Rogue Huntress

by Aimee Easterling

  “Stick her,” Dakota said abruptly, interest in bringing me around to her point of view abruptly forgotten as my hair began to lengthen while my bones lost their structural integrity. If I’d known what was coming, I might have at least managed to boost my wolf the rest of the way through her transformation. But I didn’t. Instead, I hesitated, drawn out of our partnership as I attempted to guess at what my captor intended to do next.

  I wasn’t left wondering for long. The sharp point of a needle cut into my bicep. The cold rush of liquid squirted beneath my skin. Then I lost track of Sebastien, Dakota, and the males hovering over my body as the drug I’d been injected with took full effect.

  For half a second, I was back behind my mate’s eyes while handcuffs in a SHRITA agent’s fingers clanked in the breeze. Sebastien turned to meet Eddie’s worried gaze then shook his head adamantly when the other made a move to place himself physically between the agents and his guest. “This is all a misunderstanding,” Sebastien murmured. “I’ll explain it to them down at the station and they’ll release me right away. Don’t make a fuss.”

  Then, with my mate’s lie hanging in the air between us, my own consciousness flickered the rest of the way out.

  Chapter 30

  I have no clue how long I lay unconscious, and even when I woke something wasn’t quite right. Because my memories were crystal-clear, promising that people I loved were being harmed due to my mere existence. But despite the vivid mental images of Becca’s half-shifted body and Sebastien’s capture...I found I really didn’t care.

  Instead, I stood up slowly, taking in the empty space that loomed dimly around me. Night had fallen while I drifted in and out of consciousness, and lack of streetlights outside the windows suggested I’d been taken somewhere outside the city while I slept. Still, wolf-assisted eyes made it easy to pick out stainless-steel counters, a deep sink, and a quality oven. I might have been kidnapped, but I’d somehow landed in a twisted version of my childhood paradise. Spinning slowly, my mouth widened as I drank in the view.

  Dusty aromas of flour and cocoa fought with the sweetness of honey and molasses as I sucked up a tempting mouthful of air. I could see butter softening on the counter top, a basket of farm-fresh eggs promising yolks of brilliant orange. The combination would form the perfect base for a custard pie or a batch of lemon poppyseed muffins. Or perhaps I should whip up....

  We have to go, my wolf interrupted. She was alert beneath my skin, no longer groggy and slow to act the way she’d been before our forced nap. The beast felt different, though. Like a predatory force pushing me toward personal gain and self preservation. The two of us were still clear allies. But outside our shared body, the external world was nothing more than a game to be played and a war to be fought.

  “Pack,” I said aloud, testing a hypothesis that was coagulating like scrambled eggs above a slow flame. Sure enough, the word that had previously filled my body with so many emotions I could feel them tingling my toes and warming my gut left me infused with a vague sense of boredom. Becca, Sebastien, my various parents...none seemed nearly as important as ensuring I ended this day a little better off than I’d begun it.

  And, as my wolf had suggested, the path toward that goal clearly began with escape. So I gave the beast control, watching as our shared fingers slid open the window above the sink. Together, we pushed our head through the opening...then growled in annoyance as our forehead struck against an obstacle that prevented us from progressing further into the great outdoors.

  This wasn’t the way to freedom. Instead, bars I hadn’t noticed previously cut off potential egress, not only here but also in every other window within the large room.

  Given the foresight that had turned an airy kitchen into a prison, there was no real point in trying the sole doorway. After all, every other exit point had been soundly blocked. Still my wolf and I tried the knob, our breath halting in surprise when it turned readily at our request.

  Too easy, my inner beast warned me. And I agreed. But there was nothing to do here in this kitchen. What was the point of baking when I wasn’t hungry? I might as well act like a good little lab rat and walk out into the maze that had been presented as the obvious avenue for escape.

  I wouldn’t stroll into the trap blindly, though. Instead, I prepared myself for battle, tensing my muscles and settling into a fighter’s crouch.

  As I brought my body into position, however, I paused for half a second, wondering whether there was another avenue that ought to be explored. Should I perhaps tug on the invisible threads dangling downward from my belly? Make contact with people who would be worried sick about my disappearance and who could assist weak pack mates I’d left behind?

  Squeezing my eyes shut against a sudden pang in my temples, I shook my head to brush away internal cobwebs. That made no sense. My wolf and I were in this together. No one else really mattered. I was wasting precious time.

  So I coiled up the invisible connections tying me to others to ensure the annoyances wouldn’t interrupt my range of motion. Then I turned my body sideways to present a smaller target as I burst through the unlocked door.

  “CLEARER, ISN’T IT?”

  Dakota lounged on the wide, padded sill of another window, this one just as adequately barred as those in the room I’d recently left behind. A glowing tablet slipped from her fingers as she looked me over, and I saw no obvious bulges beneath her clothing to suggest she was packing heat. Meanwhile, the scents in the room promised the female was entirely alone and had been for quite awhile. She possessed no external defenses, just her human body and her inner beast.

  Easy prey. For a moment, my wolf and I were united in our plan of forward motion. We’d jump the female, strangle her until she passed out or died—it made little difference which—then exit the building however Dakota had initially come in. The task would be as easy as making brownies out of a box, with predictable results that were nonetheless perfectly acceptable in a pinch.

