Masters of the Hunt: Fated and Forbidden

by Sarra Cannon

  A hungry rumble vibrated from Drake’s throat. The sensual sound caused her insides to warm. She leaned closer, curious by her body’s reaction. His natural scent, rich like red wine, filled her nose. The thin fabric of his silk shirt hid an expanse of lean muscle. When he smiled again, exposing two long fangs, she snapped out of her stupor. “Don’t even think about it bloodsucker.”

  Her feet skid over the desk’s slick surface as she scrambled away. Caught off guard by the heat between them, she lost her footing. Her arm scraped along the edge of the desk, an attempt to regain her balance. It failed. As she fell flat on her back, Drake shot from his seat and grabbed for her. He caught her head and shoulders in his arms a second before her skull could make impact with the desk’s unforgiving steel top.

  “Easy now. I’d never hurt you, Jame.” Helping her to sit up, he cradled her body closer and pulled her to the edge of the desk. “Are you unharmed?”

  An electric current ran through her blood, the source emanating from Drake’s strong yet surprisingly tender touch. She struggled to think. Her arm ached. She held it up to the light. A bright red streak ran from her wrist to elbow. He stood before her and captured her forearm in a light grip. Keeping his black eyes locked on hers, he used his tongue to trace the path of the injury. Her blood glistened on his lips as he sealed the wound. He moaned when the heavenly taste slid down his throat, flames glowing in the depths of his gaze.

  She blinked once, twice. Her brain refused to process the desire racing in her veins from his provocative healing method. Her voice sounded weak in her ears as she said, “Thank you.”

  “It is my pleasure, Kitkat.” He sat on the metal chair once more. His chains clanked as they scraped across the cement. He kept his dark gaze fixed on her. The slight glow hinted at hidden pleasures. “Now, I think you were going to question me. No doubt using your wiles to extract information.” He smirked, brushing a hand at her. “Please continue. I’ve been so looking forward to it.”

  Ewww! Jame resisted the urge to bang her feet against the desk. The curses flitted through her mind too fast to choose one. She was supposed to be using her charms on him, not the other way around. No way could she lose the upper hand to this cocky vampire. A cool smile played on her lips. “I’ll bet you have.”

  “Ah that’s my girl. Good comeback.” He stretched his legs so his feet rested under the desk. Black jeans offset the crimson silk covering his chest. Tiny buttons trailed from his collarbone down to his waist. A black leather belt stretched around his chiseled abdomen. If it wasn’t for his spiky blonde hair, he could have graced the front cover of a Gothic GQ.

  She swallowed, unsettled by this sudden attraction. She’d resolved to put Talon behind her, but fawning over a vampire—especially one as arrogant as Drake—did not fit into her new plan. She needed to fight this. “Tell me about Strife.”

  “Jealous, are we?” His eyes seared into her as if stripping away every layer.

  “Maybe. What does she mean to you?” She batted her eyelashes, feeling back in the game.

  He winked at her. “Excellent.” Leaning forward with a conspiratorial regard, he placed two manacled hands on either side of her thighs. “She’s an old friend. No one for you to worry about, Kitkat. I’m all yours.”

  “An old friend, huh?” She bent at the waist so he’d either be staring straight at her breasts or he’d have to look up into her face. To his credit, he titled his chin and met her eyes.

  “Yes.” His deep gaze held gold in its depths. “Just a friend.”

  She fought the compulsion to inch closer and studied her unpolished nails as a distraction. “And does this friend have anything to do with the code black?”

  “Yes and no, luv. Depends how you look at it.” His hands gripped the table, the muscles in his forearms straining.

  “And how should I be looking at it, Drake?” She rested her hands atop his shoulders, caressing the smooth silk under her fingertips.

  He murmured his approval at her touch. “We have an interesting mix of characters here, do we not?” He swept a finger across her lips, an undemanding gesture, but it set a match to her desires. “No, Kitkat. No need to answer. I know you agree. Talon has his misguided, black and white notions of right and wrong. Bull contends with the misery of his vampiric nature by hiding under a Texan cowboy persona. The half-breed—”

  “You mean Slick?” She purred, tightening her grip on his shoulders.

