The Jaded Hunter

by The Jaded Hunter(Lit)

  Tyr pulled her elbow, arching her back forward, pressing her breasts hard into the wall, forcing her bottom into his male sex. He let her feel what she did to him, rubbing his length to her backside in an even stroke. Jaden’s breath shuddered from her mouth as he mimicked another slow thrust. His wide open lips hissed by her ear.

  Tyr drew forward letting his mouth settle by the pulse in her throat. Taking his tongue, he lapped deeply over her skin. He felt her pulse speed beneath his wet caresses, heard the matching rhythm in his ears. He could smell her blood filling with ripening passion and her womanhood with a downpour of desire. Grazing his sharpened teeth over her skin, he didn’t harm her, but showed her how much he could hurt her. He let her feel his strength, his power, his complete control over the situation.

  And when he was sure she knew that he could take anything he wanted from her by force or otherwise, he whispered against the sweat beading on her flesh, "Say it again, Jade. Say please. Ask me to do it."

  Before she could answer, Tyr swung her around. Jaden gasped at the sudden release, only to be caught and steadied by his embrace. Everything became a dim haze as her vision sought only him. He leaned over her, not touching except for the exploring of his little finger trailing from beneath her chin down her throat in slow circles. His free hand pressed to the wall behind her head, trapping her within his reach.

  Jaden couldn’t speak. The impression of his need still burned into her buttocks. Her gaze drifted to his chest, afraid to meet his eyes. She couldn’t chance his gaze. If his voice and his touch evoked such longing, his eyes would be the kiss of death to her composure.

  His mouth came forward gently. Her eyes fluttered closed, anticipating his touch. His tongue darted to trace the seam between her lips without deepening the gesture into a kiss. Jaden felt her knees weaken. Her hands wrestled with the air, clenching and unclenching in an effort to remain calm. Finally, she found a secure anchor in the thin sweater covering his waist.

  "Ask," he whispered, urging her to answer him. His lips brushed her tenderly with the word. His mouth captured her breath.

  "I--I can’t," she panted. She turned her face away. She knew if he touched her, tried to force her as he claimed he might, she would succumb to him--willingly. Her body screamed for fulfillment. Her lips pulsed, swollen as if she had been kissed hard and long. Tyr drew back, his eyes seemed to glint with sadness at her refusal but the emotion was gone before Jaden could focus her thoughts enough to study him.

  Seeing his face, his painful withdrawal, Jaden realized that he couldn’t force her. For all his power and natural primal instincts, he couldn’t ravish her. It wasn’t in him. Straightening, he said, "Sit down. I have no need for a standoffish mortal in my bed when I can seek a willing one out with ease."

  The jibe was like a well placed smack across her face. Jaden took a slow breath, waiting until he was once again seated before following. Taking her placing far away from him, she turned. Nervously, she waited for him to speak.

  Tyr’s eyes stared blindly into the fire, seeming to get lost in time. She watched the orange glow bathing his pale skin, reflecting off the deep dark blonde of his head. Her eyes measured the width of the black turtleneck, detecting folds of muscles in the chest. And beneath the sleeves, she was held breathless by the size of his large arms--arms that could crush a person into the ground, arms that could wrap around a body and hold it tight, arms that could control.

  Jaden shivered, tearing her gaze away to the safety of the flames. Her body raged with emotion. She hated the baseness of her passion, the persistence of her hunger. After some time passed, each gathering their wits to continue the game of deceit set before them, Tyr deemed himself ready to speak.

  "What did you learn of your uncle?" he asked quietly in a speculative murmur.

  "Am I on trial now?" she asked sharply. Her eyes snapped to his. She looked for any sign of what transpired between them. There was nothing. He looked completely unaffected by her. "It hardly seems fair. I have yet to be charged."

  "Your uncle has secrets," he murmured, thinking of the night he found her drugged on Rick’s bed.

  "Everyone has secrets," she answered tersely. "It isn’t a crime. And I have none I wish to tell you."

