Not Quite Hunter Read online

  I could smell the river before we reached it, mulch and dampness, the rich smell of rotted leaves and water. I struggled, my gangly teenaged body twisting and heaving, my short fangs and useless claws coming out as I slashed, and bit, and kicked. I managed a few good blows. But it didn't matter. There were too many of them. And they were all full fiend shifters with strength I didn't have. Because I wasn't a whole person.

  The water was cold, and slippery mud clung to my body. It made it harder for them to hold me under. But they managed. My blood rushed in my ears, my claws shredded the forearm of the hand that held me down, the grip around my throat as choking as the water that begged to rush into my lungs.

  I struggled harder as my head pounded and my lungs burned, black starbursts starting round the edges of my vision. They held my arms down too now, and thrashing was only making my poor body beg for more oxygen to power my muscles.

  I tensed, then went limp, part of me accepting my fate. This was what you did with runty kittens, after all. You drowned them. Put them out of their misery.

  It seemed like the logical conclusion to the vicious dance I'd done with my fellow shifters since the day I was born. I'd been taunted, beaten, tormented until I got quick enough and mean enough to defend myself. But it was never going to be enough.

  I thrashed, feeling the water flood my lungs, my vision going black. The water had a song, and it lulled me under. But the pain never stopped. I was thrown into another scene from my childhood. One where I bled from a hundred little cuts, so the other shifters could see how slow I healed. To a time when they'd stripped me naked and gawked at my strange body, laughing as they tried to decide if they should test that out too.

  Everything was a test. A test of whether I'd survive for the next round of humiliation. I felt blood running over my hands, hot and slick, coating my forearm as I slid the knife deeper and watched life fade from my tormentor's wide eyes.

  Turns out, all it took was nearly killing one of them to get them to back off.

  But I was wrong. It only made them more careful about how they handled me. And now I would drown in the river like the unwanted runt I was.

  The water burned as it snuffed out my life. But it also sang to me and promised everything would be okay. It would all end if I'd just let the water in.

  Cold tingled over my body and I raged inside. The Sam in the present was furious I'd ever thought of lying there and giving up. The Sam in the past was too defeated to care.

  It repeated over and over. Rough hands. So much blood. Killing my own kind just to live. I shouldn't live. I never should have been born. But fuck if I wasn't going to fight for my life anyway!

  I woke to a feral, animal scream, slowly realizing the sound came from my own throat. I was shifted—as much as I could. And massive hands held me down. A huge weight pinned me to the bed, and I tasted blood on my tongue. I panicked, my head thrashing. Whose blood was filling my mouth? What had I done?

  "S'okay," a deep voice rumbled. "S'okay sweetheart. I got you. Fin's fine. Everyone's fine."

  I managed to stop my thrashing and growling long enough to meet a pair of pained red-brown eyes. "Emerson." I said his name out loud to ground myself. It was just a dream. None of that stuff before was real. Or at least, it wasn't real now. There was just Emerson pinning me down, and I was pretty sure it was for a whole different reason than the hands that held me down in my nightmares.

  "Yeah," the big guy said, his expression softening as he realized I was waking up. "It's me. You're okay."

  I turned my head. The curtain had been ripped from the ceiling, destroying the illusion of privacy. But no one else was there. "Fin," I panted.

  The metallic tang of blood in my mouth suddenly made my stomach twist with nausea. "Where's Fin?"

  Emerson let go of one of my hands to cup my jaw and turn my face toward him. "He's outside with everyone else. I made them go. He wanted to stay with you, but I knew you wouldn't want to hurt him."

  I shuddered, blinking to focus my night vision in the dim light of the camper. Something dark oozed from Emerson's shoulder. Blood. I let my head thump back on the pillow, all the breath leaving me. "I'm sorry."

  He just pushed the hair back from my face with a gentle touch. "Don't worry about it. I'm a big guy. I can take it."

  I huffed, but my mind chose that exact moment to remind me just how big Em was. And that he was basically using his body to pin me to the bed. Somehow, he wasn't crushing me. Suddenly, I had a whole new set of problems, as the blood rushed below my belt. Fuck me, I was a mess.

