Rogue Huntress

by Aimee Easterling

  Sure enough, a terse text was waiting. “Be careful,” Wolfie had messaged at six o’clock that morning when I was still sound asleep. “Dakota incoming. Chase free. Becca in worse danger. I gave the Tribunal your coordinates so we can sort the misunderstanding out.”

  So that’s how Dakota had found me so quickly. Wolfie protected his family above all else, and he never would have blown my cover for anything less than the safety of a younger and weaker wolf.

  In my memory, Becca’s sunny smile abruptly shattered into an agonizing frown. I’d lost track of her dilemma in the midst of familial reunions and she’d suffered for the lapse. How could I have been so thoughtless?

  An attached video promised further clarification. But Dakota was coming into view before me now, leaning against her motorcycle while she gazed out across the trees like a birdwatcher enraptured by the sighting of an elusive hermit thrush.

  “Good to see you,” the other female called as my feet settled to a stop ten feet away from her relaxed body. Somehow, lack of emotion made her presence more ominous rather than less. Shouldn’t she be pained at the loss of her pack mates, irate that she’d been forced to travel all the way across the country to track me down?

  Lack of anger must mean Dakota was getting exactly what she wanted. So I spun around rather than answering, half expecting enemy werewolves to be peering out from behind the trunk of every tree.

  But all I smelled was trees and grass and sunlight. All I heard was the rustling of wind through leaves.

  And when I turned back around, Dakota’s grin was so smug that I shivered and spoke without thinking. “What have you done to Becca?”

  “It’s all in the video,” my companion said around a yawn. “Hurry up and watch it. We—or rather she—doesn’t have all day.”

  Chapter 27

  I suddenly didn’t want to know what Wolfie had been tricked into sending by this female whose smile was far more dangerous than any snarl. But Dakota’s lips were sealed, her refusal to debrief me the easy way evident in every languid motion of her tranquil body. So I swallowed my foreboding and clicked on the icon nonetheless.

  Even then, it took me five long seconds to pick Becca’s face out of the darkness. Not just because the video quality was so-so either. The real issue was the way my cousin hovered halfway between wolf and human, her features so contorted I didn’t at first realize they belonged to a sentient being instead of to a craggy boulder or an inanimate knot on a log.

  Only when I drew the screen almost up to my nostrils did I begin making out my young cousin’s form amid the darkness. A flash of white around one lupine ear reminded me of the teenager’s joyful scampering across the tile floors of the Pinnacle kitchen yesterday afternoon. The toss of her head was reminiscent of the girl’s pride upon informing me that she’d accessed her lupine skin for the very first time.

  But Becca wasn’t showing off in this video. Instead, it was as if she’d lost ten years of maturity in a moment, the thready timbre of the youngster’s whining even more recognizable than the white triangle of her pinned-back ear. Because how often had I soothed Becca’s stubbed toes and pulled her into my lap when older wolves refused to play with her? How often had I heard this whimper emerge from entirely human lips?

  Focusing on my memories of the Becca I knew, I was finally able to see the girl in spite of the darkness. The curve of her back angled tighter than any wolf could rightfully bend while small human hands hugged at a furry lupine torso as if to protect herself from further assault. My little cousin was neither wolf nor girl at the moment the video had been taken. Instead, she was stuck somewhere betwixt and between in a space too small for either creature to adequately stretch out aching limbs.

  And for the first time, I understood the monstrosity Eddie had been trying to describe at a gut level. Whether or not Derek had once performed the deeds our stepfather accused him of, Dakota’s vague smile promised that it was quite possible to lack all empathy for another’s pain. Because the female before me still smiled so glibly it was evident she couldn’t have cared less about Becca’s predicament. Only the sure knowledge that Eddie was watching via tablet prevented me from bursting out of my clothes and leaping for Dakota’s throat right then and there.

  Well, that knowledge...plus the smugness pooling in the air that promised Becca’s rescue depended upon Dakota’s continued good health.

