The Hallowed Hunt

by Yasmine Galenorn

  It had been a major revelation, not only to me but to Herne, when he found out he had a daughter from an old dalliance. And it had been a rocky spot in our relationship, but we had come through it and I felt we were stronger because of it.

  “I know. I understand why it took you awhile. You were processing the information. Herne, you’ve never lied to me, as far as I know, and that’s of primary importance to me. I can handle a lot of problems, but lying? I won’t stand for it. I know myself. I can’t ever trust anybody unconditionally. It’s just not in my nature. But…I trust you more than anybody except Angel, and it takes a lot of work to earn that spot in my heart.” I kissed his neck. “What brought up this conversation?”

  He hugged me close, rocking me gently from side to side.

  “I love you so much. I never want to hurt you. I never want to do anything to compromise us. The past six months has been amazing. When Reilly lied to me, I shut down. I pushed aside the idea of another relationship, at least for a long, long time. And then you showed up. It was like a light went on and my heart woke up. If I ever do or say anything that frightens you, scares you, makes you not trust me, tell me. I don’t want to mess this up.”

  He kissed me then, long and deep, and picked me up in his arms, carrying me to the bed. I wrapped my arms around his neck and drew him toward me, my breath coming in hard pants as he entered me, driving into me first softly, then fast and hard, riding me like the King Stag rides his mate. He rolled over, then, pulling me down on top of him, and I rocked against him, gasping as he slid his hand down between my legs.

  We made love for over an hour until I rolled to the side, as limp as a washrag. Herne leaned over me, smiling, his gaze fastened on mine.

  “Had enough for one night, my love?” He stroked my cheek, tracing his finger down to my lips where I kissed it gently.

  “Yeah. Are you good? I feel guilty that I can’t go all night. You’re a god. Do you ever get hungry for someone who has more stamina than I have?” I hadn’t voiced the insecurity before, but it was there, and had been since the beginning.

  Herne snickered. “Oh, love, if I wanted someone to bang for as long as I could keep it up, I would have just hired a concubine. There are plenty of minor goddesses out there looking to make it big as the consort of a major deity. And since my father is a major deity, I’ve had my fair share of offers.”

  “Have you ever taken any of them up on it?” I asked.

  “Once or twice,” he said, leaning down to kiss my nose. “But the thrill wears off when you realize you’re being used for your pedigree as opposed to who you are. I left off playing those games a long time ago. As far you’re concerned? I’d rather have an hour with you in bed, than all night with a succubus.”

  And by the tone of his voice, I believed him.

  “Come on, let’s go run through the woods to clear our heads, then we’ll eat a late dinner and get some sleep.” He pulled me up. “We can take a shower before bed. I need to stretch my legs.”

  We dressed and headed out to the sliding glass doors that led onto the patio overlooking the park. Herne locked the door and handed me his keys, which I slipped into my jacket pocket and zipped it shut. Then, as I stood back, the air filled with a fine mist around him and everything near him began to blur. I squinted, looking away from the brilliant flare of light. A moment later, a magnificent silver stag stepped out of the fading glow. Herne, in his massive King Stag form, nudged me with his muzzle, his breath hot on my face.

  I laughed. “You goon. Kneel so I can climb on your back.”

  As I swung over his back, I let out a groan. Herne glanced back at me, and I leaned forward, patting his head.

  “You wear a girl out, dude. My thighs are sore.” I laughed as I adjusted myself on his back. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  He began to lope softly into the woods. There wasn’t a trail from his lot into the park, but he had carved one out with his paws over the months. Within moments, we were racing through the park as he loped along, his great hooves thudding against the ground.

  Herne went off track, up a ravine, as I leaned forward, wrapping my arms along the sides of his neck, hanging on for dear life.

  Riding him was different than riding a horse. Horses had thinner bodies, generally, and usually riding a horse involved a saddle. But this was more primal, and I had to admit, the constant shifting of him between my legs usually only served to stoke my hunger. But tonight, I was still sore enough that sex was the farthest thing from my mind.

