Hunter, page 5
part #1 of Hunted Shifters Legacy Series
“Not exactly partner, but we’re allies. I’m Levi, your guard for the time being. I’m also your doctor.”
She blinked a few times in confusion. “You’re a doctor?”
“Well, not really. But I’m competent enough to deliver your baby and get you through a week’s worth of sleeping.”
Alarm punched her hard, any embarrassment of this man seeing her at her most vulnerable not present at all. “A week?”
“Yes. Don’t worry about it. We’ve fed her, and I’ve mixed the formula milk with some earthly blends to make her transition to your breastmilk smooth, without any problems. She has no name, though.”
“Do you already have a name for her?” Max asked softly, eyeing the baby's tiny toes in fascination.
The baby yawned, then sucked harder on her milk. Something in Celine’s heart shifted, as one thing became clear in her body and soul: that she would love this child with everything she had.
That she would protect her.
“I don’t know. Maybe you can help me choose a name, Max,” she replied just as softly. Max was surprised then broke into a smile. She turned to Levi. “You didn’t feed her blood or raw meat, did you?”
Levi’s mouth quirked, though he still remained painfully polite. “Of course not. We’re not barbarians.”
The way this man talked indicated he knew what he was talking about. This big, broad man was a healer, possibly a shifter, too...and someone Max was comfortable with, based on the boy’s body language. Celine gawked, trying to wrap her mind around too many facts at once. Before she could sort it out, he spoke again.
“Are you well enough to stand up?”
“Why?”
The response was one she wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with yet.
“Our boss wants to have dinner with you, so you can discuss things. And I highly advise you not to bring your baby to this event.”
* * *
It took her an excruciating hour of deliberation as she dressed, worked out the kinks in her post baby body, and finally decided that Levi was right: her baby was probably safer in this bedroom than anywhere else. If anything, Max’s last words had decided that, too.
They cared for you when you were asleep. The baby, too. I saw both with my own eyes. They spared me, too. Why would they try to kill any of us now?
Maybe because they were leverage. Maybe because something was still needed from them, particularly her.
When Celine finished dressing, she knew she looked as best as she could manage: still pale, still a bit weak, but shoulders straight enough to carry her weight. She eyed Max, who was randomly spouting off names and cajoling her daughter to make a sound if she liked it.
Then she followed Levi out of the bedroom, where she found herself treated to the sight of a mansion with the same concept as everything she’d seen so far: elegant, well-kept, but in need of improvements. Renovations, perhaps.
The bedroom to the dining room wasn’t such a far distance, and soon she was walking towards a rectangular table of oak and glass paneling. There was food heaped on it, wafting to her nostrils and making her mouth water, but she ignored that and focused on the man sitting at the end.
If Hunter and Levi were handsome, they were nothing compared to this man. He wasn’t as broad in the shoulders, but one look had her seeing the powerful shift of muscles under the clothes.
And what a fantastic set of clothes they were.
Fitted slacks, a black coat that doubled as an Americana. Gold cuff links. He was olive-skinned, with black hair perfectly styled to suit a face sculpted by Greek gods. It wasn’t even an exaggeration, the chiseled perfection mesmerizing Celine.
Then she caught herself—reminded herself that this clearly was the leader and the one who ordered her to be kidnapped. Levi ushered her to the seat beside the man, which wasn’t as far as she would’ve preferred. She kept that thought to herself and faced him squarely, part of her registering that Levi had excused himself instantly, closing the door behind him.
They were alone now.
Somehow, being alone with this man made her feel more uncomfortable than being alone with the other two men did.
“Good evening, Miss Peach. Please, have some dinner. I’ve been very worried about your health. We will speak when you’re ready.”
Ah, so they were doing the pleasantries first. She took note of his crisp British accent, almost refusing. But she clamped her mouth shut when her stomach grumbled. Before that embarrassment could smack her in the face, Celine nodded her head and reluctantly partook in dinner servings.
Reluctance turned to eagerness when the first taste of pork hit her tongue, soft and filled with roasted flavor. She ate in big bites, finishing what she could quietly before she moved to the roasted potatoes, then the pecan pie. No use wasting any of this, since it served as fuel for her.
Beside her, the man ate in smaller portions, though in no less than huge amounts, too. Everything he did was punctuated with elegance. Perhaps this was deliberate, too, allowing her a small grace of silence so she could gather her energy, gather herself. When she was ready, she drank some water, then faced him.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
“Lord Edmund Masters,” he replied without missing a beat. “Lord of this manor, head of this clan.”
“Are we in England or something?”
That got a small smile, which only served to emphasize this man’s astounding good looks.
“No, we’re still in New York. Sort of. I’ll explain all that later, as I have a feeling you don’t know much about…our world. May I call you Celine?”
“You may. I don’t know anything.”
“Right. Which is why it’s time for me to tell you why you’re here.”
Anticipation and nerves melded together, but she resisted the urge to lean forward and eyed him calmly. “Then tell me, Lord Masters.”
“I assume you don’t recall anything about how you procreated.”
Well.
