Huntsmen (The Better to Kiss You With Book 2)

by Michelle Osgood

  “I know a place. They won’t think to look for us there.” Kiara hoped so, anyway.

  “Who were they after?” Jamie held open the door of the cab that had pulled up to the curb, a van, and helped Deanna in. “How did they know we’d be there?”

  “Quiet,” Kiara ordered as she gestured for Ryn to get in. “We’ll talk about it later.” After scrambling in behind Ryn, Kiara slammed the door shut and gave the address to the driver.

  As they pulled away, Kiara splayed her hands on her thighs and forced herself to relax them. She had been dangerously close to losing control. As it was, she had shown too much strength—she shouldn’t have thrown the Huntsman against the wall, not as hard as she had. Despite Ryn and Jamie’s assurances, Kiara wasn’t convinced that he’d be “okay.” She’d heard his heart still beating rapidly as they left the alley, but beyond that she had no idea how badly he was hurt.

  With a short shake of her head, Kiara forced herself to stop thinking about it. She reached for her purse and pulled out her phone. Her brother answered on the first ring despite the late hour. As a paramedic, he was used to being on call.

  “Cole here.”

  “It’s me.” Kiara dropped her head; the fingers of her free hand pressed into her temple. “Get up. Leave the apartment. I need you to meet us at Nathan’s.”

  Cole didn’t argue. “I’ll be out in five.”

  “Wait.” Jamie leaned forward from the backseat. “Arthur.”

  “It’s out of the way,” Kiara began.

  “I’ve got a spare key.” Her brother’s voice came over the line. “Tell Dee not to worry. I’ll get her dog.”

  Kiara gritted her teeth and hoped that his werewolf hearing wouldn’t get Cole into something he couldn’t get out of. “Be fast,” she warned.

  “Never anything but,” Cole promised, as unflappable as ever, and hung up.

  “Why are we going to Nathan’s?”

  Not for the first time, Kiara wished that Deanna had a better brain-to-mouth filter.

  “Better question. Who’s Nathan?” Ryn was tense in her seat beside Kiara. Her fingers drummed in an uncharacteristic show of anxiety on the side of her duffel bag. Kiara almost reached over and stilled them with her own.

  “He’s a friend,” Kiara answered. “But he’s human. I don’t think they’ll have made the connection.”

  “You don’t think?” Deanna half rose from her seat. “Those guys—”

  “Deanna!” Kiara’s voice was sharp and commanding. “I’m the—” She sucked in a quick breath, reminding herself that they weren’t alone in the cab. The driver was glancing in the rearview mirror with unabashed interest. “I’m the one in charge. I’m not going to let anyone get hurt. So sit still, shut up, and let me think.”

  Sullen silence greeted her, and Kiara refused to feel guilty. They’d be at Nathan’s in a matter of minutes, and once they were safely inside, Deanna could ask whatever questions she could think of. Kiara wouldn’t guarantee she’d answer them, but she wouldn’t stop Deanna from asking.

  Kiara tried to focus on the passing buildings as they drove through downtown, but the lights blurred until all she could see out the window was her own reflection and the shape of Ryn’s profile at her side. For the first time since she’d seen Ryn onstage, Kiara let herself take in the sight of her: her stubbornly square jaw, the soft slope of her nose. She’d whipped her hair into a ponytail before they’d left the club, but a few fine tendrils had escaped to drift around her face. Though Kiara knew the glued-on beard was still in place, she couldn’t see the detail of it in the window and imagined pressing her lips to the firm spot where Ryn’s jaw met her throat.

  She snapped her gaze away from the window as the cab slowed to a stop beside Nathan’s building. She pulled out a handful of bills and passed them to the driver before she yanked open the door and stepped out. The rain was still coming down, and, as the other three followed her, Kiara was reminded that they were all soaking.

  Deanna hurried past Kiara to the door with Jamie close behind. Kiara waited at the curb until the cab pulled away, then scanned the street behind them. She was fairly certain they hadn’t been followed, but she wouldn’t take any chances.