  My opponent knew she held all the cards. Perhaps that’s why her teeth stubbornly refused to sharpen as she blinked at me with entirely human innocence plastered across her smooth and comely face. “I put the child somewhere safe,” the other female answered. “I had to check on you, so I tucked her away in a little box until I was sure you were doing your duty. It’s not my fault the girl is a closet claustrophobe. Closet. Get it? What do you think? Good joke?”

  The other female laughed at her own punnery, her voice as melodic as the trickle of water over stones. And even though my nostrils flared and my fists clenched in reaction, I clung onto my temper with an iron grip. “What do you want?” I demanded.

  “The same thing I wanted yesterday and last week and will want tomorrow,” Dakota answered, her tone turning serious for the first time all day. “The safety of all shifter-kind. Which, today, means stopping your brother before he gives SHRITA any additional identifying information. With Derek’s assistance, that agency is perilously close to discovering the existence of our inner wolves.”

  Chapter 28

  I should have been disbelieving. I should have argued that my kid brother would never stoop so low as to sell out werewolves to the human government. Unfortunately, the evidence in support of Dakota’s assertion added up all too well.

  Because my human mate and my werewolf brother were the only ones whose identities should have been known to SHRITA. So how had the agent on the balcony managed to spit out my full first and last names? And how could agents have found us last night in the first place, only a few hours after our arrival on Sarah’s doorstep when my mate and I should have been entirely off the government’s grid?

  Possible betrayers in this puzzle were so few I could count them on five fingers. Who had known where Sebastien and I were heading yesterday afternoon? Only Dad, Mom, Sebastien, me...and Derek, who’d mouthed “Meet you at Mom’s” during that strangely easy-to-come-by call.

  The aforementioned contact itself was a conundrum. Derek had been so leery of sharing any identifying information during our two years of sporadic internet correspondence. He’d left vague clues on the Lupanet, making me jump through far too many hoops every time I wanted to get him on the phone. There’d been rerouted connections and abruptly dropped sessions. Then, more often than not, my brother had simply refused to accept chat requests if he thought there was any possibility someone other than me was in the room.

  Given all of this evidence, how had I managed not to be leery in turn when asked to call a simple telephone number from an unsecured line?

  “You know it’s true,” Dakota murmured from beside me, her voice syrupy sweet with feigned compassion. “Derek may be your brother, but you hardly know who he is otherwise. You’d never met the boy before this morning, had you?”

  This morning. The moment I’d been working up to during two solid years spent soothing the wild wolf that was my brother. Derek had always brushed aside my requests for a physical meeting in the past. Had concocted excuses so thin they might as well have been made of tissue paper. But I’d thought that thin fabric protected a candy core of saccharine sweetness, so I’d continued to persevere.

  And the effort had all been worth it in the end. When we finally hugged in the flesh, Derek and I had connected on a level I’d never felt with any other person. We’d bonded so instantly it was almost as if we were twins instead of half-siblings sharing only a quarter of the same DNA. My brother couldn’t have been working against me at that moment. I would have felt the betrayal. Surely I wasn’t such an easy mark as that.

  “He’s smooth when he wants to be,”
Dakota murmured, her eyes flashing with the first hint of emotion I’d seen since meeting her in Eddie’s driveway. “Quite adept at forging instant bonds that feel soooo good...until they rip out your heart and leave you gasping for breath. Your brother leaves a trail of devastation in his wake, which is all fine and dandy. But this time he’s gone too far and threatened more than naive idiots who think a perfect smile makes a deviant werewolf into a life-long soul mate.”

  “This morning,” I murmured. I’d blocked out most of Dakota’s monologue, unable to listen to words that might very well be true. Instead, my opponent’s knowledge that Derek had been in Sarah’s kitchen less than an hour earlier snapped my head up at last to meet my companion’s eyes. Dakota’s irises were just as yellow as my father’s, as if her inner wolf had forced a shift that extended no further than the orbs providing her with sight. Well, the beast merely affected her irises...and her decision to relentlessly treat the rest of the world as prey.

