The Hunt

by Frost Kay

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” she managed to say evenly.

  Liar, liar.

  Fox kept his careful eyes on her. “You chose a bad time to pick a fight with me when you’re on the run.”

  “I wasn’t picking a fight. You weren’t cooperating.”

  “And you were the one who pulled a blade first.”

  “Because you’re not who you’re pretending to be.”

  Fox chuckled. “Don’t we all do that?”

  Tempest tightened her grip on her blade and took a step closer to the Talagan. “All I need is the information and I’ll be gone. I’m worried about my grandmother. If I don’t help, who will?”

  “That’s the way of the world, city girl. Now, I suggest you make a run for it before those unsavory fellows find you. I’d hate to think what they’d do to such a tasty morsel.”

  “They’ll taste the kiss of my blade before they touch me.”

  Fox laughed roughly. “Now, that I do believe. What did you do to them?”

  “Nothing. Not a bloody thing. I don’t even know them. I spotted them at a distance in the woods and made sure to give them a wide berth.”

  “Which part of the woods?”

  “The green part,” she retorted sarcastically.

  The shapeshifter scowled at her. “Did your parents teach you nothing as you grew up? You never travel alone in the woods. Trespassing is a death offense.”

  “I wasn’t traveling alone,” she huffed irritably and moved farther into the shadows. How much time did she have until the shifters discovered her? “I had a horse.”

  Fox snorted and his lips quirked. “While amusing, that’s not what I meant, and you know it.” He waved his dagger carelessly toward her. “We’re at an impasse. I don’t like it when someone pulls a blade on me so you shan’t be getting any information. Weapons don’t make friends, luv.” He scanned the darkened street. “And you can’t possibly best me and escape those who are hunting you. So, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Tempest muttered, panic beginning to creep up her throat like bile. Time was short and, at any moment, the pack of shifters could find her. Her gaze moved back to the woods. It wasn’t possible to hide in the village so that left the forest as her only option. She hated to leave empty-handed, but she couldn’t fulfill her mission if she was dead. If only she had a bloody partner.

  “You know, I’m not the enemy. I could help you.”

  She flinched. Had her thoughts been so obvious that a stranger could read them from her face? Her dagger wavered for a moment. “No one does things for free.”

  With one swift movement, Fox sheathed the long dagger and readjusted his stance, his keen eyes peering into the darkness as he searched for the pack of shifters. “True,” he repeated. “There are five of them and only one of you, and I happen to enjoy protecting a damsel in distress.”

  Tempest faltered and almost accepted. Don’t be an idiot. He was a liar and a cheat if she went by anything she observed at the table. She’d more than likely end up stabbed in the back. Her eyes flicked to his ears. A kitsune was never to be trusted. Ever. They were tricksters by nature. And then there was the matter of him hiding his ears and, thus, his identity as a shifter. Only somebody who had something to hide did that. No, Fox was not to be trusted.

  You are one to talk, lady imposter.

  “Thank you, but no thank you.”

  He shrugged and tucked his other blade away before she could see where it disappeared to. “While this has been a stimulating rendezvous, my lady, I believe you have somewhere to be.”

  He walked over to his cloak and yanked Tempest’s dagger from the fabric. Fox clasped the rich forest-green cloak to his neck, plucked his hat and the pipe from the ground, and sauntered up to her.

  Tempest lifted her remaining dagger and pressed it against the base of his throat. “That’s close enough.”

  The kitsune flashed a smile and surprised her by holding the hilt of her dagger out to her. “You’d better take this.” She took the weapon from his hand, never taking her eyes off his peculiar ones. “All you have to do is ask, and I’ll help.”

  “Tempting,” she murmured with a sharp smile.

  “Suit yourself,” he said simply.

  Then, with a flourish of his cloak and just the slightest of smiles, Fox leapt on top of the inn with one impossibly high jump, creeping along the tiled roof until he reached the next building. She gaped as he launched to the next roof and kept running without a sound.

