Huntress (A Grace Murphy Novel)

by Nicole Hamlett

  That made me laugh.

  "I didn’t know that you could shift."

  "Yeah, it runs in the family," He answered noncommittally.

  "I don’t think my tits are that big either," I quipped.

  "Yeah but you wish they were," he replied with a smile.

  "I’m afraid, Drew."

  "I know," he said quietly. He pulled me into a big hug. I was an open book right now. No blocking, no feinting. He could read my mind as easily as he could a street sign. "It is ok for you to be afraid. It’s ok for you to be concerned for Dylan. I can promise you that while you are in training, he will be taken care of just like you were here. Diana asked that I stay with him and make sure that he was safe."

  I couldn’t help myself. I wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug and kissed him hard. "Thank you! Thank you so much. You don’t know how much that means to me."

  He broke away from me with a surprised look on his face. I fell back in confusion.

  "What? What did I do?"

  "Nothing," he said gruffly, turning away. "Let’s get you fed. Then I guess it’s time to haul up Christmas decorations."

  "Can I get a shower first?" I was starting to reek from the sweat.

  "Please." He smiled and just like that, the confusing tension was broken. "You smell like a boy’s locker room. I’m surprised Rose didn’t mention it."

  I ran down the hall to my bedroom, wishing that I could read minds too. Drew’s reaction to my gratitude threw me off.

  I stripped off my sweaty clothes, tossed them into the laundry basket and started the shower, stepping into the lukewarm spray. One of the best things I’d ever done was remodel my bathroom. The shower had alternating jets coming out of the walls that beat my poor, tired muscles into a relaxed submission.

  While I washed my hair, thoughts of all of the things I still needed to get done in the next few weeks plagued my mind. First, only a few chapters of the book were left. Marisol had worked her magic and the publishers had pushed my deadline back. The final rough draft was due on Monday. That was doable. God, she was a gem - usually this would have already been done.

  Next, I had to figure out what to tell Dylan about my absence. Before the divorce, he'd just stay home with his Dad while I was away. I really wasn't sure what to do with this now, though. Brandon was his father and perfectly capable of taking care of him but stubborn, jealous Grace didn't want another woman caring for her son in any way. It pricked at me and although I knew it was completely juvenile, I couldn't control the emotion.

  I’d talk to Rose about it. She would help me get past my petty emotions and we’d come to a conclusion that was better for Dylan.

  Drew’s deep voice interrupted my thoughts. "Hey pokey, your food is going to get cold. Stop daydreaming and come out here and eat."

  I turned off the water and wiped a small space of condensation off of the shower door so I could see him.

  "Hello, I’m naked in here!" I called exasperated.

  "Hello, you’re not the first naked woman I’ve seen," he replied.

  "Well … well I don’t have a good argument to that, so just g-t-f-o so I can get dried off and dressed."

  "You know that the Amazon women would fight naked. Those were good days." He wandered off whistling.

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed a towel, hurrying to get dressed. For one, Drew really was an excellent chef and eating his lunches and dinners were partially what kept me going. For another, he promised that we’d start practicing with weapons today after we brought the Christmas decorations up from the basement.

  Thus far, the only action I’d gotten was hand to hand combat. Ask me how easy it is to fend off a mercury golem with nothing but feet and fists. Not easy.

  Drew met me in the kitchen with cup of sweet potato and ginger soup and a half of a roast beef sandwich. It smelled delicious and I gobbled it down like it was my last meal.

  "If this Hunter business ever dries up, you should open your own restaurant. You cook like a god!"

  He raised his eyebrow at me and grinned.

  "Oh, well yes - there’s that. Even though you’re not a god so don’t get all holier than thou at me." I grinned back and popped the last bite of the sandwich into my mouth.

  "I actually own several restaurants," he shrugged. "Hunter business isn’t a full time gig."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. Most of the people that come through the Rifts aren’t here to cause trouble. They just pop in, look around and pop back out again. Plus, there are enough of us that it’s not that big of a hardship. Like with any military organization, we get leave and days off."

