Masters of the Hunt: Fated and Forbidden

by Sarra Cannon

  “Leaving us wasn’t any different,” Hallie said, tucking her hair behind her ear and trying not to cry. She’d done enough crying to last a lifetime, and this—this was supposed to be her moment of resolution, of closure. She didn’t want to feel her heart breaking all over again.

  “I know that now. But I didn’t handle my diagnosis well… I guess I thought that it’d be easier to just rip the bandaid off, so to speak. Rather than spend a year or two slowly dying in front of you.”

  Hallie nodded. It wasn’t unlike what she’d done to Matthew: a sharp break in their relationship, rather than a slow decay. It hurt like hell, but maybe it would be less painful in the long run. Or at least, that what she’d thought until now.

  But then, something else occurred to her.

  “Did Dani know any of this?”

  Louisa frowned.

  “Not really. She never knew why I left—she knew what I told the two of you in my letter. That I loved you and it was time for you two to take care of yourselves and each other. But I did call her once, about a month after I left, to explain that I was setting her up with an allowance for the both of you. To take care of anything you needed while you were on the road. She was supposed to be frugal, and I know for a while that was difficult for the two of you.”

  “Did you tell her to keep it a secret?”

  “No,” she said. “Didn’t she ever tell you where the money had come from?”

  Hallie shook her head. Now it made sense. Dani, with her inexplicable ability to come up with money right when they needed it: and always just enough, never much more.

  Louisa shifted in her chair, wincing and rubbing at her back. “Dani was angry, Hallie. Furious with me. I was a signer on that account and she never took the money unless she had to. I know because I hired a private detective to look in on you from time to time, and report back.” She sighed. “As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t let go of you two.”

  Hallie’s jaw tightened. “That’s not fair, you know. For you to get to spy on us and leave us in the dark. When you’re the one who left.”

  “I know,” she said. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  She held out her hand to Hallie, who took it. Her hand was frail, both bony and soft at the same time, and she squeezed Hallie’s hand once. Hallie squeezed back.

  They sat like this for some time, listening to nothing but the ceaseless rustle of the leaves around them and the slosh of the lake and the light wheeze of Louisa’s lungs.

  — —

  Matthew pulled the shiny red sedan he’d rented into the grass beside the Westie, breathing a sigh of relief. He’d found her. His instincts were right—and who knows, maybe hers were, too. Maybe she had found Louisa here. He hoped so.

  He climbed out of the car, then turned around to face it, feeling in his pockets for his phone. It had tumbled out of his pocket and onto the front seat, so he bent down to pick it up. But when he straightened, he backed into the something made of sharp, cold metal.

  “Always a pleasure, Matthew,” Jacob’s voice growled in his ear, sending shards of ice through Matthew’s bloodstream. If Jacob was here, then either he’d followed Hallie, or he’d followed Matthew. Either way, Hallie was in danger here, and it was his fault—again.

  “Fuck off, Jacob,” Matthew growled, unable to turn around due to the weapon—a knife, he realized—pinning him against the car. No sudden movements. Take your time. Wait, then disarm.

  “What’s the knife for?” Matthew asked, too enraged not to do a little taunting before he struck. “Would have thought a guy like you didn’t need such rudimentary protection.”

  “It’s not for me,” he said, and rage vibrated through the metal where it pressed against Matthew’s spine. “It’s for you.”

  “Hell of a lot of good it’s going to do you,” Matthew spat. “How stupid are you, anyway? Is that what you have to be, to earn the title of the longest-standing Guardian who hasn’t graduated from recruiter?”

  The knife pressed harder into Matthew’s back. “You’re laughing,” he snarled, “but don’t think I haven’t been tracking that bruise on your face. I put it there days ago. And the food poisoning… that was interesting. It got me thinking about why you're not healing properly… why you were able to walk out of the Belleyre house half on fire, but you can't recover from a couple of blows to the face, or some bad seafood."

  Matthew insides shriveled. The same questions had been running through his mind, but for Jacob to notice was far, far worse.

