Night Hunter (The Devil of Harrowgate Book 1)

by Katerina Martinez

  Dammit.

  No. That wasn’t it. My heart was in the mission, in the cause. This was something else.

  Something hot.

  Something ancient.

  Something dangerous.

  The Horseman moved around his desk and walked over to one of the doors in the room. I had never seen him open it, but he did now, and it led to a bathroom that looked like it had been cut of solid onyx. The walls, the floors, even the fixtures took in the sight of him and reflected his image back out at me, as if demanding that I look at him, that I not lose sight of him.

  He approached a sink and opened the faucet, running his bloody hands under the water as it rushed out. “Why did the hunter want to speak with you?” he called out.

  My back stiffened. Oh.

  That.

  In a moment of madness, my eyes shifted quickly to the weapons rack not far from where I stood. They were sitting there, on a rack, weapons of all shapes and sizes. A sword too large to easily handle, and an axe that looked like it could cleave a person in two, to name a couple. But there was also a knife, a dagger that gleamed, deadly and sharp, as if to entice me.

  I hadn’t noticed it the last time I had been in the room. Sure, I’d had… other things on my mind. But I was certain, the first time I had laid eyes on the rack, there had been no dagger; nothing smaller than a longsword. And why would there be? The man was a tank. What use did a tank have with a knife?

  It’s a trap. That was the only logical explanation. He had put it there, and he had put it there for me to notice it. I wasn’t tied up, my hands were free, and his back was turned. This was a test. It had to be. I raced for it anyway, my heart hammering inside of my chest as I plucked it from the rack and hid it behind my back.

  Was I really going to do this? Right now? The Horseman had just saved my life. Was I about to repay him by plunging a dagger into the base of his spine, and paralyzing him from the waist down before killing him?

  The Horseman turned his eyes up at the mirror in front of him and caught sight of me standing across his shoulder. “Well?” he asked.

  I started inching toward him, my steps slow, my breathing slower. “It’s a long, complicated story.”

  “So, start at the beginning. How did he know you were here?”

  I shrugged. “I have some celebrity among my kind. Remember what I told you what they used to call me?”

  “I remember. An unfortunate nickname.”

  “It was more than that. I was seen as something of a saint to some of them… a freak to others.”

  The Horseman dipped his face into his hands and ran his wet fingers through his dark hair. His eyes settled on my reflection. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t look like them. I have no markings, and no grey skin. I don’t know why that is. Maybe I’m a half-breed, maybe I’m something else entirely. But even without this collar around my neck… this is what I look like.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I stopped inching closer to him. “What?”

  “It is possible your glamor is more powerful than others.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that.” I shook my head. “No, I would’ve seen what I really looked like by now. We can control our glamors. They go up and down at will.”

  “Not always.” The Horseman grabbed a towel and started drying his face. I moved closer to him again, the dagger feeling heavier in my hands with each step. If he found me with it in my possession, I was dead. If he noticed it was gone, I was dead. It was time to act. This was it. “Mages have studied Outsider glamor for some time. Some are more perfect than others. Some are more permanent than others. I could help you find out.”

  I couldn’t have been more than four feet from him, but I stopped dead in my tracks again. “You’d what?”

  The Horseman set the towel down and stared at my reflection in the mirror again. Gods, his back. It was a perfect V shape that glistened with a thin film of sweat. “I could help you with your glamor. Perhaps your true appearance is still hiding from you.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  He paused, then slowly turned around, killing any chance I had at running the dagger in my hands through his back.

  Shit.

  He moved off to the side, disappearing behind the door. “Consider it a form of payment. You are assisting me with the Crimson Hunters. I can assist you in your quest to uncover the final truth about your glamor.”

  “I… I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “To that, say nothing. Tell me what else you and the hunter discussed. You spoke for some time.”

  I shook my head and tried to swallow the ball of anxiety building in my throat. I hadn’t told him the truth about what Varriyuk and I had discussed, but I knew, as soon as I told him I would have his full attention again. Nervously, I shoved the knife into my jumpsuit, pinning it against my leg with the belt of my underwear.

  I wouldn’t be killing him tonight. In fact, I was going to be completely honest with him.

  “He… handed me a death sentence,” I said.

  The Horseman reappeared, his eyes dark, and grave. “Death sentence?”

  “They call it the Sacred Hunt. I’ve been marked as a target.”

  “By whom?”

  “The hunter you fought the other night. Sorzath. I had anonymity before, I guess they probably thought I was dead and they aren’t too happy to know I’m still alive. That’s what Varriyuk came here to tell me.”

  “Varriyuk?”

  “The hunter. Your men didn’t really catch him. He let himself get caught so he could deliver the message, knowing it would end in his death.”

  “A stupid way to die.”

  “Stupid to you, yes, but to his people, he’s a hero now. You have to understand, the hunters are fanatics, highly spiritual, and superstitious. Sorzath would have made the declaration and asked for volunteers to deliver the message. Varriyuk would have stood, pledged his fealty to Sozath, to the clan, to the hunters… there would have been a ceremony—like a wake—celebrating his life, honoring his house. Sex, food, drink, music. So… I guess it’s not all bad.”