  Curiosity was the only thing that held me back. In fact, my wolf had already taken three steps forward when I grabbed the reins and spoke, knowing even as I did so that I was playing directly into Dakota’s long-fingered hands. “What’s clearer?”

  “The world.” She waved one arm vaguely through the air, and I noted that someone less tuned in to her inner wolf would have flicked on a lamp to more easily make out the expressions surely flickering across my face. Dakota and her wolf were as enmeshed as me and mine, though. She could easily smell my reactions from where she sat. Artificial light would have offered no advantage for someone with such a rampant inner wolf.

  Whatever scents flowed toward her now must have been both welcome and expected, because she continued as if I’d asked another question. “There’s no cure for psychopathy, did you know that?” Dakota told me, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Which makes perfect sense since inability to care about others’ emotions isn’t an illness. It’s a tremendous advantage. Can’t you tell?”

  And that’s when I realized what Dakota had done to me. Something in that needle had cut off connections in my brain that had been the mainstay of my existence for a lifetime. I remembered what it felt like to gasp in pain when a beloved companion banged her knee, to feel the clench in my own gut when a pack mate cried. But those reactions now seemed both weak and frivolous. As if I’d been walking for decades through a turbulent sea that buffeted me in different directions every time someone around me expressed a need or want.

  As much as I loathed her, Dakota was right. The drug she’d injected me with—this artificial psychopathy—did make the world a simpler place.

  “The clarity will wear off, unfortunately,” Dakota continued. I’d never met anyone as willing to carry on a one-sided conversation as my kidnapper. But perhaps my silent reactions were answer enough. “I want you rational, though, when we plan your brother’s trap. Derek is smart and savvy. If this is going to work, you and I both have to be on the same page.”

  Ignoring my compan
ion’s soapbox, I paced a circle around the room to make sure there wasn’t an easy exit I was missing. Sure enough, a second doorway existed in addition to the one I’d initially walked through. But as expected, this easy exit was quite thoroughly locked.

  And, when it came right down to it, I didn’t really want to flee from this female who was making more sense by the moment. The drug she’d forced upon me was a tremendous opportunity, I realized, a gift Dakota had granted when she cleared all the fuzziness from my thoughts.

  Because when I’d hopped on the back of Dakota’s bike hours earlier, my mind had been a muddy morass of indecision. Would I warn my brother away when Derek crossed my path a second time? Turn him in to save Becca? Or capture the young man for a different reason entirely—to let Eddie take another stab at rehabilitation using therapy and drugs?

  Now, though, I could see that there were dozens of pathways leading forward from my present location rather than just three or four. Far more than I’d initially supposed. I could continue focusing on yawn-worthy family, could use SHRITA’s interest in werewolves to advance my own causes, or could cut off all ties and simply strike out on my own.

  And yet, of all the possibilities, only one would boost my self interests to the fullest extent.

  Sinking down into an empty armchair with the same insouciance that had allowed Dakota to lean against her motorcycle when alone in enemy territory, I faced my captor with a clear and focused mind. “So,” I said, leaning forward until I could smell the salty scent of Dakota’s blood beneath her skin, “let’s get down to brass tacks. What’s in it for me?”

  Chapter 31

  “Complete immunity for all prior actions,” Dakota shot back, clearly expecting my question and having thoroughly considered her reply. As she spoke, I could see her wolf guiding the pathway of our conversation, the yellow of their shared eyes flaring with satisfaction. I had clearly stepped onto precisely the same trail that my kidnapper had been attempting to drive me toward...but what did predictability matter when I gained as much as she did from the chosen path?

  “Details,” I demanded, leaning back against the softness of the cushions that surrounded me. My wolf appreciated the physical pleasure, but we didn’t lower our defenses despite the relaxation of our external skin. Instead we soaked up clues with eyes, ears, and nostrils as Dakota willingly enumerated each past crime for which I’d be let off the hook.

  My trespass into Greenbriar territory and the effrontery of holing up at the Pinnacle were dealt with by providing retroactive permission to walk wherever I willed within any wolf’s domain. Sharing the existence of shifter-kind with Harmony, Valeria, and my mate was even simpler to excuse. All three humans were named honorary werewolves and given the same global territory I had been granted access to. How could I be accused of breaking werewolf law by shifting in front of humans if the one-bodies in question were considered statutory werewolves themselves?

  “Convoluted,” I offered when Dakota’s monologue had run down sufficiently that she seemed to expect comment. From the curve of her lips, I noted that I had once again provided the expected reply.

  “Trust me. The humans’ fate would be a deal breaker for you without the drug,” Dakota answered. “If we strike a bargain your irrational self can’t live with, we won’t get very far.”

  I didn’t trust her, but I also didn’t see how the unnecessary complications would work against my own best interests. The more relevant point was how easily the bargain had been struck thus far. I hadn’t made Dakota twitch in the slightest...which meant I hadn’t pushed nearly hard enough. “And what else?” I asked into the silence.