  "And then it got me thinking about the terms of your curse, so I checked with a couple of our superiors. And it turns out that this is what makes it so easy for Hallie to kill you. She's doing it slowly, a little at a time. Draining away your immortality. Eventually, she'll leave you shriveled, mortal, and dying. It's quite elegant: the more you love her, and the closer you get to her, the closer you get to death."

  "Liar," Matthew said. "You just want an excuse to come after us sooner, because you've realized we're through playing this game with you. I'm not letting you near her, and I'm not going to die. Can I make it any clearer for you?"

  Jacob merely chuckled .

  "I suppose we'll find out," he said, and slid the knife deep into Matthew's spine.

  Chapter 28

  Finally, she had her answers. Louisa’s sickness had torn them apart, sent Louisa into hiding. And as hurtful as it was, Hallie could understand. For all of her good, loving qualities, Louisa was also vibrant and restless—a lover of the road, filled with wanderlust. She always liked being admired and beloved by those she met, but wanted to seem fleeting, too. Magical. Her diagnosis would have been a slap in the face, a cold dose of reality that washed away the world Louisa had constructed around their little family.

  In their silence, something still gnawed at Hallie from the inside, half-formed and relentless, like a mosquito bite someplace she couldn’t reach. But she couldn’t figure out where to start, how to explain to Louisa that her mind and heart were mixed up, and she didn’t know how to fix it.

  After a while, Louisa turned to Hallie.

  “Is your friend here with you?”

  “Sorry?”

  “You mentioned earlier that you were traveling with a friend.”

  Hallie’s ears grew warm, and she shook her head. “No. I mean, not anymore.”

  “Where’d he go?”

  “He’s gone,” she said. Somehow saying the words made them more real.

  “Why?” Louisa pressed. She always was so nosy.

  “I left,” Hallie said. The hurt was fresh and raw.

  A pause. Then Louisa asked again, “Why?”

  Hallie sighed, staring down at her hands. Hands that had touched him, held him, comforted him even as he’d comforted her. “Because… when I’m with him, it’s wonderful, but it’s also terrifying. I get close to him and for while it’s okay, because it’s so easy to trust him. But he wants more, he wants everything, and the closer he gets the more afraid I become.” She plucked at the tab on her soda can.

  And it was true—in the beginning she’d coaxed him along, out of his dusty, decaying world of solitude and back into the land of the living. But somewhere along the way he’d turned the full force of his affections on her, and she’d been a coward. She’d run.

  “Why are you so afraid?”

  She scoffed. “It doesn’t take a genius to know it’s because everyone I’ve ever loved has left.”

  Silence filled the space between them. Not tense silence, but a mournful one. Hallie sighed.

  “I’m angry,” she continued. “I never realized how angry I really was. For a long time I was just angry at myself… but since I came on this trip I realize I’ve been angry with everyone else, too. You, Dani, my parents. And Matthew… I was ready to be angry at him before I even knew what he’d done.”

  “And what was that?”

  But Hallie shook her head.

  “Do you… I mean, you said you believed in signs, in fate. Do you believe in soul
mates, too?”

  She shifted in her chair just in time to catch Louisa’s surprised expression.

  “I don’t believe there’s just one person out there for everyone, Hallie. If it didn’t work with him, then there will be other men. I promise. It’s a big ocean.”

  Hallie shook her head. “No, I mean I’m asking if you believe it’s possible for the souls of two people to be—I don’t know—connected, in some way. In a way that predated either of their bodies, their physical existence?”

  Louisa was quiet, thinking. Then she nodded. “I think it’s possible,” she affirmed. “I never say never.”

  “Would you want to be in a relationship like that? Where all your choice was taken away because you’re meant to be with that person?”

  “Of course not,” Louisa replied, and Hallie’s heart sank. “But don’t be silly, Hallie. That can’t be how soulmates work. Even if we can’t choose who we fall in love with, we can always choose who we stay in love with.”

  She reached into the cooler and lifted out another bottle of water. She held this one to her forehead, then her neck.