  “You joke, but this is serious.”

  “It is.”

  “Why did you wait to tell me?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t trust me.”

  “Should I?”

  He paused. “I saved your life and healed your wounds.”

  “And that’s why I told you.”

  The Horseman took in a deep breath through the nose, then a knock at his door broke his concentration; as if it had caught him slightly off guard.

  “Come,” he called out.

  The door to his quarters opened, and Brickmore was standing there. He eyed the shirtless horseman up, then glanced at me. “You summoned me, sir?” Brickmore asked.

  The Horseman pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, of course. We are done here.”

  “Done?” I asked.

  “For now. I have matters to attend to. Take this one to the D-block showers. Let her get cleaned up. Then escort her back to her cell.”

  “Sure thing, boss,” Brickmore called out from the door.

  I gave the Horseman another look, surprised at the abrupt end to our conversation, then I walked toward the edge of his room. There was no call this time, no final bit of conversation. The Horseman let me leave the room in Brickmore’s care… and with a knife strapped to my underwear. I had no idea what I was going to do with it, or where I was going to stash it.

  My only thought was, maybe Odessa knew of a way to hide a knife somewhere in the cell. Somewhere the guards wouldn’t find it if they decided to do a quick search of the place. What the hell was I thinking, taking it from the Horseman’s rack? He would surely find out it was missing. A man like that didn’t just forget where he put his weapons.

  Brickmore opened a door and shoved me through it so hard I lost my footing entirely and fell flat on my face, sprawled across the floor. I spun ar
ound, my heart pounding, and went to stand, but Brickmore slammed the door and locked it. I could see his face through the small, square window… and he was grinning.

  “What the fuck?!” I yelled, as I scrambled to get on my feet. “Let me out of here, you asshole!”

  “I don’t think he’s gonna do that,” came Knives’ voice from somewhere behind me.

  I spun around on my heel to find her standing in the room with me, along with her entourage of bitches… and Odessa.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “This looks like a fun reunion,” I said, my eyes darting between targets.

  Targets.

  Already I knew what this was. Why I was here. What had been planned for me. My training had immediately kicked in, my senses rushing into overdrive, my heart pounding like an engine inside of my chest.

  I was in a small room. Tight quarters. There were boxes at the back, crates covered in grey tarps with the word HARROWGATE written in faded white lettering across them. There were no other doors, no other windows, no other way out except the way I had come, and Brickmore held the key to that one.

  “Don’t be so surprised,” Knives said, flipping her hair from one shoulder to the other. “The way you’ve been acting, some might say you had it coming.”

  She wasn’t wearing a collar. None of them were. Crap. The deck had been well and truly stacked against me, here. My best bet was to keep them talking while I assessed the biggest threat—the first one of them to take down.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Odessa. What is this?”

  Odessa turned her eyes to the floor, not wanting to look at me directly.

  “You don’t talk to my bitch,” Knives said, stepping into my field of vision. “You talk to me, okay?

  “Your bitch, huh?”

  “That’s right. Now this is what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna tell me why you’ve been seeing the Horseman so much lately.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Knives’ entire face darkened. “Is lying to me really a good idea? Unless you haven’t noticed, there are four of us, and one of you.”

  I shrugged. “Seems like an unfair advantage… for me.”

  “Oh, she has a sense of humor. That’s funny. I thought you fiends didn’t know what jokes were.”

  “I’m looking at one right now.”

  One of the girls tried to cover a snort and failed. Knives shot her a harsh look, putting her in her place, then turned her attention back to me. “That’s enough of that shit,” she snapped.

  “Stop setting them up, and I’ll stop putting them down.”

  She advanced a step, trying to get me to back away from her, but I didn’t. I stood my ground. “What does the Horseman want with you?”

  “What makes you think I’ve been seeing the Horseman?”

  “Your cellmate over there got pretty curious after you wouldn’t tell her, so she gave Officer Brickie a little quickie, and he was kind enough to fill in some of the blanks. Of course, even he doesn’t know exactly what the Horseman wants with you, but he’s also curious. It only took a little convincing to get him to arrange this little meeting, though not before having the sense to come and get us first. Isn’t that how it went, Odie?”

  Odessa lifted her eyes. “You should’ve told me,” she said.

  “I didn’t have to tell you anything.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I told you from the start, it was every person for themselves in here. I knew you had secrets coming in from the outside, and I was willing to let you keep those. But when you started keeping this whole thing a secret, I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

  “Trust me? You asked me for protection, and I stood up for you.”

  “I spent time in the hole for you. Remember? That night when the guards came and took you, I stuck my neck out for you, and you couldn’t even tell me why.”

  “So, you ratted me out?

  “The only reason you’re not telling us why you’re seeing the Horseman is because you’re getting special treatment. What makes you so special?”

  “You think that’s what it is?”

  “Then what is it? What does the Horseman want with you?”

  “I can’t tell you. You know I can’t.”

  “I don’t know that. I don’t know you at all. But if you don’t want to tell me, fine. Maybe you’ll tell Knives.”