  Tyr allowed a rueful smile. He had to give it to her. She was strong and she fought him relentlessly at every turn. However, it would be easier for him if she just told him what he needed to know. Fighting the barriers in her mind would be very draining.

  "It seems we are at an impasse," he sighed.

  "Then let me go. Let me just walk out of here."

  "I can’t do that," he denied with a glance to her solemn face.

  "Why? The council?" she asked, frightened by the prospect.

  "Yes, among other things. This place is in the middle of the Jotunheimen mountain range, the Norwegian wilderness. We are twenty miles from the nearest town. Beyond this cave even though it is still summer there is the snow, unexpected fog so dense you can’t see your hand, and rain. And if you don’t freeze, you may just get lost long enough in the wilderness to starve."

  "Then take me to a city," she pleaded. "Any city. I can disappear from there. You’ll have no reason to come for me again."

  "I cannot. The long summer daylight makes this an affected prison for my kind. The dawn and dusk peek out from the heavens all night around."

  "But, you’re here now," she said, not trusting his words. "Can you not go out at night at all? And where is your coffin? You must go somewhere to sleep."

  "I sleep on the bed. This place has been consecrated as a tomb so I may rest at leisure. As to the Norwegian nights, I am so old that I have built a tolerance to the dusk and dawn when the sun has yet to show. Though it is draining, I can survive. And these tunnels lead all through the mountains."

  "You must have someone helping you," Jaden said logically.

  "Yes, I do."

  Jaden shivered. He would only reveal such information if he wasn’t worried about her revealing it to anyone else. Had her fate been sealed then? Was he just biding his time with her until the tribal council ordered him to bring her forth to them? Shivering, she had to change the subject. She had to concentrate on finding out what he knew without revealing herself to him, without admitting to the full extent of her crimes.

  "Well," she began, twisting her mouth dryly, "since you are so talkative tonight, why don’t you see if you can translate this? If anything, it might prove amusing to you."

  "What is it?" he wondered aloud, reaching out for the paper she offered from her front pocket.

  "You tell me," she countered

  Tyr look took the paper in his hand and laughed. "It is very amusing, is it not? Where did you find it?"

  "In a book," she said blandly. "So you can read it?"

  "I can read many languages and speak almost all. It was part of my training," said Tyr. "If you wanted to know all you had to do was ask. This test wasn’t necessary."

  "Prove it." Her face was blank as he turned to her. She refused to admit she didn’t know herself. "How do I know if you are bluffing? Translate if for me. Say the words."

  "Tyr," he began reading his name in her hurried script, "of the Dark Knights, tribe of Drauger."

  Jaden leaned closer to hear his low words, scooting towards him on the couch. His accent became thick as he spoke. Her eyes studied his lips as they moved, turning over each word in a taunting caress of air. When he stopped and glanced at her in curiosity, she urged, "Go on."

  "This fearsome warrior is widely known." Tyr stopped again, looking at her inquisitively. Jaden swallowed, nodding for him to continue. A strange sensation curled within him, reading the legend his name had become. Quietly, he murmured, "I am known as a heartless and cruel warrior. I use my massive strength to crush my victims and I do my duty to obtain whatever information I am sent to acquire."

  Jaden nodded. It was pretty much what Mack had told her except for the crushing part. She began to lean back, stopping when he continued on.


  "I never fail in my duty," his eyes meaningfully lifted from the page, the rest memorized, "and I am a great punisher of vampijorivic crimes. The council sends me to watch and to judge. I have sexual prowess irresistible to women. They cannot deny me."

  There it is, Tyr thought a bit cynically. All my years narrowed down to a few cold sentences.

  Jaden shivered. A roguish smirk threatened the side of his face, as he added, "And I am a great lover."

  "It doesn’t say that," she denied with bated breath, not knowing if it was true.

  He smiled and shrugged sheepishly. The paper dropped from his hand as he made a move to crawl towards her. Whispering, he asked, "Are you asking me if it is true?"