  “Dani’s father, my ex, he wasn’t so different from your dad. My family never understood how I could love him. How I could stay in love with him. But I did, I did love him. I thought I could never stop. And then, one day, when I saw what he was capable of doing to our little girl… I decided to stop loving him.

  “So we have that power, Hallie. You can choose to stop loving Matthew, if you want. It won’t be easy. It will hurt. But you can do it. And he can choose to stop loving you, if he wants. If he really wants to, he will be able to stop.”

  Hallie laughed harshly. “That’s so romantic.”

  “It is, though. Think about it. Love isn’t fate, Hallie. It’s a choice—one we make every day.”

  Hallie’s throat clogged with tears when she thought of her words to Dr. Signer, the day they’d left Abingford. You talk like it’s a choice. But I have to do this… I have to go.

  But it had been a choice, hadn’t it? That’s what Louisa was saying. They’d been choosing each other all along.

  She was crying again, for about the millionth time in the last three days. She wiped her eyes with the paper towel Louisa handed her and laughed bitterly.

  “I’m not this girl,” she said. “I don’t fall apart. He makes me weak. Angry. Sad. Stupid. Ever since I met him, on this whole trip, I’ve been a mess.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to ward off her headache and the thought of how disgusted she was with herself.

  To her surprise, Louisa smiled.

  “It’s not weakness to be angry, Hallie,” she said, dragging her folding chair through the dirt so she could lay a hand Hallie’s arm, then brush the backs of her fingers across her cheek. “It’s not weakness to be sad, or to want things. To wish you’d had a happy family, or a normal childhood. Or to feel betrayed by the way you’ve been treated by those of us who are supposed to love you. None of that is weakness, Hallie. It’s human. What’s weak is not to care at all. To be so afraid, so cowardly, that you tell yourself nothing matters, or that you’re better off alone.”

  Louisa’s words slipped deftly past all of Hallie’s defenses, settling somewhere in the aching hollow of her chest, where they seemed to take root, then expand to fill the space.

  “I’m not,” she said. “Better off alone, I mean.”

  “No,” Louisa agreed, “you’re not. And I have to say that it gives me a little pleasure to see you so rattled over a young man… I think love should challenge us, make us grow, and he seems like a good one. I have to love someone who loves you so much.”

  Hallie scuffed her sandals in the grass, which tickled the sides of her foot. “He is. He does.”

  “Are you going to go back for him?”

  Hallie opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, someone screamed her name from the base of the hill. Hallie froze, watching as a young woman came bounding towards them in jeans and a plaid blouse, her long dark hair flowing behind her.

  “Hallie, thank God—you must come quickly, it’s Matthew—”

  Hallie gaped. She knew that face. Recognized the piercing cool eyes and the pretty heart-shaped face, the perfectly pursed lips.

  “Christine?” Hallie said, standing up. “Ms. Belleyre?”

  Chapter 29

  "You can call me Christine," she said breathlessly, extending her hand to each of them. She spoke with a rich Southern accent, and if not for her plaid top and jeans would look like the picture perfect Southern belle. “Please, we really must hurry. My partner has found Matthew, and they're both in the woods."

  She strode off without another word, taking for granted that Hallie would follow her. Hallie muttered hasty apologies to Louisa, gave her a hug, and promised to return and explain later that night. Then she hurried after Christine, whose dark, heeled boots left deep impressions in the mud.

  "I'm sorry," Hallie said as she trailed behind her, "Who is your partner?"

  "Jacob. Tall, dark hair, vulgar mind. You’ve met.”

  Hallie froze, and it took a few steps before Christine realized that she wasn’t being followed anymore.

  “You’re one of them,” Hallie said. “You’re with the Guardians?”

  “For many, many years, yes. But I’ve since realized the error in my judgment, and no longer subscribe to many of their beliefs. Including those about you and Matthew, and a Guardian’s obligation to his charge.”

  “Beg your pardon?” Hallie asked faintly, but Christine shook her head.

