The Bridal Hunt (Brides of the Hunt Book 1)

by Jeanette Lynn

  Fists swinging, I connected with his ear, right by his temple, sending him stumbling back as I scrambled past him. Sliding for the tree, foot first, I grabbed the gun, turning onto my stomach to point it in his general direction.

  Tucking my knees beneath me, I gripped the gun tight with both hands, rolling to my feet to face him.

  George picked himself up, cradling his ear, sputtering at me incredulously. "You won't shoot me, you love me," he stated confidently.

  "Wanna bet?" Not much of a gun aficionado, from what I’d gathered, by way of watching ol’ George in action, this was much like the guns my grandfather used to have. Of which I knew—that little bit I actually did know, thank you, Grandpa—meant you had to cock the hammer back first, before pulling the trigger. Doing just that, shaking and clammy, I took a deep breath and prayed for the best.

  “I’m assuming this has at least one bullet in it,” I muttered, lips barely moving as my expression pinched tight.

  George must have seen something in my eyes and backed up, thrusting his hands high in the air. Where's that damn syringe he had, I wondered a little distractedly, adjusting my grip.

  "You don't mean that," he said quietly, hurt lacing his tone.

  "How exactly did you get here in the first place?" I asked coldly.

  "I tried to follow the overgrown white monkey when he snatched Candy up and took off, but I lost him. I thought all hope was lost until she came back later, found me, and told me everything. She showed me to the portal and I made her come back with me. She was supposed to get you alone so I could rescue you and take you back."

  Spitting as if to curse his bumble brained accomplice, he took a step towards me. Shaking my head, I scuffed my boot, kicking dirt up at him, and motioned him back.

  "Okay. Okay. I get it." Grimacing, he sighed heavily. "They've brainwashed you."

  "Really? Brainwashed me?!"

  "Yeah, but I can fix it! Don’t you see? We can even live here if you want to. In fact, I've made us a little love nest and everything. I'd do anything for you, Willy." He said this all so reasonably, cajolingly, as if I’m the crazy one, but then his voice hardened. "Even save you from yourself."

  Face a mask of fury, he launched himself at me. My hands shook uncontrollably, heart hammering, eyes burning, as my fingers squeezed the trigger. “You did this to yourself. I’m sorry,” I whispered hoarsely.

  George shoved my hands at the last possible moment, twisting one way as the gun fired off in another. I wasn’t ready, almost dropping the damned thing as it recoiled and my grip slipped. I was surprised I hadn’t somehow taken an eye out—mine or George’s—in the process.

  Arms wrenching in their sockets as George yanked my forearms, I screamed, crying out as he flung me to the side, sending me careening towards the ground, and elbowed me in the stomach. The gun still held loosely in my left hand, if only barely, I tried to tighten my grip.

  As determined to hold on as he was to make me relinquish my hold, we wrestled around on the ground. “No. NO!” I shouted. “Off, asshole! Let... go!”

  Legs kicking out as I thrashed about, I managed to curl both hands around the gun’s grip again and hold tight, unwilling to let it go. I didn’t want to find out what he’d do with it now, should it end up in his hands.

  George grunted as he took an elbow to the neck, one of his hands slipping free of the barrel as he howled, then choked. Fist reeling back, he was on me again within seconds, ignoring my screams. Face mottled purple and red, he hissed angrily, punching me in the side of the head. Black spots dancing in my vision, he forced me down, mashing my cheek into the ground.

  I would have kicked at him, but he rolled, taking me with him, and soon had my legs pinned under his weight, his palm smashing the side of my head into the roots of the tree.

  As I screamed and cursed, flailing as best as I could, anything to get him off of me, he pried one of my hands off the gun, slamming the other into the base of the tree repeatedly. He bashed it until I cried out at the pain shooting up my wrist, but still I held tight.

  Releasing my wrist, a tiny pop rent the air, like a plastic lid popping off. What is he going to do now? Drown me with his water bottle so I’ll let go? I wouldn’t put it past him.

  Gripping my shoulder, George wrenched the top of my dress back, and then I felt a deep stab in my shoulder. Holy shit! He’s stabbing me! Howling out in pain, I screamed so loud my ears rang—adding to the ringing already present, a mad but hopefully temporary case of tinnitus from firing that damned gun—tears leaked out the sides of my eyes to track down my cheeks. And still, I wouldn’t let go of that stupid gun. I’d die before he got it.