  Emerson pulled back a bit, releasing my other arm. His massive hips still pinned mine. "Are you okay now?" he breathed, his expression still concerned, but suddenly becoming shy.

  I nodded. "Let me the fuck up. I'm fine. It was just a little dream."

  He sat up, his head bent slightly to avoid the ceiling. My breath left me in a whoosh as he grabbed me and pulled me up with him, so I knelt between his legs, crushed to his chest in an awkward hug. I went rigid for a second, but he didn't let up, just squeezing me tight against his massive, muscular wall of a chest. Finally, I relaxed against him a little. "I'm sorry I scared you," I mumbled against the warm greenish skin of his right pec.

  He sighed and pulled back a little to look me in the eye. "You don't ever have to apologize for feeling, Sam."

  I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't feeling, Em. I just had a nightmare."

  He narrowed his eyes at me and put a big finger under my chin, tilting my head back, forcing me to look at him. "Nightmare? Or flashback?"

  I growled. "Doesn't matter. I'm a fucking mess and I'm sorry you had to see that. Had to deal with it." I snorted a bitter laugh. "Didn't I tell you? You're way too nice to hang around a nasty fucker like me."

  He froze for a minute. And I could tell he was making up his mind to say something I'd hate. I froze when his warm lips met mine, one big hand slipping into the back of my hair, cupping my entire skull to keep me from running away.

  He could crush my head like a juicy melon in his big hands. But he was gentler than anyone I'd ever known. My heart cracked open a little, still raw with the remembered desperation to live, to be accepted, to belong.

  Damned half-ogre and his stupid tenderness.

  He pulled back and I blinked at him, seeing myself reflected in his wide brown eyes. I couldn't. I just couldn't take the depth of honest emotion I saw in his face, felt in his touch. He wanted to love me. Protect me. Hold me in those big arms like some fainting female in a damned fairytale story.

  I slipped out of his grip and slithered off the bed, standing and grabbing my knives off the little recess where I stowed them while I slept. I could see a faint lightening of the horizon out the front windshield of the camper. Turning away from the regretful look on Em's stupid face, I kicked the side door of the camper open and glared at the ring of morons standing there in the growing dawn. "Well? What the fuck are you all doing out there? We're all awake now. Might as well make good use of our time. Get your asses in your seats."

  I spun and clambered up into the driver's seat. No one said anything, but they all slowly did as I said. Fin took shotgun, and no one tried to stop him. I carefully maneuvered the camper onto the sand, my eyes easily adjusting to the low light of predawn. Ahura loudly wrangled Emerson into a game of poker, while Theo grumbled something about sycophants who rose before the sun, curled up on the bench seat, and pulled an old blanket over his precious head as he went back to sleep.

  I felt Fin's sharp green eyes on me, and I snapped at him without looking away from the landscape ahead of us. "What?"

  He took a minute to answer, probably trying to find the balls to form the words. When he finally spoke, his low whisper wasn’t full of the pity I’d expected. It was laced with rage. "Why were you calling out for him in your nightmares, Saber?"

  I shot him a confused look. "Who?"

  He turned away, looking out his own window. "You know. The siren."

  My heart stuttered in my chest
for a few seconds before it resumed beating, hard and fast. I ground my teeth together and tried to get control of myself.

  That only gave Fin time to get even more pissed off. "Did he…what did that motherfucker do to you, Sam?" I could almost feel his anger like a physical thing, snarling and snapping in the air between us.

  "Nothing." I gave him a look meant to convey how stupid he was being. "I don't know what you're talking about. You must have been hearing things."

  He huffed and grumbled, but let it go.

  Thank fuck. Because there was no way I was telling Fin any of it. That shit was in the past. It could stay in the past.

  Even if the song in the water still seemed to be ringing in my ears.