  “What a bastard,” she muttered. How bloody unfair. The kitsune made it seem easy. And he stole her pipe.

  Fox disappeared just as the glint of lanterns closed in on the street. There was no escaping that way. Up it was. Tempest ran over to the stone walls of the inn, tucked one of her daggers away, and held the other between her teeth as she spotted promising handholds. She tucked up her skirt and began to climb. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck and her legs trembled as she neared the roof. The barely healed claw marks across her back and arm ached something fierce as she scrambled over the edge of the roof, her breath puffing between her lips in little, white clouds of steam. She stifled a groan and rolled to her feet.

  Where did Fox go?

  Tempest rotated her sore shoulder and snuck across the roof. She inhaled deeply and took a running jump and landed on the far roof without much of a sound. A thread of pride warmed her as she jumped to the next roof without incident. You’ve got this.

  Her eyes widened as she got a good look at the next gap between buildings. She gritted her teeth and sprung. The night air whistled past her ears as she caught the edge of the roof, her feet scrambling for purchase. Her arms shook as she pulled herself up onto the roof and rolled over and laid there, white-hot pain lancing up her back and through her shoulder.

  She peeked over the edge of the building at the stone cobbles below. That had not been fun. But breaking her legs would have been worse.

  “Maybe I should have let him help me,” Tempest whispered.

  In the very least it would have stopped Fox from running off. But on the other hand, she got the feeling he’d been toying with her the entire time and he didn’t do anything he didn’t want to. Tempest caught her breath and thought about their interaction. The stars above blurred as she thought about his luxurious cloak and fine clothes. That certainly didn’t add up. For a shifter, he’d been dressed remarkably well which wasn’t something a person saw every day, but that didn’t make him a bad person.

  “What are you hiding?” She rolled her eyes and silently crawled to her feet. Probably not as much as she was. What would he have thought if he’d seen her in Hound garb? Molten gold - amber eyes flashed through her mind, and Tempest wanted to slap herself. He was a damn shifter for Dotae’s sake.

  She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. It was a death sentence to get distracted. She needed to concentrate on what was happening in the present—the shifters in hot pursuit of her and how she was going to find a safe place once she entered the forest. Her skin prickled as if someone was watching her. Tempest froze and scanned the rooftops. Nothing. She did another cursory sweep and snuck to the far edge of the building that faced the woods.

  Careful to put most of her weight on her uninjured arm, she swung down from the roof and sucked in a lungful of air once her boots touched solid ground. Now for the next round of hide and seek.

  She ran as silently and as swiftly as she could toward the forest. With any luck, she could lose the men trying to find her between the dark boughs of the trees. It would be easy to climb one and stay hidden for the night.

  Her breaths formed little puffs of mist in the cold night air. When she reached the edge of the forest, she scanned the ground for any sign of humans or animals but spotted nothing. Tempest cursed under her breath at the darkness and rushed through the trees as fast as she dared. In truth, she could barely see five feet in front of her now that she’d left the village and its lanterns behind.

  A t
winge in Tempest’s back sent a shocking wave of pain through her nerves. She stumbled, knocked her shoulder into the trunk of a tree, and would have caught her balance if it hadn’t been for the root that tripped her. A squeak of pain escaped her lips, but it was enough. Tempest swallowed down the agony, already compelling herself to her knees. Mistakes like hers cost people their lives. A cry like that would send every predator in the area sprinting in her direction.

  Her jaw clenched as she knelt, tears of pain pricking her eyes.

  Get up! Get up before they find you. You’ve suffered worse.

  She fought the pain, adrenaline, and panic warring in her system and forced herself back to her feet and clawed her way forward, deeper into the forest.

  Just a little farther. Find a good tree. The trees will save your life.

  A wolf’s howl sliced through the still night, and goosebumps rose along her arms. She picked up her pace, damning every unclimbable tree she passed.

  “There she is!” a voice called.

  Hell. She hadn’t even heard them approach.

