Hunt

by Rachel Vincent

  ONE

  Abby

  What they don’t tell you about college, before you get there, is how much time you’ll have to spend dodging your Alpha’s calls in order to get any studying done.

  Or was that just me?

  My phone rang again as I unlocked my dorm room door, and again I pressed the ignore button, even though I was all done studying for the semester.

  Force of habit.

  But to be fair, I did feel a little guilty that time.

  I exhaled with relief when the door closed at my back and warmth from my dorm room enveloped me. Three and a half years in Kentucky, and I still couldn’t get used to the cold or the snow. Where I came from, winter was little more than a cool breeze around the first of the year, and even though Kentucky liked to think of itself as a southern state, no one actually hailing from the depth south could claim quite such a familiarity with the changing of the seasons.

  In my part of South Carolina, we only had two: hot and slightly less hot.

  I dropped my backpack on my unmade bed and took one resentful look at the bulging laundry hamper in the corner of the room, wondering if I actually had to wash my clothes before I packed them. Finals were finally over—I’d aced them, thank you very much—and the winter holiday didn’t officially start until the next day, which meant I had one last night to spend celebrating the end of the semester.

  That night was much too precious to be wasted on laundry. Or packing. Or…

  “Abby!” My roommate, Robyn, pushed the door open with her elbow, carrying a steaming paper cup in each hand. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were red. She looked happier than I’d seen her in two months.

  Healthier, too. Her appetite had come back almost a month before, and her steady hands told me she’d just about put the trauma at the campground behind her.

  “Thanks,” I said as she handed me one of the cups. “Hot chocolate?”

  Her smile rose higher on one side as she took a sip from her own. “Irish hot chocolate.”

  “Because it was made by leprechauns in a pint-sized sweatshop on the outskirts of Belfast?”

  “Because it’s liberally spiked with Irish Crème. Gary’s Christmas present to the entire floor.”

  Our RA was a pain in the ass nine months out of the year, but he was generous around the holidays. God bless him.

  I took a sip and sank onto the edge of my bed with my feet tucked beneath me. “All done with exams?” I said, leaning across my nightstand to press the ratty old scarf farther into the crack in the windowsill. No matter how high we set the thermostat, the draft froze the tip of my nose all night, every night.

  “Finally!” She sipped from her cup. “You?”

  “As of twenty minutes ago. Seven semesters down, one to go.” In six months, I’d have a bachelor’s degree—only the second ever awarded to a female werecat. In the world. Ever. My brothers were proud. My parents were happy for me, but they were also ready for me to be finished with my education, so my “real” life could begin.

  The life wherein I would move back home, marry a future Alpha, and have his shifter babies while he trained to take over our Pride from my father. That’s the way it had been for every tabby that had come before me. All but one, anyway.

  My cousin Faythe—the world’s only female Alpha—had broken the mold. But that mostly just changed the way people saw her. Faythe was the exception. The tabby who could not be tamed. The rest of us were still expected to follow the rules, because the numbers hadn’t changed. There were still only a handful of female werecats capable of bearing children, and if any of us refused to do that, the strength of our species would be compromised.

  We could literally go extinct.

  No pressure.

  I took a long, deep drink of my spiked hot chocolate, suddenly wishing I had an entire bottle of Irish Crème. Sans the crème.

  I had taken Faythe’s advice, and I’d always been grateful to have it. Insisting on going to college had given me the opportunity to be myself—to find myself—before I had to become a wife or mother. But now my sojourn in the human world was almost over.

  The clock was counting down toward zero-hour, and with every dreadful tick and inevitably tock, I could feel fate’s vise tighten.

  “What’s wrong?” Robyn frowned at me from across the room, where she scrolling through some game on her phone. “Your hot chocolate doesn’t have enough whiskey?”

  “The world doesn’t have enough whiskey,” I muttered, and her frown deepened. “Nothing’s wrong. Just family crap.” After what she’d suffered during our fall break camping trip, I wouldn’t feel right burdening her with my problems.

  Robyn only knew a little about my home-life—just the parts it was safe for me to tell her. She knew I had six highly protective older brothers and that my parents had very “traditional” expectations for me. She knew that I could handle myself in a fight, thanks to summers spent with my cousin Faythe. She knew I was still in touch with my high school boyfriend, Brian, but that I only answered about half of his calls, because neither of us knew what to say to each other over the phone.

  She also knew that a good friend of my parents lived less than an hour from campus, and that he acted as my emergency contact and de facto guardian while I was at school.

  What she didn’t know were words like Alpha and enforcer. And Pride, at least in the shifter sense of the word.

  “So, this is our last night on campus!” I drained the last of my spiked hot chocolate and tossed the cup into the trash, then turned to my closet, which was still more than half-full of unpacked clothes. “Last one dressed has to find us a designated driver.”

  Three minutes later, I zipped up my shortest skirt and was just stepping into my highest heeled boots when movement out the window drew my eye. A familiar black Pathfinder was pulling into a spot in the parking lot two floors below.

  Nooooooo.

