Not Quite Prey

  Not Quite Prey

  Not Quite Book 4

  Kaye Draper

  Copyright 2020

  Dedication

  I value every one of my readers and friends who support me in the crazy, wonderful adventure of writing. Thank you to all my patrons. A special thanks to Jennifer Sapa, RepunZill Oriana, Kate McKenney, and SG for helping me create, and to Frank Boston for the alpha reading and constant encouragement. I couldn’t make this dream into a reality without you!

  Chapter 1

  “Fucking fuck your mother, you slippery son of a bitch,” I grumbled as I dropped a bolt and went crawling under the workbench to find it. I almost had the gas-powered chainsaw put back together, just the bar and chain left to secure. It was one more relic that would require expensive fuel to run, but the chainsaw was free, and it would come in handy, since the last one I’d had was dead for good.

  I worked on cutting wood here and there all summer long, in between jobs for the association, so I could get Josie stocked up for fall and winter, when she’d need the extra fuel to keep warm in her little cabin in the shifter forest. I’d gotten behind recently, what with all the stupid shit I’d been pulled into for Theo, but now I had plenty of money for gasoline and I wouldn’t need to take another job immediately, so I could get caught up.

  The sound of footsteps on the metal stairs above me drew my attention from the chainsaw and I looked up to find Fin leaning through the railing, staring down at me. “Did you need something?” I asked the leprechaun cur, my voice still huffy from having to crawl around on the cement looking for the runaway washer.

  Fin rolled his green eyes at me and let out an exasperated sigh as he gestured between me and the other side of the garage space, where Emerson was hunched over another workbench, an array of electrical components scattered around him like he was the epicenter of some sort of computer explosion. “I’ve been calling for you two morons for the last fifteen minutes. You’re like a couple of kids too absorbed with your toys to pay attention to the real world.”

  Emerson glanced up, a glazed look on his face that said his mind was still mostly on what he’d been doing. “Sorry.”

  Fin shook his head, but I saw the way one corner of his lip twitched with a suppressed smile. “If you aren’t going to eat, that just means more for me,” he grumped, turning and stomping off back toward the apartment loft.

  I looked at Emerson and raised an eyebrow. “Is it just me, or does he get even more damned bossy with every passing day?”

  Em rose to his full half-ogre height and stretched, his muscles bulging and his back giving a loud pop that sounded like a gunshot. “Well, to be fair, I think he gets bored when we’re not there to keep him occupied. And we have been down here a lot lately.”

  I rolled my eyes. Damned clingy leprechaun. Emerson was too perceptive. Now I’d have to spend more time with Fin, since I couldn’t say I didn’t understand what his problem was.

  Ugh. Feelings were so…sticky.

  Emerson came to ruffle my hair, giving me a fond look, knowing I probably needed help with the whole relationship thing. “It’ll be okay, Sam. Fin just doesn’t like feeling left out. I think his clan always kept him on the outskirts. He never really fit in. Now that you and me are…together, he’s probably afraid it will turn out the same way and he’ll get pushed out. Even though he’d never admit that if you asked him. He’s a sweet little guy, even if he wants to act tough.”

  I glared up at the hulking green giant. “Are you sure you want to open up a tech shop? You sound more like a head doctor to me.”

  His big hand engulfed mine as he pulled me to my feet and toward the stairs. “Nah. It’s just that I’m not too different from Fin, you know? I’ve spent a lot of time trying to hide. And that gave me a lot of time to watch people and try to figure out why they did what they did.”

  I studied his broad back as he headed up the stairs in front of me, my brows drawing together. I suddenly wanted to know all about Emerson’s past. It was a strange sensation—I’d had lovers before, here and there. But I’d never really had what you’d call a lasting relationship. I never wanted to know all about the past of the person I was fucking. It never seemed to matter before. What mattered was the here and now. The brief moment that they were around to chase the loneliness away.