  "That sounds so…"

  "Ordinary?"

  "Yeah. I expected to have to be fighting every day, covered in gore with the souls of thousands on my conscious."

  "You are seriously cracked and dramatic. You know this, right?" He’d put his hands on his hips and was studying me closely.

  "Well how am I to know? Diana made it sound all life and deathy with no parole."

  "Well at least you come by your dramatics honestly," he smiled. "You will still spend a great deal of time here with your friends and family. The time away will be minimal, really."

  "Good to know. Great sandwich by the way."

  "It was the aioli. I use garlic and ginger with a smidge of ground mustard."

  "Well that doesn’t sound good at all."

  "But it was?"

  "Yeah, it was delicious. The red onions set it all off perfectly." I patted my flatter stomach. "Aww Drew, I’m going to miss your cooking so sooo much."

  "It’s good to know I’m needed," he said as he began piling dishes into the dishwasher.

  "Let me do that." I edged around the counter and took the plate out of his hand. "You cooked, I’ll clean."

  "Nope, you bring up boxes."

  I groaned.

  "Strength and balance training, lady. I checked out those boxes earlier this morning. You must have packed them to punish someone."

  I had. Brandon always hauled them up from the basement and I'd been punishing him with over-packed boxes for years.

  "Crap," I muttered.

  "Lesson learned." He turned his back to me and started cleaning the counters and stove.

  I hated it when I had the realization that I’d been so wrong. I don’t think anyone really likes taking that deep, hard look at themselves. Realizing that you’d been a petty jerk, then having to pay a physical price for it, well that’s just extra craptastic.

  The boxes were really heavy and their bulk made it difficult to carry them up the stairs. Every few steps I had to stop to adjust my grip. I was starting to feel bad for Brandon now, and that made me angry. He'd done this for the last four years without complaint. Every one of those years I'd been punishing him for - in my eyes - being the ultimate prick. Wow. I wasn't a very nice person.

  I set the last box down and perched on the bottom stair. Ultimately, Brandon and I weren’t ever suited for each other. I think that we both believed that the other person would eventually turn into the dream spouse. What happened in reality was that we grew apart. He went conservative, I went liberal. He wanted to prepare for retirement and host elegant dinner parties in a clean, tidy house. I wanted to get a maid and travel the world, visiting the ancient castles of kings. He wanted a sexy wife and I wanted him to tell me I was sexy. When he didn’t, I just started letting myself go.

  I was culpable. It was something I hadn’t wanted to admit before. I guess Drew was doing more than just prepping my body for the road ahead. He was making me take an inventory of myself as a whole.

  "Ok Grace, get over yourself," I muttered and hauled the offending box up the stairs.

  "Drew! I think the lights from last year were burned out. Dylan is coming home tomorrow and I want everything to be ready!" I called out as I pushed through the basement door.

  He appeared out of the kitchen wearing enough flour to bake a cake and an apron that said "All cooks should be this fat." I slid to a h
alt and sighed a little. Damn, he was just beautiful.

  "Where’s the fire?" He wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving a swath of white powder.

  "I need to finish the last three chapters of my book tonight so I can spend the next two weeks just being a Mom," I hedged. "I was hoping you’d go grab the lights for me."

  "I just put a soufflé in the oven for dinner. I can’t go anywhere right now."

  "Drew, fuck the soufflé. This is more important."

  "It’s a very good soufflé Grace."

  The noise that came from the back of my throat was inhuman. I dropped the box, opened the coat closet, pulled his jacket off the hanger and then threw it at him.

  His eyebrows raised in incredulous surprise. "I don’t understand what is going on here."

  "This Christmas has to be perfect. I don’t know what’s going to happen in three weeks. I don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow for the love of God, but I know that this Christmas has to be perfect."

  I sat down on the box with a huff. "This is Dylan’s first Christmas without Brandon and I being married. It’s going to be rough..." I trailed off.