  We rode until we were deep into the woods. Granted, we were in a park, but Herne could traverse the terrain to where most people never went. The leaves were thick on the ground from the scattered maple trees that emblazoned their way through the tall fir. The air was pungent, smelling of mold and mildew and mushrooms, of dark earth churned over to expose the roots of plants gone fallow for the winter.

  I could see my breath in front of me as the darkness closed in around us. And then, I felt it. A deep longing to be on my feet, creeping through the forest, bow in hand, hunting down my prey. The bloodlust rose within me, and I shuddered as the images flooded into my mind.

  Time to hunt, to kill, to eat the bloody heart of my quarry, to merge and become one with the forest. Time to stalk my prey, to follow silently as it wound through the woodland unaware.

  As the hunger swelled up, I felt oddly homesick, though I didn’t know where or what I was missing. Tears started to trickle down my cheeks as the feeling flared from a memory that I couldn’t pinpoint. I let them fall, not understanding where the emotions were coming from, but accepting them.

  We journeyed through the park until close to midnight, and then home. By the time we were in the shower, Herne was quiet and so was I, each of us lost in our thoughts. I curled up in his bed, with him spooning me from behind, but for a long time sleep eluded me as I sought through my memories, trying to figure out what had been calling me, and why it had inexplicably filled me with sorrow.

  Chapter Six

  “You ready?” Viktor held up his keys. We were headed to interview the second victim’s mother. Samantha Trifor was waiting for us at her job.

  I nodded. “Yeah, let’s head out. At least we’ve got some questions to lead with,” I said as we headed toward his truck. “I just hate sitting there, putting the parents through this.”

  “The more we learn, the more we can spare more parents the same pain. And we might be able to find Eleanor. If she’s with the same unsub, then there’s a good chance she’s got at least a few more days to live.” He fit the key into the ignition and eased out of the parking garage.

  “Why do you think the woman takes them?” I asked, staring out the window.

  I was still feeling the effects of the ride into the park. The longing had stayed with me, the feeling of being displaced. I hadn’t told Herne, mostly because I didn’t want him to worry, but all I could think of was that my Autumn’s Bane side was bleeding through.

  “I don’t know,” Viktor said. “Why does anybody do anything? It fills a need they have, however twisted that desire is. For some reason, this woman—if it’s the same woman we saw nab Eleanor on the film—can only fill that vacuum inside by stealing children.”

  “And then she kills them,” I added softly. “Don’t forget the other side of the equation.”

  “I never do,” Victor said, turning on to the main drag. Traffic was light. It was nine-thirty and the business sector was in full swing with everybody at work.

  We reached the school where Samantha Trifor taught third grade. She was a single mother, and her daughter had been second to vanish. Samantha was waiting for us in a conference room, looking nervous.

  “Have you found her killer yet? Have you found the person who killed my little girl?” The hope in her eyes was palpable.

  “I’m sorry, no, not yet. We need to ask you a few questions, because a fourth girl has been abducted and we’re in a race against time.” I paused as her crestfallen expression reveal
ed more than any words ever could.

  “I’ll do what I can. No other parent should have to go through this.” She hung her head for a moment, then finally looked up at us. “How can I help?”

  “I’m going to ask you a couple of questions that might be personal in nature. Please understand we’re just trying to gather as much information as possible.”

  She nodded.

  “All right,” I continued. “First, it says in the report you were at the mall when Nexie vanished?” I glanced at my notes, making sure to get the right ones. Nothing made a victim feel like you didn’t value them more than getting their name wrong. Or the name of their child.

  “Right. It was August 22. I took Nexie to the mall to see the petting zoo.” Samantha met my eyes. “You know that already, though.”

  “Yes, but we want to make sure we have our facts straight. Can you tell us what happened when she vanished? What was she doing? What were you doing?”