  But with Fin and Emerson, I found myself wanting to know. They’d both had a hard time in their old clans. What cur didn’t have a sob story about how they were treated by their full-blooded fiend relatives? But when I saw that shadow of sadness in Em’s big, red-brown eyes…it made me want to know all about him. It made me want something I didn’t understand. And that fucking terrified me.

  My mind returned to the idea I’d been pushing to the back of my mind for a couple of weeks now. Fin and Em had both had it hard in their clans. I didn’t know all the details, but I knew enough to know they both wanted this thing between us to be something more permanent than anything we’d ever had before. I also knew they both lived in dumpy places on the outskirts of Westhold. Fin’s home was at least able to be called an apartment—barely. But Emerson lived in a slum, holed up in an abandoned building with a bunch of other curs who couldn’t blend in well enough to find housing near the human districts.

  And here I was, with my own fucking cannery. With a massive garage workspace and a clean, safe apartment with locks and wards….

  It was only natural, wasn’t it? To ask them to live here, with me?

  But the idea was so foreign the words dried up on my tongue every time I tried to spit them out. I didn’t do relationships. I didn’t have live-in boyfriends. I had worked damned hard to gain my independence from my clan. Plus, I was a godsdamned monster hunter with a bad attitude and a shit-ton of baggage. I was damaged goods. Who would want to live with that? I’m pretty sure even a slum would be better than putting up with me twenty-four-seven. Plus…people in my space, all day long, every day? Gross.

  I rubbed my chest, trying to ease the weird ache there. It was all probably just my stupid broken shifter genetics. Mates. Bonds. It made people do stupid things, all because of some dumb instinct. And it was far stronger for me than it was for a non-shifter cur like Fin or Emerson. It was bullshit. I wasn’t a damned shifter. I was a cur. I was stronger than animal instinct. That’s why I hunted the monsters. I wasn’t about to let the animal side get the best of me now.

  We reached the apartment and Em held the door open for me, giving me a wry smile at whatever he must have seen on my face. “Let’s just eat lunch together with Fin, okay?” he said, his deep voice barely a whisper.

  I rolled my eyes at him and his constant need to look out for me, and at his continued quest to get me to embrace my softer, more feminine side—the side that was nurturing, and caring, and feeling. Ugh. “Whatever,” I grumbled.

  When we reached the kitchen, Fin was muttering to himself over a pot of spaghetti. I went to the stove and bent to kiss the little firecracker. “Smells delicious,” I said, putting a little purr into my voice to let him know I wasn’t just talking about the food.

  He huffed and climbed down from his step stool. “Should have known. Food wasn’t what I needed to get you up here. I should have just started waving my dick around.”

  I laughed and grabbed a set of potholders, taking the pot of spaghetti over to the table and placing it on the wooden trivet Fin had put there. “Maybe next time you want my attention, you should try both,” I said sagely.

  Emerson was slightly flushed, his light green skin going a strange pink color at our teasing. Poor guy still hadn’t gotten used to all the shit Fin and I constantly talked. “Just this once, can we please eat without talking about dicks?” he pleaded.

  Fin climbed into his chair and grinned in that wicked lepr
echaun way—the way that said they’d find some way to twist all your words around to suit them. “Sure,” he said happily. Then he turned to me with a mischievous wink. “We’ll talk about boobs instead. I saw a shop down by my apartment yesterday. How do you feel about lace bras, Sam? Your tits would look amazing in a little bit of black lace.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Never going to happen, leprechaun.”

  He huffed. “I wish my luck magic worked on myself,” he said mournfully, reaching out to snag a piece of garlic bread.

  Emerson groaned. “Seriously?”

  I grinned at him, relenting and turning talk away from anatomy. “How is the project coming down there?” I gestured in the general direction of the garage space.

  Emerson’s face lit up at that, and he launched into a detailed explanation of the way he was trying to integrate magical components into an old pre-rift computer. He lost me after the first sentence or so, but he was so happy, I couldn’t look away as I dug into my food.

