The Jaded Hunter

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “You must have someone helping you,” Jaden said logically.

  “Yes, I do.”

  Jaden shivered. He would only reveal such information if he wasn’t worried about her revealing it to anyone else. Had her fate been sealed then? Was he just biding his time with her until the tribal council ordered him to bring her forth to them? Shivering, she had to change the subject. She had to concentrate on finding out what he knew without revealing herself to him, without admitting to the full extent of her crimes.

  “Well,” she began, twisting her mouth dryly, “since you are so talkative tonight, why don’t you see if you can translate this? If anything, it might prove amusing to you.”

  “What is it?” he wondered aloud, reaching out for the paper she offered from her front pocket.

  “You tell me.”

  Tyr look took the paper in his hand and laughed. “It’s very amusing, is it not? Where did you find it?”

  “In a book,” she said blandly. “So you can read it?”

  “I can read many languages and speak almost all. It was part of my training. If you wanted to know all you had to do was ask. This test wasn’t necessary.”

  “Prove it.” Her face was blank as he turned to her. She refused to admit she didn’t know herself. “How do I know if you are bluffing? Translate if for me. Say the words.”

  “Tyr,” he began reading his name in her hurried script, “of the Dark Knights, tribe of Drauger.”

  Jaden leaned closer to hear his low words, edging towards him on the couch. His accent had become thick as he spoke. Her eyes had studied his lips as they moved, turning over each word in a taunting caress. When he stopped and glanced at her in curiosity, she urged, “Go on.”

  “This fearsome warrior is widely known.” Tyr stopped again, looking at her inquisitively. Jaden swallowed, nodding for him to continue. A strange expression came to him as he read the legend his name had become. “I’m known as a heartless and cruel warrior. I use my massive strength to crush my victims and I do my duty to obtain whatever information I am sent to acquire.”

  Jaden nodded. It was pretty much what Mack had told her except for the crushing part. She began to lean back, stopping when he continued on.

  “I never fail in my duty,” his eyes meaningfully lifted from the page, the rest memorized, “and I’m a great punisher of vampijorivic crimes. The council sends me to watch and to judge. I have sexual prowess irresistible to women. They cannot deny me.”

  Jaden shivered.

  “And I’m a renowned lover.” A roguish smirk threatened the side of his face, as he added, “There it is. All my years narrowed down to a few cold sentences.”

  “It doesn’t say that,” she denied, not knowing if it was true.

  He smiled and shrugged sheepishly. The paper dropped from his hand as he made a move to crawl towards her. “Are you asking me if it’s true?”

  Jaden trembled violently. She couldn’t move away from him. Her vampire tormenter ran so hot and cold. His mood could turn from leisure to passion and back again in an instant and it was wreaking havoc on her senses. Her body couldn’t keep up. At his dark look, all the passion she had spent the last half hour smothering alighted anew. She didn’t answer.

  “Are you asking me?” He drew nearer. His piercing eyes demanded an answer she was too afraid to give.

  * * *

  New York City, New York

  “Jade is dead. I know that bastard killed her, sir.” Rick rubbed the back of his neck, his finger unconsciously going to the invisible wound on his throat. There was no sign of the vampire’s bite. It was almost as if it had never happened. He was still weak from the blood loss, but his strength was coming back in great strides. Thoughts of revenge were the greatest fuel for his improvement. He placed his hands on Mack’s desk. Leaning over, he vowed, “I don’t know why he left me alive, but it was a mistake. I’ll avenge Jaden or die trying.”

  Mack studied Rick carefully. He wasn’t as sure as the soldier was about Jaden’s fate. Dead, she would be no use to Tyr or the vampire council. Pietro assured him that she was unharmed for the time being. If Mack ensnared Tyr at the right moment, then Jaden would be safe and he would have everything he had ever worked for.

  Eyeing the young man’s face, red with bloodlust and determination, Mack nodded. “Be ready in five minutes. I’ll meet you downstairs in the car.”

