The Complete Wild Series (Emily Hunter Series)

by Lane Hart

  "Come on," I told him, as I led him down the hall. "Let's tell Susan you're home, then you can get a shower and some rest. When was the last time you slept in a bed? The Thursday night before they came?" I asked him.

  "That would be it," he answered with a sigh.

  The hearing on Friday was pointless. The attorney from Florida asked for a continuance. Apparently they needed more time to file their answer in response to our lawsuit against them. I knew it was just a B.S. thing to waste more time. I was tired of getting the run around and I just wanted to hold Lucas in my arms again and have all of this soap opera over.

  Laura Thompson, our civil attorney and her PR person suggested we do more TV appearances. Ben of course was hesitant, but knew it was all we could do to put more pressure on the court to hurry up and do the right thing.

  We made our rounds to all of the morning shows, telling our story and begging for them to give us back our son and Ben’s father. Ben answered all of the questions they had about what it meant to be a shifter. He was doing what he could do show the world he was gentle and caring, not scary or a threat. He'd even shifted into a golden retriever on live TV and the clip had gone viral. I wasn't surprised. What he could do was something people had never seen before, and didn't know was even possible. The support was overwhelming, and I was sure it was something a judge wouldn’t be able to ignore.

  Chapter Twelve

  Our day in court finally came. Five weeks after they'd taken Lucas and David from us we had a hearing. I didn't know what we would do if this went on much longer. Our civil attorney said we had a good shot with this judge because she had children, so maybe she'd put herself in our situation and hopefully help us.

  Ben, Susan and I took our turns testifying, answering all of their questions on the stand, under oath. When all the evidence had been heard the judge asked for a recess before announcing her ruling. Would she let the civil case continue on, or would she go ahead and find in our favor now?

  Those fifteen minutes were absolutely agonizing. Finally court was called back into session and the judge began.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Hunter and Mrs. Hunter, I regret that you have endured these heartbreaking circumstances. I find in your favor and order that David and Lucas Hunter be extradited back to their home in the Western District of North Carolina within the next twenty-four hours."

  I hugged Ben and Susan as hopeful tears poured down my face.

  "I know the Florida judge who signed the original order. I just made a phone call to Judge Wilson, advising him that it would be in his best interest to carry out my order in his district or there would be hell to pay. Furthermore, I'd like to ask the media in attendance to advise the public that due to the unusual circumstances, federal protection will be granted to the Hunter family. Therefore, if any agency, organization, or person brings physical harm to any one of them out of prejudice, they will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the federal law, facing anywhere from twenty years to life in prison. Court is adjourned."

  I felt like a load was lifted from me knowing that in twenty-four hours I could hold my son again. This nightmare might finally be over.

  The next morning at eight-thirty a.m. the silver Crown Victoria of a law enforcement officer pulled into our driveway.

  "Ben!!! Susan!!! They're here!" I yelled as I ran out the door, down the steps and through the yard as the car doors opened. Ben and his mom were right behind me.

  Seeing Ben's dad holding Lucas was the most precious thing I'd ever laid eyes on, and I grabbed them both as I sobbed in relief.

  "Mamamama. Dadadada" was the sweetest sound to my ears as David handed Lucas to me.

  "We've missed you," David told us as Ben and Susan swallowed him up.

  "Oh honey, I've missed you so much. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" Susan asked. I was anxious for the answers as well.

  "No, sweetie. We're both fine. They kept us in a hotel type room and let me stay with Lucas almost the whole time we were there. He was a trooper, I tell you," David said with a smile.

  "Oh, thank you so much," I told him as I handed Lucas over to Ben.

  "How's my boy?" he asked. "You've gotten so big!"

  I couldn't believe how much Lucas had grown in a little more than a month. He was even talking clearer.

  "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet!" David said. "Put him down and watch him go."

  Ben squatted down to put Lucas on the ground and helped him find his balance. Then Lucas walked the three steps over to me and raised his arms saying, "Mamama."

  "Oh my goodness!" I exclaimed.

  I couldn't believe he was walking. He'd been holding on and toddling before they took him, but now he was really walking. The pain of not seeing his first steps hurt, but it was a small insignificant thing now that he was back in my arms.

  "So, what'd I miss?" David asked.

  "You will never guess in a million years," Ben told him.

  My parents' car pulled up to the house, and then they had their reunion. I knew they'd missed Lucas as much as we had.

  We finally went inside and sat down with David, telling him his secret was out. I was afraid he'd be upset like Ben was at first, but he thought it was great. He said he was glad he wouldn't have to hide it anymore and things could get back to normal.

  The media had been taking pictures and videoing from the street for days. David and Lucas's homecoming was broadcast to the world within minutes. Luckily for us, after a few days, there were new and more exciting things that they all moved on to.

  Ben was unsure how things would go at his veterinary clinic if he went back to work. It turned out that his shifter publicity was great for business. People drove from all over to have him see their pet, and for a chance to meet him in person.