  “What else?” Dakota raised her eyebrows, looked me over. Her gaze was meant to remind me that I was a captive within a locked room, had been drugged up to my eyeballs, and possessed no weapons other than the physical assets of my inner wolf. In contrast, the other female had her own pack of shifters plus the full force of werewolf law at her disposal. I’d be an idiot to risk losing the ground I’d already claimed.

  That’s what she intended me to take away from the gesture. But surface trivialities weren’t what my wolf latched onto. Instead, my inner beast noted our companion’s stiffening posture, the subtle scent of incipient fur. Dakota had been thrown off her game by my question. I’d finally walked off her carefully prepared trail and into the wilderness of infinite possibilities that surrounded us on every side, so now she was resorting to intimidation in an effort to guide me back onto track.

  Perfect. Now was the time to push my advantage further yet.

  “What else do I get out of this agreement?” I continued, leaning forward until I ever so subtly invaded the other female’s personal space. “So far, you’ve offered an extension of my already earned immunity. Been there, done that. I’ll take it, but those concessions aren’t nearly good enough. You want more investment from me; I expect more investment from you.”

  “I suppose you’re going to ask for freedom for your little cousin,” Dakota said after a long pause. And I felt a sharp stab of pain within my gut where worry for Becca had once resided. Was that what I wanted? My mind was beginning to grow muddy once more, the numerous shifters who considered me their pack mate dragging me down into the mire.

  “Here.” Dakota pushed a small white pill across the table. “I can’t give you another shot or we’ll be waiting for hours to get this operation off the ground. But the tablet will top you up. Clear the confusion for a few minutes at least.”

  I palmed the pill—it seemed useful—but ended up slipping the small object into my pocket instead of into my mouth. The strange obsession with my annoying cousin had already faded into the background, and I knew better than to waste either weapon—drug or bargaining chip—during my moment of strength. “Something bigger,” I demanded. “Something that matters. Something I want for the benefit of myself.”

  Dakota glared, the first obvious hint of lupine aggression rising off her human form. She was growing frustrated with these extended negotiations. Wanted to hurry me along so we could move on to the nitty-gritty involved in capturing my brother.

  But my kidnapper possessed the most direct access I could ever hope to achieve to the top of shifter pecking order, and I didn’t intend to blow my chance at utilizing that tie. Instead, I narrowed my eyes and tried to think of an asset I could claim that Dakota’s bosses wouldn’t veto. Riches? Political power? The problem was—I couldn’t come up with anything worthwhile that I didn’t already possess.

  “A favor,” I said at last. “A favor to be chosen later that will be no skin off your teeth. That’s what I want in exchange for my aid.”

  “Done,” Dakota responded far too quickly. I’d likely left loopholes in my wording, would have to argue the point more fully once I knew what I wanted as my prize. But, for now, we were both content with our bargain. So, reiterating our settlement, we swore an unbreakable vow.

  Dakota would grant me total immunity, would back the decree up with enough teeth to call even wolves like those who had chased me to the airport off my trail. Meanwhile, she’d throw in a future favor of my choosing, something that would help me without negatively affecting her life in any way.

  In exchange, I would do everything Dakota told me to during the capture of my brother. I’d tempt him, I’d trick him, then I’d turn him over to the Tribunal to be torn apart.

  It seemed like a pretty good deal...at least, that is, until the drugs started wearing off.

  Chapter 32

  “Derek doesn’t even like sweets,” I realized, the epiphany bursting through my drugged haze at the same moment the memory of Becca’s half-lupine whimper bubbled up out of my subconscious for the first time in hours. My initial task—figuring out what treat would tantalize my brother so thoroughly he’d scarf it down without noticing the embedded sedative—had proven impossible while under the influence of Dakota’s artificial psychopathy. Meanwhile, as the drug wore off, worries that I’d struck the wrong bargain made it significantly hard
er to think.

  We still have our favor to work with, my wolf whispered as I poked through the kitchen in search of inspiration. We can use that promise to bust Becca free.

  My lupine half was right...and yet the pain of my cousin’s enforced isolation during such a critical stage in her development clawed through my belly like a second and less amicable inner beast. Becca had already been terror-stricken long before I fell unconscious, an event that had occurred several hours in the past. Would she be the same sunny child when the time came at last to pull her out of that dark, dank hole? Was there any way I could work faster and thus free the girl from her cage sooner rather than later?

  “If not sweets, then what?” Dakota demanded, drawing me back on track. I could smell the other female’s frustration as my empathy fluttered awake, could see her impulse to shake sense into me via the aborted motion of her clenched left fist. Still, my captor’s only actual response involved pulling more ingredients out of the cabinets in an effort to jog my memory. She knew as well as I did that empathic insight into my brother’s character was what would draw Derek in out of the virtual woods. And I couldn’t tap into my brother’s deeper disposition while under the influence of Dakota’s drug...or her fists.

  “Salty, fatty, maybe a touch of something unique on the outside,” I murmured, realizing now why the box of assorted pastries I’d sent my brother months ago had failed to bear fruit. At the time, I’d thought Derek was simply a skittish but lovable sibling. So I’d whipped up custards and caramels and chocolates in abundance to see which one might float his boat.