  At the rate I’m going, I thought despairingly, he just might. Ripping out whatever he’d just stabbed my ass in the shoulder with, he tossed it off to the side.

  Squashing me with his weight again, he went back to gripping my hand, crushing it as he slammed it into the base of the tree. Muffling a cry, I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore the sharp, stabbing pains shooting up my hand, the aching throb in my shoulder and neck, a wave of dizziness consuming me.

  So, not a water bottle strangling attempt... He’s just going to straight up kill my ass. What the hell was that? A pen? An ice pick? I must be losing a lot of blood, and fast, to feel this woozy. “Asshole. What was... what was... Stab... you...”

  George paused, stopped fighting me and just held me there, freezing us in place.

  "It's okay, Willy. It's okay," he crooned, his voice turning soothing as my hands went floppy.

  "What did... what did... yoouuu...?" I mumbled. My words grew slurred and garbled.

  The more I spoke, the more it felt like I had a wad of cotton in my mouth, my tongue thickening. The world started turning fuzzy, my grip going lax.

  NO! My mind screamed, while my fingers slipped, body twitching uselessly, unable to cooperate. The syringe, I thought, before my mind completely muddled. Not a dammed water bottle, you moron, Mina.

  "Don't you worry, pumpkin. I'm going to fix everything," George promised, kissing my lips as my body went completely limp.

  Eyes rolling back in my head, I was swept into oblivion.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  E

  yelids fluttering, I awoke when I heard a noise. It was a weird noise, unusual, a sort of crinkling and crackling with a strange, clipping trickle, my mind trying to figure out exactly what it was and where it was coming from, and why the hell was I hearing it in the first place, as I regained consciousness.

  Blurry, grit filled eyes slowly blinking open, then slamming back shut to squint, the first thing I noticed was dirt—lots of dirt. I’m on the ground. Why am I sleeping in the dirt on the ground? Ugh. My body aches have body aches. Groaning, I scrubbed my face and sat up a little.

  “Oh... whoa.” The world spun and I gasped, a wave of nausea rolling over me.

  "Here, drink this." Air whooshed past me as a small plastic cylinder was thrust under my nose. The sound of liquid sloshed.

  My muddled brain was still trying to get itself together as I reached a shaky hand out, trying take the proffered drink, grasping at the tiny cup. Bringing my other hand up to help hold it, fingers shaking as my fuzzy mind slowly came around, I carefully brought it to my lips and sipped a little.

  Water. It’s water. A bit warm, with a funny after taste, as if it had sat a while, but I didn’t care. Gulping thirstily, I drank more and sighed, slumping when the worst of the nausea eased.

  Tugging the cup away, a hand came up to caress my face, smoothing down my cheek in a tender caress. Grunting, I jerked at the smooth, hairless flesh brushing mine, realizing it wasn't one of my mates.

  "What happened? Where am I?" Squinting as my skull throbbed, I rubbed at my eyes, relieved when my vision finally started to clear.

  The hand went to smooth down my cheek again but I slapped it away. "Don’t worry. You're safe. You're with me now, pumpkin. I've saved you."

  Everything came rushing back as George's voice finally r
egistered and I recoiled. Yelping, I jumped, stumbling around, trying to scramble away from him.

  "Don't be like that, Willy. I've missed you. Don't I even get a hug?" he pouted, holding his arms out, fingers splayed wide.

  "No!" I barked at him, using the wall for leverage as I tried to get away.

  A hand touched my shoulder moments later but I shoved it off, groaning as my head throbbed relentlessly. Heart pounding, legs still wobbly, I tried to navigate my way out of the cave he'd carted my drugged bum off to. This didn’t look like any of the caves I'd explored myself, but I was sure I could find my way out. That is, assuming we were even in the same cave system to begin with. I had no clue if there were others and, to be honest, I’d never asked.

  "Where do you think you're going?" George chuckled.

  Footsteps echoed in the cavernous space when I’d made it a fair bit away and he came up behind me to grip my shoulders. He wrapped his arms around me, his grip firm as he lifted me off my feet and carried me, kicking and screaming, to his sleeping bag.