  Lucas was doing great, and we couldn't put him down for days after he came home. Now that his secret was out in the open we could take him more places, but we still had to be careful about the animals he came into contact with. We didn't want him flying off or scuttling away.

  I had decided I was still going to stay home with him at least for a few more years. In the meantime, I had plans to write a book, telling the story of all the good things and the bad, but how I finally got my happy ending. I think I'll call it, The Strange Life of Emily Hunter.

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  *

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  Chapter One

  I pulled the pillow tighter over my head. I was trying ineffectively to block out the sun shining through my bedroom window, and the alarm clock screeching out a horrible pop song. I don't know why I leave it on this shitty radio station, except for it beats waking up to beep-beep-beep.

  I blindly reached over to the nightstand and slapped my hand around until I found and hit the snooze button, giving myself ten more minutes. Work begins for me at the ungodly hour of eight a.m., and since there were bills to pay and video games to buy, the next time my alarm went off, I'd make myself get up.

  I felt the dip in the foot of my mattress an instant before I heard his annoying voice.

  "Get up jackass. I'm hungry, and you're going to be late for work."

  I grabbed the pillow and swatted at the fat-ass orange and white tiger-striped cat to knock him off my bed.

  "Get the fuck out of my room!" I yelled at him. I have got to remember to lock my damn door!

  "I bet a slash across your face will get you moving,” he threatened.

  "I'll feed you in ten minutes if you'll leave me the hell alone! But I swear, if you scratch me with your filthy shit covered claws, I’ll snap you in half!”

  "That reminds me, you need to change my cat litter too, asshole," he said as he finally gave up and sulked away.

  "You're really a man, use the fuck
ing toilet!" I screamed after him.

  "I’ve tried, but my claws slip and I fall in. Then I have to spend the whole damn day licking piss water off myself," he whined.

  Chris had been annoying the shit out of me for years, but he was one of the few friends I had. Five years ago he'd been on the run and turned himself into a cat. He'd been one ever since because the idiot didn't stir the counter-spell before transforming. It wasn't the cat part of him that bothered me, it was his non-stop mouth. Why the stupid spell left him with the ability to talk was just my luck.

  I really should give the guy some slack though. There didn't seem to be an end in sight for his feline days. He'd showed me how to do the spell reversal, and we’d tried it at least a dozen times, but using his kitty blood was always a no-go. Dumb ass.

  When the alarm went off again I finally rolled out of the warm cozy bed and headed to the bathroom. I did remember to lock the bathroom door before I found my way to the toilet. My eyes were still closed as I took a piss then turned on the shower and got undressed.

  As soon as the steaming water in the shower hit me I finally started to wake up. I washed my face then scrubbed my head with shampoo, feeling more and more like myself. Then I really woke up as my washcloth grazed my morning wood.

  Finishing that task only reminded me of my lack of a love life, but it's hard to form lasting relationships with women when you're a disgusting leech.

  I grabbed the plush green towel from the rack beside the shower and ran it over my body before using it to dry my dark blonde hair. Damn, I was in desperate need of a haircut, but I just didn’t give a shit. I could use a shave too, but didn't feel like wasting the time on it.

  I brushed my perfectly straight white teeth, pulled on the clinic's white logo polo, a pair of jeans and my grey New Balances, then I was out the door.

  Shit! My foot was hovering on the first step of the porch when I remembered I didn't feed Chris. I reluctantly turned back around and unlocked the front door, heading to the kitchen. He could just rip open the bag of food with his claws if he got hungry enough, but then I'd be the one who'd have to eventually clean up the mess.

  "Hey, Chris," I yelled. "Do you want bologna or cat food today?"

  A second later he came bouncing all nimbly-pimbly into the kitchen from his bedroom, directly across from mine. "Bologna! And make it two slices," he answered.

  Since he’d been a cat, his food preferences had tended to be that of a regular feline, which was fine with me. Bologna and cat food were cheap, and saved me a shitload of money at the grocery store.

  "Fine. Here," I said as I threw the slices on a plate and sat it down on the floor. I hated when he ate on the counter, getting his little white and orange hairs all over everything.

  "Thanks man. See ya' after work," he told me.

  I turned on the TV in the living room for the poor bastard, then went back out the front door again, this time actually making it to and sitting down in my blue trash filled Mazda 3 Sport.

  Looking at the clock on the dash I had a good five minutes to spare, so I made a detour for a caffeine and sugar rush. Luckily the drive thru lane at Donut World was short, and with four coffees and a dozen doughnuts for myself and my equally grouchy coworkers, I headed to the clinic. It would be my Happy Fucking Friday gift to them.

  On blood drive days I'm supposed to check in at our headquarters downtown by eight a.m. to get everything packed up before we hit the road. I work at the local blood bank, but usually once a week we take our enormous blood mobile out around the community.

  It was a little over eight years ago that I had the brilliant idea to go to school and get my certification in phlebotomy. Even as a vampire, I was one lazy son of a bitch. Having to go out and find my own blood sources was too stressful and tedious, especially when giving in to one lust usually led to the other.