  “So.” Ryn had dropped her bag beside Jamie under the overhang and came into the rain to stand beside Kiara. “It’s been a while.”

  Kiara wrapped her arms around herself and told herself the chill was from the weather and not from Ryn’s nonchalance. “Yeah,” was all she said.

  “You kept the bangs.”

  Kiara jerked her chin in acknowledgment.

  On the speaker behind them, Nathan finally answered Deanna’s urgent buzzing. “Whozzit?” his sleep-muddled voice asked.

  “It’s Dee. Can we come in?”

  The click of the door unlocking sounded louder than it should have. Kiara gave one last sweep of the road before she turned to follow Deanna and Jamie in.

  Chapter Five |

  The elevator ride to Nathan’s third floor apartment was silent. Dee curled into Jamie’s side; her hands were still clenched into fists. It occurred to Kiara that, unlike the three werewolves Deanna shared the elevator with, Deanna was probably drunk. If Kiara thought that the night had been an impossible whirlwind of events, she couldn’t imagine how Deanna was taking it.

  Before Kiara could decide if she needed to apologize, the elevator shuddered to a stop, and the doors opened with a ding. She stepped to the side to allow Deanna and Jamie to exit first, then followed. Ryn trailed behind her.

  A bleary-eyed Nathan met them in his doorway and ushered them through. His dark hair was a mess, and a loose pair of pajama pants hung from his narrow hips. He didn’t say a word as he closed and locked the door behind them.

  Deanna had toed off her flats and was already making her way into the industrial-chic apartment. Jamie hastily unlaced her sneakers and moved into the kitchen.

  Nathan eyed Kiara before his gaze shifted to Ryn and took on a speculative quality. “Hi,” he said. “You’re Terence Stallion.”

  Ryn lifted a hand to her jaw, and rubbed her facial hair. “Taryn, Ryn, now.”

  “Nathan. He, him,” he offered.

  “She or they,” Ryn answered in kind, unlacing her polished oxfords.

  Nathan nodded. “Make yourself at home,” he said before he switched his focus to Kiara. “Care to tell me what the hell is going on?”

  Kiara bent to unlace her own boots. “Cole is on his way. With Arthur.”

  “Right, of course. That’s very informative. But why, pray tell, is Cole on his way with Arthur?” There was a knife-sharp edge to Nathan’s voice as Kiara pried off her left boot and then her right.

  “Don’t be cute. You weren’t my first choice, trust me,” Kiara said, straightening. He wasn’t her last either, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “And yet here you are.” Nathan threw up his hands in a fashion that was far too dramatic for Kiara’s taste and strode across the exposed concrete floor. “Jamie, would you mind shedding some light on this development, since your cousin is so vehemently opposed to doing so?”

  Jamie sent Kiara a quick, apologetic glance and answered. “There’s this group. They’re not—I mean, I didn’t think they were actually real. Or at least not anymore.”

  “Neither did I,” Kiara responded gruffly.

  “Could you all please stop being so cryptic?” Deanna had her arms folded over her chest. “I’m cold, wet, drunk, and scared and I don’t know why. Could someone please just tell me what’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry.” Ignoring Nathan’s narrowed eyes, Kiara pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and joined them in the living room. Ryn had settled into a chair and was surveying the apartment with studied indifference. Kiara did her best to ignore her and focused her attention on the two humans. “We didn’t have time to explain earlier.” She directed
her response to Deanna. “The Huntsmen are boogeymen. They’re what you scare young werewolves with. You know, the baddies who’ll come after them if they aren’t careful. That kind of thing. They’re a watchdog group of humans. Supposedly they track us down—keep you safe.”

  “I didn’t feel safe tonight.” Deanna took Jamie’s hand in hers. “They attacked us.”

  “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have been caught up in that.” Jamie kissed Deanna’s temple before she looked up at Kiara. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “They had to come from somewhere. Why us? Why that club?” Jamie was still directing her questions at Kiara, but Kiara didn’t think she expected an answer.

  “Could be them.” Nathan swung his chin pointedly at Ryn. “Since we’re using the ‘W-word’ I’m assuming they’re one of yours. And, as far as I know, we haven’t had problems with any kind of ‘Huntsmen’ until now. Until them.”

