Hunted (The Dirty Heroes Collection Book 13)

by Cassandra Faye

  Raising the bow, I aim, pulling back the string until I can feel the strain, but then the light shifts. It’s like the trees above moved in the breeze and let more light through for a moment, but it’s not right. The sunrise is warm and golden, and this is… colder. Almost like fog, or mist, except I can see through it perfectly.

  Well, almost perfectly.

  There’s a haze, a silvery wobble to the world behind it. Relaxing the bow, I squeeze my eyes closed, wiping them on my sleeve before I blink and look up again.

  Still there.

  What the fuck?

  I’ve been in these woods for over ten years and I’ve never seen anything this weird. Maybe I didn’t get enough sleep? Blinking again, I try to ignore the shimmering haze and move closer to the deer that seems completely oblivious to the strange glow in the air — and the sudden silence. The birds aren’t chirping anymore, and I can’t even hear the leaves shifting under my boots.

  This is fucking creepy.

  Under any other circumstance, I’d be turning around and marching my ass back to the cabin… but the buck is so close. Practically posing for me at the base of the ridge, begging to be dinner, and I need to feed Harper something other than sandwiches on this trip. I told her I’d provide for her. I promised her venison, a real meal, and lunch meat and wheat bread aren’t exactly a romantic dinner.

  Shaking my head, I try to ignore the silvery effect in the air and draw the bow again just as the deer turns to look at me. Directly at me. It’s like it can see me, as if it’s not just looking in my direction but at me. The sound of the birds calling out to each other doesn’t return, but I realize it’s not silent anymore. There’s something else in the air. A low hum, like the sound electricity makes when it’s running through wires, and it’s getting louder as the shimmering haze spreads, filling my peripheral vision.

  I want to run, but my muscles won’t listen.

  Instead my chest grows tight, lungs refusing to expand as panic inches its way up my spine. I know I shouldn’t be here. Something is very, very wrong.

  Inside the hum I swear I can hear something more. Something like whispers, words just out of earshot, and I curse myself for not wearing hunter orange out here. It doesn’t matter that this is private property, that there are signs posted and fencing along the property lines, some assholes might have decided to wander onto our land and if I get shot, it won’t exactly make a difference that they’re trespassing.

  Harper.

  The thought of her alone in the cabin, vulnerable, gives me the strength to move, but I don’t move in the direction I tried to. Instead of backward, I’m walking forward. Toward the buck, away from the cabin, away from Harper.

  “Stop it,” I whisper, and it takes way more effort than it should have to get my voice to work. Not that any of this makes sense, I don’t even know who or what the fuck I’m trying to talk to, but I don’t care. I have to protect Harper.

  The haze thickens as I move closer and closer to the buck, the hum so loud I can feel it in my teeth, and the damn buck isn’t running. It’s staring at me, and I can see what Harper meant about the look of their eyes.

  Dark. Empty. Hollow.

  There’s something wrong with it. Abnormal. It’s dangerous, and I can’t let it stay in my forest. I have the arrow notched and the bow drawn back before I even think of doing it, but that’s fine. It’s still staring at me, waiting to die, and I’m happy to oblige.

  It needs to die.

  The air shifts, the silvery haze pulsing, and I swear I can see the buck exhaling more of the strange mist just before I let the arrow fly. I hear the impact and it bolts, finally moving the way a deer is supposed to — away from the hunter. While I move down the ridge, I watch it stumble its way up the other side, blood staining the hair around the arrow as it disappears into the trees at the top.

  Shifting the bow onto my shoulder, calm slowly settles over me because I know it’s only a matter of time before it drops. Adrenaline will keep it going for a bit, but I know the shot was true. They always are.

  When I crest the other side of the ridge, the shimmer in the air is still present, but my eyes are glued to the blood trail on the leaves. I can’t focus on the weird hum, the strange whispery sounds, or the haze. None of that matters. I have to find the buck.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve walked when I finally see it in the shadow of a big oak tree. Everything is denser here, the sunrise not quite able to permeate the canopy above, and as I move closer, I can tell it’s already gone. Chest still, mouth open, and one black, empty eye staring up at the branches.