  On instinct, she veered to the left, running parallel to the forest in an effort to find the best opening for her to lose her assailants. If she could double back and crisscross her trails, she would confuse them. The barn with the horses should mask her scent, but she was losing speed.

  The shadowy shape of a man stepped from behind a tree to her left. Tempest veered closer to the edge of the forest and pushed her legs harder, her arms pumping at her sides. In the space of a few seconds, two more shifters made their way to her right, blocking her path back into the village.

  Damn it.

  Tempest came to a rapid halt, breathing heavily as she turned to see the remaining three shifters cutting off all other escape routes. She positioned herself so a large tree was at her back, pulled out her sword, and shifted her cloak over one shoulder so she had access to her bow and quiver.

  You cannot fight them all.

  The pain burned away while she observed her attackers stalk closer. If she wasn’t careful, she could cause permanent damage to her back and arm. Tempest schooled her expression as the shifters approached—all were male—and going by the looks on their faces, their little tête-à-tête would be a bloody one. But what were a few scars compared to a shifter’s sword embedded deep in her heart? Or their teeth in her flesh?

  She shut that thought down and held her sword up in warning. “A nice night for a run, is it not, gentlemen?” Her voice rang clear throughout the forest, but the men stayed silent as they circled her like a pack of animals. “Cat got your tongue?”

  “You’d best watch your mouth,” snarled the burly man to her immediate right.

  Tempest tightened her grip on her own sword even though every instinct inside her said to get as far away from the predators as possible, but that wasn’t who she was. She was a bloody Hound.

  “It’s my best feature, so I’m told,” she remarked. “Now, if you’re quite finished staring at me, why don’t we get down to it?”

  “You’re surrendering?”

  She smiled icily. “There will be no surrendering you giant arses.”

  “Sharp tongued twit.”

  “I assure you my blade is even sharper. Come closer and let me introduce you.”

  Tempest

  Sometimes, she really needed to shut her mouth. Maxim always said she was too blunt and that diplomatic words went a long way.

  Tempest smiled thinly and pushed her shoulders back, deciding to withdraw her earlier challenge. “I’ve no quarrel with any of you despite the merry chase you led me on. Let me pass, and I’ll be on my way.”

  She had a feeling that her words were pointless. Even though she didn’t have a shifter nose, Tempest could practically smell the aggression pouring off them. They were spoiling for a fight. A lanky, young man stepped closer to her right, his sharp smile setting her further on edge.

  “Now, why would we let a pretty little skirt like you scurry away?”

  Tempest bared her teeth at the man in a poor imitation of a smile. No, she would not get out of this encounter unscathed. Her heart thundered in her chest, but maybe she could attempt to stall them—if only to get her breath back and become accustomed to the pain in her back. She should have taken something more for the blasted pain.

  A man with pointed, black ears sneered at her. He swung his sword round and round in his hand. Tempest hid her amusement at his cheap parlor trick. Any swordsman worth his salt knew that such a showy display was a useless endeavor. He clearly hadn’t been trained well. All the better for her.

  “We don’t want your kind here. You should never have set foot in the village.”

  “And what kind is that?” Tempest asked, keeping an eye on all the men.

  “Don’t play dumb, wench. Everywhere you go, misery follows. We won’t have you disrupting our homes with your mischief.”

  Tempest stiffened. Were they referring to the fact that she was an outsider or a Hound? There was no way they could have discovered the latter part of her identity. She ground the soles of her boots into the dirt, feeling for the best stance to keep her steady against the inevitable attack.

  “I have no interest in disrupting your homes or families. I only seek information so I can better help my grandmother.”

  “Such pretty words from a lying little witch,” a fellow with a long face drawled, his shaggy black hair obscuring his eyes. “She was searching the forest with a fine-toothed comb. There’s much more than meets the eye with this one. Her tracking skills are phenomenal for someone without a snout.”