  “Yes, him. He is but a boy trying to play a man’s game. And then, there’s you, luv. So young, so desirable. And consistently overlooked by the fools around you.” He rose to his feet, towering over her. His knuckles brushed her cheek as he reached behind her to pull the tie from her hair. Unbound the black and platinum streaks fell in waves past her shoulders. With soothing strokes, his fingers sifted through her hair. His chains rattled with every pass.

  “Hmm.” She centered on keeping her cool, as if the sparks flying from his touch were no big deal. “And...” Her breathing fell erratic when he moved closer. She clamped her legs shut forcing him to stand to her right side. “What does this all have to do with Strife?”

  He glanced at her locked knees and smirked. Wrapping his arms around the chains, he jerked them forward. The iron gave way, a good eight inches, allowing him to sit on the desk next to her. “The PCD is an eclectic group as I’ve demonstrated. The same is true of Veritas.” He rubbed his chin. “The two organizations have much in common.”

  “Ok.” Jame scooted to the left, trying to put some space between them. “And Strife?”

  “Strife is to Veritas, like Talon is to the PCD. She is a leader in this part of the world.” He cocked his leg on the desk, closing some of the distance between them. “Both are bent on justice. Veritas is not the enemy you think it. But I know who is.”

  “Do you?” She pushed wisps of hair behind her ears. “And who’s that?”

  “Phage,” he whispered the word like a curse. His jaw clenched. The veins of his forehead pulsed in a deep blue rhythm. His eyes looked beyond the here and now to something unknown.

  Jame’s heart leapt at the sight. She’d never suspected Drake was capable of such hate. Sure he fought with Slick almost daily, and yeah, he’d taken down baddies in the heat of a fight, and okay, the whole vampire thing, but this? “Hey, Drake. Come back. Wherever you are now, just come back.” She massaged his calf with no response. She tried slapping his face, gentle then harder, but still he didn’t come out of the fog. Sighing, she tried the one no fail tactic she could think of to rile a vampire, she bit his neck.

  The taste of him awakened deeper desires within her. Her senses begged to shift, break the surface of his skin, and pull his blood into her mouth. She shot backward, shaking at her reaction.

  He reached forward, grabbing her by the wrist and locking her in place. His dark stare flashed with crimson red. He pulled her against the hard planes of his chest. His arms clamped around her back, his chains cooling her skin. Two fangs extended forth and inched toward her neck.

  “Drake, stop it,” she cried halfheartedly. The need to let him sink his teeth deep inside overwhelmed her. This unbidden lust spiked her fears more than the vampire about to take a bite out of her.

  As the cry to stop left her lips, he snapped away from her. She stumbled at his swift movement, but readjusted herself on the desk. He rose, facing the far wall and breathing heavily.

  “Drake?” A tremor passed through her as the air between them grew frigid. “Are you alright?”

  “Peachy,” he said. “A moment for the prisoner, Agent Bradshaw.”

  “Yeah, sure.” He wanted to pretend like nothing happened? Fine. No skin off her nose. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t take too long. You haven’t answered my questions.”

  “Business it is then.” He turned to her and sat on the chair. This time he kept his feet on the floor. No part of his body reached for her in anyway. Even his look appeared aloof.

  The temperature dropped a few degrees
more. “We know about the phage.” She searched her memory for the details. “They’re trying to gain recognition by the government as a legitimate SUB. Why should they be on our suspect list?”

  “Because they’re evil in a way you can’t even begin to comprehend.” His tone darkened.

  “The same was said of vampires once.”

  His ominous laugh coated the room in anger. “True enough. But we vampires are like angels next to these devils.”

  Jame shifted her legs, uncomfortable with this development. She tried to get it back on track. “Ok, but what does it have to do with the case?”

  “My sweet shifter, don’t you review the evidence?” Gone was any trace of warmth in the vampire. “The victims were bitten, pieces of their flesh torn off. The phage live off human flesh.”

  “Maybe.” She recalled the suspect list. The phage claimed to eat raw animal meat, not human flesh, but she thought it best not to mention that little tidbit. “The victims were also drained of blood.”