  “I was standing there, watching her interact with the ducks inside the zoo—it was ringed off with a metal fence. I thought I heard someone calling my name and I swear that I recognized the voice. I glanced over to where I thought it was coming from. There was nobody there, so I took a quick look around. Nexie was safe inside the fence. When I couldn’t find anybody, I decided whoever it was had been calling someone else. I turned back to the petting zoo, but Nexie was gone.”

  “How long were you looking for the person who called you?”

  Samantha thought for a moment. “Maybe two minutes? Maybe three? It wasn’t more than that, though.”

  “What did you do when you realized Nexie was gone?”

  “I thought maybe she had wandered over to see the sheep, so I moved over to that side of the zoo, but she wasn’t there. At that point, I started to get worried. I began calling for her, but she wasn’t there, so I ran inside the pen. I was hoping she had just wandered out of sight—there were a lot of people there with their kids. But I couldn’t find her. The mall went on lockdown, but it was too late. Whoever kidnapped Nexie was gone.”

  “You said you recognized the voice who called you?”

  “I thought I did, though I couldn’t pinpoint who I thought it was. I don’t know, everything just became a blur at that point.” She shook her head, a bewildered look on her face. “They took her on the 22nd of August. On the 28th, a man was walking his dog along one of the shoreline parks and found…”

  “He found her?”

  Nodding, she choked up. “In a coffin. Why would they do that to my baby? Why would anybody kill her? She was so little. She never hurt anybody.”

  “I don’t know,” I murmured, reaching out to place my hand on hers. “We’re trying to find out.” And right then, I realized it was true—we weren’t just on the hunt for Eleanor’s abductor. We were hunting for justice for the other victims.

  “I have a difficult question to ask you, but I need you to trust me that it’s important.” I waited for her to look at me. “Are you an alcoholic? Do you ever go to AlkaNon meetings?”

  One beat. Two beats. Then, finally, Samantha nodded.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ve been sober for a year. AlkaNon is my saving grace. Without them, I’d have lost my baby years ago.”

  “Please, tell us about it. I promise you, we need this information.”

  She paused for a moment. “I was divorced right after Nexie was born. My ex couldn’t handle being a parent and he didn’t want anything to do with Nexie or me. He cut and ran. I served papers, but they couldn’t find him. I started to drink and realized I couldn’t stop. My mother intervened and dragged me to the AlkaNon meetings—she’s also an alcoholic. She reminded me that Nexie was all I had and that if I kept up the drinking, I’d lose her. That scared me, so I started going out of fear. Now, I go out of love.”

  I asked for her regular meeting place and then asked, “Has anybody at your meetings ever showed an overt interest in your life—I mean, during the month before Nexie vanished? Did anybody seem too interested in your home life and daughter?”

  Samantha stared at me for a moment. “You mean that someone there could have taken her?”

  “We don’t know. We’re just gathering information.” I hoped to hell she wouldn’t go off on the group. We needed her to be discreet. “Listen to me. You can’t talk about this to anybody. The more information we gather, the better we can assess who’s doing this. But we need it to stay quiet because we don’t want to scare away whoever’s killing these little girls. Do you understand?”

  After a pause that felt entirely too long, Samantha nodded. “Yeah. Actually, I do understand. I used to work for the Department of Children’s Services, and we investigated abuse claims. We had to be cautious so that if we found abuse, we didn’t muddy our case. And we had to make sure we had the right suspect. After a while, I couldn’t take the parade of abuse—it ate at my heart, so I went back to school and got my teaching certificate. I wanted to make a difference in the children’s lives in a more positive manner that didn’t leave me drained.”

  “Then you get it—why neither you nor our agency can go off half-cocked.”

  She nodded. “Yes. And there was a woman at the meetings for a while who seemed odd to me. She was constantly asking how Nexie was, even though she had never met her. I was uncomfortable around her and did my best to avoid her. Do you think she…”

  “We can’t answer that. But the more you tell us, the better. Can you tell us what she looked like? If we send a sketch artist to you, can you work with them?” The Wild Hunt had a sketch artist they occasionally employed.