  “It’s not Ryn.” Kiara hadn’t realized she was going to speak until the words flew from her mouth. She pressed her lips closed to prevent any more from exiting unbidden.

  Ryn’s dark eyes slid from Kiara back to Nathan, and she arched an eyebrow in his direction. “I haven’t had any problems till now. Till you.”

  Nathan’s own eyebrows leapt up over his glasses, but before he could respond Deanna stood up.

  “I want a shower,” she announced. “And Cole isn’t here yet. I’m calling a time-out on this whole—” She waved a vague hand at the center of the room. “—whatever. Let me shower and sober up, and then we can continue.”

  “Do you want a hand?” Jamie began to rise from the couch, but Deanna shooed her back.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll get you a towel and some clothes.” Nathan was already moving to the cupboards that lined one wall. “You,” he directed to Jamie, “can get me a drink. Because I am not drunk enough for whatever werewolf nonsense this is. And especially for it to be happening at—” He squinted at the clock on the microwave. “—one in the morning.”

  With a sharp nod, Jamie went into the kitchen and opened cupboards. Kiara twisted the cap off her bottle and took a long drink, letting the cool liquid soothe her tight throat.

  Nathan’s apartment was in an old industrial building converted to lofts. The floor and walls were thick cement, making it essentially a well-furnished box. The small front entry had a bathroom to the left and a short hallway into the kitchen, which opened into a living room that ended in a large bank of windows against the far wall. A staircase ran up the apartment’s right wall to Nathan’s bedroom, a small second floor which extended only over the kitchen, giving the relatively small apartment tall ceilings and a wide-open feel.

  On the third floor of the building, with the windows looking out into the street, the apartment’s front door was the only point of entry. If need be, the apartment was easily defended.

  In the bathroom the taps came on with a shuddering jerk, and the spray of water against porcelain announced Deanna had started her shower. Nathan returned to the kitchen and with a nod of thanks to Jamie he took the glass she handed him. Without a second thought, he slammed back the whiskey and slid the glass across the wooden counter for another.

  “Something tells me the three of you could use one,” he said.

  “We’re good—”

  “Sure.” Ignoring Kiara, Ryn rose from her chair and slid onto a barstool. Jamie avoided eye contact with Kiara as she poured Ryn a glass and passed it across before surreptitiously pouring one for herself.

  Kiara closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath through her nose. Be calm, be calm, she reminded herself. Jamie had—they’d both—been through something entirely unexpected this evening. If Jamie wanted a drink, Kiara supposed she was entitled to it, even if Kiara thought staying clearheaded was the best move.

  Nathan’s phone gave a jolting buzz from the kitchen island. Nathan’s face went deathly pale at the sudden noise, but to his credit he was already answering at the second ring.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s Cole. And Arthur.”

  “Right.” Nathan tapped at the screen to buzz them in, then dropped his phone on the counter with a clatter.

  They waited in silence: Jamie leaning against the sink, Nathan with his elbows on the island and spinning his tumbler between his fingers, Ryn seemingly at ease with her tie askew and her own tumbler dangled carelessly above the concrete floor. Where she’d settled on the stairs, Kiara picked at the new run in her stockings and swallowed a curse when the split widened.

  At the ding of the elevator reaching Nathan’s floor, Jamie jerked up and sped inhuman-quick to the door. Nathan shook his head and muttered, “Fucking werewolves,” before he swallowed the rest of his whiskey.

  “Well,” Cole rubbed a hand over his beard as he joined them in the kitchen. “You all look a mess.” Despite having been roused from sleep, Cole was as put-together and unruffled as always in gray jeans and a soft, forest-green sweater that complemented his dark hair and his honey-gold eyes, which matched Kiara’s.

  Kiara noticed for the first time the tear in Jamie’s tank top, the blood flaking against Ryn’s throat, and Nathan’s threadbare pajamas. She couldn’t see herself, but was sure sweat had blurred her carefully applied eyeliner and mascara into dark circles, and the itchy sensation at her hairline was possibly drying blood. Deanna might have had the right idea.