“I know how I had sex,” she mused, biting back the sarcasm.
“And the guy?”
“Fine, I don’t remember him.” She shrugged. “It was a drunken moment, the first time I’d been drunk in a long time. I met him at a club, and I never saw him again.”
“Well, I traced it for you, and while I don’t know him, I do know what that club is.” It was Edmund who leaned forward—a slight movement, but one that made her nervous. Suddenly she was all too aware of him, all too aware of the power braced under the pleasant façade.
This man could kill her in a snap.
“And what kind of club is it?”
“It’s a club for humans, of course, but mostly frequented by nightwalkers.”
“Nightwalkers?”
“The opposite of the daywalkers you've just been acquainted with recently. Nightwalkers can’t be out during the day at all, and some clans' specialty is seducing ladies at night…using their glamour, to either toy with or drain the blood of.”
Her mind processed this, then rejected it viciously. “I wasn’t glamoured.”
“Do you remember anything about him, then? Face? Name? Physical description?”
An image flared, gone too quickly. Blurry, like her brain refused to remember. Stunned, Celine’s hand tightened on the water glass.
“If I was glamoured, then why wasn’t I drained of blood?”
“Maybe some other morsel interested him,” Edmund mused. “You were discarded, Celine, which is common. What isn’t is your state now.”
Dread slithered in, the answer already lurking at the corners of her mind. “My state?”
“No record in history has ever shown that vampires have impregnated someone they had sex with—and we have a library full of records that date back thousands of years.”
His tone was still cool, still calm. But she sensed the edge, knew there were undertones there.
“I’m the first, then.”
“It would appear so.”
Silence.
“Is that what those…daywalkers wanted with me? My baby? Are they working with the nightwalkers?”
A chuckle trickled out of Edmund’s throat, the sound overly pleasant and making her squirm in her seat. She covered it with another sip of water.
“No, no, dear. That’s a common misconception. Those vampires will kill each other on sight, just like they would shifters. No one is loyal to anyone else, unless they’re from the same clan. And that doesn’t even apply to everyone, because I know of some clans who still kill off their members.” A pause. “Vampires and shifters right now want you for two purposes: either to experiment on you and find out what makes you ripe, or to kill you and not allow you to reproduce anymore.”
A chill went down her spine.
“What about you?”
“I’m a peaceful man, Celine, and I do things that would benefit my clan. I do my research, too. Keeping you protected here, where vampires can’t reach you and multiply, is highly beneficial to me. We’re a small clan, and we need all the advantage we can get. Them growing bigger is a disadvantage.”
“Can’t vampires multiply without me? The books I’ve read…”
Edmund smirked. “The books you’ve read are myth. Some clans can create new vampires, but the successful ones are rare—and they keep themselves very well hidden. Why do you think humans don’t know of our existence?”
Silence followed as he kept eating, and she studied him. The chill remained hovering, close to spreading over her body. She forced herself to put the multiple questions on the back burner and focus on what was important now.
“What if I say I don’t want to be here? And I return to my home, live a normal life away from this?”
“Your life stopped being normal when you became pregnant, Miss Peach.” The switch back to her last name was deliberately formal. “And to answer your question…” He took a sip of red wine, which he didn’t offer to her. Another deliberate move. “If you’d have returned to your place, there's no doubt that they would've reached you. And that would leave me no choice but to kill you and your baby.”
The chill in her spine positively turned to ice, and she began to feel lightheaded. Every word, no matter how charmingly said…he meant it.
“And if I stay?”
“You and your daughter will be treated with care, and with everything we can offer.”
So she had no choice.
Panic was an easy thing to succumb to, but Celine didn’t carry her kid inside her for nine months to give up this easily. It was that thought that had her looking Edmund in the eye, even while the contact made her feel sick.
She smiled.
“Alright, Lord Masters. You have yourself a deal. But I have one more request.”
“What is it?”
“Max is also safe. He’ll be taken care of, too, and unharmed. And aside from me, he’ll be my child’s sitter.”
“Alright.”
They wanted a peaceful agreement? She was going to be peaceful.
Until she found a way out of there.
Chapter 7
There were plenty of things to keep Hunter occupied for the whole week, even more so when it was reported that Celine was finally awake. They had things to do, missions to oversee—enemies to scout, though the latter was mostly kept on the down-low now that many were probably looking for her and knew his face.
Then it was reported that Edmund had gone into some kind of deal with her, and this time, Hunter could no longer keep his curiosity contained—not that he wasn’t before, considering her dilemma was the one thing that kept him awake at night. But he knew better than to get attached to missions, and this one wasn’t supposed to be any different.
She decided to stay here with her baby. Hasn’t your boy follower told you? It was her choice. And I’d like you to do me one favor.
Somehow, Hunter doubted it was completely her choice, considering he knew how his boss’s mind worked. But he kept any other questions in—for now—as he knocked on the bedroom door, the task like a dark cloud hanging over his head.
Three raps later, the door opened, and he was treated to the sight of a beautiful little child making spitting noises from her rosebud-shaped mouth. It was astonishing how she was such a spitting image of her mother in no less than…Jesus, had it been more than two weeks already?
