Hunter, page 13
part #1 of Hunted Shifters Legacy Series
The crash in her ear promptly had her stilling—then, sitting up, her heart in her throat as it was followed by Hunter’s clear, tense-filled voice.
Run. Run fast!
More crashes, then glass shattering. Then, a crowd screaming and the sounds of punches being thrown. She heard Hunter grunt once, twice, heard the groan of pain vibrate in his throat. Every little sound threatened to make her heart leap from her chest, the role of helpless bystander driving her crazy with the need to do something.
Instead, she braced herself, fisting her hands on her bedsheets and waiting for something. Anything. The screams from the crowd died, faded off, and soon she heard Hunter talking again.
We ran into trouble. Can you confirm that our transportation has been untouched?
Silence, then Hunter cursed. Celine knew they had a point of contact outside the shelter, though she had no idea who.
Alright, alright. Bastards. I’ll look for Max first. Then we’ll escape on foot.
That meant either their transportation had indeed been tampered with, or he just didn’t want to risk it. He didn’t speak anymore, and she supposed he was walking around the neighborhood—maybe running—to look for Max.
Ten, maybe fifteen minutes later, Hunter spoke in a voice that had a chill running down her spine.
I’m going to kill every last one of you.
He didn’t talk again after, but there was no missing the grunts that indicated he was doing something very physical. The grunts changed into a growl, one filled with menace, and she gasped when several growls joined in the background. Now there were more crashes, slamming sounds…yelps of pain before things quieted down again.
When Hunter didn’t speak for the longest time, she very nearly lost her mind with worry. Then—
There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere.
The response was faint, but the voice was familiar. Relief poured out of Celine, one that took a pause when she heard the vulnerability in the response.
I was a pawn all along. A pawn to them. They were ready to kill me. They were ready…
A sob—hard, heart wrenching. Celine felt her tears flowing, too, as she heard the pain in the boy’s words and the desperation he felt. She wanted to hug him, wanted to take all his pain away.
Max…Max. Listen to me.
The sobbing didn’t stop, but it did slow down.
I’m a pawn to you, too, Hunter. That’s why I’m here.
Oh, Max.
Maybe you’re a pawn to Edmund, but you’re not a pawn to me. A pause. A sigh. You’re the boy I saved from the alley, and you became the annoying shifter who followed me after. Another pause. And I’m glad I took you in. I’m glad, because you’ll never be a pawn to me.
But…
No buts. None of this misery, do you hear me? Whatever they did, you’re above them. You’re one of us now, Max, and not because of conditions. You’re family. You and Celine and Sidney. To hell with everyone who opposes that.
Oh. Oh.
The sincerity in Hunter’s words hit Celine straight in the heart. He promised things: that he would keep Max safe, that this would be over…that no one was going to hurt the boy again. They were sincere, they were lovely…they made her feel them, too, and she couldn’t help it.
Whatever feelings she’d been keeping inside for Hunter burst forward, like a dam breaking. She placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart, tried to calm herself down. It worked, especially when she heard Max’s sobs dying down completely as he settled into calm.
Can you stand up? There was a small response, barely heard. Alright, great. Let’s get clothes first. Humans would have a heart attack seeing us running around like this.
Where are we going? Are we pushing on with the plan? I…I don’t mind.
Hunter’s response was simple and full of conviction.
No. We’re going home.
* * *
A few hours later, Levi came for the device as promised, and Celine decided to make use of the moment.
“Can I ask for an hour, Levi? Are you available to babysit Sidney?”
“Yeah. What are you up to?”
She smiled in response. “Just out to get some fresh air.”
“Alright. Be careful.” He smiled back. “Return in one piece, please.”
She hurried out to the back fields, dagger still with her. Outside, the night air did good for her system, calming down her heart and all the feelings it held. She sat, meditated, and stared at the blurry form of the castle.
She blinked when the image became clear.
Celine didn’t get to do much after as the castle blurred again—and something pulled her towards the barrier.
