The Hunter (A Dark, Erotic Romance)

by A. R. Ford

  Chapter 6

  Nyssa

  She lay beside Luca until the occasional snore indicated he slept. It was a dangerous plan. But it was the only plan she had.

  The fledgling feelings that grew in her heart for him died the day he locked her in the closet so he could have sex with Cinnamon. The visit with Mary confirmed what she already knew. Luca was cold, callous. Incapable of love.

  Nyssa dressed with a sense of dread pushing her onward.

  A backpack by the door held the few supplies she thought to take: cup, a knife, tinder bundle, flint and steel for a fire. The ragged blanket he tossed at her the first night would be the only covering she would have. Sleeping bags and other necessities that would ease her travels were stored beneath the bed. She could not force herself to be near him. Not even to improve the chances of survival out there in the harsh woodland winter.

  A full moon lit the woods with silver. She carefully chose a path, veering to the south, away from the east or west where Walden and Arkala lay. Those places were fraught with danger. Nyssa continued south until the backs of her legs burned and ached. Her lips dried, cracked, and bled.

  Only when the sun began its descent toward the horizon did she look for shelter. A small cave well off the game trail was the only feasible shelter. The wind grew colder with each passing second. Her fingers were stiff and numb. A shiver from deep within her gut wracked her body. Gathering twigs, leaves, and wood for a fire was driven by survival instincts hard-wired into her brain. Without fire she would die.

  Mucus dripped from a nose that was as cold as her fingers. She sniffled miserably while struggling to create a spark. One finally came to rest in the tinder bundle. A desperate puff of air nursed it to life. Gentle, whispers of air continued until the bundle flamed. Dried leaves and twigs fed the flames until a growing fire warmed the interior of the cave.

  Patience was something that had strangely grown into an inherent strength within Nyssa. She fed the fire until there was no danger it would die. Larger limbs and debris gathered in a pile soon cloaked the cave’s entrance. The structure served to partially block the wind. Nyssa gathered more wood, broke as many pieces into a manageable size as she could. She huddled by the fire with the ragged blanket clutched around her body.

  No sleep came that night. Lying on the ground sapped the warmth from her body, warmth she could not spare. Deep shivers forced her to huddle by the fire. By morning, she was exhausted, despondent, and prayed for death. Living with him was no different than dying of exposure in the woods.

  The sun’s first feeble rays drew her from the cave after the fire had been stoked yet again. She searched for water, nearly crying when a spring at the base of a massive oak tree caught her eye. The water was sweet and cold. She drank until nausea threatened.

  An open field lay not far from the cave. The undulating grasses beckoned. Nyssa ripped armfuls from the ground, carried each with care to the cave, and constructed a bed of sorts. It might keep the ground from leeching her body’s heat at night. A folded blanket could serve her well, if the heat from the fire was enough. A glance at the sky revealed darkening clouds rolling in from the west. Nyssa knew it was useless. Snow was on the way.

  Each piece of wood was a precious commodity. She scoured the surrounding woodland, carrying or dragging each piece to the cave until she nearly collapsed from exhaustion. A heavy snow began to fall. Nyssa climbed into the cave, fed the fire, and huddled on the grass with the folded blanket around her shoulders.

  Snow blew inside the cave. It slowly accumulated until the fire sputtered. Nyssa turned her back to the snow to protect the fire. She lost track of time, numbly feeding one piece of wood at a time into the flames.

  Hungry fires devour wood, especially those fed by girls within moments of freezing to death. The supply of wood diminished until it was gone. Daylight faded along with her hope of surviving alone in the cave.

  Chapter 7

  Luca

  The girl was easy to track. She was no expert. Fear made her careless. He caught the trail and stayed on it until the snow began to fall.

  When darkness threatened, Luca found shelter beneath a cedar. He was accustomed to the land, nature, and any weather it could dish out. Brush pulled around the cedar eased the bite of the wind in addition to preventing snow from blowing into the shelter. Two flat rocks stood on end in a trench behind the fire, reflecting the warmth back to him where it was most needed.