  Rick spun, striding from the room to pack a bag. Mack leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully watching where the soldier disappeared through the doorway. Lighting a cigar, he rolled it between his lips as he moved to open his sun dial safe. Rick would be a good man to have along on this trip. His anger and desire for vengeance would make him an even stronger warrior and greater ally. Angry men with a purpose were easier to manipulate.

  Lifting the folder from the safe, he dropped it on the desk. The insides shifted, showing a page number in the upper right corner. Mack frowned, tearing the front flap of the folder open. His eyes flew to the bookcase, to the vacant space on the highest shelf.

  With an angry howl, he bit through the end of his cigar. The tobacco fell unheeded to the floor to sprinkle burning ash beneath the desk. Mack spat out the tip and stomped the ash with his heel. Grabbing the folder, he threw it against the wall. Papers skidded and spilled over the floor. Rick had told him everything that happened, even discovering the large book in Jaden’s missing bag. But never had Mack dreamed Jaden would’ve deceived him. Never had he expected this betrayal.

  “My god, Jaden,” he growled. His eyes lit with desperation and fire. He knew his niece couldn’t understand what was written in the folder, and wanted to believe she took it only to hide it and keep it safe. But without knowing what she carried, would she be tempted to hand it to the Dark Knight for translation? Would she give it to the council? Mack trembled, feeling the rare instance of fear at the thought. Staring at the mess of papers on his floor, he shook his head. “What have you done?”

  * * *

  Jotunheimen Mountain Range, Norway

  Ask me.

  Jaden’s mouth went dry. Tyr’s demanding tone echoed in her head. His eyes pierced as he continued forward. His hands crawled over her legs, reaching to fit beside her body on the couch. He kept his weight above her, trapping her beneath him. His expression steamed with possibilities.

  “I grow weary of these games,” he said, his face above hers.

  “Who’s playing games?” she whispered. “I find no enjoyment in being on trial for my life.”

  “No enjoyment,” he chuckled, his eyes devouring her where his fangs longed to. In a low tone, full of masculine promise, he answered, “That is no fault of mine.”

  “I don’t want you,” she denied. Her treacherous heart lurched. Her body said very differently. “I can’t want you. And you don’t want me.”

  At the obvious lie, his eyebrow raised in question.

  “You cannot want me, vampire. You cannot want anyone. To truly want means you have to feel. And you don’t feel. You are an empty vessel, a timeless piece of driftwood sucking on humanity, watching us from afar, but never feeling. These relics of yours hanging on the wall are just relics—something that meant something to someone else, the skeletal remains of past humanity. That thing growing between your legs is just instinct, a bitter part of you that refuses to die like your soul. You cling onto it, envious of the life you snuff out. You’re pathetic and I don’t sleep with losers.” Jaden glared, purposefully cruel. It was her only defense left. She had to keep him at arm’s length. If she had to be mean to do it then so be it.

  Tyr retracted as if burned. He rose onto his knees with a swift, graceful pull.

  “And you are a killer. You have no conscience,” she said, emboldened by his withdrawal.

  Red veins gathered in his eyes, spreading like a demonic plague until the white completely disappeared. Jaden struggled for breath. She had never seen him so angry. She was afraid to move, afraid he would pounce and devour her if she dared.

 
; Tyr’s body slammed with impulse. His self-control was pushed to the limit. He could only cool his ardor so much. And knowing she wanted him, smelling that she did, didn’t make his struggle easier. If she would just forget her damned pride for the moment and beg him, all would be settled and then maybe he could concentrate on doing his duty.

  His fingers tightened into fists. He wanted to kill for her little speech, to hit her until she shut up. But he couldn’t strike her. He couldn’t hurt her. For her words weren’t entirely a lie. He did envy mortals. He envied their laughter and free-flowing smiles. He envied their ability to love and be loved. All he was left with was duty, and he buried himself in it, refusing to get attached, never finding anyone he’d bring to be with him. Even if he wanted to turn someone to share his pain, he couldn’t.