  “I can. She was blond, short—about five-two. Very thin. I remember thinking she looked like she’d had a hard life. Weathered, if you know what I mean. She was there because she had been an addict—addicted to crackalaine. Oh, and she was a shifter.”

  Bingo. I jotted down what she said. “Do you remember her name?”

  “Only her first name—we never give last names in the group. She told me her name was Naomi. She never told me much about her own life, though, even though she was prying into mine. But she stopped coming to the group…sometime…shortly before they found my daughter’s body.” Samantha squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh good gods help me. Was I talking to Nexie’s killer?” She leaned her head on her arms on the table and began to cry.

  I glanced over at Viktor, who looked both uncomfortable and incredibly sad. I leaned over and rubbed Samantha’s shoulder.

  “Just breathe. We don’t know for sure, so please, just breathe and rest. We’ll be in touch as soon as we know more, and I’ll arrange for a sketch artist to come over today, if you have time.”

  After a moment, Samantha raised her head and wiped her eyes on a tissue. “I’m going home, so send him there. I took this afternoon off because I needed to wait for the cable guy anyway.” She paused, then softly added, “Find her. Find the woman who killed my Nexie, and those other babies. Find her before she kills the little girl she has now. Please.”

  “We’re doing our best,” I said, slowly standing. “Do you want me to call someone to be with you?”

  Samantha shook her head. “No. I promised myself I wouldn’t drink today, and I keep my promises. Every day, I wake up and promise myself that I won’t drink for just one day. That’s how I make it through.”

  As Viktor and I headed out, I glanced at him. “We need to find that bitch and fast.”

  “I agree,” he said. “And I hope she puts up a fight so we have an excuse to take her out.”

  On the way back to the office, I asked Viktor if we could stop by my bank so I could make a deposit and take out some cash. “I won’t have time after work, given I have to go home and get ready for my session with Marilee tonight.”

  “No problem. Where to?”

  “We’re near the main branch—the ASCU.” The Associated Shifters Credit Union wasn’t just for shifters, and they offered the best rates on car and house loans. I had been going to them for years because I didn’t
like dealing with the Fae, and I wasn’t inclined to bank with the vampires, either.

  Viktor parked across the street in the parking garage. “Change a twenty for me? I need fives.” He handed me a twenty-dollar bill.

  “Sure thing. I’ll be back in a few.” I slipped out of my car and headed across the street, waiting till there was a lull in traffic so I could dash across. I crossed between a black sedan that was parked in front of the credit union with its motor running and an SUV. The credit union took up the bottom two stories of an office building that also housed a gym and several apartments.

  As I jogged up the front steps, stopping at the double glass doors, a crow suddenly swept down to circle around me. I paused, turning around to watch as it flew away, my back to the entrance. The crow shrieked at me, and the next second, there was a sudden change in pressure as a great roar blasted past me. My ears felt like someone had jabbed ice picks in them and I couldn’t hear.

  A split second later, I felt an eerie calm descend, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. A shower of glass blew past me and I felt some of the shards lodge in my back. And then, the blast picked me up to carry me with it.

  I’m flying, I thought, feeling oddly calm as I sailed over the stairs, toward the road past the sidewalk. I was gliding on the wind, sailing with my arms spread out like wings. As the pavement rose to meet me, I suddenly realized that I was going to land hard on the asphalt. I caught a quick glimpse of Viktor racing across the street toward me, and then, time speeded up again and I hit the road, hard, skidding along it till I came to a stop as the black sedan pulled out and rolled down the street.

  I still couldn’t hear, and I could barely breathe—the landing had knocked my breath away. As I lay there, the pain in my back increased and I saw blood begin to trickle down my arms, pooling on the ground below me.