Wild Hunt (The Revenant Book 4)

by Kali Argent

  The paper cup of water was small, barely more than a drink or two, but she tilted it to her lips, downing the contents in one long swallow. It was the best meal she’d had in longer than she could remember, but it still hadn’t been enough to satiate.

  She’d been too hungry to question the quality of the food. Now, however, she couldn’t help but wonder what fresh hell awaited her come morning. Decent food was always followed by some new, inventive torture. Goddess, she was so stupid.

  “Ugh!” Disappointed in herself, frustrated with her situation, she grabbed the bowl and flung it at the door of the cage.

  It bounced off the steel bars with a loud clang that echoed around the room and made her ears throb. That wasn’t what stole her breath and made her pulse double, though. It had been the barest movement, possibly a trick of the light, but she swore she’d seen the door move from the force of the blow.

  Trying to keep her expectations to a minimum, she crawled forward, stretching out her fingers toward the bars. Her hand trembled, her entire body vibrated, but she couldn’t bring herself to actually touch the steel. She couldn’t bring herself to hope.

  Seconds ticked by as her resolve faltered. The recruit, as green as he might be, wouldn’t be that careless. He wouldn’t have forgotten to lock the gate. The automatic locks on the cage doors had been replaced after a few of the Hunters had accidentally locked themselves inside with their prisoners.

  It had taken days to clean up all the blood.

  Now, the door had to be manually locked with a keypad on the outside of the cell. Had the new guard punched in the code? She didn’t remember hearing the beeps, but then again, she’d been distracted by the food that had been so tantalizingly close.

  Heart hammering, she wound her fingers around the center bar, paused to take a deep breath, then pushed.

  The door swung outward a few inches, the motion smooth and soundless. Mackenna bit down on her bottom lip to muffle her sob of pure joy. The chances of her making it out of the compound, let alone getting far enough away to find help, were slim at best. Still, she had to try. There might never be another opportunity like this, and she’d rather die trying to escape than spend another second locked within those walls.

  She needed a plan, and she needed it fast.

  Inching closer to the gate, she pushed it open just far enough to squeeze through it, then closed it quietly behind her. Glancing at the camera in the corner over the main exit, she scrambled across the room to the surgical table where the cruelest of atrocities were committed.

  She could only hope the Hunters were too preoccupied to be monitoring the footage closely.

  Searching through the instruments on a nearby metal cart, she found what she was looking for almost instantly. Gripping the bloodstained scalpel, she ducked beneath the surgical table, pressing herself as far as she could into the shadows. She didn’t fear pain. She’d certainly endured worse, but that didn’t mean she looked forward to what had to be done.

  Holding the scalpel to the side of her neck, she took a deep breath for courage, then drew the blade across her skin, scoring the flesh. Blood seeped from the wound, spilling from the cut and trickling down to pool in the hollow above her collarbone. In her weakened state, it would take much longer for the injury to heal, but really, it was just one more among dozens of others.

  The pain was fleeting, barely more than a sting, but that had been the easy part. Now, came the real fun.

  Pressing her opposite fist against her mouth to muffle the cries, she parted her skin and pressed her index finger into the open wound. The pain was electric, searing, and it set every nerve ending in her body on fire. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, rolling over her cheeks and down her neck to mingle with the fresh river of crimson.

  Her temples pounded in time with her racing pulse, and every muscle in her body tightened. One canine pierced the back of her hand when she bit into the flesh, but even that wasn’t enough to distract her from the agony.

  Finally, just when she feared she’d pass out from the self-inflicted torture, her pointed claw caught on something hard and smooth embedded within the muscle. Squeezing her eyes closed, she crooked her finger, gasping when the tracking chip slipped from the gash and fell into her palm.

  Funny how the burden of something so small could be so substantial. The tracker was nothing more than a tiny glass capsule, no bigger than a grain of rice, but when it rolled off her palm and tumbled to the tiled floor, she swore the world trembled from the impact.