  His thoughts wandered to the girl after he settled into the sleeping bag. A piece of jerky was the only food he would have tonight. He wondered if she thought to bring food, a canteen for water. With a drawn-out sigh, Luca cursed himself. Of course, she had not brought those things. Everything remained in the bins beneath the bed.

  A fitful sleep consumed him. Flashes of memories, nightmarish in nature, prevented slumber from being restful. Nyssa beneath him, silken skin caressing his. Her cries of pleasure. The hurt in her eyes in Arkala before he pushed her inside the closet. The flat, dead look. Her gaunt face after days of not eating.

  A faint cry within his mind brought him bolt upright. Luca. A psychic cry, terrified, agonized. She needed him. He stoked the fire, rolled the sleeping bag and stowed it in the pack. The grey haze of pre-dawn gave enough light with snow blanketing the ground. A tug pulled him south, over an embankment.

  He scanned from right to left, head swiveling, searching for a cave or any place natural shelter could be had. An unnatural collection of brush and limbs to the left side of the path caught his attention.

  Luca loosened the Bowie knife in its sheath before moving closer. What he saw brought a cold rush of terror that filled his gut. Nyssa lay beside the remains of a fire smothered by snow. He gathered the pack, the wet blanket, and her in his arms before heading toward the cedar.

  She lay nearly lifeless on the sleeping bag. Luca stripped her naked, knowing the wet clothing would only leech warmth from her body. There was precious little warmth to be spared.

  He covered her with the sleeping bag. Gathering her against his considerable bulk, he numbly considered the gravity of the situation. Body heat would help warm her.

  The fire roared to life with a few extra pieces of wood for it to devour. A tin cup of water thrust against the flames warmed. Luca carefully pressed it against her lips. Drop after precious drop poured inside her mouth. The instinctive movement of her throat assured him she swallowed. The wet blanket and clothing hung on a limb near the fire drying. He repeatedly heated cups of water until the canteen was half empty.

  The snow abated as the sun rose high in the sky. Its heat melted the virgin snow. Luca kept the fire stoked, back against the tree, until Nyssa stirred in his arms. Her eyes opened drowsily to reveal the flat, brown depths. Even with all his work to save her, she still hid within the deep recesses of her mind. The thought pained him.

  “Are you strong enough to travel?” he asked, fingers gliding through the short, silken strands of hair. The only response was a faint nod.

  He helped her dress before draping the folded blanket over her shoulders. A confusing fact niggled inside his head. How had she thought to survive with only a thin shirt, jeans, and a blanket to keep her warm? Reality struck. Nyssa’s need to escape him was greater than the need to improve her chances of survival.

  The journey to the cabin was undertaken in silence. Luca kept a hand on Nyssa at all times--around her wrist, holding her hand, or with a finger curled into a belt loop of the jeans.

  Nyssa sought to the fireplace the second they arrived at the cabin, striking flint to steel, nursing the tinder bundle and feeding twigs into the flames. The desperation for warmth brought other odd behaviors. She sat at the fireplace for the remainder of the evening.

  No work was more important than Nyssa. Luca remained in the cabin. He observed her in a belated effort to sense her needs. Hot tea and coffee were both consumed without question.

  Luca feared she would run again if given the chance. So, he sat with her at the fireplace, bi
ding his time, stalking her for the right moment. “If I hadn’t found you, Nyssa, you would be dead now.”

  The statement brought an odd stillness. Nyssa drew both knees against her chest, eyes fixed on the flickering flames. The flat, dead look in her eyes faded.

  He knelt in front of her, gut clenching when she tensed and shifted away. “I was wrong. I’ve done a lot of bad things to you. You did nothing to deserve any of it.”

  His hand moved to her sock-clad foot, fingers easing the tension he felt there. “I need you here with me, Nyssa. Please don’t go out there again. You don’t have the skills to survive on your own. I will teach you everything you need to know. If you want to go at least wait until spring when the weather warms.”

  Time stretched interminably between them. The flat, dead look faded to be replaced by flickers of something in her eyes. Slender arms caught his neck, fingers clutching the flannel shirt with a desperation. He felt the tremors of her body.