  Chapter 6

  Golding was one of the bigger U.S. cities that had managed to pop up and thrive in the post-apocalypse state the country found itself in after the rift opened and the world was swarmed with monsters and magic. It was closer to the sea, which was good for its economy—even if being that close to open water came with the risk of sea monsters and magic-fueled storms. The ruler of Golding was a human whose family had roots in carpet bagging and profiteering going way back to the American Civil War or earlier—and he'd put those skills to good use.

  Human rulers had worked together to make a network out of the cities they'd built up or managed to salvage since the rift, showing a staggering amount of tenacity, for beings who were so soft and weak. Human rulers were the strongest of them all, and they tended to come in two types. Many of the human sovereigns were from families that were used to ruling with money and power. They were the businesspeople, the billionaires of the world. But only a certain subset were successful post-rift—the ones ruthless enough or smart enough to adapt and hold onto their empires. Most of those types of rulers had a network of close advisors to do the actual hard work.

  The ruler of Golding was from the other subset of rulers. They were the stuff of human legends—cowboys, militia, presidents who could hunt bear and fight in their own wars. It remained to be seen what kind of leader Theo would be. If the idiot lived long enough. But the fact that he had been appointed by the people in Golding—people who backed a big, barrel-chested, shot-gun toting cowboy as their own leader—really said a lot about Theo's ability to win over the masses. Because nothing was as far from Golding's sovereign, General Braxton, than the average-looking human, in his somehow immaculately pressed suit.

  Theo stepped from the camper and pulled his suit jacket straight, running a hand through his carefully styled chestnut curls. Three days on the road, sleeping in a camper with a bunch of other people, and riding out a fiend attack, and the idiot still looked like he'd just left some meeting room where he bargained with big-wigs over matters of state.

  Disgusting.

  I slung the strap of my rifle across my back and walked beside him, my eyes scanning. It would be just my luck that I'd get the idiot all the way to Golding, only for him to be assassinated right here in the streets.

  We'd gotten the stink eye when we rolled through the city gates in my old RV. The looks had turned to complete confusion when Theo leaned across my lap from the passenger's side to hand the gate guard a packet of passport papers and his government ID. But they let us in.

  Getting into Golding was a much bigger deal than getting past the minimal security at the flimsy gates of Westhold. This city had actual walls all the way around, not the weird patch-job of fencing and crumbling stonework that surrounded my hometown. The walls in Golding were twenty-foot-high reinforced concrete with a layer of metal armor and electrified barbed wire on the tops. The whole thing reeked of magic, and I would bet good money the fortifications were warded from here to the moon. Impressive. And expensive.

  I glanced upward as we climbed a steep incline on a side street, headed for a small villa. Golding had things like villas. Perched high up on a hill a couple miles away, the Golding castle, also known as Fort Golding, was a shining white stone monument to human fortitude.

  This whole section of the city was…clean. It lacked the layer of gritty desperation I'd come to feel at home in. All the white stone and shiny shit was making me feel twitchy. Curs got arrested for loitering in districts like this.

  Theo caught my eye and winked. "Calm down, Sam. No one will harm us here."

  I arched a brow at him. "No one will harm you, maybe. But in case you haven't noticed, the rest of us aren't exactly human."

  He smirked at me with that secret smile that always made me want to get my knives out and start torturing him for information. Or try to beat sense into him. Either one. "Don't worry. We'll be in and out in the blink of an eye."

  I crossed my arms and waited as he rang the doorbell, the others grouped around us. Ahura was on Theo’s other side, her eerie red eyes scanning the street and the house for threats. At least I wasn't the only one with their guard up. She put a hand on the hilt of the curved blade that hung at her waist, pausing to purse her full lips at me and give me a wink.

  I rolled my eyes. I didn't doubt she could handle anything that came her way. But I really wasn't in the mood for her flirting.

  I wanted to go home and get away from people. This stupid job needed to just hurry up and be done with.

  The door opened, and I watched in surprise as a flurry of lilac-clad female launched herself at Theo. My nose twitched at the scent of honeysuckle and roses. Theo lifted his cousin off her feet and held her close. Their hair color was similar. And they were both sort of average looking. Other than that, there wasn't much resemblance between the younger woman's soft face and Theo's chiseled features.

