Wild Hunt (The Revenant Book 4)

by Kali Argent

  WILD HUNT

  The Revenant, Book 4

  Copyright © Kali Argent

  Synopsis

  Held captive by human Hunters, Mackenna Wade has spent the past two years dreaming of the day she would escape her prison. Every minute since the Purge has been a living hell inside the compound, but she refuses to let her captors break her. So, she waits. Watches. Listens. And when one little mistake opens the door to opportunity, she’ll risk everything for a chance at freedom.

  Even exposure of the deadly secret she harbors.

  Caught in an endless spiral of shame and guilt, Cade Novak isn’t interested in being part of a team or having people depend on him. Been there, done that. It never ends well. He knows venturing into a hostile shifter camp is a suicide mission, and one he fully intends to be a one-way trip.

  Until fate intervenes.

  It’s a battle of wills when these two damaged souls collide, but if they can let go of the past and learn to trust again, they might just find something worth fighting for.

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  More from Kali Argent

  WILD HUNT

  Copyright © June 2020 by Kali Argent

  Cover Art by Black Butterfly Designs

  Published by Peccavi Press INC

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal, except for the case of brief quotations in reviews and articles. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  “Hope is a waking dream.”

  —Aristotle

  Prologue

  Then…

  “And you’re sure you feel okay?” Behind the wheel of her SUV, Mackenna Wade watched the white center lines on the two-lane road whip past her. “No headache, nausea, vomiting? You’re not bleeding from your eyes, right? Nothing like that?”

  “I’m fine, Mack.” Jessica Juarez’s voice blared from the phone’s speakers and echoed through the interior of the vehicle. “Stop worrying so much.”

  How could she not? According to the news channels, no one knew what the hell was happening, not doctors, scientists, or the government. They were calling it a virus, but no one really knew for sure.

  Whatever was causing it, humans all over the world had been flooding into hospitals, clinics, and emergency centers, all exhibiting the same terrifying symptoms. It started with a headache and vomiting. Then came the fever. If one survived that, they could look forward to excreting blood from their eyes, ears, and nose before finally succumbing to the disease.

  The only silver lining was that the victims didn’t suffer long. From the onset of symptoms to expiration lasted only hours, and so far, there was no effective treatment. Thousands of humans had already perished, and the death count continued to climb every day.

  “They’re calling it the Purge,” Mackenna insisted. Well, her people—the paranormal population—were. The humans called it an apocalypse. “That sounds like something to worry about.”

  “Whatever.” The slight tremor in Jessica’s voice belied her dismissive tone. “Where the hell are you anyway?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure.” She’d been driving on the same stretch of bumpy road for hours, trying to make it back to her hometown before shit really hit the fan. “Hold on, I think there’s a sign.” The reflective green highway sign came into view, giving her the names and distances to the next three towns. “Looks like I’m about three miles from Salt Rock, Colorado.”

  “You’re lost.”

  “I am not.” She’d exited the interstate to avoid the multitudes fleeing the big cities and had never quite found her way back. “I’m taking the scenic route.”

  “Right.” Jess drew the word out sarcastically. “So, is that where you plan to stop for the night?”

  “Uh, definitely not.” Mackenna had been on the road for nearly six hours, and she could feel every mile in the tight muscles of her neck and shoulders. Even if she had planned to pull over for the night, it wouldn’t be in a no-name mountain town with a population of just a few hundred. “I’ll stop for coffee at the next place I see. If I keep going, I can make it there before sunrise.”

  “Mack…”

  She could practically hear Jess rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. “Relax. I’ll be fine.”

  “Being a werewolf doesn’t make you invincible.” There was a long pause, followed by a heavy sigh. “Never mind. Just check in soon. Promise.”

  “I promise.” Grinning, Mackenna reached toward her phone where it sat in a stand attached to the dashboard. “I’m hanging up now. I’ll call you back in a couple of hours.”

  Without giving her friend the chance to respond, she pressed the circular red button to disconnect the call. Then, returned her attention to the current stretch of dark and deserted road.

  Ahead, the sky illuminated with the faint glow of streetlights, and minutes later, a faded and crooked wooden sign announced she’d entered the Salt Rock city limits. She’d just crossed a narrow bridge over a slow-moving creek when her SUV began to shudder and veer to the right, pulling her forcibly onto the shoulder.

  With her heart pounding into her throat, she gripped the wheel tight and slammed on the break, sending her vehicle fishtailing through the gravel before finally skidding to a jerky stop. Cursing under her breath, she fumbled around with the gear shift, placing the transmission in park before killing the engine.

  Eyes screwed closed, hands still grasping the steering wheel, she dropped her head back against the seat as she inhaled deeply through her nose, then out through her mouth. She repeated the breathing exercise for several seconds until her heart rate returned to normal, and she felt calm enough to investigate. After checking for approaching headlights in both directions and seeing none, she exited the vehicle and walked around to the right rear tire.