  Who was I kidding? This wasn’t for Dylan. This was for me. This Christmas was going to be rough on me.

  He sighed and turned toward the kitchen. "I gotta turn off the oven."

  I jumped up and smiled. "I’ll buy you dinner."

  "It better be a good dinner," he groused.

  Chapter 10

  That night we went to the Cliff House for dinner. We ate, laughed and drank a lot of wine. Our waiter kept giving me the nod and wink after looking from Drew back to me.

  I just laughed and kept shaking my head at him. I guess I should take it as a compliment that people kept thinking I was boinking a man that looked like Adonis.

  Mrs. Johnson had cornered me a few days ago on my morning run and said, "Good for you dear. I always thought that Brandon was a jackass," before patting me on the arm and bringing her newspaper in.

  She hadn’t listened to my protests any more than this waiter was.

  I finished the last bit of my salmon and leaned back into my chair with a sigh of pleasure. "Delicious."

  Drew wiped his mouth with his napkin and nodded. "Yes, thank you."

  "Well you know - ruined soufflé." I smiled at him. The wine was making me a little fuzzy and it looked like he was glowing in the ambient lighting. Candlelight reflected off of his golden skin.

  "I should make you the hero of one of my books." I leaned forward and propped my chin in my hand, gazing at him intently. "You’re almost too beautiful."

  He glanced at the bottle of wine, probably determining how drunk I actually was.

  "You wouldn’t be the first to say so," he commented casually, leaning back.

  "Mm I suppose not." That was disappointing and a little humbling - that realization of how many women had fantasized about this man.

  "Would you make me the complicated brooding man, in desperate need of a good woman to bring him back to the world?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Do you think that I’m a complicated, broody man?" There was laughter in his eyes. I noticed that the corners crinkled a little when he was amused.

  I sighed and nodded. "You never talk about yourself. You’re a virtual stranger living in my house - caring for my family."

  "Do you want to know me more?"

  I thought about that. Did I want to know more about him? My stomach flipped a little. I could say all I wanted, but I did know him. He didn’t have to tell me about his childhood for that. This was the man who’d patiently whipped Dylan and me into a healthier unit. He was firm, kind and mysterious. He was every woman’s fantasy.

  Did I want him to wreck me between the sheets? I would have been lying if I’d said no. By the smirk on his face, he knew that too. He was too good to compartmentalize into that box though.

  I smiled a little drunkenly at him and leaned forward, my breasts pushing against the table, making my cleavage a bit more pronounced. "Don't be a tease," I whispered and smiled.

  He laughed out loud. "Who’s the tease now Busty LaRue?"

  Our waiter caught his signal for the check and appeared at our table, under the pretense of clearing the dishes. I grabbed my clutch and pulled out my card, handing it discreetly to him before Drew could maneuver into paying.

  "Smooth," he chuckled.

  "I said I was bringing you to dinner. Don’t be a dork."

  I signed the check and grabbed my coat and clutch so that we could leave. I felt anticipatory. It was such a bad idea, flirting with this man. He was the epitome of seduction and if I wasn’t careful he wouldn’t just wreck my body, he’d wreck my heart.

  "Stop fussing. I’m not going to pounce on you Grace."

  Those words were like ice-water. I stopped mid-stride and turned around to give him my most cutting glare.

  "I never thought you would deign to sleep with someone as lowly as myself. Get over yourself."

  I expected him to respond in kind. What I didn’t expect was for him to grab me, pull me close and press his oh-so-plush lips against mine.

  That kiss stole my very breath. For a moment, I couldn’t think or move. I simply leaned into the kiss and let his lips soften against mine.

  The lack of tension was probably what saved my life, because suddenly glass was cutting into my skin.

  The sonic boom blew out every window within a city block. Building and car alarms were screaming. The sound was muffled and I stumbled against Drew in a confused daze.

  I could see Drew’s mouth moving. It looked like he was screaming but I couldn’t hear what he was yelling. Something was trickling down my neck and I swiped at my skin to brush off the offender. My fingertips came away wet.

