I’ve got a bow.”

  Cursing, he began pulling arrows from the quiver and notching his weapon.

  ***

  Was it her imagination or was the moon lower than it had been? Miu marked its passage during the space of time it took for two Ifrits to sail across the lower end of the range and empty their bows on her position. Shit. Not only was the moon setting, but it was setting faster than she’d ever believed possible.

  Arrows flew steadily over her head, picking off their attackers one at a time. Slow going but, she had to hand it to her Cat, they were, surprisingly, still alive.

  “Got to go,” she hissed.

  “Not yet.” Jafar reached for another of those flaming arrows. Bully for him that he had mazhyk at his fingertips and could set those things on fire, but she wasn’t joking.

  “No,” she said. “We really, really need to go now.” How to tell him that she could feel the mazhyk draining from her with each inch the red moon sank below Qaf ’s horizon? Would serve him right if she just opened the Doorway and left him here.

  Beside her, Jafar took aim. Again. His arrow sank deep into a wing, sending feathers scattering over the smoking-hot sands. One of the larger Ifrits, too, who was forced to break off from the attack formation and circle back toward the cliff dwellings.

  “Got him.” Coolly, he selected his next target, lining up his shot.

  Lovely. She’d congratulate him on his superb marksmanship while she explained that they would soon be stuck here. For good. Unfortunately, she didn’t get the impression that Qaf was open to immigrants. Definitely a closed-border policy operating here.

  An Ifrit landed a short distance away in a whirl of air. Coughing on sand the guy had kicked up, she eyed the newcomer uneasily. Jafar took aim.

  The Ifrit carelessly fended off the arrow, raising a longsword with casual precision to block the mazhyk enhanced point. “No warm welcome?”

  No, she wasn’t going to like him.

  “Get away from him,” Jafar snapped. He didn’t take his eyes from the newcomer. “Get behind me.”

  “I don’t think she cares for your brand of protection, Cat.” The Ifrit strolled casually forward. Miu could see the dark swirls of mazhyk moving with him; the Ifrit had warded himself heavily. “Perhaps she would like a swap?”

  Miu seriously considered kicking the Ifrit in the balls. Or trying to. She doubted those wards were going to just part and let her in. Think. She needed options.

  Miu had never seen such a beautiful male before— or one who left her so bone-cold. There was something chilling about the Ifrit’s eyes, about his methodical assessment of her body, as if he were weighing her capacity as a breeding machine for baby Ifrits. His eyes examined hips, breasts, and ass, but never rose above her throat.

  “Procreate with me, female.” What a positive waste of gorgeous masculine skin. Stalking toward her, the creature was all smoldering sensuality—except for the eyes. The eyes were cold and hard.

  She ignored the Ifrit and turned to Jafar. “We’ve got to go.” Jafar looked as if he were ready to pull his blades and take on the Ifrit hand to hand—and that would hardly be a quick piece of business.

  As Miu watched the two males face off, she wondered what it would be like to really, truly be partners with Jafar. To stand by his side and have him stand by hers. Forever.

  Looking up, she realized this was no time to indulge in fantasies. The moon was almost down. Taking a step closer to Jafar, she reached out and grabbed his arm. They’d been touching when they had gone though the portal the first time. She needed to keep physical contact with him now, too. No way she was leaving her Cat behind in this awful place.

  Dragging Jafar’s blade down her palm, she forced open the Doorway. They’d discovered why so many coveted the necklace: it could open powerful portals across realms—now they needed to find out why Lierr had demanded she steal a fast-track pass to Qaf. Why would he want to go there?

  The sooner she got back to Shympolsk, the better.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Miu walked through the Doorway to find the lights of Shympolsk winking out as the night waned and a bleary-eyed sun crept over the horizon.

  “What the—” Jafar looked around at the city’s crowded buildings as if he had no idea where he’d landed. He probably didn’t. One minute he’d been about to launch himself at a rabid Ifrit; the next he was standing in a garbage-strewn alley.

  “I opened a Doorway,” she explained. “I was thinking of Shympolsk—guess that’s how it works.”

  “I thought you agreed I was calling the shots while we were in mortal peril.” Jafar gave her a fierce look, ignoring the curious glances of some nearby beggars.

  “Fine, you wanted to stay on Qaf permanently?” she asked sweetly. “You did notice that the moon was going down? It was open the Doorway right then, or kiss our asses good-bye. I don’t think that Ifrit was part of any welcoming committee.” She set off toward a seedy little inn where she’d stayed from time to time. “Let’s get off the street,” she called back over her shoulder, leaving Jafar no choice but to follow her.

  Miu decided Jafar was unshockable when he walked into the questionable little hostelry as if he owned the place. He ordered the best room in the house and slapped down a pouch of stones she hadn’t even known he possessed.

  “We need to talk,” he said, taking the steps two at a time. The hallway was particularly unclean. It appeared that they’d gutted the last guest—and hadn’t bothered to clean up. Dark, rust-colored stains disfigured the walls and made climbing the stairs an unsavory endeavor.

&
nbsp; “Really? You mean we’re actually going to discuss our plan this time? Agree on it beforehand?”

  He shot her an unrepentant look as they entered their room. It boasted a bed barely large enough for the two of them. Nothing more. “I suppose you think you’re just going to waltz up to Lierr and hand over the necklace?”

  “Something like that.” She sank down on the bed, exhausted. How long had it been since she’d slept, had anything to eat?

  “I told you, I’ll get your sister out, but we can’t let Lierr keep the necklace. Surely you can see how dangerous that would be.”

  “But we don’t even know where he’s holding Lore,” she argued. “He’ll have a dozen safeguards in place. You don’t think you’re the first person to think of stealing from him, do you? If I could just waltz in there and carry her off, he wouldn’t have much leverage over me.”

  “Other than your word to serve him.”

  “Right.” Her word. She’d discarded honor years ago. That commodity was just too expensive for her to afford.

  “I’m a hunter,” he said, when she didn’t elaborate. “I’ll find Lore.”

  “You’re familiar with the city? Spent loads of time there?” He shook his head. She’d figured that would be the answer, so she continued, “Hard place to find someone, particularly if someone else doesn’t want her found.”

  “Trust me, okay?” She didn’t, they both knew it, and they both knew that was a problem.

  “Find my sister first,” she said.

  “Just trust me, damn it!” he bellowed. “Have I ever given you any reason to distrust me?”

  “Didn’t tell me you were a Guardian when we met, did you?”

  “You didn’t ask,” he gritted out.

  She shrugged. “I’m sure that must make it all better. Oh, wait.” She pretended to consider. “No, not really. Kinda the opposite, kitty. Makes me wonder what else I didn’t ask that you neglected to tell me.”