  As I pull off my backpack and prep the buck to field dress it, I can’t ignore the strange sounds any longer. The hum is constant, the almost-words filtering through like someone talking in another room.

  “Shut up,” I growl as I pull out my knife to make the first cut, but the haze only grows thicker. Surrounding me and the buck until it could be twilight instead of dawn beneath the ancient branches of the oak.

  Gritting my teeth, I plunge the blade in and my heart stops as my hand touches smooth skin instead of deer hair. Blood floods around the knife as I look up into Harper’s face, but she’s already gone. Empty eyed and still.

  “NO!” I shout, shoving myself away from her as the hum becomes painful in my ears. Squeezing my eyes shut, I cover my ears to try and block it out. “STOP! This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.”

  No, no, no, no, no.

  I wouldn’t hurt Harper. I’d never hurt Harper.

  I’m pretty sure I’m going to throw up, but when I open my eyes again, she’s gone. There’s just the buck and my knife in the leaves beside it. Shaking my head, I try to get a deep breath, but I can’t. The sound is turning into a roar, making me dizzy, and I crawl closer to the deer just to confirm that it’s real. That it’s not somehow Harper.

  Just as I touch it, the roaring hum disappears, leaving my ears ringing for a moment in its absence. But in the silence, I can hear whispers, a woman’s voice, still too quiet to make out.

  And then, as if she were speaking right against my ear, I hear one thing perfectly clear. ‘Loxley!’

  There’s so much hate and rage in the voice that I feel it like a crushing weight. I can’t breathe, can’t think, there’s only the silver haze coating me and the buck as the shadows grow at the edge of my vision.

  “Stop,” I whisper into the frigid mist, my hand landing on the knife when I reach out to steady myself.

  ‘Thisss isss your fate,’ the voice hisses, echoing off the trees, overlapping, and I shake my head, trying to clear my vision as the haze dims.

  “No… not me.” I shake my head harder, clenching the handle of the knife in my fist, prepared to fight for my life.

  ‘LOXLEY!’ the voice roars, and then there’s only black.

  My hands are cold, joints stiff, and as I force my fingers to open around the hilt of the knife, I realize they’re sticky with blood. Stumbling backward, I hit something, and a loud clap makes me jump and spin around.

  It’s a freezer.

  The big freezer. In the cellar.

  Shaking my head, I almost touch my forehead before I remember the blood and stop. My head is pounding, mouth dry, and an uncomfortable feeling of ‘wrong’ has settled deep in my bones.

  What the fuck happened?

  Looking at the table, I can see a mostly butchered deer, but I don’t remember bringing it back. I remember seeing a doe and deciding not to shoot… and then I saw a buck and… nothing. There’s a hole in my memory. An empty space. I must have shot it, but why can’t I remember field dressing it? Hauling it? Butchering it?

  Moving closer to the deer, I see the bags of ice piled around what’s left of it. But those hadn’t been down here. I’d thrown them in the freezer upstairs when we were unpacking the cooler, which means I brought them down after I killed the deer and hauled it back.

  Harper.

  Raw fear surges through me with adrenaline on its heels, and I
don’t know why I’m suddenly so panicked but I’m moving on pure instinct. Daylight pours in from the open cellar doors as I race up the stairs and run around the side of the house. When I throw open the door to the mud room, I shout for her, “HARPER!”

  A second later and I’m standing in the living room, breathing hard, but I don’t see her anywhere. Images of her dead and bloody flash through my head, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to be sick.

  “HARPER!” I call out for her again, moving toward the bedroom when she steps out of the kitchen.

  “Jared? What’s wrong?” Her eyes go wide, and she turns to set her coffee down on the counter before she rushes over to me. “Oh my God, are you okay? Are you bleeding? What happened?”

  My knees threaten to give out when I see her, but I just grab onto her arms instead, needing to feel her, to touch her, to hold her. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

  “Is there a reason I wouldn’t be?” she asks, and even though all I want to do is hold her, I let go when she shoves at my stomach. “You’re covered in blood, Jared. What the fuck happened?”