  “Yes. And that should be your main clue. Or didn’t you know, luv?” He jumped up. His fists slammed on either side of her hips.

  She refused to let him intimate her. “Know what?”

  “Phage.” His eyes took on that faraway look again. “Phage can’t drink blood.”

  Chapter 14

  EN ROUTE TO SAFE HOUSE, SECRET LOCATION

  “Yeah, yeah.” Sera scrunched her nose in distaste as the plain white tennis shoes squished along the dirt. The half size too small sneakers Talon had given her—though where he’d found them aboard the plane was anyone’s guess—pinched her toes. She’d been overzealous in trying to save her cute wedge sandals from getting ruined and tossed them aside before fighting the creatures in Phoenix. Unfortunately, she’d been unable to retrieve them with Talon’s unyielding order to flee the scene.

  She kicked her feet in the dirt, muttering, “I’ll come when I’m damn well ready.” As the mosquitoes ate at her ankles and some huge monster insect flew passed her face, she decided she was ready. The humungous stalks, however, didn’t help her sense of direction. “Could you gimme a clue?”

  His arm sprang out from nowhere and circled her waist. “Don’t want you to get lost now.” He ushered her forward with a gentle push. “I’ll follow your behind.” He coughed. “Behind you. I’ll follow behind you. Just keep heading straight.”

  A smile spread across her face. “Sure.”

  By midday, they reached the house—or rather the mansion. It sat in the middle of nowhere, a behemoth two-story Colonial with a wide wraparound porch. Her breath hitched as she marveled over the expanse of ivory columns, the floor to ceiling windows, the crisp white walls, and the dark green shutters. “It’s like I’m going to see Scarlet O’Hara.”

  A momentary smile touched Talon’s lips as he fiddled with something under the porch. He rose with a keypad in hand. “No Southern belle’s home was ever decked out like this.”

  A couple of quick flicks along the keypad brought down steel gates on all the windows. Around the house’s perimeter, electrified spikes burst from the ground, droning with energy. A woman’s voice sounded from the front door, “Alarm system activated. Safe House Beta engaged.”

  In her shock, Sera stumbled. “Geez, Talon. When you said a safe house, I was thinking more witness protection, little cabin in the woods, a cheap motel or something.” She looked around uneasy. “Not a Southern mansion with a Star Trek fetish.”

  His blue eyes zeroed in on her, a taunting gleam in the depths. “With all the shit you’ve seen in the past days, the house freaks you out?”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Good point. Alright then, lead on.”

  Another set of numbers and the door opened. Talon walked inside first, flicking switches as he went. Sera stayed at the door, scanning the interior. “You sure the house doesn’t bite, right?”

  Rolling his eyes, he waved her inside. “It does, but prefers brunettes.” He pointed to his rich black hair. “Don’t worry. I’ll fend it off for you.” He disappeared down a side hall, leaving her to face the house alone.

  After fighting those freaky creatures twice, seeing a glowing man who claimed to be her grandfather twice, and dealing with a voice in her head countless times, you’d think a creepy computerized house would be no problem. She shook her head at the stupidity. On unsteady legs, she made it inside and breathed a sigh of relief. Poking her head around, she noted the interior.

  A cavernous front hall boasted a glass chandelier and sweeping staircase. She gasped, awed by the grandeur. Daring further, she spied a formal dining room to the right, complete with a twelve seat mahogany table, and two smaller rooms to the left. The first room boasted an empty office with an antique oak desk and stacks of bookcases filled to the brim. The second room featured a cozy living area accented in hues of beige and brown. A leather couch that looked as soft as butter rested across from a brick fireplace. Two equally comfortable looking chairs sat on either side of it. The wood resting in the hearth called her name. She dashed over to the tiles at its base. Kneeling on them, she placed her hand against a log and concentrated. “Let’s give it a try.”

  Guy started to shout inside her mind. She turned down the volume on the rock anthem with the caveat he keep quiet. No more fighting. His voice returned to normal. Good, you’re learning. It’ll make the connection easier.

  I can always tune you out again. She gritted her teeth. Her arm began to burn.

  No, pet. I’ll be silent. He hummed a soft melody, then added, But use me when you need me. I’m here. We’re here.