Chapter 17
“Are you tired? Do you want to rest for a bit?”
“No, I want to go home,” was the stubborn response from Max as he repeatedly fought off the blinking of his eyes.
“Alright.”
Fifteen minutes later, the boy swayed on his feet, the fatigue of the night finally getting to him. Not wanting to make a big deal out of it, Hunter quietly scooped him up and carried him, amused when Max made no protest and snuggled in instead. In the silence, Hunter recalled his earlier words. Had someone said he’d be caring for a boy in the near future, he’d have laughed in their faces and said he wasn’t responsible for anyone but himself.
Oh, what a clueless man he’d been.
A couple of minutes later, he was relieved to find the area that held another one of their many pocket entrances: this one at the back of a theater, which they rarely used and no one would suspect since most pocket entrances are in secluded places. He stepped inside the modern building, looked around to ensure they were alone. Then he slipped inside the restroom for the handicapped and proceeded to turn the faucet different ways, a complicated combination that he’d memorized. When he was done, nothing changed, but the quiet click was the indication he needed to jump into the right wall of tiles.
When he landed on the other side, he was still in the restroom, but a posher one now with pure marble tiles. Hunter smiled, glad that still worked. Then he pushed into the mansion’s hallway and went straight to Max’s bedroom, tucking the boy in. Max didn’t stir.
Satisfied despite the failed mission and tired as well, Hunter resisted the urge to check in on Celine, too, knowing the door was locked and she was probably fast asleep. Odd how he missed her when he was only gone for a short while, but that missing could wait. He was eager, not an idiot.
In fact, a report to Edmund would probably be the best thing to do right now, right before he hit the sack himself. The boss was probably still awake—and most likely waiting for results, which Hunter was going to provide: that the shifters had known Max would be allied with Hunter’s clan, and there was nothing to be done about that.
This was better than a bloodbath, when they were all in too deep in an agreement and ripe for betrayal.
If his boss wasn’t in, then a written report would do…
Thoughts halted when he saw a blur of movement ahead and realized it was Jessa. He whistled, and she halted and faced him.
Jessa paled, too, Hunter’s body tensed.
“What happened?”
“Back fields,” was all she snapped before she was running, and seconds later, he was following her.
Outside, a small crowd had gathered: Ovie, Leila, and now him and Jessa, facing a man who Hunter hadn’t seen in a long time. Malcolm Mulborough, one of the shifter guards in the clan, had been on a mission these last few months: some top-secret thing that Edmund had assigned to him and involved him crossing to the realm ahead. Spying, probably, or just gathering information for Edmund to harbor.
Malcolm looked pretty beat up, bruises all over his body and the air of…nastiness about him. Like he was ready to fight all of them. There was a bandage over his one eye, more bandages wrapped around his right hand. His beard looked pretty wild. Something vibrated in his gaze, a menace that had Hunter’s back going up.
This, however, was their friend, and Hunter wasn’t about to attack without cause. He took a step forward, not understanding what was happening but ready to alleviate the tension.
“Hey, Mal. What’s up? I haven’t heard…”
He stopped in his tracks, body going cold when he glanced at what had been hiding behind Malcolm’s broad back—what everyone had been crowding here for all along.
Celine, just at the border of the realm…no, not even. She was right in it, her arms spread out and her legs stuck like glue. The border shimmered all over, still intact except for that portion, and her body trembled with the contact. Her eyes were open, watching them gathering but mostly locking in on him. They held nerves, but every other emotion was hidden.
She was feeling something. The border was making her feel something, and she was hiding it.
Every protective instinct in him rang, and now he was stepping forward with a cold glare in Malcolm’s direction.
“What the hell happened?”
In response, Malcolm glared back. “I came back. I found an intruder.” He pointed at her accusingly. “I caught her.”