  Dark Knights were not allowed to procreate. Passing the gift on weakened the blood and interfered with his responsibility. He couldn’t even find solace with his own kind. Though he could mingle within them, he couldn’t talk to them—tell them who he was because someday he might be called to kill them. It had happened before. It was easier not to form attachments. Tyr accepted this, understood it, and lived by it. And this mere slip of a mortal was challenging everything he was allowed to hold dear.

  Tyr jerked away from her, dashing swiftly to put distance between their bodies. He moved with unnatural speed, turning to direct his stiff back to her. There was nowhere to run. He felt her inside himself, curling comfortably in his brain, driving him past the point of reason. When he turned back, he bore witness to her wan complexion. He fought the beast within, fought the torment of his dark soul.

  Jaden was shocked by his sudden withdrawal. His eyes had been so intense it hurt her to look at him. Now, they were emotionless masks hiding whatever it was that floated in his head. The red still tinged the sides, but the blue once again dominated the orbs.

  “We are the same,” he said at last, the tone hostile and dark. “You are a bloodstalker. I am a nightstalker.”

  “There is a world of difference between us, Tyr.” She stood up from the couch, holding on to the side, not trusting her legs to support her. She shook violently under his inspecting gaze.

  “Why?” he asked sharply. “We both kill.”

  “You kill innocents.” Jaden couldn’t finish the words. She was as guilty as he and she knew it. Well, maybe not on the same level. She thought she might be forced to explain her hesitance, but didn’t have to. He interrupted before she had a chance to retract.

  “And you kill vampires,” he said enigmatically, his eyes threatening to fill again. Jaden had seen the red rage before, had been attacked by it. But never had she seen a creature keep it at bay. His accented words came in a low growl, strained by time and death. “Death is death. Your hands are stained red, as are mine. Death is the life that has chosen us.”

  “Chosen us?” It was hard to be faced with his convictions when she no longer had any. She was frightened by the truth in his words, frightened by the thoughts she had and never said. Frightened that he may say them for her and force her to face what she couldn’t. Frightened by how much of the damning truth he might know.

  “Did you ask to be dhampir?” he continued. The unnervingly calm creature was completely gone, replaced by a barely contained monster.

  “You’re all powerful. You should be able to tell.”

  “Dhampirs are hard to read correctly,” he admitted. Then, repeating in a softer tone, he asked again, “Did you ask to be a dhampir?”

  “No,” she said vehemently. “I hate what I am.”

  “I did not ask to be a knight. Though our difference is I no longer hate myself for being.”

  “You can’t hate.” She was angry. He made her angry. The anger felt good. She embraced it. “At your age, you can feel nothing.”

  At that Tyr smiled, a small, unhappy smile that seemed to cause his taut face pain. “You cannot know what I feel.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Jaden didn’t notice that he dared to move closer. She glared out from beneath silky lashes. Her pale cheeks flushed with red. “It is my curse to feel inside your kind. I felt it since I was a child. But, unlike you, I feel remorse for the endless deaths I can’t stop. You can’t know what it is like to feel the things I do, and with a human heart.”

  “Tell me,” he demanded coldly. He stirred with an unearthly speed, appearing before her partly dissipated into mist. As he moved, he tore the shirt from his back, revealing his chest. Jaden’s eyes took him in like a drunkard to wine. He was as smooth and as glorious as she could’ve ever imaged. His chest stopped by her nose. “What do you feel within me?”

  Jaden forced him back with her hands. His pale skin held tepid warmth to her darker palms, the intimacy of the touch making her shiver. Tyr proudly held still. She closed her eyes, searching with every fiber to see what she could find. Trembling, she brushed her fingers over his heart. It pounded even and strong, willing hers to keep time. As she concentrated, her heart picked up his beat until they were one. She searched him, every inch he allowed her. His soul was a blank void, a blackened pit of unemotional depths. Glancing up at him, she replied, “Like I said, nothing. You are hollow.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “Yes.” Her breath came harder to her, partly due to his nearness, partly due to the energy it took to search him so deeply. “I’m sure.”

  Even as she said the words, she wished they weren’t true. Within a flash, his hand moved, striking out faster than she could follow. His nail slashed against his chest, drawing a thin line of blood before she managed to blink. Jaden gasped. His hand caught hers before she could pull away. He held her fast in his tight grip.