  “If you knew Derek was here then, why didn’t you grab him?” I continued, trying against all odds to make the puzzle pieces fit together into a different sort of image than the one they were stubbornly continuing to materialize into in my mind.

  It wasn’t working though. Instead my shoulders rounded in defeat as even my inner wolf began losing faith in Derek’s innocence. After all, why should a feral shifter suddenly decide to meet and bond with me when he’d never shown an iota of interest in doing so in the past? Why...unless SHRITA had sent him to scout the lay of land they’d been barred from entering by order of the President of the United States. Derek was the only one who could possibly sneak inside without risking Eddie’s temper.

  “Security footage,” Dakota answered shortly. And for the first time, I noted a hint of tension impacting her formerly emotionless demeanor. The female was pissed that she’d taken longer than anticipated to find me. Pissed that I’d let Derek go.

  Pissed enough to take out her ire on my twelve-year-old cousin?

  Because what Derek might or might not have done wasn’t really the issue here. Becca’s safety was of paramount importance, and I had to trust Wolfie’s assessment that the tween was in immediate peril for her life. I couldn’t allow the sweet child who’d been akin to a little sister to be harmed further in hopes of salvaging the thin thread of innocence my enigmatic brother might possibly possess.

  “Okay,” I agreed at last, having run up against a profound lack of other options. “Next time I see him, I’ll turn my brother over to Tribunal justice. To face a fair trial, innocent until proven guilty, right?”

  “Of course,” Dakota answered. And this time when she smiled, her teeth gradually sharpened into the wolf-like display of aggression I’d expected from the beginning of this meet and greet.

  Then, swinging one leg over her waiting motorcycle, the other female motioned for me to hop up behind her. “Get on,” she ordered. “You’re coming with me.”

  Chapter 29

  Five minutes later, I clung to Dakota’s waist as we sped down narrow roads at a breakneck speed. I hadn’t explained my absence to my mate and stepfather. Hadn’t been given the opportunity to even see them again in fact. Because Dakota didn’t need anybody except me. “You’re the bait,” she explained, knocking my cell phone to the ground then strapping the only helmet she appeared to possess onto my head as carefully as if I was her tender-skulled offspring. “The rest of them are irrelevant. Let’s go.”

  Now, blond hair whipped into my eyes as we sped through stoplights without slowing, ignoring the blare of angry horns when we cut off residents unused to having their elite neighborhood invaded by impatient wolves. A dark shape rose on my right shoulder and I flinched away from the incoming object...only to catch the tail end of Dakota’s disdainful laughter as she swooped into a curve intended to give me a better view of the road behind our backs.

  The female’s entire clan had slipped out of side streets and fallen in behind her while I wasn’t looking. Two dozen werewolves atop rumbling motorcycles, more than Dakota had brought along when invading the SHRITA compound two nights before. I’d gotten the distinct impression then that the shifters we’d gunned down were integral members of a finite clan. But now it appeared that Dakota had an unlimited number of lackeys at her disposal, that losing a few made little difference to either her pack or her peace of mind.

  Then Dakota shook her head adamantly, interrupting circular thought processes as my chin clunked into her skull. She wasn’t trying to hurt me, I realized, was merely motioning to trailing pack mates we were racing away from too quickly for me to turn and see. Still, I managed to catch a glimpse in one side mirror, cocking my head as I did so in an attempt to make sense of the scene that flickered into view on the roadway behind our backs.

  She told them to put their helmets on, I guessed. Or at least that’s what had happened in the moments between when I’d seen the shifters previously and now. Roughly half of the riders had covered their heads in gleaming domes of protective plastic. Or, no, exactly half of Dakota’s followers had been thusly impacted, each helmeted head sandwiched between two lawbreakers with hair exposed to the sky.

  I doubted Dakota bore much concern for the possibility of head injuries during accidents. And the artful dappling of helmeted and unhelmeted riders suggested camouflage rather than skull protection. So why...?