  The first tear was followed by hundreds of its sisters. A small victory was won. Nyssa refused to release her hold. He lifted and cradled her in his lap, one hand stroking her side repeatedly.

  “I wish you would talk to me, Nyssa. I... I can’t see inside your head. What can I do to make things right with you? Cinnamon...everything.” He wanted, no, needed her to stay. This wisp of a girl woke something in his heart he thought long dead. Having her here meant something to him.

  Her fingers wove between his. The pad of her thumb stroked his hand. The humming began again, lilting and lyrical and beautiful. He knew it was as much as she was willing to give for now. The humming soothed his frantic urge to erase the wrongs committed. Some wrongs cannot be erased.

  “You’ve calmed down.” Nyssa inclined her chin at the statement. He felt a sense of calm pervading her body. There was no tension, her head resting against his shoulder, limbs pliant.

  Her fingers released his. Without warning, Nyssa cupped his neck. Harmony. Luca’s eyes closed with the sense of bliss that came at her touch.

  “Would you at least talk to me with your mind? You do that sometimes. I heard you call for help in my head.” Luca’s low growl brought a hitching breath in response. His lips found her forehead, resting there, and he inhaled deeply. The rich, intoxicating scent of Nyssa filled his senses, wisps of hair tickling his nose.

  The hand moved from the bunched muscles of his neck to his shirt. Nimble fingers unbuttoned a few buttons before sliding inside to rest against the furred warmth of his chest. A finger traced a heart-shaped outline in the center of his chest. A silken palm came to rest there, silently communicating something that Luca was not sure he understood. Although they sat in front of the fireplace for hours, her fingers remained cool.

  Nyssa stirred again, shifting restlessly in his lap. Her lips brushed his cheek. A whispered caress. Absolution of his sins. The jagged fissure in his heart mended, whole once more. I will try.

  “Thank you, Nyssa. Feel what that means to me, inside my head. Walk around all you want. See for yourself.”

  I know.

  “So, you’ve been there already, eh? Good girl. Now come back to me, no more hiding in your head,” he grumbled.

  They sat by the fire until sleep threatened to claim them. Luca carried her to bed, stoked the fire, and returned. Nyssa curled against him, face pressed against his chest. He smiled and simply held her. “Never again. Say you’ll never leave me again.”

  Never. The word echoed in his mind.

  Chapter 8

  Luca

  Nyssa’s journey was not complete. In the days that followed the flat, dead look in her eyes was replaced by a myriad of emotions. Curiosity. Uncertainty. Fear. Sadness. Fear and sadness were Luca’s undoing. He could not bear to stand idly by when the chocolate eyes reflected emotions that were the result of his actions.

  Although she did not reply when he spoke to her, he continued with daily conversations. Deciphering Nyssa’s expressions and body language became a challenge. The day after their return to the cabin, Nyssa sat in front of the fireplace feeding a steady stream of logs into the flames. Luca crouched in front of her, grasping a hand when he saw it tremble.

  “You’re warm and safe here.”

  Nyssa dropped the wood and drew her knees up against her chest. A sigh followed along with the pillowing of her head on a knee.

  “I won’t let you get cold again. We could go to Arkala and buy a coat if there’s one to be had.”

  His words brought a frown and a furrowed brow. She scooted farther away. “I take it you’re not interested in going to Arkala. Memories from there are not so good.”

  Luca moved toward her, waiting patiently until she was trapped against the wall. Caging her with his arms and knees, he leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you, Nyssa. Let me comfort you.”

  Rapid, panting breaths puffed from her lips, chest rising and falling faster when his hands settled on her arms. A hoarse mewl burst from her lips when his knees trapped her hips. Her hands pushed against his chest, arms stiffening when he pulled her closer.

  “Take a deep breath. You’re frightened of me. What are you afraid I’ll do, Nyssa? Show me, talk to me.”

  Hands covered her crotch, eyes screwed tight. It was just as he suspected. She feared being forced. Or perhaps she feared their joining. The taint from memories of Arkala and Cinnamon overpowering and pervasive. Luca picked her up as gently as he could, although she thrashed and fought. A human wildcat with chocolate eyes and wispy silken hair fought with him.