  There was no time to celebrate. Removing the device wouldn’t mean anything if she couldn’t get free of the camp. If the Hunters caught her, it would have all been for nothing.

  Now, she just had to find a way out of the room. The main door wasn’t an option. Even if it hadn’t been locked, it was too risky. Unlike in the movies, the vents in the ceiling were too small, and the three windows at the top of the back wall wouldn’t accommodate a human body.

  That left only one option.

  In her time at the compound, she’d watched many of her fellow Gemini enter the gleaming steel box in the corner of the room. While it had been sad, there had also been a sense of relief to know they would no longer have to endure this life. They were no longer in pain. By the time they entered the industrial incinerator, they were already free.

  The fires weren’t burning now, but heat blasted her in the face when she opened the heavy door. It was stifling, and the smell that rushed out made her gag. Gritting her teeth, she stuck her head and shoulders into the cavernous belly of the machine and twisted to stare up at the ceiling.

  Just as she’d suspected, a long, narrow stack extended up into the night, the moonlit sky clearly visible beyond the opening. It would be a tight fit, and the smooth sides wouldn’t make for an easy climb. The heat alone had the potential to kill her, but if she didn’t try, she might as well just go back to her cell and wait for the recruit to realize his mistake.

  Cursing under her breath, she crawled into the furnace and pulled the door closed behind her. Sweat immediately beaded across her brow and nape. The oppressive heat made it hard to breathe, and every inhale filled her mouth with the taste of ash and soot.

  Knowing where that ash came from made her gag again.

  Mackenna rose out of her crouch to stand in the center of the stack and placed her hands on either side of the opening. Hissing, she immediately jerked back when the heated metal burned her palms. She’d never expected her escape to be easy, but it honestly felt like the entire universe was against her.

  It was going to hurt, but there was no turning back now.

  Gritting her teeth against the pain, she pressed her hands against the sides again and hoisted herself into the chimney. Her skin sizzled where it touched the sleek metal, the pain raw and intense. As she climbed, her muscles shook, her meager energy stores rapidly depleting with each passing minute.

  Adrenaline ebbed and flowed, giving her brief respites before the pain of her burning flesh returned twofold. Her hands and feet became slick as the blisters burst, making it even more difficult to find purchase.

  She kept climbing.

  Eventually, the air cleared. The stench of death lessened. Cold wind swept down into the stack, blowing across her face. Almost there. Only a few more feet, and she’d be that much closer to freedom.

  A ragged sob tore from her throat when her fingers finally gripped the lip of the chimney. Her entire body screamed in protest as she heaved herself out of the stack and over the edge, but she’d made it. Sprawled on her back, the asphalt shingles of the roof scraping against her scorched skin, she stared up at the stars as she struggled to catch her breath.

  There was no time to rest. No time to recover. Soon, they’d discover she was missing, and she needed to be as far away from the compound as she could get before that happened.

  Forcing herself to move, she crawled to the edge of the roof and stared over the side, analyzing the twenty-foot drop. It had stormed recently, but m
ost of the fluffy white snow had melted now, leaving only frozen mud to cushion her fall. She’d probably survive the drop, but the odds of breaking a leg—or worse—seemed pretty high.

  There were no rain gutters, no balcony or trellises for her to climb down. Frustrated, she crawled to the back side of the building, looking for another way to the ground. Finally, luck was with her. While the snow had melted on the north side of the building, a sizeable drift still remained on the south side. It wouldn’t be like jumping into a pillow, but currently, it was her best option.

  Crouched on the edge of the roof like a stone gargoyle, she clenched her aching hands at her sides and counted to three before launching off her perch. The fall seemed to last forever, and as she’d suspected, the snow provided minimal cushioning for her landing.

  Her legs buckled upon impact, and she crashed into the ground with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs. Dazed from the impact, she laid there shivering in the snow for several seconds before she could even think about moving.