  Then we swerved up onto the sidewalk as a massive Hummer crested the hill before us. The vehicle wasn’t one of those souped-up civilian versions that I often saw boasting high-class stereos and soft leather seats. Instead, something about this Hummer screamed “military,” as if its driver had requested a tank and been told this was the closest facsimile he could drive into the hills on the other side of the bay.

  “SHRITA!” The realization exploded from my lips like shrapnel. Vaguely, I noted that the helmet I was wearing must have been intended to protect my identity. That Dakota had assumed the agents would recognize my face as well as my name. She’d covered up my distinctive features with a mirrored visor, then had similarly adorned half of her crew so I wouldn’t appear so sorely out of place.

  But I didn’t waste much time analyzing the other female’s strategy. Because the Hummer that had just passed us by meant business. And Eddie’s political connections would only go so far.

  Releasing Dakota’s waist, I vaulted off the moving vehicle to rush to my family’s aid.

  I ONLY MADE IT HALFWAY out of the seat, though, before one of Dakota’s followers grabbed me by the back of the shirt as easily as if I was a wayward pup running away with my leash handle gaily clenched between my teeth. Metal shrieked against metal as the two motorcycles rubbed together. Then I was being flung belly-down over the barrel of the male’s bike, the entire cavalcade of werewolves turning as one into an empty alley where the machines could idle far from prying eyes.

  “You’re an idiot,” Dakota informed me as I struggled against her pack mate, attempting to regain my footing. Or perhaps the easiest pathway toward escape involved shifting into my wolf? Yes, going lupine made total sense. I could run twice as quickly on four fleet feet....

  “Stop,” Dakota demanded. And for the second time during our short acquaintance, my muscles were taken over completely by the other female’s will. I lost the ability to struggle, to breathe, even to swallow.

  I could listen though. And Dakota took advantage of her captive audience to read me the riot act. “Do you ever think rationally?” the other female growled. “This is the perfect time for SHRITA to show up. There’s no one in that house except humans. No werewolves are there to be found.”

  And I had to admit that, in one way, the other female was right. With Sarah and her staff running the grounds in lupine form, SHRITA could invade Eddie’s home then leave empty-handed...with respect to werewolves at least. But my mate was still inside. And the professor had recently gotten himself on the government agency’s radar in a way that didn’t bode well for his continued good health....

  As if my frantic strea
m of worry had called the tether into existence, our mate bond zinged tight between us then, the view out Sebastien’s eyes abruptly superimposing across my own. I squeezed my lids shut to better decipher what my mate was seeing. And as I did so, the Hummer we’d just passed came into focus, a familiar male stepping out of the passenger-side seat.

  “Mr. Carter?” Man in Black asked even though he’d talked to Sebastien at least once before and was unlikely to forget my mate’s face after such a brief interval. “I have a warrant here for your arrest. As well as one for a woman going by the name of Ember Wilder-Young.”

  My own identity on the agent’s lips snapped me out of the virtual chokehold created by Dakota’s command. And I took advantage of the reprieve to fight like a wildcat, clawing at the face, the arms, and the chest of the male who was attempting to hold me down.

  “My mate,” I snarled, not really speaking to anyone other than myself. I had to reach Sebastien. Had to protect him from the danger my mere existence had landed him in. If only I could slip into the body of my wolf....

  “Such a maladaptive emotion, love,” Dakota murmured as I pulled at my animal half, striving to calm her overwhelming terror sufficiently so she could seize control of our shared skin. “Makes you even stupider than you were to begin with,” the other female continued before diving into a long ramble about my lack of brainpower.

  I ignored the insults, shoring up my beast instead as the latter gained a foothold within my body at last. She was groggy from Dakota’s compulsion, though, so her clawed path upwards out of my belly was painfully slow. Still, the wolf and I both understood that we required unity if we hoped to escape from Dakota’s minions. We’d need all of her lupine stealth and size combined with my human cunning in order to slip between the slats of the nearby wooden fence. Then it would be easy to cut across backyards on the way to assisting our endangered mate....