  Who’s we? The pain grew intense as flames licked her skin.

  All of us, pet. You’re family.

  Spots of light ignited in front of her eyes. She tried to swat them away, but the fire claimed her arm. It circled around her elbow and wrist, bursting inside her blood. She opened her mouth to scream, but lost the urge as a gentle voice sounded in her mind. I’m here, my granddaughter. Do not fear, child. We are with you now. We are a part of you. Our power is yours.

  The blaze grew, but it didn’t burn her. Centering along her arm, it escaped from her palm and ignited the log. She looked on in awe as her hand cooled and the glow in the fireplace brightened the living room.

  “And that’s why you’ll stay here.” Talon’s words cut as hard as ice.

  “Talon, I—” She jumped. Her voice caught in her throat. She spun to stare into his face. Gone was the teasing warmth of a moment ago, replaced by a frigid anger.

  “Who are you, Sera?” He took a menacing step forward. “What are you?”

  “I’m just me. And you’ve already seen what I can do.” She stood tall, refusing to be put down for her abilities. She’d been running since high school, her own father having chased her away. Gentle warmth ran through her blood, words of comfort abounded in her mind. It was time to stop running.

  “Yes, I have.” The hearth fire reflected in his cerulean blue eyes, blazing strong and clear. His body crowded her slender frame as he advanced, forcing her to the wall. His muscles strained, rigid like a granite slab. “But that doesn’t answer my question. What are you?”

  Her hand clutched the fireplace’s mantle for support. The cold stone warmed in her grip. She braced her foot against the wall, pushed off, and stood toe-to-toe with Talon. She wouldn’t be cornered. “I don’t know. And if you’re going to act like some bully, you can forget my cooperation.” Stabbing a finger into his chest, she rose on tiptoe to close the height gap between them.

  His face softened. The hard lines around his eyes smoothed. His clenched jaw lost the tension on an exhale. He opened his mouth to speak, but as he did, Sera lost her balance. Standing on the balls of her feet, the damnable too small shoes slipped from her heels. She stumbled forward and into the wall of his chest. As he caught her in his arms, he laughed a low sound of arrogant male.

  “Careful. I’m easy to fall for.”

  She scrunched her nose, kicking off the offending sneakers. “Oh come on. How long
were you waiting to use that one?”

  He gave her a wolfish grin. “If it works.”

  She half smiled and regained her balance. He didn’t let her go. His eyes locked on her face as if waiting for something. The awkward silence continued, until he took a breath and said, “Please Sera, tell me what you know.”

  “My family? Who I am? Where I come from? Not my favorite topics.” She sighed, letting her mind drift over the scant details she knew of her heritage. “My mother died giving birth to me and my father refused to talk about it. He said just that she was different. Special. He said I was like her.” The words stuck, her heart splintering. She pulled from his embrace and looked away to blink back unshed tears.

  “I’m not human. But I’m not psyke either.” Guy hummed through her mind. “I have a link to my family, to others like me, I think. I don’t know for sure.” A ragged breath later, she lifted her chin and met his eyes. Memories haunted her. Every mistake she ever made seemed highlighted under his scrutiny. “I’m not a bad person.”

  His brows pulled together. A curious gleam lit his stare. He cleared his throat before speaking. “You’re not a bad person. I know evil. I’ve seen it.” His palm cupped her cheek, an achingly gentle touch. “And I’m sorry about your mother. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” She placed her hand over his, reveling in the feel of his fingers on her face.

  “Sera.” He pulled his hand away, fisting it at his side. A roar ripped from his throat. “Christ. What am I doing?” The agony in his tone tore at her heart. “You’re an unregistered SUB. You’re an eyewitness in a mass murder. You could be a—”

  “A what?” she cried, grabbing at his upper arms. The muscles pulsed under her touch.

  He locked eyes on the floor. His voice lowered to a whisper. “A suspect, Sera. I’m a federal agent. I’d be an idiot not to add you to the list.”

  “You think I killed all those people?” She trailed her fingers down his forearms, lingering over his closed fists. He couldn’t believe she was a killer. He couldn’t.