Hunter’s Revenge: Willow Harbor - book 3

by Juliana Haygert

  * * *

  TESSA

  * * *

  Willow Harbor was said to be a beautiful small beach town on the South Carolina coast. A safe haven of sorts. Although I had heard plenty about it from my father the few times he had ever visited me, I hadn’t been here in many, many years. Since I was a baby, actually. The town was new to me.

  I followed Landon’s sleek Mustang with my little Mazda down the main road leading into town. I slowed down as we passed through a beautiful entrance portico with an open gate—a big, heavy, wrought iron, beautiful gate.

  Welcome to Willow Harbor, it read.

  Instead of heading deeper into town, Landon turned right, onto a narrow, winding road flanked by tall trees. About half a mile later, Landon stopped his car in front of another pair of big wrought gates—but these were closed. Almost instantly the gates opened, letting us in. I followed him in my car another half mile down the same tree-covered winding road, until it opened into a wide curved driveway with a big fountain in the center and a huge gray stone manor just beyond. It looked straight out of a Hollywood movie with its three imposing stories, dark green roof, octagonal turrets, small windows, and stone steps.

  I followed Landon past the curved road and into a hidden parking lot. Surprisingly, no other cars were here. Then, I saw the ramp at the end of the lot, and I could bet there was a big garage underneath the manor.

  Landon parked in a center spot, and I parked beside him.

  I exited my car, staring at the manor beside us. I had been here before, but I had never seen it as an adult.

  “You don’t remember this place, do you?” Landon said, approaching me.

  I shook my head. “I was told I was born here, though, before—” I cut my words off. I was sure he knew the story. I didn’t need to repeat it. Even thinking about it, about how my mother and I were practically pushed out the door right after my birth, hurt too much.

  Landon grabbed my duffel bag from inside my car. “Come on.” He jerked his chin toward the manor. “The lawyer is probably waiting.”

  He led me down a side path, toward the front of the manor. We climbed up the elegant stone steps and halted in front of the double brown doors. Landon punched in a few numbers in the automatic key lock, a soft click resonated, and then he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

  The place was even more imposing, beautiful, rustic, and dark on the inside.

  Dark hardwood floors and wood paneling covered the walls. Two wide staircases sprouted from above the door and wound down the sides of the foyer. A colored mosaic of glass windows provided light from above the stairs. A chandelier with brushed golden details and fake candles hung from the slanted white ceiling, filling the space above the foyer. A fireplace was on the other side of the entrance. Two archways opened on either side of the fireplace, leading to what looked like a fancy living room. The Sanctum coat of arms—a big shield made of dark wood, with a closed fist drawn in the center, and the small number seven tattooed on the wrist—hung above the fireplace.

  “Miss Ford.” A short man with graying hair appeared at the top of the winding stairs. He rushed down and met us on the first floor. “I’m Douglas Ward. Welcome to our house.”

  Douglas Ward. My father had mentioned him before. He had been Isaac’s best friend and closest hunting partner.

  “Please, call me Tessa,” I said, still trying to wrap my mind around everything.

  “Has the lawyer arrived?” Landon asked Douglas.

  Douglas’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He just called. He had an urgent appointment and won’t be able to make it today. Or the rest of the week. He’ll call soon to let us know when he’ll be able to come.”

  “Shit,” Landon muttered.

  “I can come back tomorrow,” I said.

  “It’s such a long way,” Douglas said. “Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

  My brows furrowed. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I can go to a hotel.”

  “You should stay here,” Landon said, his tone firm. Resolute. He turned to the stairs. “Let’s get you settled then.”

  I followed him up the stairs to the second floor. At the landing, he turned to me with a frown.

  “What?” I asked, confused.

  “Would you like to stay in your father’s bedroom, or a guest bedroom?”

  My throat seized. I couldn’t imagine lying down to sleep in the same bed my father had slept for years. I slowly shook my head. “A guest bedroom, please. But, I would like to see his room.”

  Nodding, Landon turned right into the wide hallway. He pointed to the first door on the left as he walked past it. “This will be your bedroom.” He kept going to the end of the corridor, and then halted between two wooden doors before a thin, long window. He glanced to the door on the left. “This one is my room.” Then he opened the door on the right. “And this one is Isaac’s room.”

  I stared at the dark room, not moving an inch. “This is so weird,” I whispered, so low I wasn’t sure Landon had heard me.

  He cleared his throat. “Since the lawyer isn’t coming today, there’s nothing to do until the funeral tomorrow.” I flinched at the word funeral. My mind was still in limbo, and I hadn’t processed the idea of a funeral, much less that I would be attending one. “Take your time. I’ll put your bag in your bedroom. If you need anything, I’ll be in the office downstairs.”

  Then he marched away. I watched as he paused at the guest bedroom, went in, and came back out ten seconds later, sans bag. Without looking back, he closed the door and went down the stairs.

  I stared at the open door and the darkness behind it.