  “I’m not telling any of you anything.”

  Knives took another series of small steps toward me. Still, I didn’t move. Instead, I watched, and I learned. Knives favored her left leg over her right. Just by knowing that, and by studying her posture for as long as I had been able to, I knew what side of her body she would use to attack with, and which she would be slower to defend.

  The knife in my underwear was starting to feel red hot against my skin as my own body temperature skyrocketed with the adrenaline. But I couldn’t use it. Not yet. I couldn’t let any of them know I had it. The knife was the only ace up my sleeve. If I used it too early, I would give up my advantage, and in a situation like this one, that was probably going to end badly for me.

  “Let me ask you one last time,” Knives said. “Are you going to tell us what the Horseman wants with you? Is your secret really worth your life?”

  “I’m not going to tell you anything,” I said, “But I will warn you, all of you, to ask yourselves whether this is worth it. I have no problem turning you into a bleeding puddle of yourself, and believe me, I can. Brickmore won’t be able to open the door fast enough to stop me from doing what I have to do.”

  “Maybe. But do you really think you can kill all four of us before we kill you?”

  “I don’t have to kill all four of you. Just you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Knives said, flashing a wicked grin.

  The two girls in her entourage raised their hands toward me, and bolts of light shot out of the tips of their fingers. I flipped in the air avoiding both magic blasts, my body twisting like I was weightless. When I landed, I thrust out with my foot at Knives’ midsection, sending her staggering back a few paces.

  I’d knocked the wind out of her, but she was quick to straighten up. “Alright,” she said, “Have it your way.” She started rolling her shoulders. I could already hear the muscles and bones in her body ripping, cracking, and rearranging themselves. “You know, I was hoping you would refuse, because now I can do this, and it’s been so long.”

  I stepped back, readying myself. Before my eyes, Knives’ entire face elongated to form a snout. Her shoulders rose and fell, her body heaving, her muscles rapidly expanding. She grew so much, so fast, she tore the seams of her jumpsuit and made it fall apart like rags. Thick, bristly grey fur sprouted from every inch of her skin, covering her body in a flash.

  In what felt like an instant, Knives had gained about two feet in height and a hundred pounds of muscle. It was as if a monster had burst out of her skin; a monster with the head of a wolf, standing on two powerful feet, with vicious looking teeth and talons. She roared, and I felt the vibrations inside of my chest.

  Suddenly, that knife I had stashed in my underwear didn’t seem like it was going to be all that useful.

  The beast rushed me with more speed and agility than I cared for. I managed to duck and weave out of her first series of flurries, but when her claws finally tasted my skin, the pain was sharp and bright. I pulled back, putting some distance between us and checking the wound on my arm. It was the same arm the Horseman had just healed, and it was already bleeding again.

  Great.

  “You’re really going to make me kill all of you, aren’t you?” I asked.

  “It didn’t have to be like this!” Odessa yelled, “You did this.”

  “You can tell yourself that all you want. It doesn’t absolve you of what you’ve done.”

  “No talk!” Knives roared, her voice halfway between an animal’s snarl and a throaty gargle. I didn’t think she could say much more than that, not i
n the state she was in, but she didn’t need to speak. That form wasn’t designed for talking. It was designed for killing.

  I focused my senses to a fine point and concentrated on slowing the world down around me. I watched the mages’ movements start looking sluggish and lethargic. Odessa continued yelling, but I couldn’t hear her voice anymore. It was a distraction I didn’t need, so I blocked it out like so many other things.

  Reaching this headspace of heightened reactions and reflexes was as easy as breathing. Another gift given to me by Aaryn, and the product of years spent mastering the art of meditation. Usually it was enough to give me an edge over my opponent, but the werewolf moved quickly even now. Slower, yes, but still dangerously quick.

  I backed up, finding solid footing. When the werewolf lashed out, I ducked beneath her claws and twirled around her. A bolt of magic slowly shot in my direction, and I weaved out of its path, allowing it to sail into the door Brickmore was watching from, creating a shower of sparks that moved in slow motion.

  I rolled along the floor and put Knives between me and the other mage, who fired off a bolt of magic that struck the werewolf in the back and made her lurch forward on uneven feet. I leapt into the air and kicked her in the jaw as she fell, sending her crashing into a metal crate.

  The mages’ eyes widened. They backed up as I dashed for them, and put their hands up to defend themselves once I brandished the knife I had been concealing. Throwing myself into a slide as I reached them, I lashed out at the calf muscles of the one on the left. When I stopped moving, I spun around and di the same to the mage on the right, forcing them both to their knees.

  By the time I looked up, the werewolf was already barreling toward me, drool and blood spilling from her open jaws, her eyes wide, her claws splayed. I went to get to my feet, but the ground beneath me suddenly turned wet and slippery. I couldn’t find purchase, but the werewolf found me.

  She grabbed me and picked me up like an excited child picking up a doll, then she hurled me into a wall. I smashed into it with my shoulder, breaking off some ceramic tiles and cracking others. I fell to the floor in a cloud of debris, winded, hurt, but the werewolf was relentless.