  “There are no sureties, dhampir,” he whispered. Then, slowly, so that her eyes could watch, he lifted his other hand to the back of her head. His eyes bored into her, mesmerizing her with his will. “If I have learned anything in an eternity, it is that.”

  Jaden knew what he was doing. He was giving her a look inside himself with the taste of his ancient blood. She tried to resist, but his pull on her was too strong. His will overpowered hers. Weakly, she was forced forward. Closing her eyes, she hesitated.

  “Open your mouth, dhampir,” he ordered. Jaden couldn’t stop herself. She obeyed. A small sound escaped Tyr. He pulled her into his chest, folding his arms around her trembling form so that her slight body became engulfed in his hold. Jaden’s lips touched cooling flesh. “Taste.”

  Instantly, her tongue darted out to lick him in a long sure line over the gash. She didn’t stop to think that it was blood she took like wet silk into her mouth. She didn’t think to disobey. In fact, she didn’t think at all—only saw what he willed her to see.

  Within him she felt more controlled emotion and power than she had ever felt in her short life. She felt decades of turmoil, peace, understanding, regret. She detected the effects of a human life, repeated endlessly throughout time and age. She had been very wrong. Tyr was not emotionless. He felt a great deal. He suffered a great deal.

  The overwhelming pull was more than she could bear. If she was wrong about him then what about the others? Had her whole life been built on a lie? Tearing herself away, she kept her eyes closed. She didn’t want to face the pain of the next heartbeat. Throatily, she said, “Kill me.”

  Tyr pulled back, dropping his hold. The wound on his chest sealed shut, leaving only the smallest smears of blood from her lips. “Why? Because I have proven you wrong?”

  “No, because I am tired of living. I don’t want to see or feel any more of you or your damned kind. I want rest.” Jaden hid her thoughts from him. She couldn’t tell him that his feelings only compounded her regret and guilt over the life she had lived. She felt other things in him, other damning truths she couldn’t deny any longer. Her uncle used her to kill for his own gain. He had tricked her. In some ways she had suspected it for a long time, but she never stopped, never dared to question. And was Mack’s kind of evil any less horrible
than those he condemned to death?

  At one time she had thought she understood her place, had known the path she was to follow. It was simple then. She was ridding the world of evil, and in doing so the personal sacrifices she had to make were worth it. But since then she learned that life wasn’t simply black or white, good or evil. The truth of the reality was still staining her lips, rolling saltily in her mouth. It was in the long history of his blood.

  Weakly, Jaden touched her bottom lip. Tyr didn’t need the mark to brand her. Even if he released her from his binding, he would still haunt her. She would never be free of him, of what he showed her. The truth pounded in her bloodstream, swirled dangerously in her head. Now that she felt the full force of what he was, she would never be able to get the purity of emotion—raw and unfettered—out of her head or her soul.

  The hunt was over for her. Everything she touched had been a lie. She no longer knew if she could trust her emotions or her inherent senses. Jaden felt the strings of her heart pull violently. A pain seared out from the organ, flooding her body. Lowering her head, she was ashamed. The long line of destruction she wrought weighed heavily upon her. She no longer knew if she punished the right vampires. Maybe they didn’t need punishing at all. But of one thing she was certain. She would never hunt again. And if she wasn’t a hunter, she was nothing.

  Tyr felt the outpouring of her soul, flowing over to his like a blast of a desert storm. He knew her self-torment, her grief. But he was ill fitted to comfort her. For all his years on the earth, he’d forgotten the ability to express tender sentiment with words. His hand trembled. He saw a tear brim her lashes. It didn’t fall. She refused to cry. His arm lowered, uncertain. Then all of a sudden the feelings hammering from her stopped. Her shoulder’s no longer shook. Her breath became deep and even.

  Tyr’s gaze swung up to face her. Her emotions were calm and cold. Jaden’s eyes pierced him with dangerous accuracy. Her features formed into a slow, cryptic smile.