  “Shit.”

  Everything about the slate gray Ford Edge was new, only a few months old actually, right down to the blown tire. Anyone else might have taken her misfortune as an omen, a sign that things would only get worse. Mackenna saw it as a challenge. Tilting her head back, she glared up at the starry sky.

  “Is that the best you’ve got?”

  She didn’t know who she was asking—maybe the universe itself—and she didn’t expect an answer. Being angry was easier, especially when she remembered that she hadn’t paid extra at the dealership to include a spare tire in the package.

  The wind picked up, the frigid air whipping a curtain of fire across her face. She’d meant to cut her waist-length locks before she’d left Fort Collins, but like a lot of other things lately, she hadn’t had the time nor the energy. Trying to hold her hair back with one hand, she kept the other on the side of the vehicle as she navigated back to the open driver’s door. She’d almost made it, too, when
her booted foot slipped in the loose gravel, and she went down hard on one knee.

  Yelling long and loud enough for even the goddess to hear, she flopped down in the rocks and leaned against the SUV while she examined her injured leg. Gray dust coated her jeans and the hem of her black knit sweater. The denim had split at the knee, and blood beaded to the surface of her skin, the crimson trickling down her shin. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noticed the fall had also scuffed her new boots and frayed the purple stitching in a couple of places.

  Although minor compared to the rest of her predicament, disappointment in the state of her footwear mingled with her other emotions, and her lower lids brimmed with angry tears. She really liked those boots. It wasn’t as if they were completely ruined, and she wasn’t usually one to get overly emotional about such things, but damn it. What else could possibly go wrong?

  She allowed herself another few seconds to mope, then carefully—though none too gracefully—climbed to her feet. Sitting there and feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to change anything. It certainly wasn’t going to get her back on the road. Her pity party would have to wait.

  So, she brushed off as much of the pale dust as she could, then went in search of the wetted wipes she kept in the console of the SUV. It wouldn’t have surprised her to find them missing, or that they’d gone dry, or any number of other unfavorable outcomes. Thankfully, they were exactly where she’d left them and completely functional.

  Sitting sideways in the driver’s seat with her feet planted on the running board, she spent a few minutes picking pebbles out of her skin and cleaning the blood and dirt from her knee. By the time she’d finished, the gash had mostly healed, her skin tingling where it had begun knitting itself back together. Tossing the bloody wipes into the brown paper bag from her hurried dinner, she retrieved her cell phone from its stand and unlocked the screen.

  The signal wasn’t great, but it was strong enough for her to perform a quick search for a nearby garage. Only one within city limits appeared, along with an address, telephone number, and not much else. She wasn’t overly hopeful that she’d get an answer at nearly one o’clock in the morning, but she had to start somewhere. To her surprise, however, a gruff male voice answered on the third ring.

  “Oh, thank goodness.”

  After briefly outlining her situation, she sighed and slumped back in her seat with relief when the man—Jacob, he’d said—told her to sit tight.

  Ten minutes later, dingy, yellow headlights appeared over the top of the hill. As she watched, an ancient-looking, white tow truck with a rusted bumper and peeling paint slowed to a stop in front of her SUV.

  Stepping out of her vehicle, Mackenna held her hand to her eyes to shield the glare of the headlights. “Hello?”

  The hinges on the ancient truck squealed, followed soon after by the clang of the door closing. Footsteps crunched over the gravel, and a shadowy figure appeared in the glare of the lights from the tow truck.

  “Evenin’, ma’am.”

  The voice sounded familiar, even though it had been somewhat distorted over the phone. “Hi.” Mackenna stepped forward with her hand outstretched. “Thanks for coming so fast.”

  “I was out on another job when you called,” Jacob explained as he took her hand, his face still hidden by the brightness of the headlights at his back. “Came straight here.” He released her hand and moved toward the other side of her SUV. “You said the passenger tire?”

  Mackenna nodded, even though he had his back to her now. “Yeah, right rear.”

  At the back of the vehicle, the mechanic crouched below the window, reappearing just a few seconds later. “I hate to tell you this, but your wheel’s bent as well.” He rounded the back of the car as he spoke, his hands shoved into his pockets. “I can fix it, but it’ll probably take a couple of hours.”

  What Mackenna knew about cars probably wouldn’t fill her vehicle’s eighteen-gallon tank. She did, however, know how to identify a bent rim, and she’d been sure of the alloy’s structural integrity. Possibly, Jacob didn’t expect her to know that and just wanted to price gouge her. Maybe, but she didn’t think so.

  Now that she could actually see him, she realized that the mechanic couldn’t be much older than her. His features were hard but unlined, and the stubble along his jaw added to his rugged appearance, as did the threadbare baseball cap and ripped, oily jeans. His muscles strained at the black, long-sleeved T-shirt stretched across his torso, and he couldn’t seem to stop moving as he watched her with an unsettling intensity.