  “We haven’t the time for this. Walk and talk at the same time,” she commanded, and led the way past the campsites and into the woods, where they quickly veered off the footpath.

  “So, wait,” Hallie panted, “you’re saying you’re a defector, then?”

  “Of sorts,” Christine replied. “For many years, though, I Guarded—just as Matthew would have. That’s our stated purpose,” she added. “To watch over mortals, to live among them, and to identify gifted souls—then guard and protect those souls when we find them. Some are brought into the fold and granted immortality. That is how I joined the Guardians… several years after Matthew left Abingford.”

  “What is your gift, then?”

  “Prophecy.”

  Hallie shook her head. “You said Jacob was your partner. How recently did you defect?”

  “Officially? About twenty-four hours ago. But I’ve been having my doubts about the Guard for much longer.”

  Hallie gave a harsh laugh. “What doubts?”

  “For a long time, I believed in them. In the cause. They were militant, but their purpose seemed so great, so cosmically important, that I came to see the pain they put Matthew through as necessary. He had broken their cardinal rule against fraternization. Love, as the most powerful emotion that exists, poses a threat to our mission. I thought that Matthew and Emmaline were proof of that. She had been gifted, but because she’d gotten involved with Matthew, she was dead.”

  Twigs broke beneath them, snapping under Christine’s boots and getting tangled in Hallie’s sandals. She cursed inwardly.

  “But you were wrong,” she said, feeling more than a little bitter. “It was Jacob’s fault, not Matthew’s, that Emmaline died.”

  “I know that now,” she said, and her voice seemed somehow smaller. “I’ve been a fool, and now, unless I—Matthew will pay for my foolishness.”

  When she spoke, Hallie could hear her voice reading the words she’d read in the diary, could hear Christine retell the story of Matthew’s love and loss and torture.

  “You stole the diary from Matthew’s house, didn’t you?’

  She flushed. “I did. I wrote in that diary about my conversion. My acceptance of Guardianship and Immortality. I didn’t want Matthew to know that about me, that I had joined the ranks of his tormentors. Especially since I was learning that his tormentors had never let him live a day in peace.”

  Her voice was small with regret, but it held a k
ernel of anger.

  “What is going on with Matthew now? Why does he have him?”

  “You’ve weakened Matthew. Jacob wants to see if you’ve weakened him enough for him to finish the job.”

  Hallie stumbled over a log and Christine caught her before she hit the ground. Hallie seized Christine’s forearm and looked her in the eye. “That’s how I’m supposed to kill him, then,” she said. “By loving him. By being with him.”

  Christine nodded.

  “You’re all sick.”

  “I know, dear. I know. But it’s not over till it’s over.”

  They picked up speed, hurtling over wild undergrowth, running as fast as they could through the woods, toward the place Christine said they’d camped.

  Finally, the trees broke, and they stumbled into a small clearing, where Matthew was tied to a tree, his head slumped forward. He was unconscious. Hallie ran to him.

  “Matthew—Matthew—wake up. Damn it,” she said, as she shook his shoulders, then tapped his face: first lightly, then harder. He smelled vile, like gasoline, and the smell burned her nose as she inspected him. The rope holding him up was drawn tight, and she rounded the tree, looking for the knot to release him. As she did, she noticed the blood that had soaked the back of his shirt and pants, and her gaze snapped back to his face, which she realized was sallow and paler than usual. She checked his pulse, her own heart seeming to slow as she realized that his pulse was faint—still there, but faint.

  She pressed her lips to his temple. “Please wake up,” she whispered. “Wake up. See me. I’m here.”

  His eyes fluttered open, and it took them a moment to focus on her.

  “Hallie,” he mumbled. “You’re back.”

  But just then, the sounds of a scuffle behind her made her whirl around. She hadn’t even noticed the tent pitched on the opposite edge of the clearing until Christine and Jacob stumbled out of it, her hair caught in Jacob’s grip as he half-dragged her into the clearing. He flung her to the ground and kicked at her temple; the resounding thud turned Hallie’s stomach.