  “You can leave your stuff down there,” I said around a mouthful of pasta. “You don’t have to pack it all up every night.” I swallowed, sitting back and taking a deep breath. I could do this. It wasn’t a big deal. I hunted killer monsters for a living. How hard was mumbling a few little words? Why don’t you just stay here with me? How hard was that? My mouth opened and closed. Then I cleared my throat…and completely chickened out. “I don’t use that workbench much anyway.”

  I felt Fin’s eyes on me, but I refused to look at him. Emerson studied me for a minute, then shrugged. “Sure, if you don’t mind.” He looked like he wanted to say more but wisely kept his mouth closed. For once.

  We ate in silence after that, with only the constant chatter of the radio Emerson had fixed up for Fin breaking the quiet. Fin liked to cook, and he’d kind of unofficially taken over my kitchen. Emerson, being the sweet, sickeningly adorable oaf that he was, had fixed up an old radio for the leprechaun to listen to while he worked, and it actually managed to pick up the two local broadcasts that were available in Westhold. One was an official city station that played mostly classical music, news, and talk radio. The other was some funky old woman who collected an eclectic array of old music disks and made her own broadcast from a shack somewhere in town.

  The symphony that had been playing in the background trailed off and was replaced with local news. It was nothing new, but it set me on edge anyway. Things were getting tense in Westhold. The inauguration of the new sovereign was coming up next week, and half the town was in upheaval. I’d never seen so much fuss over a ruler before Theo. Humans ruled the gated towns that were bastions of safety in a world overrun by fiends. That meant everyone had to play by human rules. Curs were barely tolerated as second-class citizens. And full fiends weren’t allowed inside the city gates except for very rare exceptions. No one except the humans really cared which human was in charge. It was all the same to the rest of us.

  But Theo was stirring things up. Even someone as uninterested in politics as I was had heard the praise for our new ruler. And the complaints. Theo didn’t seem to think humans were better than curs. He wanted more equality—though he was being subtle and fairly quiet about it—and that was making everyone panic. No one liked change. And the last change that had occurred where curs and fiends were concerned was when the human world was overrun and almost completely destroyed. So…there was just a little bit of fear floating in the air.

  It wouldn’t surprise me if the stupid human millionaire got himself killed before he even took office.

  But none of that was my problem, I reminded myself firmly. I had washed my hands of the arrogant, stupid, naïve politician once and for all. It was better for my health that way.

  When someone on the radio started talking about how changes that would allow curs access to things like equal housing and the ability to frequent any establishment they liked would undermine the moral fiber of the city and the entire nation, I stood and switched it off.

  “Emerson says we need to pay more attention to you,” I told the leprechaun, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to keep my face serious. “How about we stop working in the garage for the day and spend the day in bed fucking and eating ice cream instead?”

  That got me a couple of stares. “So subtle and romantic, Saber,” Fin said with a shake of his head.

  Emerson ran a hand over his face. “You weren’t supposed to tell him I said that.”

  I shrugged. “So? Wanna fuck like rabbits and eat sugar until we pass out, or not?”

  Fin laughed. “Gods, I love you, Sam.”

  I looked at Em. “Was I supposed to do something else to make him feel wanted?”

  It was really hard to keep my innocent expression in place as the giant green man put his head in both his hands and closed his eyes like he really just wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. “Maybe a movie? A game? Like…date stuff? I don’t know, Sam! I didn’t mean you had to take him to bed.”

  Fin snorted a laugh. “No, no. I like Sam’s idea better. But one of you assholes is doing dishes first. I’m not your maid.”

  And just like that, I could so easily see it. How we’d all fit here. How they’d always be nearby. How easily we’d slide into roles—whose turn it was to cook or clean up. How all the little every day domestic things would be just that little bit warmer. And how I’d never have to be alone again. I swallowed hard against the urge to blurt out a plea that they never leave me.

  “Last one to the bedroom does dishes!” I said instead, dashing toward the door before Emerson could register what had just happened.

  “Damn it!” the sweet ogre muttered.