  Dragging her fingers through her hair, she kicked at the loose gravel and huffed. Something didn’t feel right. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but every cell in her body screamed for her to get the hell out of there.

  “You’re sure it’s bent?”

  He nodded but didn’t say anything. He just continued to stare at her with that unwavering intensity that made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

  His scent identified him as human, and as far as she could tell, he wasn’t infected, but there was something about him that put her on edge. According to Hollywood, as a werewolf, she should be able to easily overpower him, rip out his throat, and change her flat tire with one hand behind her back. All without even smudging her makeup.

  In the real world, that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Yes, she was probably stronger than the human. Maybe faster. Her senses were definitely more acute. On the other hand, she’d never been in a fight before, and it wasn’t as if she could outrun a car.

  Or a bullet.

  “Okay, just let me grab my purse and keys,” she said with a false cheeriness, playing for time while she tried to think through her next move. “I’ll be right back.”

  It took every ounce of willpower she had to turn her back on him and walk calmly to the driver’s door. Almost immediately, footsteps crunched in the gravel behind her, slowly, hesitantly.

  Step. Pause. Step. Pause.

  Keeping her hands hidden from view, she concentrated on controlling her shift, allowing only her fingernails and fangs to lengthen into deadly weapons. Her eyes burned and watered as they attempted to shift to their lupine counterpart, but she held the transition in check, knowing she couldn’t risk a full transformation. It would leave her too vulnerable for too long.

  The footsteps shuffled closer, the noise barely audible over the erratic pounding of the human’s pulse. The wind kicked up again, bringing with it the acrid scent of sweat and fear. Jacob was close now, too close, his presence at her back heavy and oppressive.

  Curling her upper lip over her canines, Mackenna abandoned all pretense and spun toward the male, lifting her arm to swipe, claw, and scratch. The growl was still building in her chest when she heard the click of metal and felt cold, hard steel press against the underside of her chin.

  She barely had time to register the gun at her throat, or the fact that she was completely fucked, before Jacob jerked his other hand up and brandished a small spray bottle in her face. A fine mist bathed her skin and filled her mouth, the odor musty and foul, reminiscent of the field mice that used to scurry through the barn on her family’s ranch.

  Her vision blurred. Her head spun.

  She swayed on her feet as reality slipped away, replaced by a peaceful haze that beckoned her into the encroaching darkness.

  Her legs buckled. The world tilted.

  She was unconscious before she ever hit the ground.

  Chapter One

  Now…

  The basement was freezing.

  Mackenna couldn’t have said what month it was, but winter had definitely come. There was always a chill in the underground lab, even in the hottest, most humid part of summer, but wintertime was brutal.

  Then again, everything about her existence was brutal.

  Naked and shivering, she pulled the thin blanket tighter around her shoulders as she huddled on the floor in the corner of her cell. After a day of tests and experiments, every part of her bo
dy ached. Though exhausted and hurting, the bright fluorescent lights in the blindingly white room made it almost impossible to sleep.

  “Hola, lobito.” The recruit, a young male with short dark hair, smiled as he unlocked the cage door.

  It was a rare sight within the compound, and an expression she immediately distrusted. She had nowhere to run, though, nowhere to hide, and she was just too tired to fight him. So, she huddled deeper into the corner, tracking his every move but careful never to make eye contact.

  “You must be hungry. This will help.” His English was good but heavily accented, and he spoke slowly, occasionally pausing as if to find the right word. “Here.” Stopping in the center of the cage, he crouched down to place a paper cup and a steel bowl on the ground. “Eat.”

  It was very obviously a dog bowl, but the aroma of grilled chicken was almost enough to lure her out of her corner. Almost. It had been weeks since they’d given her anything except cold oatmeal and dry toast. Once, at the beginning of her captivity, she’d refused to eat. She’d quickly learned there were worse things than starving.

  “Go on,” the recruit encouraged. “Eat while it’s still warm.”

  She didn’t know this male, had never seen him before, but there was something about him. Something that made him different from the others. It could have been a ruse, a trap to give her a false sense of security before he lashed out, but she detected no trace of anger or disgust in his scent.

  She still didn’t trust him.

  “Okay.” He smiled again and backed out of the cage. “I’ll go. Rest easy, lobito. Buenas noches.”

  Mackenna said nothing. She didn’t move, not even when the heavy door of her cell closed. Despite her gnawing hunger, she remained perfectly still, waiting and watching. When the recruit finally vanished from the room, and she heard the electronic buzz of the locks, she threw off her blanket and dived onto the bowls.

  She grabbed a fistful of the shredded chicken and shoved it into her mouth, growling as she chewed like the wild animal they thought she was. The roasted potatoes were dry, overcooked, and she choked twice as she tried to swallow them down, but she didn’t stop until there was nothing left in the dish.