  Why go through all that trouble of finding someone to bite when I could just work at the place that always had a supply? It's like they were paying me to survive. I don't call taking a bag of blood here or there "stealing" per say. I know humans need the blood donated for accidents and surgeries and all that other blah, blah, blah. But what I do is a freaking public service. Besides, I try to only drink the bad shit.

  Since I've been consuming blood for over fifty-eight years I can smell and taste the difference between healthy, sick, and really sick donor blood. Over the years, each and every time I've sniffed or slurped one of the closet deathbed cases, I've been a damn fine Samaritan. I get their phone number from their records, call them right up and tell them that our "laboratory tests" suggest they have an illness, and they should contact their doctor immediately. I've lost count of the number of lives I've possibly saved. Of course our tests will show when someone has HIV and a few other diseases, and the donor might get notified weeks or months after they donate. My way is much quicker.

  I pulled into my parking spot in front of the rundown brick building almost ten minutes late, and noticed all three of my coworkers were already there. They overlooked my lateness however, when I walked in the door and they saw what was in my hands. All three ladies converged on me with a, "Thanks, Sam," to grab up breakfast and devour it at their desks so we could hit the road.

  Doris was the oldest and shrewdest of my three female coworkers, and technically my boss. In her fifties with salt and pepper hair, spare tire around her midsection, and permanent frown, she scared the shit out of me until I realized she wasn't as mean as she looked.

  Then there was Anna. She was in her mid-thirties and a single mom with two small brats. She'd given up on appearances and rocked her ponytail every day without the care or hope of ever finding a man. She’d only been here at the clinic a few years longer than I had, and she pretty much kept to herself, just trying to get through the daily exhaustion that was her life.

  Finally there was Betsy, the anti-Doris. Always happy and pleasant to the point of annoyance, she was just out of college and still acted childish. She showed up to work today, just like every day, as if we were having a damn beauty pageant. Her face was caked with bright colors making her look like a clown, and her bad blonde dye job was sticking out and smelled like it held a can of hairspray. I knew Betsy had a thing for me but she was so not my type, and I didn't just mean her blood.

  I wasted no time putting down my two doughnuts and coffee. Hell yes I still had to eat and drink regular food, even though I happen to be a bloodsucker. Then, since I was the only male in the building, it was time for me to start loading up all the heavy boxes and equipment onto the bus.

  All three of the women were the stereotypical horrible drivers, so I took over the blood mobile’s huge steering wheel, and we made our way through honking rush hour traffic to one of the local colleges. I was all too familiar with the perfectly landscaped and picturesque campus of Madison University.

  As every guy in this town knew, Madison had an overwhelming majority of rich bitches attending, most of them all caught up in their artsy-fartsy majors. Twice a year the sorority girls took a timeout from their partying and hazing to hold blood drives. It gave them the chance to put out signs and get on the local news, bolstering their "community service" image.

  On a good day the school could usually get about fifty of the four thousand students to donate. Forty-five of those donated to get out of class for the entire day, and the other five gave just because they were decent human beings.

  By nine-thirty we already had two takers, or givers as the case may be. The first went to sourpuss Doris, and the second to scatterbrained Anna. Since Betsy was still learning the ropes and mostly doing the administrative paper shuffle, it meant I was up next.

  I was still arranging my supplies in the tiny cramped work area on the back of the bus when I heard Betsy tell our next contestant to come on down. I turned around with my professional smile to greet my first donor, then instantly frowned and let out a sigh. Of all the people that could walk through my blood mobile, it was just my luck that I would get stuck with her
.

  Chapter Two

  I was already awake and getting ready when my alarm went off at eight a.m. Since I had nothing else to do other than study, I'd been going to bed by ten p.m. most nights. God my life sucked. I thought college would be different, that I would be different here.

  After a year of begging daddy to let me leave the house for college I was shocked when he finally agreed. I couldn't wait to get to Greensboro, North Carolina and finally live on my own. I thought my father had given in because of the full scholarship Madison had offered me, but I had been so wrong. I should have been more suspicious of his agreement, especially since for the last eighteen years, he hadn't let me out of the house. Shit, I couldn’t even hang out on weekends with the few friends I had from my all-girls Catholic school.

  After freshman orientation I knew exactly why he was so gung-ho for me to come here. It might as well have been a nunnery. And I could've made do with the fifteen percent male population, if fourteen percent of them weren't gay. I could count on one hand how many possibly straight guys I'd come across in the three weeks since school started. To top it off, I was a nursing major, so there was no way I’d meet a decent straight guy there. Hell, at this point I'd take an indecent one.

  But just because daddy didn't let me out of the house or date didn't mean I was completely inexperienced with guys. If he knew the things that went on every summer in the dorm rooms at church camp he'd burn that place to the ground. But even Stephen, the guy I met this past summer and fooled around with every night, turned out to be a prude. Despite our escalating groping in his room he always stopped things when they started heating up because he was "saving himself for marriage." I was really starting to think there was something wrong with me.