  A string of expletives flew from my mouth, a growl in my throat, and I bellowed for help.

  "God, I love it when you get like this," George murmured excitedly, nuzzling my neck and sniffing my hair. My shoulders tensed and I hissed, the action making the deep, throbbing pain where there was surely a needle mark, more than likely accompanied by a bruise, known.

  “Ah!” I screamed again, swinging about wildly, trying to head butt him. “Release me, you sick freak!”

  Deep shouts sounded in the distance. Faint growls, followed by a snarl, pricked my ears.

  "Meanie!" Veck bellowed my name, the sound bouncing around, echoing all around me. He did it again, much louder, his rumbling voice carrying clearly in the caves. Struggles ceasing momentarily, my head shot up.

  George froze with me in his arms, almost taking one right to the face as I chose that moment to thaw.

  "Here!! Here! Veck! In here!" Fighting harder now, I screamed as loud as I could.

  Cursing to himself, George clamped a hand over my mouth, muffling me. "Shut up!" he hissed, head dipping close to my ear. "They'll find us!"

  Snarling like Kirch, my lips pulled back, mouth opening wide over the flat of his palm, and my blunt teeth sunk in. Clamping down tight, I bit his hand as hard as I could, refusing to let go, even as blood trickled down my lips. George yelped out in pain, dropping me when my jaw finally loosened and I let go. Shoving me way, a sharp, anguished cry dying in his throat, my captor clutched his hand as it bled.

  Careening towards the floor, landing hard on my hip, I flopped to the ground, turning and crawling to get away.

  "Oh my god! You bit me! I can’t believe you...” Panting heavily, face pale and stricken, expression tight, George gasped. “Fuck, Willy! I’m bleeding... I’m- You drew blood!"

  And it was your shooting hand, you left-handed bastard! I crowed inwardly.

  Scooting along the wall, there was a small pile of rocks next to me—crumbling stalagmites or stalactites, more than likely. Fingering a few, dirt dusting my hands, coating it in more filth, I clutched the biggest one, getting up slowly to face George.

  Gaze scanning the room, I spotted the gun by the sleeping bag and decided to act. Now or never, I didn't hesitate when I lunged, or when I turned to swing the rock at his face, fisting it to bring it down on him as hard as I could.

  The first blow startled him, slamming his jaw, the second one, aimed for his temple, sent him for a little swim, and that was just fine with me.

  George fell back, landing into the hot springs pool in the middle of the room with a shocked shout and a splash.

  Leaping towards the sleeping bag, grabbing the gun and scooping it up, twisting to spin around, I ran on rubbery legs out of the room.

  Stomping around heavily on lead filled legs, I took off down one of the cave tunnels. George was splashing and screaming at me from his messed up little love nest, his voice echoing throughout the tunnels.

  My body was running on pure adrenaline, fear keeping me upright, helping me when I needed the boost of energy most.

  Where the hell am I? I didn’t think I’d ever been this way before. Nothing looked familiar, my mind still more than a little fuzzy, all the rocks and walls and turns starting to blend.

  I debated on shouting out for Veck or whether I was better off keeping my lips shut and just running like a bat out of hell. In the end I took option number two, figuring if my mate-husband wasn't close enough and George had climbed out of the pool already I'd just be giving myself away.

  “Gah,” I muttered on a whisper. “I am not made for this kind of shit!

  "Willy!" George screamed. "Don't you run away from me! LET ME SAVE YOU!!"

  Something bright shone up ahead and my lips tugged up of their own accord, until I was grinning excitedly. I couldn’t help it, despite my precarious situation.

  I still didn't recognize any of these tunnels, or this particular part of the caves, but I couldn’t have cared less right now because, "Light! I see light!" There must be an opening nearby.

  What appeared to have once been a sprawling cave mouth loomed before me, hidden off to the side beside a giant boulder, smaller boulders surrounding it, until the once great opening petered out into a narrow gap. The oddly shaped crevice was low and crumbling, but wide enough to fit through. I could make it—I’d fit—I’d have to.

  Reaching the exit, I plowed on through, not once bothering to stop or look back.