  Jaden trembled violently. She couldn’t move away from him. Her body stung too disobediently with need. Her vampire tormenter ran so hot and cold. His mood could turn from leisure to passion and back again in an instant and it was wreaking havoc on her senses. Her body couldn’t keep up. At his dark look, all the passion she had spent the last half hour smothering alighted anew. She didn’t answer.

  "Are you asking me?" he growled again, his body drawing nearer. His piercing eyes demanded an answer she was too afraid to give.

  * * * *

  New York City, New York

  "Jade is dead. I know that bastard killed her, sir." Rick rubbed the back of his neck wearily, his finger unconsciously going to the invisible wound on his throat. There was no sign of the vampire’s bite. It was almost as if it had never happened. He was still weak from the blood loss, but his strength was coming back in great strides. Thoughts of revenge were the greatest fuel for his improvement. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help the small curiosity of why he was left alive. Grimacing, he placed his hands on Mack’s desk. Leaning over, he vowed, "I’ll avenge Jaden or die trying."

  Mack studied Rick carefully. He wasn’t as sure as the soldier was about Jaden’s fate. Dead, she would be no use to Tyr or the vampire council. Pietro assured him that she was unharmed for the time being. If Mack ensnared Tyr at the right moment then Jaden would be safe and he would have everything he had ever worked for.

  Eyeing the young man’s face, red with bloodlust and determination, he nodded. "Be ready in five minutes. I’ll meet you downstairs in the car."

  Rick spun, striding from the room to pack a bag. Mack leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully watching where the soldier disappeared through the doorway. Lighting a cigar, he rolled it between his lips as he moved to open his sun dial safe. Rick would be a good man to have along on this trip. His anger and desire for vengeance would make him an even stronger warrior and greater ally. Angry men with a purpose were easier to manipulate.

  Lifting the folder from the safe, he dropped it on the desk. The insides shifted, showing a page number in the upper right corner. Mack frowned, tearing the front flap of the folder open. His eyes flew to the bookcase, to the vacant space on the highest shelf.

  With an angry howl, his teeth bit through the end of his cigar. The tobacco fell unheeded to the floor to sprinkle burning ash beneath the desk. Mack spit out the tip and stomped the ash out with his heel. Grabbing the folder, he threw it against the wall. Papers skidded and spilled over the floor. Rick had told him everything that happened, even discovering the large book in Jaden’s missing bag. But never had he dreamt that Jaden would’ve deceived him. Never had he expect this betrayal.

  "My God, Jaden," he growled venomously. His eyes lit with desperation and fire. He knew his niece couldn’t understand what was written in the folder and wanted to believe she took it only to hide it and keep it safe. But, without knowing what she carried, would she be tempted to hand it to the dark knight for translation? Would she give it to the council? Mack trembled, feeling the rare instance of fear at the thought. Staring at the mess of papers on his floor, he shook his head. "What have you done?"

  * * * *

  Jotunheimen Mountain Range, Norway

  Ask me.

  Jaden’s mouth went dry. Tyr’s demanding tone echoed in her head. His eyes pierced with the fierceness of demons as he continued forward. His hands crawled over her legs, reaching with tiger-like paws to fit beside her body on the couch. He kept his weight above her, trapping her slender body beneath him. His expression was a mere look, steaming with possibilities.

  "I grow weary of these games," he said aloud, his face above hers. His self control was pushed to the limit. He could only cool his ardor so much. And knowing she wanted him, smelling that she did, didn’t make his struggle easier. If she would just forget her damned pride for the moment and beg him, all would be settled and then maybe he could concentrate on doing his duty.

  "Who’s playing games?" she whispered. "I find no enjoyment being on trial for my life."

  "No enjoyment," he chuckled, his eyes devouring her where his fangs longed to. In a low murmur, full of masculine promise, he answered, "That is no fault of mine."

  "I don’t want you," she denied. Her heart lurched treacherously. Her stomach ached and throbbed its potent acquiescence to his offer. "I can’t want you. And you don’t want me."

  At the obvious lie of her words, his eyebrow raised in question. Her body said very differently.