“I hate to say this, Malcolm,” Leila stated, sounding like she’d been woken up from a sleep and was very cranky about it. She’d probably been. “But she’s Edmund’s guest, and you’re not doing yourself a favor by doing this. Trust me; I tried to argue this case.”
“Not helping,” Jessa hissed, but didn’t glare at her. “Malcolm, she’s right.”
“Fine.”
“Let her go, Mal,” Ovie said, voice calmer than the two females. Neutral, even. “Let her go, and we’ll call this a night.”
“Can’t. You know how tricky these things are, and Edmund barely provided me with the necessities. I don’t see him around. I barely escaped with my life, and she was right there when I finally did. Border took her right in and released me.”
And every minute she was there, that part of the border would remain open—and anyone from the other end would have access to her back.
When Malcolm made a move to leave, Hunter stepped in and blocked his path. He met the other shifter’s gaze and held it, barely able to keep his control under wraps.
“Then do something about it. You know we can’t, but you can.”
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed. In the moonlight, they were golden and downright vicious. “Are you deaf or something? I already told you I can’t. Now get out of my way, Solis. I’m not in the mood.”
“Neither am I,” Hunter shot back. He grabbed hold of the other’s arm, ignoring Ovie’s warning call—
It happened too fast for anyone to react: Malcolm bursting into his animal form, that of a tiger whose black stripes were starker than most. The bruises looked harsher now, and the bandages fell off to reveal what he’d been hiding all along: his left eye gone, and most of his fingers on the right hand cut off.
Someone gasped. “Mal—”
“Stay back,” Leila warned, voice loud and clear now. The earlier irritation was gone as tension replaced it. “He’s not himself.”
And she was right, because Malcolm was usually better than this—short-tempered, but not like this. Something had happened in the other realm, turning him into this: a shifter who had no control over himself, full moon or no full moon.
And he was the closest one to Celine.
As if on cue, his beast form whirled around to face her, and large shoulders bunched for a leap. Hunter growled in loud warning before he was shifting, too, bones and muscles cracking at the quickness of it. He leaped a second before Malcolm did, stopping the swipe of claws at Celine before they were rolling and crashing to the ground.
A second or two later, Ovie was with them, bear form roaring and trying to get Malcolm off Hunter. But the tiger was too deep in his instincts, too lost in whatever had caused this wildness. He attacked the bear, swiped at whatever he could swipe with no reservations—with the intent to kill. Because Ovie and Hunter didn’t have the same violence consuming them, it wasn’t a fair fight, and they were soon overwhelmed by the need to defend themselves and keep Malcolm from destroying himself.
“Mal, you bastard, don’t do this to us!” Jessa hissed, staying at the corners. Her body was braced, but she didn’t shift yet, trying other tactics instead. She begged. She threatened. She yelled out loud, stomping her feet to get his attention and telling him she was going to kill him herself if he kept this up.
In response, the tiger roared back and sprinted towards her, fast and furious and all sorts of unstoppable.
Hunter managed to grab hold of the paws on time, while Ovie went for the torso. The tiger roared again, this time in pain, but struggled against them and bucked them off. It clawed at the bear, taking a chunk of fur and yanking. Ovie groaned in pain.
Jessa shouted in anger, arms bursting into claws and defending herself from the tiger’s next attack.
It occurred to Hunter that there were only three of them fighting when there had been four of them in the fields earlier. He looked around…found Leila poised at the back, the one closest to Celine now. Celine wasn’t looking at her but at the fight, worry brimming in her eyes, but she stopped when she saw where Hunter was looking. Eventually, she looked at Leila, too.
Leila was signaling something, and signaling it hard: arms wide in motion, with an urgency that snapped alarms at the nape of his neck. Comprehension dawned that she was trying to tell him something Malcolm shouldn’t hear, and she was becoming frantic about it. She pointed at Malcolm’s stomach, then at the border—then, nearly punched the border with her pointing, and he realized she was pointing at something behind it.
Hunter’s blood went cold when he saw it, too: a figure, something even bigger than any of their shifter forms, creeping just behind Celine. Spotting her.