  Cole had clearly clued into the fact that they were waiting for Deanna; he’d pulled out a barstool beside Nathan and cracked the seal on the bottle of water Jamie had passed him.

  The water in the bathroom shut off, and Arthur, who had gone to beg attention from Nathan, wagged his tail.

  Deanna emerged in a billow of spice-scented steam, toweled her hair, then swooped it up into a bun. With her makeup gone, her round face looked younger, and Kiara couldn’t help watching Jamie’s eyes gentle as Deanna tucked herself against Jamie’s side. Arthur hurried over to complete the family.

  “So.” Cole set down his bottle. “Now that we’re all here—what’s going on?” His glance slid to Ryn, but offered nothing more than polite interest in her presence.

  Kiara joined the group; she stepped into the only space around the island left open, between Nathan and Ryn. She could feel the prick of Nathan’s irritation against her bare arms, but on her right Ryn was a blank canvas save for the unwavering beat of her heart. She seemed unaffected, as always.

  Kiara laid her palms against the wood of the island and told Cole what had happened at the club. She was blunt about the facts—including the force with which she’d thrown the Huntsman against the wall and her uncertainty as to how badly he’d been injured. From the other side of the island, Deanna’s fingers worried at the hem of her T-shirt, and she flinched at Kiara’s admission.

  Kiara refused to feel guilty about what Deanna would see as a lie. They’d needed to leave, and Kiara had gotten them to safety, relative though it was. Kiara wouldn’t apologize for whatever it took to keep her pack from harm.

  “What I don’t get,” Jamie said with a frown, “is why we are just finding out the Huntsmen are real. Unless—” She hesitated, doubt, but no accusation, in her voice. “—unless Uncle Michael told you.” She directed the not-quite-question to Kiara. If anyone in the room were to have knowledge of the Huntsmen, it would be Kiara, as her father’s heir.

  Kiara shook her head. “This is the first confirmation I’ve had.”

  Cole nodded. “Whenever Dad spoke about them, it was always past tense. Like they’d been real at one point, but not any longer.”

  “So.” Nathan folded his arms across his chest. “Have they been around this entire time, or have they come back?”

  His question hung unanswered.

  “It doesn’t really matter.” Ryn waggled her fingers at Jamie, who passed her the bottle of whiskey, and pou
red herself another glass. “The point is, they’re here now.”

  “What I think—”

  “If we—”

  “Listen, there’s no real—”

  Arthur barked, joining in.

  Heedless of her already ruined makeup, Kiara pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Now that the immediate danger had passed, the number of questions was growing by the second. If their pack didn’t know about the Huntsmen, then who did? Did GNAAW know about them? Was that all of them—the three they’d seen—or were there factions all over? How many were there? Would the Huntsmen keep coming after them? Too much to decide with too little information, and the six of them arguing in circles wouldn’t help figure anything out.

  “Everyone quiet!” Nathan shouted. “Especially you.” He looked pointedly at Arthur. “I’m not allowed pets, so keep it down.” Arthur obediently sat, and the rest of them stopped speaking.

  “The way I see it.” Kiara looked at each person in turn, ending with Ryn. “We stay here tonight. No question. I don’t think they tracked us and I can’t see them connecting us to Nathan—”

  “Yet,” Nathan muttered.

  “—so we stay here. And I’ll call my dad. And he’ll know what to do.”

  “That’s good,” Cole agreed. “And I think it might be best if none of us plan on going to work tomorrow.”

  “Hey, no one’s looking for me.” Ready to argue, Nathan squared his shoulders. “I’m not missing work just because you bozos—”

  “You can go to work.” Kiara rolled her eyes.

  “I can work wherever,” Deanna reminded them. “I just need my laptop.”

  “Then it’s settled.”

  “It’s not settled. You can’t just decide for all of us.” Ryn unfurled herself from her stool. “I’ve got clients tomorrow. I can’t reschedule.”

  “You can. You will,” Kiara warned. “No one’s going to die if they have to wait a day or two for a haircut.”