  The cut on her neck still bled. Her blistered skin wasn’t healing, and she’d picked up a few more abrasions from her trek across the rooftop. She was pretty sure she’d sprained her knee and possibly fractured a rib in the jump. Thankfully, nothing appeared to be broken.

  Thank the goddess for small miracles.

  She had to keep moving, though. Get up, Mack. Get up.

  Through sheer force of will, she managed to find her feet, but it wasn’t without difficulty. Her entire body screamed in protest at the exertion, and her vision repeatedly blurred and sharpened as she staggered into the dense forest that surrounded the compound. Her legs shook, and her knees buckled twice, but she kept moving, putting one foot in front of the other, over and over.

  Frigid winds howled through the trees, bending branches and scattering dead leaves across the forest floor. Overhead, wisps of clouds alight with silver moonlight tumbled across the sky. Small animals scurried around her, tracking her progress through the woods.

  Navigating on autopilot, she didn’t know how long she staggered through the forest. It could have been minutes or hours, but eventually, the trees began to thin, and the scents around her started to change.

  There was a road nearby, a quarter mile, maybe less. She couldn’t see it, but she could smell it. The oil on the asphalt. The lingering scent of rubber and exhaust. Faint at first but growing stronger.

  No, not remnants of passing cars. An actual car. The sound of the engine was barely more than a whisper on the wind, but it was traveling toward her and moving fast. Too fast.

  Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs, and vapor billowed from her lips with every harsh exhale, but she kept going. The cold winds bit at her exposed skin, and icy needles stabbed at her feet, but she didn’t slow down.

  Headlights flared from the east just as she reached the edge of the forest. The vehicle crested the hill moving with too much speed to be a scout. The lack of searchlight meant they probably weren’t looking for her or anyone else, but still, it could be a trap.

  Hesitating, she looked over her shoulder, staring into the darkness of the forest, then back to the approaching vehicle. She wouldn’t go back, but she doubted she’d make it far on her own before the Hunters found her. She didn’t even know where she was, let alone how often that stretch of road was traveled. The approaching vehicle could be her only chance.

  “Damn it.” Stumbling out of the tree line, she limped toward the highway, gasping when her feet finally met the blacktop.

  Halfway into the road, it occurred to her that the vehicle wasn’t stopping. They weren’t even slowing down. Probably because they hadn’t seen her, and maybe they wouldn’t until it was too late. Either way, she wasn’t moving. They’d stop, or they’d hit her.

  Anything was better than what awaited her back at the camp.

  Chapter Two

  Divide and conquer.

  An effective battle strategy when used correctly. Dividing their team into multiple groups and scattering them across the country? Definitely less effective.

  Some had stayed behind in Kansas City to protect the refugees at the Revenant facility. Prince Nikolai Diavolos and his mate, Kamara, would be returning to Dallas to assume leadership of the most powerful vampire coven in North America. Half of their core group was somewhere in the western part of the state, scouting a pride of lion shifters, while the rest of them were on their way to provide reinforcements.

  Slumped against the passenger door of the Coalition SUV they’d commandeered, Cade Novak forced his eyelids open, even as he clenched his teeth together to stifle a yawn. They’d only been on the road for a couple of hours, but already, he felt exhausted down to his soul. Being kidnapped by vampires, drugged, and slowly drained of blood tended to do that to a guy.

  He felt a little better every day, a little stronger, but he tired easily, and the medics in Kansas City had warned him that it could be weeks before he was fully healed. Unfortunately, they didn’t have weeks. The world was still fucked up. People he cared about were still in danger. Whether he liked it or not, he couldn’t remain neutral anymore. The time had come to choose a side.

  Constantly on the move, always fighting for survival, it often felt like decades had passed since everything had gone to hell. In reality, it had been barely two years since scientists had released the PN2 virus in hopes of eradicating the supernatural population across the globe. Instead of paranormal genocide, however, it was the human race now topping the endangered species list.