  “I…” don’t know what happened but I just snapped out of it downstairs, holding a knife, and unconsciously butchering a deer. No big deal.

  Yeah, definitely can’t say that.

  Holding onto her arm, I finally feel my heart slowing down again, all of the panic bleeding out of me as a strange feeling of happiness replaces it. When I try to explain, a laugh escapes instead, and it sounds a little too close to hysterical Joker level crazy for my own comfort, but Harper is okay. Harper is safe.

  Even though I have no fucking idea why I thought she wouldn’t be.

  “I’m fine. I just…” Shrugging, I laugh again. “I just got worried about you.”

  “Babe, I’ve only been up for like an hour. I took a shower and made coffee and I’m almost done with breakfast. I was going to come out and find you when it was ready.” Stepping back from me, she looks at her arms and wrinkles her nose. “Although I’m pretty sure I need another shower now. Is this deer blood?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I probably should have washed up before I came inside.”

  “That would have been a good idea,” she says, but there’s still a slight frown on her face, her brows pinched together with worry. “Are you sure you’re okay, babe? You sounded completely terrified.”

  Shaking my head, I almost shove my hand in my hair again before I stop myself and spread my arms wide instead. “Perfectly fine, and I’m almost done with the deer, so we’ll have plenty to eat while we’re here, and a ton to bring home.”

  “That’s good…” Harper sounds like someone talking to a wild dog, trying not to scare it off or make it angry, but I can’t really blame her when I busted in here covered in blood like a psycho.

  “Tell me what you want for dinner. Venison steaks? Dad has a grinder in one of the kitchen cabinets if you want me to make that ground venison casserole we had the last time we saw them. Just tell me what you’re in the mood for.” Keeping the smile on my face, I dance backward to the mud room door. “Come on, babe. Who’s your king of the outdoors?”

  She stares at me for another second before finally rolling her eyes and turning back to the kitchen. “You decide, babe. Just clean up before you come back inside, okay?”

  “Anything for you!” I call over my shoulder as I turn to the mud room, noticing the smears of blood on the door. There’s more on the back door, and I shake my head as I head around the house and down into the cellar. “Great job, Jared. Freak Harper the fuck out. That’s how you show her a romantic weekend. A-plus, genius fucking move.”

  Grumbling under my breath, I head to the freezer to see what all I accomplished in my weird blackout. There’s stacks of steaks wrapped in paper and a few plastic packages of the other meat that can turn into pretty much anything else. To be honest, I’m kind of impressed at how well I did while I was apparently off in fucking lalaland.

  Practice makes perfect?

  If I ever had the balls to tell Dad what happened to me this morning, I’m sure he’d be proud of me, but this is an event I’m taking to the goddamn grave. It has to be some side-effect of driving all day yesterday and only getting four or five hours of sleep — even though I felt fine when I got outside this morning. And I don’t feel tired now.

  But Harper is perfectly safe, and that’s all that matters.

  A hot shower was exactly what I needed. I feel more human, more functional, now that I’m clean and dressed. Of course, I’d feel even better if I could actually remember what the fuck happened this morning… but that doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen.

  It’s like I fast-forwarded through time, skipping everything between when I saw the buck and when I snapped out of it in the cellar.

  But everything is fine now.

  I’m okay. Harper is okay. I have all the arrows I left with, which means I didn’t try and take anything else down. The deer’s carcass is taken care of, we’ve got good food for the special dinner I have planned tonight… and the weekend is still on track.

  Digging to the bottom of my duffel bag, I feel for the edges of the box and pull it out, popping the lid. The little diamond isn’t very impressive, definitely not as nice as what some of those yuppie fucks in Connecticut could buy her, but I still think she’ll like it. The girl at the jewelry store had been so excited to help me, and when I’d told her how much Harper liked vintage styles, she’d hurried off to gather different options.