  "You cannot want me, vampire. You cannot want anyone. To truly want means you have to feel. And you don’t feel. You are an empty vessel, a timeless piece of driftwood sucking on humanity, watching us from afar, but never feeling. These relics of yours hanging on the wall are just relics--something that meant something to someone else, the skeletal remains of past humanity. That thing growing between your legs is just instinct, a bitter part of you that refuses to die like your soul. You cling onto it, envious of the life you snuff out. You’re pathetic and I don’t sleep with losers." Jaden glared, purposefully cruel. It was her only defense left. She had to keep him at arms length and if she had to be mean to do it, then so be it.

  Tyr retracted as if burnt. His body tensed and filled with outrage. He rose onto his knees with a swift, graceful pull.

  "And you are a killer! You have no conscience!" she said, emboldened by his withdrawal.

  Red veins gathered in his eyes, spreading like a demonic plague until the white completely disappeared. Jaden struggled for breath. She had never seen him so angry. She was afraid to move, afraid he would pounce and devour her if she dared.

  Tyr’s body slammed with impulse. His fingers tightened into fists. He wanted to kill, to hit her until she shut up. But he couldn’t strike her. He couldn’t hurt her. For her words weren’t entirely a lie. He did envy mortals. He envied their laughter and free flowing smiles. He envied their ability to love and be loved. All he was left with was duty, and he buried himself in it, refusing to get attached, never finding anyone he’d bring to be with him. Even if he wanted to turn someone to share his pain, he couldn’t.

  Dark Knights were not allowed to procreate. Passing the gift on weakened the blood and interfered with his responsibility. He couldn’t even find solace with his own kind. Though he could mingle within them, he couldn’t talk to them--tell them who he was because someday he might be called to kill them. It had happened before. It was easier not to form attachments. Tyr accepted this, understood it, and lived by it. And this mere slip of a mortal was challenging everything he was allowed to hold dear.

  Tyr jerked away from her, dashing swiftly to put distance between their bodies. He moved with unnatural speed, rotating around to direct his stiff back to her. There was nowhere to run. He felt her inside himself, curling comfortably in his brain, driving him past the point of reason. He fought the beast within, fought the torment of his dark soul. Manipulating himself so that he could again look at her, he turned back to bear witness to her wan complexion.

  Jaden was shocked by his sudden withdrawal. His eyes had been so intense it hurt her to look at him. Now, they were emotionless masks hiding whatever it was that floated in his head. The red was still tingeing the sides, but the blue once again dominated the orbs.

  "We are the same,"
he said at last, the tone hostile and dark. His voice rang dispassionate, crackling hoarsely. "You are a bloodstalker. I am a nightstalker."

  "There is a world of difference between us, Tyr," she denied weakly. She stood up from the couch holding on to the side, not trusting her legs to support her. She shook violently under his inspecting gaze.

  "Why?" he asked sharply. "We both kill."

  "You kill innocent.…" Jaden couldn’t finish the words. She was as guilty as he and she knew it. Well, maybe not on the same level. She thought she might be forced to explain her hesitance, but didn’t have to. He interrupted before she had a chance to retract.

  "And you kill vampires," he said enigmatically, his eyes threatening to fill again. Jaden had seen the red rage before, had been attacked by it. But never had she seen a creature keep it at bay. His accented words came in a low growl, strained by time and death, as he said, "Death is death. Your hands are stained red, as are mine. Death is the life that has chosen us."

  "Chosen us?" she squeaked, faced with his convictions when she no longer had any. She was frightened by the truth in his words, frightened by the thoughts she had and never said. Frightened that he may say them for her and force her to face what she couldn’t. Frightened by how much of the damning truth he might know.

  "Did you ask to be dhampir?" he continued, his head cocking to the side. The unnervingly calm creature was completely gone, replaced by a barely contained monster.

  "You’re all powerful," she sneered scornfully. "You should be able to tell."

  "Dhampirs are hard to read correctly," he admitted. Then, repeating in a softer tone, he asked again, "Did you ask to be a dhampir?"

  "No," she said vehemently. "I hate what I am."