  Discovering humans had been responsible for their own self-destruction hadn’t surprised Cade. It hadn’t even particularly upset him. In the beginning, he’d just been disappointed that the virus hadn’t worked as it had been designed.

  A lot had changed since those first days of the Purge, though.

  Yes, he still had trust issues when it came to the Gemini, but he was trying. In particular, instead of wanting to murder Captain Deke Collins in his sleep, he almost considered the guy a friend. At the very least, he was an ally, and one Cade was grateful to have on his side. Plus, the big shifter made Roux happy, and Cade supposed that was all any of them could really hope for now—just a few stolen moments of happiness.

  Even six months ago, if someone had told him he’d be riding in a car with a vampire, a shifter, and a werewolf, he’d have thought it was the start to a bad joke. Everything was different now. Everything had changed. Trusting the men and women who fought beside him, whether paranormal or human, meant the difference between life and death.

  Only, this time, it wasn’t his life that needed saving.

  God, he still remembered the first time he’d set eyes on Abigail Dawson. It had been summer in Trinity Grove, and the day had been unusually warm for northern Pennsylvania. He’d been pissed at Roux, and she’d been none too happy with him, either. They’d fought, and she’d broken his nose.

  They both agreed he’d deserved it.

  The first time he’d seen Abby, he’d lost his breath, and maybe his grip on reality, because he’d been positive he was staring at a ghost. For the briefest of moments, he’d been convinced he was looking at his baby sister. Everything about her, from her petite size to the way she wrinkled her nose when she found something distasteful reminded him of Madison Novak.

  He’d spent most of that afternoon watching her…mesmerized by her. As he’d gotten to know her, he’d realized she had more in common with his sister than just physical appearance. For starters, she hadn’t been afraid to speak her mind, or put him in his place when he acted like an ass.

  The more obvious similarity, however, had been their fierce and unshakable loyalty. Both Abby and Maddy stood by the people they cared about, unwavering, unmoving, even to their own detriment. Love and loyalty certainly hadn’t done either of them any favors.

  When someone asked—and they always asked—Cade said his family had died in the Purge. In actuality, his dad had split sometime around Cade’s eighth birthday, and his mother
had overdosed a decade before the release of the virus. Even before her death, she hadn’t exactly been a contender for Mother of the Year, which left him to take care of Maddy.

  That had always been his job—look after his baby sister, teach her, protect her.

  It was his job, and he’d failed.

  “Fuck!” Miles Irati shouted from the driver’s seat as he gripped the steering wheel in both hands and slammed on the brakes.

  Shaken from his morose stroll down memory lane, Cade planted both feet on the floor and gripped the armrest.

  Tires screeched over the pavement as the SUV fishtailed down the highway, and the smell of burning rubber filled the cab. Time slowed, and every second seemed to drag out into eternity. Instinct had Cade tensing, preparing for the impact, but it never came. Instead, the vehicle shuddered to a halt mere inches from a stark-naked woman with glowing amber eyes.

  Thank fuck for vampire reflexes and antilock brakes. Otherwise, they’d be scraping the female off the highway.

  Behind him, Rhys and Thea edged forward to peer between the front seats. “What the hell?” Rhys asked. “What’s she doing?”

  “Help.” The female outside the car lunged forward, slamming her hands down on the hood. “Please, help me.”

  “Is that blood?” Thea Mendez shoved her mate out of the way and practically climbed into the front seat to get a better look. “Is that her blood?”

  Forcing himself to look away from those wide, terrified eyes, Cade searched the female for signs of injury, and he didn’t like what he found. A mess of matted curls the color of fire cascaded over her shoulders, falling down her chest to cover her breasts. Yet, the wild mane couldn’t hide the multiple bruises, burns, and lacerations that covered her from neck to hips.

  She hadn’t sustained those injuries by running through the woods. Someone had done that to her. Someone had hurt her.