  Popping free to the other side, I stumbled out, catching myself quick. Dusting myself off, I shook myself out and stood up. Blinking in confusion, I gave a little jerk of surprise. Where the heck am I?

  Peering around anxiously, I went a bit wide-eyed, catching my first good glimpse of my surroundings. Well... crap. Now where do I go from here? Worrying my lip, I swallowed nervously, sparing a quick, stomach tumbling glance towards the cave rocks. Nothing but silence from that end.

  Maybe George is still stuck in the pool. Good. I hope he drowns.

  Gingerly venturing a bit farther into the unknown, I stopped ten paces in. Nothing but raw, untouched forest as far as the eye could see, it was lush and wild, unkempt, no worn foot paths or spots of naked earth, no sign of Lo denaii or human habitation, just full, wild wilderness teeming before me. Which way do I go?!

  "Willy!" George screamed, his voice booming from the cave opening as it echoed.

  Creatures shot up from the treetops, cawing as they shot off. Their long, colorful plumes flapped noisily in the breeze as they screeched. A bird, but not quite, with feathers, scales, and fur, I didn’t know what one could call it.

  “Wiiillllyyy!”

  Oh god! He sounds so close now.

  Done jumping out of my skin, having reacted to his voice, I glanced back to see George charging towards me like a bull, his nostrils flared, clothes soaked through as his arms flailed wildly. Various cuts and abrasions marred his skin, cave dirt smeared across his torso, face, and knees in muddy patches, I could spot exactly where I’d gotten him with the rock. He’d have a nice shiner for sure—a scar, even, maybe—to show for it. Any higher and I might have blinded him.

  Should’ve aimed higher.

  "Stay back!" I warned, whirling around and pointing the gun at him.

  George kept coming, fire in his eyes, lips pulled back in a teeth baring snarl as he forged on, full steam ahead.

  "Why are you running from me?" he barked out, flinging water droplets everywhere as his arm flung out and his head shook disapprovingly.

  When I lifted my gun and fired a warning shot at his feet, he froze in place, skidding to a halt a small distance away.

  "You're fucking insane, that's why!" I shouted. I didn't feel a moment of indecision this time, hands steady as I kept the gun trained on him.

  "I am not fucking crazy!" he bellowed, looking every bit as crazy as he sounded.

  "You shot someone! You've followed me around, stalking me! You've deluded yourself into thinking we're something we
're not!” Remembering his discarded lighter, I tacked on, “And I'll bet good money you're the one who set that hut on fire! Which makes no fucking sense, by the way! God, if that's not crazy, then what the hell is?!"

  George peeled his shirt away from his chest to lift it up, a sickening smile twisting his lips. Producing a gun from his waistband, he aimed his spare right back at me.

  Tsk-ing, he smirked. "You didn't think I was stupid enough to bring only one, did you, pumpkin? Had this one in my bag."

  Heartbeat pounding in my ears, I gulped, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat as I stared down the barrel of his gun.

  "It all made perfect sense," he snapped, hazel eyes spitting fire. Raking a hand through his hair to push the wetted strands away from his face, his gun gripped tight in his bloodied left hand, he took a deep breath. "Candy's the one who went and screwed it all up because she didn't want to fuck that useless lump of hair!”

  An odd gleam in his eyes, he barked out an incredulous laugh, throwing his arms about as he ranted, lifting his gun, while I flinched, to wave it around wildly.

  "NO! She couldn't do that one little thing! Will fuck anything with a dick, but that! And what does she do? Runs away to find me!” Lips curling up in a sneer, he spared me a sideways glance as he too gave the forest a quick, cursory glance. “I was going to kill her useless ass too, but I missed. Dumb bitch is wilier than she looks."

  Rubbing his jaw, he growled, muttering to himself as his words trailed off. Shaking his head as if disappointed, he glanced at me and then my gun, then his gun, then me again.

  "You know..." he said after a long moment, the ice in his voice chilling me to the bone. "This could work, too." Nodding slowly, he motioned between us. "It's... fitting.”

  Smiling that crooked smile of his, he laughed and shrugged. It wasn't a nice laugh, and I didn't care for his tone much, either.

  "What do you mean by that?" My eyes narrowed on him and I went ahead and asked anyway, fearing his answer.