  Gulping, I stepped forward and reached for the light switch. Yellowish light inundated the large room. I was surprised by what I found, and not because of the decorations. The dark furniture, the hardwood floors, and the thick brown curtains gave the room the same heaviness as the rest of the manor. I was surprised it was more than a bedroom. The door opened to a small sitting room with dark blue velvet couches. To the left, a small square dining table for four took over the space. To the right, stood a king-sized wooden bed, two nightstands, tall dressers, and two armchairs.

  I meandered into the room and tried to spot any personal items, a thingamabob or a knickknack that would tell me more about my father. However, the suite was as pristine and plain as a hotel room. No portraits, no nondescript decoration items, no notebook, not even a tablet or computer.

  I sat down on the couch, suddenly feeling as heavy as the suite and the manor.

  And just like that, the tears assaulted me. I started crying for a man I barely knew.

  Three

  TESSA

  * * *

  The funeral had been a whirlwind. We had returned an hour or two ago, and I couldn’t recall any major details. Maybe Landon was right and I was still in shock. Or maybe I didn’t want to commit such a terrible day to memory.

  Last night, I was able to recover from my shock long enough to call my mother and tell her what happened. She didn’t respond for a long time. I thought she had fainted, or the call had disconnected. Clearly crying, she said she didn’t want to come for the funeral, which was a little shock too. I understood he hurt her—me too—but she should have had been here for me. At least, I had wanted her to come for me.

  I didn’t force it. As usual, she was living her life with her family, and I was left to fend for myself.

  After talking to her, but before the shock overtook me again, I sent an email to my professors, letting them know what happened. Thankfully, they were nice about it and told me not to worry about my absences right now. They promised to send me emails with class notes and homework so I wouldn’t be too far behind when I came back. Which I hoped was soon.

  For now, I mingled around the house, staying in the corners of the living room, just watching as the manor residents welcomed the townspeople and thanked them for their condolences. I wondered if the townspeople knew what they were, what they did.

&nbs
p; Like my father and Landon, everyone who lived in this manor worked together—as demon hunters.

  My mother had never hidden it from me. In fact, when it was only the two of us, she would tell me stories about demons that terrorized people and the handsome men who came to their rescue. The stories were filled with magic and romance. I knew she embellished them a little—okay, a lot—but it was one thing to know it was true. It was another thing to be here, among said hunters, gazing upon their fortress and hearing whispers of cases here and there.

  Aidan appeared by my side, a glass of wine in his hand. “I thought you would like something to drink.”

  “Hm.” I glanced at the glass. “You know I’m twenty, right?”

  He shrugged. “Nobody will care.” He pulled the glass back. “Unless you don’t drink.”

  I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I could use a bit of alcohol in my veins right now. I took the glass from him. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He stood beside me, watching the people walking around the living room. “Are you doing okay? I mean, not really okay, but—”

  “I’m okay,” I said with a small smile. An older couple walked by us, greeting us with such sadness in their eyes. “Does everyone in town know what you guys are, what you do?”

  “Not everyone, but most,” Aidan said. “Willow Harbor is a safe place for lots of supernatural beings.”

  I glanced at him. “I thought you guys hunted supernatural beings.”

  “The bad ones. Like humans, supernaturals are also good or bad. Or somewhere in between.”

  “So you’re like the police force of the supernatural world?”

  He smiled, probably thinking my lack of knowledge was amusing. “Something like that.”

  On the other side of the room, Landon shook hands with a man, nodded once, then walked through an archway. I stared at his back until it disappeared into the dark hallway.

  “Excuse me,” I said to Aidan as I let my feet take me wherever it wanted to go.

  I weaved through the crowd until a short woman with a huge black hat and too much makeup stepped in my way.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, darlin’,” the woman said in a fragile voice. Her gaze on me was unfocused.

  Douglas appeared beside me. “Tessa, this is Mrs. Ackerman.”

  “Thank you,” I said, wishing I knew what else I could say at a time like this.

  Douglas leaned closer and whispered in my ear, “She’s nearly blind and nosy.”

  I turned to him. “Is she a supernatural?”

  He nodded. “A shifter.”

  “Your daddy was such a great man,” the woman said with a wide smile. “Bless his heart, always ready to help our community.”

  I forced a smile. “I’m glad.” I glanced to the dark hallway just within reach and sighed. “I … if you’ll excuse me.”

  She blinked at me, as if trying to see me better. “Of course, darlin’.” Douglas put a hand on her upper back and steered her toward some other people standing in the room.

  Sighing in relief, I continued my trek.

  Not one second later, I heard someone saying, “I didn’t know Isaac had a daughter.”

  Apparently, neither did he.

  That was harsh. He knew he had a daughter. He even came to see her once a year, but I never understood why. With the way he pushed my mother and me away and stayed away from us, I didn’t even know why he bothered.

  This wasn’t the time to be mad at him about that. This was the time for me to make peace with the past and let him go.

  Those thoughts aside, my feet took me across the living room, through the archway, into the dark hallway. At the end, a door was open and light streamed into the corridor.

  I inched closer and spied inside.

  * * *

  LANDON

  * * *

  I was done with this shitty day. Actually, I was done with this entire week. And it was only Wednesday.