  This engagement ring was the third one she showed me, and I’d known the second she lifted it that it was the right one. It’s both simple and complex with the way the metal looks like it’s woven around the tiny diamonds on either side of the round stone in the center. The total diamonds aren’t even half a carat, but I still think it’s pretty. The sales lady had described it as delicate, and although I’d never use that word to describe Harper — it still fits her. I know she deserves more, and one day I’ll be able to replace it with something nicer. Something that might be worthy in the eyes of her family.

  She just has to say yes first.

  Tilting it toward the light, I try and imagine how she’ll react when I ask her. Will she be surprised? Will she jump around like she did when she aced her Biology final? Will she do that girly scream thing that happens in the movies? I don’t think she’ll cry, but she might. A happy cry, of course, but normally she only gets like that when she’s watching a movie about animals.

  “How are you feeling, babe?” Harper calls out from the living room, but I can hear her footsteps approaching and I quickly shut the ring box and shove it back to the bottom of the bag.

  “Much better,” I reply, standing up just as she appears in the doorway. I’m smiling, but she’s still wearing that concerned look from earlier when I scared the shit out of her. Forehead wrinkled, brows pulled together, she’s got her lips pursed and her mouth tilted to the side like she doesn’t believe me at all. “A shower is just what I needed. I promise, I’m all good.”

  “Okay. I’ll heat up some food for you, then maybe we can chill for a bit. Take a nap or something.”

  “I don’t need a nap, babe,” I say, following her into the living room. “We’ve got to head up to Mitchell Mountain soon or we’ll lose the light on the way back.”

  “We can do the big hike tomorrow. There’s no rush.” Her voice is so casual as she glances over her shoulder at me with a small smile, but I feel my stomach clench.

  “I really want to take you up there today.”

  “Is the mountain going to disappear tomorrow?” Harper asks, and her laugh as she takes the foil off a plate feels like sandpaper on my nerves.

  “No, the mountain will still be there. But… we have plenty of time to go up there today, and if we eat fast we’ll be up there at the perfect time for some awesome views.”

  “Jared, you left before dawn to go hunting, and then you were all badass king of the outdoors turning that deer into food downstairs.” Putting the plate in the m
icrowave, she turns it on and leans against the counter to look at me. “Can’t we just do a shorter hike closer to the cabin this afternoon? We can go whenever you want tomorrow.”

  Gritting my teeth, I try to think of some way to get her to go with me today. This was the plan. Ask her to marry me today, at the top of Mitchell Mountain, and then spoil her with a romantic, homecooked dinner from a deer I hunted for us. Then we’d get to spend the next two days having sex on every surface of the cabin, spending time as just us before we head home and tell everyone.

  “I want us to go today, Harper. I feel fine. I don’t want a nap, I don’t need one, and I really want you to see it.”

  “Jared…” Harper sighs and crosses her arms, her gaze on the floor between us as she shakes her head and my stomach twists.

  Did she find the ring while I was out? Is the trying to avoid me asking her?

  “Come on, babe. I thought you loved hiking?”

  “I do!” she replies, spreading her arms as she finally looks up at me again. “I love going on hikes with you, and I’m sure the views are epic, I just want to stay closer to the cabin this afternoon.”

  “Why!” My voice is sharper, louder than I meant for it to be.

  “I’d just rather go tomorrow, okay? Please?” The microwave beeps, and she turns away to pop the door open, as if the stupid food is more important than asking her to marry me.

  “Why won’t you stop arguing and just go with me today?” I snap, trying to rein in my frustration, but the groan she lets out just ramps it up further.

  “Why? Are you serious, Jared? You freaked out earlier, came in here covered in blood yelling for me, acting super weird, and you’re obviously exhausted. You didn’t sleep enough. Your eyes are all bloodshot, you look tired, and whether you think so or not you need a freaking nap, not a long hike up a mountain. We can go tomorrow!”

  “Would you shut up about the goddamn nap? I’m not a fucking toddler, Harper! I don’t need you telling me when it’s naptime or snack time like some fucking kid!” I shout, and I’m as surprised by the outburst as she looks. Shoving a hand into my hair, I grip it at the root, pushing back the sudden anger when I see Harper’s face goes blank and I know she’s upset. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “Ughhh! Fuck, I’m sorry.”