  The fingers of her left hand trembled, and she curled her hand into a fist as she took a closer look at the black-haired fellow. He grinned, flashing square teeth. It was an equine smile. A horsey smile. Oh no. “You?”

  His smile grew. “Yes. Those apples were quite a treat.” He smacked his lips together. “But not as delicious as the long ride I got to enjoy between your supple thighs.”

  All around her, the shifters sniggered.

  “I think I liked you better as a horse,” she muttered. “At least I didn’t have to listen to your donkey-like braying.” Ass.

  His horsey smile dropped. “Let’s be rid of her.”

  “Patience,” a cat-eared shifter purred, his inhuman pupils reflecting the light from the lantern he was holding like mirrors. “You see, dearest, we don’t appreciate it when outsiders come poking around where they don’t belong. If you were any other maid, you would have run back to Dotae with your tail between your legs when you first noticed us tracking you, but no.” He tsked. “So willful.”

  You’re about to see how willful I can be if you don’t get out of my way.

  “I can promise you that I plan to leave your woods straight away, if you’d step aside,” she said calmly, her sweat-slicked palm heating the pommel of her sword. Why weren’t they attacking? They’d already hunted her down. Were they only here for a bit of sport? Her lip curled at the thought. They wouldn’t gain any pleasure at her expense.

  The man with cat ears smirked. “Not quite yet, my pet; while you’re not welcome in these parts, you’ve traipsed around our fine home without paying the toll.”

  “The toll?” she repeated and shrugged a shoulder slightly, lowering her bow until it was an inch away from slipping down into her hand. If she could just get a couple arrows lodged in one or two of the shifters then she might be able to get away. She looked behind her at the other two men, searching for a weakness in their ranks. Damnation. There wasn’t one.

  “Our fine lord takes the care of his forests quite seriously.”

  “You mean King Destin?”

  The wolf-eared shifter took a step toward her. “Don’t you dare speak his name here!” he snarled. “Or I’ll tear your tongue from your blasphemous mouth.”

  “If you keep threatening me, I will have no choice but to use force against you,” Tempest replied, her voice hard. “I’ll pay your toll and be on my way. How much?”

  “I
t’s not that simple,” the cat shifter remarked. “You failed to pay the toll upon entering into our fine woods so you’ve technically broken the law. Disobedience begets consequences.”

  The men laughed again, a horrible mocking sound.

  She snorted, unable to help herself. “And whose law have I broken?”

  His smile turned completely diabolical. “The Jester’s.”

  Bloody hell. Terror filled Tempest as she fully realized whose company she was in. These were not some run-of-the-mill brigands, but the Jester’s mercenaries—men without consciences, for they were murderers, thieves, and dealers of everything nasty.

  Steel against steel hissed behind her, and only years of training saved Tempest. She ducked to the left, the wolf shifter’s sword biting into the tree trunk instead of taking her head. The world turned silent as she dropped her sword and slid her bow down to her hand, grabbed for an arrow and aimed it at the wolf-eared shifter. The arrow whistled through the air and lodged in the man’s thigh. He yowled in pain.

  The horse-faced fellow threw an axe at Tempest in response, but she darted away in time for it to become embedded in a tree trunk instead of her skull.

  She drew another arrow and fired, before snatching her sword from the ground and fleeing through the trees with the shifters hot on her heels.

  The cat man’s delighted laughter floated through the trees. “Don’t let her get away!”

  Branches tore at her clothes and stones tried to trip her, but she didn’t slow. Tempest was fast, but her legs were short. If she didn’t get to safety, sooner or later they would catch up to her. She pulled another arrow from her quiver and spared a glance over her shoulder to let loose another arrow at one of her assailants. She cursed as her shot went wide and disappeared in the darkness.

  “Come here, my pet,” a voice crooned as footsteps approached from her left. “The longer you run, the worse it will be.”

  Her jaw clenched and sweat dripped down her back as branches broke to her right. They were circling her again.

  Don’t let them get ahead of you. You can do this. Push hard.