  A taller woman approached from behind, and her eyes darted from me to Ahura and back, sizing us up. This woman was all muscle. A bodyguard, probably. They were subtle, mostly hidden if you weren't looking for them, but I could see all the places she had weapons hidden on her body. I thought she might even have a blade secreted away in that tall blond ponytail.

  "Ada," Theo said fondly, addressing his cousin. "Are you ready to go? I'm afraid my escort is a little bit anxious to return to the amenities we've grown used to in the wastelands."

  The woman drew back, and I blinked at her. Turning to Theo, I ignored his cousin and her creepy bodyguard. Rage was rising up in my chest and he was looking like a perfect target right now. "She's pregnant," I hissed.

  Very pregnant. Like, looked like she was about to pop at any second pregnant.

  He arched a brown brow at me, his expression unconcerned. "Well, yes. Hence the need for additional security measures."

  I growled, getting up in his face. "You want me to drag a pregnant woman across the fucking wastelands? Are you stupid? Did you hit your head somewhere along the way and kill off the last remaining braincell in the that tiny human skull of yours?" And all of this just for his stupid coronation or whatever. Fuck, rich people were morons.

  He gave me a bland look, but his eyes flashed. "I knew you'd be like this if I told you up front. But we're here now. So suck it up and make the best of it, Sam."

  I gave serious thought to just wrapping my hands around his throat and choking the life out of him right then and there. It would make my life easier right now.

  "You sure you want to go rambling through the dessert like that?" Fin said, shoving between me and the stupid human politician to get to the pregnant lady.

  She was silently laughing at something as she watched me and Theo square off. Her eyes lit on Fin and she grinned. "Oh, do I get a say in this conversation?"

  Fin chuckled and held out a hand. "Fin. I'm the guild master. Sorry my team members are so rude."

  She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Oh, I understand. I have this cousin who thinks he rules the world. You kind of just get used to it."

  "Is that what we're driving?" the bodyguard woman said, hefting a large suitcase in each hand and slanting a look at my baby.

  I turned to her and arched a brow. "No. That's what I'm driving." I hitched a thumb at Theo. "Asshole here just paid me to
pick up a hitchhiker."

  Ada put a hand on my arm, startling me out of my staring contest with her bodyguard. "You must be Sam. I've heard so much about you!"

  I stared at her in surprise as she continued to babble, linking an arm through mine and pressing my arm to her bulging stomach in the process. "If Theo trusts you to take care of us, then I trust you too."

  Ada slanted a look at Theo, who was watching the bodyguard chick with narrowed eyes while she lashed the suitcases to the luggage rack on the camper with Emerson's help. "Do you hear that, cousin?" Ada called in a sweet voice. "I trust Sam because you trust Sam. I'd never dream of spurning someone you care about."

  I barked a laugh at that. If she thought she was going to use me to play some game with Theo, she was dead wrong. "He doesn't care about me. I'm a rented weapon. Get your pregnant ass in the camper. We need to hurry before you pop out a crotch goblin on the way." I wrinkled my nose. "I am not birthing babies."

  She just grinned up at me, her eyes intently scanning my face as if she was reading me like a book. "You're delightful."

  Theo laughed and pulled his cousin away toward the camper. "You're right, Sam," he said evenly. "I would hate for someone as squeamish as you to have to witness the miracle of birth. Gods forbid. You might faint."

  I laughed darkly. "You're so going 'missing' on our way back home."

  Honestly, I was a little surprised that Theo and his cousin didn't try to drag things out more. I expected to have to prod them into moving, maybe put the kibosh on the idea of spending a night here in this pretty city with its clean beds and warm food.

  But neither of them seemed inclined to linger. It made me wonder what was going on under the surface that I wasn't aware of. Somehow, this felt more like a quick snatch and dash than a friendly escort.

  "You good to go?" I asked the human politician as I prepared to head back out of town. "You don't need to, I don't know, check in at politician headquarters or something? Meet with your backers? Kiss some babies, or kiss some asses or something?"