Approaching her slowly.
More hand motions, and this time, Leila finally snapped.
“Stomach! Damn it!”
Malcolm heard it, and he whirled around to growl at Leila. Leila’s eyes narrowed as she stood her ground, but her claws were already out, too. The tiger scrambled towards her, ready to attack.
She bared her sharp teeth, then lifted her chin when Ovie clawed at the tiger’s sides and yanked Malcolm backward.
Hunter didn’t think, following instinct as he took the opportunity and rolled right with the fight. He rolled the tiger in the process until the beast’s back was on the ground and the belly was exposed. There, Hunter’s sharp wolf eyes found what Leila had been indicating all along: a satchel, one so small and colored the same as the tiger's fur. It was strapped tightly around the torso as if it was important to keep it from falling off.
Which meant it was important.
Hunter dove in, pressing his weight on top of the other. His claw dug in and yanked. The satchel tugged but didn’t loosen, and the tiger felt it and roared louder than ever. Malcolm tried to buck Hunter’s weight off, growing wilder and wilder by the second as he blindly punched the air. But he got nowhere fast as Ovie came again, pressing his weight on Malcolm’s other side.
Jessa was last, now in full fox form. She wasn’t as large as they were, but she was wily as she inserted herself in between their broad forms and sat right on Malcolm’s chest. Sharper claws, thin and curved, rested on the tiger’s throat, ready to rip through it if needed.
Yep, she looked downright pissed, too—and a pissed off Jessa was a dangerous one.
How they managed to know what he needed, he couldn’t tell, but it wasn’t like this was the first time. They all fell in sync as both pressed Malcolm down, and Hunter yanked again, then shimmied his claws under the strap. The tiger growled in protest, over and over, but the claw worked, snapping the strap off the torso. Hunter took it in his mouth, head snapping up to look in Leila’s direction again.
She was tenser than ever, ready for battle. Beside her, Celine had turned pale and grown very still…and behind her, the figure was closer and would be on her in a minute.
The growl was the only warning Hunter got from Ovie before the bear was thrown an inch or two backward. Not a lot, but it was enough. A second later, Jessa was hissing and whimpering, full weight thrown off. Fox crashed beside the tiger, whose jaws gaped open and took her from the back, taking hold. It worked. The fox was shook around, taken wildly in a lock hold as it struggled to get out. Jessa’s whimper turned into a groan, and Ovie’s attempts at getting close was punctuated with more shaking.
Damn it. If Malcolm didn’t stop, this would no longer be a defense but murder.
And he couldn’t just be on the defense anymore.
There was no time, two things pulling his attention at once. Hunter looked up, meeting Leila’s gaze. Quietly begging with his eyes, unsure of where this would lead. But there was no choice, no other option here.
He had to take this risk.
When Leila nodded, he forced his weight up and threw the satchel in her direction. She caught it with a snap, hurriedly tried to open it. Inside was a vial with something liquid, shimmering just like the border. He glanced at Celine, a desperate last look.
That was all Hunter had time for before Jessa screamed, and he was jumping back into the fight.
Chapter 18
Leila was not to be trusted.
That mantra repeated itself in Celine’s mind, stacking on top of what was already a messy swirl of emotions: strain at getting stuck here for the longest time, worry when it was beginning to hurt. Fear, when she saw the tiger getting even more violent and hurting everyone in its path.
But there was a more pressing issue here, and she began to realize it when Leila stopped looking at her and started looking at something behind her. There was no missing the tenseness in the woman’s body language as she caught the satchel Hunter had tossed at her, opening it with a frantic urgency.
She’d never seen Leila this tense, not even around her.
The glass vial was small, and what was inside was shimmering. Without pause, Leila uncorked it, eyes beyond the border and darkening rapidly. Those eyes moved, meeting Celine’s gaze. When she spoke, her tone was cool—but not as cool as usual, and Celine began to realize why.