  Letting out a long breath, I poured scotch into a glass. This was my second one. Or third? I had lost count.

  Despite knowing the perils of this job, of living them every day, I never thought I would go through this again. I never thought I would lose a person who meant more to me than anyone else. It was as if I had gone swimming and suddenly found myself drowning. The more I flapped my arms and pushed with my legs, the more I sank. I could do nothing.

  The sound of chatter reached the office, and I shook my head once. There had been twenty-four people at the funeral. Tessa, twenty-two hunters, and me.

  We came straight from the cemetery to the manor, and then it was as if the place blew up with neighbors and friends who probably spoke with Isaac only once, but wanted to come pay their respects. If I could, I would send everyone away, including Tessa.

  I downed the scotch in a gulp and dropped the glass on the bar along the wall with a loud clank. I sat in Isaac’s chair and leaned over the table, my eyes on his journal. All hunters had journals where we noted the details of each hunt, the clues, the discoveries, the conclusions, the way to kill demons and witches and shifters, anything that could help in the future.

  Isaac’s journal was like the Bible to every hunter in this manor, and it was now mine.

  I heard the soft click of her heels on the hardwood floors before she spied around the office’s door. I kept my gaze on the journal as she stepped to the door and paused.

  Almost two minutes passed while I pretended to read the journal, but there was something about her I couldn’t fight. Like a magnet, my gaze drew to her.

  I had seen her several times this morning and afternoon, but for some reason, seeing her standing there, just the two of us, made my gut twist.

  She was so beautiful it hurt. That fitted black dress, molding to her curves, was perfection on her—even if the cleavage was modest, and it went down to just above her knees.

  Her blue eyes scanned the office, and she took a careful step inside. “So this is where the magic happens?”

  I tried envisioning the office through her eyes. The place was normal enough with a big wooden desk, two smaller chairs on one side, a high-back chair on the other, and a wall covered by wooden shelves and books—books about demons and ghosts and witches and exorcism and magic. Behind the desk was a big painting of an angel fighting a demon. It was an impressive painting, but more impressive was what was hidden behind it. A small closet filled with all kinds of weapons and hunting gear. One of the many hidden armories in the manor.

  “I wouldn’t call it magic.”

  She turned those big eyes to me. “I thought you guys had some kind of ritual to join the group.”

  Shit. She knew more than I thought she did.

  “We do.”

  Hunting had always been a lonely profession—and still was. However, during an apocalyptic event where several of Hell’s gates had been opened a hundred years ago, hunters had joined forces to defeat the demons and close those gates. Two of those hunters were brothers, and one of them had been Ezra, Isaac’s great-grandfather. The brothers invited the other hunters who survived the apocalypse to join forces permanently. Most refused, preferring to hunt alone, but enough hunters agreed—seven in total—and the Sanctum of the Seven was founded. Two of the first members were from Douglas and Aidan’s bloodline.

  Through the years our group grew, but we never let it get out of hand. We liked it small and trustworthy. It was easy to get blindsided in this line of work.

  “The little magic in the ritual is just to bind us as friends,” I continued. “As brothers.”

  “Brothers. I thought there were women in the group.”

  My jaw clenched. “Only three.”

  “I see.”

  She walked behind the desk. Uncomfortable with her proximity, I stood and rounded the desk. Then Tessa gasped. There, turned toward Isaac’s chair, was a portrait with two pictures—one of Isaac and Regina and baby Tessa, and another of Tessa when she was a teenager.

  Her eyes misted and she averted h
er gaze, hiding her pretty face from me.

  “I’m sure his lawyer is going to contact you later this week, but I want you to know he left everything he has to you. Some cash in the bank, his truck, and a small cabin in the mountains. Though his car and his weapons were left to me.”

  She glanced at me, one of her eyebrows raised. “He left his precious Mustang to you.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I felt like I should answer anyway. “He did. I always loved that car, and even though I wasn’t expecting anything from him other than his guidance, he left it for me.”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it anyway, but to be honest, I always thought he would leave everything to you.”

  “Tessa,” I started, but closed my mouth again. How did I tell her that she meant more to him than anything else in the world? That he kept his distance to keep her safe? I just needed to open my mouth and say it, but the words stuck in my throat.

  “Are you going to avenge him?”

  The question took me by surprise. Stunned, I stared at her for a moment before answering. “Yes, I plan on it.”

  “I want to help.” This time, I stared at her longer. She crossed her arms and glared at me. “Did you hear me? I want to help.”

  “I heard you. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” Isaac fought so hard to keep her away from all this. I wouldn’t be the one to drag her down this path. Besides, she was the only thing left of him. If it depended on me, she would never get involved in any of this.

  “I don’t care what you think. I’m telling you I’m coming with you.”

  I gritted my teeth. “The hell you are. This is dangerous business. You should stay out of it.”

  Her blue eyes turned into ice. “That’s not your choice to make.”

  Damn, my patience was running thin. “I’m not taking you, Tessa, and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

  She glared at me. “Fine,” she snapped.