  I leaned over the nightstand for a better look, and even with my breath fogging up the glass, I recognized the tall, broad figure who stepped out of the car. “Son of a bitch!”

  I knew I should have answered my phone!

  “Done!” Robyn called, and from the corner of my eye, I saw her stand up in the middle of the room, fully dressed. “Get ready to sweet-talk Julie Cass, because she’s the only teetotaler on this floor who has her own car.”

  When I didn’t reply, Robin rounded the end of her bed and leaned over my nightstand to follow my gaze. “What are we looking a…” When her question faded into drooling nonsense, I knew she’d spotted him. “Who is that, and why the hell haven’t you called dibs?”

  “That’s Jace Hammond.” I stood, trying to slow the automatic jump in my pulse. She wasn’t wrong. He was gorgeous, in a totally untouchable kind of way.

  “Wait, that’s your dad’s friend?” Robin said, and I could hear the surprise in her voice, even though she obviously couldn’t tear her gaze from…whichever part of him she was ogling. “Shouldn’t he be…old?”

  “He’s old enough. And he’s not supposed to be here until tomorrow.” My “guardian” had come to collect me a full fifteen hours early.

  In the parking lot, Jace leaned against the side of his SUV and ran one hand through thick, wavy brown hair as pulled his phone from his pocket. A second later, mine rang, and for the fourth time in the past two hours, his name popped up on the screen. I answered the call and pressed the phone to my ear.

  “You’re early,” I snapped, and Jace stood up straight to scan the side of the dorm building, surprised.

  “How did you…?”

  “Fourth from the left, third floor,” I said, and when he found my window, Jace took off his sunglasses and grinned up at me. Even from two floors down, his eyes shined bright blue and his grin lit little fires deep in the pit of my stomach, as it had been doing since I was eight years old.

  I stomped those tiny flames until they were nothing but embers keeping me warm. Jace smiled the same way at every woman who
met his gaze. That grin meant nothing, and it would be dangerous for me to forget that.

  Robyn had identified the problem without even knowing it. Alphas weren’t supposed to be young and hot. They were supposed to be old and wise, like my father.

  “I’ll be up in a second.” Jace’s voice surged through me, stoking the flames I’d just trampled.

  “No! I’ll come down. Stay there.” I hung up before he could argue, and Robyn looked at me as if I’d just threatened to cut off my own arm.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Looking for my coat.” I eyed a suspicious lump beneath my comforter, but a quick poke revealed it to be my pillow.

  “You know what I mean. If that guy promised my dad he’d look out for me, I’d sure as hell let him. He looks like he could take really good care of you.”

  “Stop staring.” A quick search of my closet floor revealed a cardigan, four bras, and the hair clip I’d been looking for all month. It was the only one strong enough to hold all of my curls out of my face at once. “He’s compulsively unavailable.”

  Her hopeful expression collapsed. “Wife?”

  “Yeah, but not his own. His heart belongs to my cousin. My very married cousin.” And his body belonged to whatever human girl was warming his bed on any given week. I’d met at least a dozen of them, in what little time I’d spent at the lodge during holidays and long weekends.

  He’d never failed to introduce me as “Kiddo.”

  I saw no sign of my coat, but Robyn’s jacket was hanging over her desk chair. “Hey, can I borrow that?”

  “Sure.” But she clearly had no idea what I was borrowing, because she was still staring at Jace. Not that I could blame her. I’d had a lifetime to practice not-drooling over him at every big get-together and I’d spent the past three-and-a-half years with him as my official Alpha, yet I was still tempted to stare.

  “Be back in a sec,” I said on my way out the door, but Robyn never even glanced away from the window.

  I flew down two flights of stairs and through the common room, and a burst of cold air hit me when I threw the door open. Shivering, I ran across the grass toward the parking lot in my boots, suddenly wishing I’d chosen lower heels. And pants.

  Jace turned when he heard me coming, and a little thrill of satisfaction warmed me from the inside when his jaw actually fell open a little. But then he spoke, and that warmth died. “What happened to the rest of your skirt?”

  “I left it in the nineteenth century. Right next to your sexist perspective.”

  “Ha!” His eyes flashed in amusement, and I caught my breath. “I’m probably the least sexist man you’ve ever met.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re merely one of the least sexy men I’ve ever met.”

  He frowned down at me, even though I was in my highest heels. “That’s not what I…” Then his grin rebounded when he realized I was kidding. “Funny. Where’s your suitcase?”

  “It’s fifteen hours in the future, where it’s supposed to be. Why are you so early?”

  Jace’s smile faded and the Alpha peeked from behind bright blue eyes and full lips I’d known my entire life. “Change of plans. The council’s called an emergency meeting at the ranch.” The Lazy S, of course. In Texas, which was still the de facto council headquarters, even after the death of the previous council head, mostly because the Alphas were all accustomed to meeting there. “Our flight leaves in three hours.”

  “I’m not on the council,” I pointed out, in as rational a tone as I could summon. “Ergo, I’m not needed at the ranch.”

  “Your dad’s already there, and he wants to take you home for the holidays.”