  I could only stand there and stare at the blood on my hands from what I imagined was my burst eardrums.

  He lifted his hands and covered my ears and I could suddenly hear again. I wished that I couldn’t. The noise was unbearable, like a shrill screeching in my brain that wouldn’t go away.

  I made myself dizzy, whipping my head around to look for the bomb. I staggered. "Ok...that was a bad idea."

  "You need to get down!" He was yelling at me. He shook me a little to get my attention and I nodded, still dazed.

  Small things caught my attention as I lowered myself to the ground. Drew was sweeping the streets with his eyes, body rigid, waiting for the strike. He’d pulled out a wicked looking scimitar and - surprisingly - a gun. When did he start using guns?

  People were running around without destination, screaming in panic.

  Glass crunched under my weight and I realized that I was cutting myself further. It didn’t matter. Drew said to get down. I was staying down.

  I recognized that I was in shock, but it didn’t feel the way the movies portrayed it. I wasn’t cold. I didn’t feel shocky. I felt a little numb and almost outside of myself as I watched the chaos around me.

  Gosh, if this is what one kiss was going to do, I didn’t think we should progress to the naked parts.

  "Well this is interesting," The masculine baritone caressed my ears and left goose bumps across my skin.

  I found myself staring at beautifully shaped feet. Most men didn’t have beautiful feet. It surprised me enough that my eyes travelled without thought, upwards over muscled calves and thighs. I was slightly disappointed to find the manly bits covered. Choking back a giggle because the man in front of me seemed to be wearing a skirt, I continued my inspection.

  It was if someone had poured the epitome of male beauty into a single vessel and dropped him in front of me. He made Drew look like a child. My gaze caressed the muscled stomach up to his barrel chest, unbearably defined and smooth. In fact everything was smooth. I didn’t think that he had any hair at all.

  That thought made me pause but only long enough to dismiss the absurdity of finding any fault with his sheer perfection. This alone should have made me more wary. I ignored it. As it turns out, Zachary - or Zeus as
the humans called him - was exuding enough pheromones to knock out a herd of hippos. This power is part of what made him the ruler of the gods.

  I didn’t know this and continued to stare, besotted.

  His jaw was square with a dimple in the chin, making a perfect cleft and his Romanesque nose rested majestically between piercing aquamarine eyes. Not blue. Never blue. They were a cross between the color of the Caribbean Ocean and the deepest gems. Such perfection, his eyes. Golden hair flowed from his widow’s peaked forehead around his face like a windswept dream.

  People paid untold riches to gain this sort of perfection. I wanted him to touch me or consume me. It didn't matter which it was because without thought, I was in absolute love.

  "Zachary, No!" Drew called out and reached for me before he was frozen in place.

  Who was this person interrupting this monument to perfection in human form? I languidly shifted my gaze to Drew and was knocked quite rudely out of my trance by the devastation that surrounded me. I had to shake my head to clear it. What was going on here?

  "You do not order me, Adonis. You obey me. I am your GOD!" He took a threatening step toward Drew and stopped. "You should not have kept her hidden. You should have told me immediately when you found out where Diana had hidden her bastard child!" He turned those piercing angry eyes on my protector and I could see Drew’s face tighten in pain.

  I scrambled to my knees, my eyes searching for some kind of weapon. Where were Drew’s weapons? I know he’d had a gun. I searched desperately for the weapon while my mind whirled. Zachary, where had I heard that name? God! Why had I drunk so much? Weapon! I needed a weapon.

  "Ah ah ah, pretty girl. You aren’t going anywhere."

  I heard the glass crunch under his bare feet as I felt his strong fingers wrap around my neck. He lifted me effortlessly into the air as though I weighed nothing. I struggled, but to no end. He wasn’t budging and the more I moved, the less I was able to breathe.

  My body hung limply from this man’s fingers. I was a rag doll. If he didn’t loosen his grip I was going to suffocate.