As for the child’s mom, she looked healthier, happier…glowing, even, a sight that punched him just as much as her vulnerability. He took it in, the loose bun of red hair and the light green dress, probably purchased by Edmund for her. The bare feet, which had a tightness settling in his stomach. He silently reasoned it out as his relief from seeing her looking better.
Sparkling green eyes met his, right before they flickered in recognition. Her gaze turned wary and soft at the same time.
“Hey,” she said, glancing around. Clearing her throat. “I thought you were Max.”
“Max is off for some interrogation.”
“What? Why?”
“Standard protocol. He’s not from our clan, and we’re trying to check bits and pieces that he might not have told us…don’t worry,” he added when he saw her alarm. “Whatever you’re imagining in your head right now, that’s not the kind of interrogation happening.”
“Okay, good.” A pause. “Thank you. For saving me.”
“Hmm. Part of the job.”
“Except I heard your boss just wanted me alive, not necessarily uninjured. You made sure I was in good condition. Max, too.”
There was no missing the protectiveness in her tone, making him remember one thing that had been part of her deal with Edmund.
“You vouched for him,” he stated.
“Any problem with that?” she shot back, a challenge in her question. The softness had dimmed.
“There’s no problem at all. It makes it easier for us to keep an eye on him.”
Except there was a problem—Celine’s calm, which was a far cry from the Celine he’d first met. But then again, she hadn’t been a hysterical, crying mess, either.
He studied her, and she studied him back. Eventually, she sighed.
“Are we just gonna stand here and stare at each other all day? What do you want?”
“Edmund wants to speak with you. He said you won’t unless Max is here.”
“I won’t. Sidney’s very comfortable with Max, you see.”
Hunter’s gaze flew back towards the baby, who was nuzzling her mother’s chest. Sidney wasn’t the name he expected, but it sounded nice.
“Max will probably be occupied for the whole day, and Edmund said you’ve been asking about this for a while now. I’m standing in for Max.”
Her eyes widened, and he didn’t know if it was because of whatever information Edmund had or him standing in for Max.
“And Levi?” she finally asked.
“Levi’s busy, too. He has a task.”
Hunter was prepared for the outright refusal, maybe even an argument that he was the last person fit for the role. He was prepared to accept it, too, and to tell Edmund to get on with this thing called patience and wait until timing fell into place.
Suddenly arms were outstretched, right in his direction—then, a bundle was right there, warm and soft and…squirming.
Squirming hard.
In astonishment, Hunter peered down at the bundle. Soft green eyes peered back, but probably couldn’t even see him that well yet. A feeling crept inside him as the baby moved again, and he finally realized what it was.
Terror.
“What are you doing?” he blurted out.
“You said you’re filling in for Max.”
“Not to carry the baby. This isn’t…” He took a deep breath. “Celine, I meant to watch over the baby…Sidney...while she’s in bed.”
“She has a bassinet, but she prefers to be held. I wanted to see.”
Sidney was moving a lot, and heaven help him if that wasn’t the scariest thing: dropping a goddamn child and hurting it. Her. Completely out of his element, he fumbled—trying to find the balance between holding on too tight and too loose that the baby would fall. Sidney made a gurgling sound in her throat, then squirmed again…then, settled, yawning and blinking before she closed her eyes.
The terror subsided, but not by much. Hunter watched, fascinated, as the baby in his arms fell asleep without a care in the world.
“She…”
“Likes you,” Celine finished, wonder in her tone. “Did you know Levi can’t even hold her? She cries.”
“He’s a lucky bastard. I don’t know what to do with babies.”
“Don’t drop them.”
“Jesus.”
“I'm kidding. Alright,” she teased, her voice softening now. Whispered. Hunter looked up, just as she stepped forward and leaned over to place her lips on Sidney’s head. He caught a whiff of her hair, some faint, fruity scent that drifted in his senses.
Oranges.
Quietly, Celine took her child back in her arms, a protective but natural move. His stomach tightened again.
Maybe it was her scent that he was reacting to. Hell if he knew.
Both were inappropriate, either way. Hunter gritted his teeth and kept his distance—and stony silence—as she placed Sidney in the bassinet, then leaned down again to whisper something in the baby’s ear. When she straightened up, her gaze locked in on him, fearless and confident.
“If you harm a hair on her head, my deal with Edmund is off. And I’m going to kill you.”
She was half his size, and he could take her in a fight in a heartbeat. Hell, he could slice her up with a claw if he wanted. But he didn’t, and he knew she meant every word.
He meant his next words, too.
“My shield is hers, Celine. I said I won’t hurt you. That means her, too.”
Doubt filled her expression, masked quickly.
Instead of protesting, Celine nodded and left—and somehow, that made him breathe easier.
* * *
Two hours later, Hunter wasn’t breathing easier because of many things: Max and Celine not being back yet, for one, and the growing incompetence he was feeling when Sidney woke up and made noises. Not of pain, not of protest, but of…something.