  Fin just laughed and stood, pausing to slap the taller guy on one massive, jeans-clad thigh. “Too slow, big guy. Hurry up and we might not finish before you.” His bawdy laughter filled the apartment as he left Emerson in the kitchen shaking his head.

  Chapter 2

  The next day, I made sure the chainsaw worked, then packed it up into the jeep to take it to Josie’s house. I was getting ready to leave when the wards and a polite tapping at the reinforced side door to the garage alerted me that I had a visitor. I let out a sigh. Unexpected guests never boded well. Fin and Emerson were both off doing their own thing today, and even if they came back early, both of them had keys and access. They wouldn’t be knocking.

  I glanced at the grainy old monitor above my workbench and groaned. There was a human woman on my stoop. A very cheery, very pregnant human woman who worked for the damned delusional new sovereign of Westhold. Fuck my life.

  I unlocked the door and yanked it open. “What?” I snapped, glaring at Ada and ignoring the burly human guard who had accompanied her to the door.

  Ada smiled at me, her bright blue eyes almost seeming to glow, the same way her stupid politician cousin’s did when he was all excited about something. “Hello to you too, Sam,” she said with a grin. “Nice to see you. Pleasant weather we’re having today, isn’t it?”

  She folded her hands over her bulging, floral-print-covered stomach and patiently waited for me to grow some manners.

  I sighed. “Hi. No, it’s not. And it’s hot as balls.”

  She lifted an eyebrow at me, still waiting.

  I rolled my eyes and put on a simpering face. “Hello, Ada, what a pleasant surprise. Welcome to my humble abode. Please come make yourself comfortable.” I gave her a sarcastic bow and a swept an arm back to invite her into the luxury of my garage, which was about as far from comfortable as it could get for a soft, pampered female in her condition.

  She nodded and stepped inside, satisfied that she had me doing what she wanted. Women. I couldn’t believe I was part girl myself. They were…strange creatures.

  “It really is good to see you again, Sam,” Ada said, plopping her balloon-like self on a stool and rummaging around in the stupidly large purse she carried over her shoulder. “Theo wanted to come himself, but with the upcoming inauguration and all, he’s been pretty busy.”

&
nbsp; She finally found what she wanted and came up for air, slightly flushed from the exertion of reaching around her belly while she balanced on the stool. She waved a folder at me. “Your viceroy contract!” Her nimble fingers made quick work of the bright red, silk-covered elastic that held the creamy folder shut. When she held the thing out to me, I just looked at her like she was offering me a poisonous snake.

  “Oh, come on, Sam,” Ada said, raising her eyebrows. “Theo said you’d be difficult about it, but I’ve had heartburn since three o’clock this morning, my feet are killing me, and there’s a baby rhino sitting on my bladder. Just take the damned papers!”

  I snorted, but relented and took the damned folder. Even the paper Theo used was prissy and indulgent. It was thick between my fingers, embossed with a family seal that looked like some sort of…peacock. The symbol certainly fit the arrogant asshole. The looping script on the document proclaimed it to be the formal agreement naming me viceroy to the sovereign of Westhold.

  I looked up, pinning Ada with a stare. “I never agreed to this. It’s completely stupid. I hate politics. I hate rich people. I hate humans…and I hate Theo. Besides, I couldn’t even tell you what a viceroy does.” I held the folder and papers out, urging her to take it back before I lost my temper and threw it at her.

  Ada just crossed her arms over her swollen belly and gave me that patient look. “Historically, the word just meant someone who had the authority to make decisions or act in the place of a king or ruler, like when there were colonies to be governed, those sorts of things. But it’s not quite the same now. Basically, you would be Theo’s right hand in certain matters—you would be part advisor, part weapon. If he asked you to take care of a problem, you would have full authority to handle it any way you saw fit, with the blessing of the sovereign.”

  I rolled my eyes and tossed the folder onto a nearby workbench. “I’m not Theo’s weapon. And my only advice for him is to fuck off.”