  “Well, I’m an adult, and I belong to your Pride, not his, so he doesn’t have the authority to order me home.” Even if he was the head of the council, a position formerly held by his brother-in-law, my late uncle Greg Sanders.

  Jace’s frown deepened, and I resisted the urge to give in just so I could see him smile again. “Your father’s not ordering; he’s requesting. Nicely.”

  “And I’m declining.” I crossed my arms over my chest to hold Robyn’s jacket closed. Also, to illustrate my determination. “Nicely.”

  “Fine. Then I’m ordering you to go back upstairs and throw some necessities into a bag. Now.”

  “Why? Are you scared to stand up to my dad?” I knew I’d stepped over the line when a growl rumbled from his throat and my knees tried to buckle beneath me, on instinct. Because my Alpha was angry, and my inner cat knew that was my fault.

  Jace had grown into his position quickly, and as the youngest male Alpha in the world, he was also among the strongest. His leadership had been challenged three times in the four-and-a-half years since he’d taken over the Appalachian Territory, and none of the challengers had come close to beating him. There were only a handful of werecats in the world who could hold their own with him one-on-one, and I was not among those. Nor did I want to be.

  He mirrored my stance with his arm crossed over his broad chest, and I could hear the warning before he even spoke. “Abigail Wade, if you’re not in the car in ten minutes, I’ll…”

  “You’ll what? Drag me out by my hair? Wouldn’t be a first for me.”

  That was a low blow, and I had no right to aim it at him, but the moment the words left my mouth, his anger crumpled beneath the weight of something much worse.

  Sympathy.

  I found pity and awkward compassion everywhere I turned in the werecat world because all my fellow Shifters could think about when they looked at me was what had happened to me the summer I turned seventeen, and how broken I must be because of it. Which was why I preferred the human world, where I was presumed strong until proven damaged.

  “Sorry.” I bowed my head and stared at my boots. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “No, you’re right.” He cleared his throat and I stared at his boots. “We all let you down when you were just a kid, and I let you down last October. You could have been killed out there in the woods, and I can’t let that happen again. So I’m ordering you to go get your things and come with me to the ranch. For your own safety.”

  That was without a doubt the most overused phrase in any Alpha’s repertoire, and it sounded strange, coming from Jace. As if he didn’t really believe what he was saying. But further argument would do me no good, so I sucked in a deep breath and made myself meet his gaze. “Fine. Give me ten minutes.” Then I turned and walked back to the dorm without another glance at him.

  What had happened to me—and to Robyn—on fall break wasn’t Jace’s fault. If I’d told him I was leaving campus, as I was technically obliged to do, he would have sent at least one of his enforcers to watch out for me, hidden in the trees in feline form. I’d kept him out of the loop because I didn’t want to be watched, and Jace had probably caught hell from the other council members for letting one of the country’s few and precious tabbies put herself in mortal danger.

  But he must have taken full responsibility for what I’d done—as any good Alpha would—because no one had yelled at me for my lapse in judgment. Not even my parents, during our bi-monthly video chat.

  I owed Jace, even beyond the normal respect due an Alpha from one of his pride members, and paying him back with insolence was unacceptable.

  In our dorm room, Robyn finally turned away from the window to watch me throw clothes—both clean and dirty—into my big duffle. “You’re leaving? Now?”

  “My dad wants me to come home for Christmas.” I threw my toothbrush, its charger, and a nearly empty tube of toothpaste into my toiletries bag, on top of the small, square box that had been there since my previous trip home. Then I scooped my makeup into the bag with one swipe of the counter. “Will you be okay here on your own?” Since she was staying on campus over the holiday, we wouldn’t have to pack up all our stuff and vacate the dorm room, a convenience I hadn’t truly appreciated until that moment.

  “Yeah. The nightmares are practically
gone. I’m fine, Abby. Really.”

  I met her gaze in the mirror, trying to decide whether or not that was true. She had few physical scars from what went down in the woods over fall break, and those bastards hadn’t gotten the chance to molest her. Still, she’d seen three of our friends slaughtered right in front of her, and most people weren’t used to seeing violence or death, up close and personal.

  More than anything in the world, I wished I wasn’t either.

  “Okay. Knowing my parents, I’ll probably be gone for most of the winter break, but I can come back sooner if you need me. Call if you want to talk. Okay?”

  “I promise.” She smiled at me in the mirror. “Now go have Christmas with your family.”

  Christmas with my family.

  My mother would hover over me and analyze everything I said for evidence that I hadn’t recovered from that summer four years ago. My father would watch me out of the corner of his eye and not-so-subtly mention Brian, and how accomplished he’d become as an enforcer, looking for any sign that I was ready to settle down and turn my parents into grandparents.

  My brothers would follow me into town so I couldn’t get snatched off the street during any last-minute Christmas shopping, and they’d mentally dismember any guy who had the balls to even look my way, in spite of my large fraternal guard detail.

  Going home for Christmas sounded about as much fun as Thanksgiving spent in prison.

  On the bright side, there’d probably be ham.