  “Stop, Nyssa. I don’t want to hurt you. If you continue fighting, there is a chance you’ll be injured.” The thrashing and mewls continued until she lay on the bed, her legs restrained by his weight. He held both wrists in one hand over her head. “If you continue to fight, I’ll tie you to the bed.”

  The fear reflecting in her eyes brought a realization. She would not fight to avoid being restrained, by ropes or shackles. Nyssa’s boots hit the floor. He unfastened her jeans, fingers curling inside the waistband, peeling them off her legs. The ragged panties that he wanted so desperately to replace followed.

  “I’m going to touch you, Nyssa, with my hands. Between your legs. Open for me.”

  Tears slid down flaming cheeks. His fingers dug into her knees, spreading her legs until nothing hid the secret treasures nestled there.

  Luca’s fingers began the first exploration, combing gently through the thin, dark hair covering her mound and slit. Blunt fingers opened the delicate petals, his thumb stroking the nub at the apex of her sex. A whimper came at his touch.

  He used soft kisses on her thighs to soothe her. Luca found it impossible to fight down his arousal. This close to heaven’s gate and he must deny himself. There would be time later to take what he needed.

  A languid lick along the seam opened her petals further. The flick of his tongue against the swollen, nerve-rich bud brought a gasp. His fingers joined the quest to please her. Thrusting, stroking, stretching. Mewls and gasps of pleasure filled the air, her fingers tangling in his hair. Bucking hips and panting moans signaled her release.

  Luca held her afterwards, ignoring his painful need. She fell asleep in his arms.

  “Come back to me, Nyssa,” he whispered in the darkness. Fear that she would never fully be his gnawed at his gut. Near dawn he fell into a restless slumber broken by terror-filled visions of life without Nyssa.

  *****

  Dropping trees for next year’s firewood was best done when the weather was cool. He stripped off the flannel shirt when sweat covered his body. Hypothermia was a real danger for anyone wearing wet clothing in the cold.

  Luca made short work of half a dozen smaller trees when the axe began showing signs it was dulling. It took longer to drop a tree. The bite wasn’t as deep. Nyssa looked expectantly at him when the file he searched for was missing from the leather tool bag.

  “Can you go fetch it?” An emphatic nod followed his question. “Be quick now.”

&
nbsp; Nyssa darted along the path toward the cabin. The wait stretched interminably. A faint scream broke the woodland quiet. Trees forgotten, Luca raced toward the cabin. Terror and rage clutched his heart when the cabin came into view.

  The door stood open. Upon entering the cabin, he found the bucket containing tools on its side. The file lay inches from the door. Blood smeared the door jamb. Droplets led away from the cabin to the west. Someone had Nyssa. The possibility she was injured in a struggle reared its ugly head. Finding her became his central focus.

  The Hunter reappeared in all his gruesome glory. A roar of rage split the air. Gnarled fists beat his chest, pupils dilated until the icy blue irises nearly disappeared. Those responsible for taking his mate would die. Painfully. Without question. A switch clicked inside his head. The transformation was complete.

  Luca packed a bag of survival gear and weapons. The Bowie knife and several smaller knives fit in leather sheaths strapped to his thighs. Other gear waited for him in Jack’s old barn.

  Whoever had taken her left a trail an amateur could have tracked. Luca was no amateur. He followed the trail west along the ridge line.

  A rocky outcropping near Jack’s place gave a vantage point where the valley below could be seen for miles. Binoculars from his time in the resistance revealed a group of people walking northwest toward Walden. The path would take him close to Jack’s.

  Jack looked up from his place on the porch when Luca stalked toward the cabin. The set of his jaw and shoulders said it all. Jack met him on the path.

  “Where’s Nyssa?”

  “They took her. My things, you still have them in the barn?” Luka asked.

  “Of course. Your things are always safe here. Let me go with…”

  “No. I go alone. Give me two days. Mary should be ready. Who knows what they’ll do to her.” The words were clipped, final.