Blood of a Huntsman: After Darkness Falls Book Two

by Sage, May

  The Traitress

  The whisper had been clear in the night. So very clear. Bash felt like Catherine had been saying his name right against his ear. Her deep accent, rolling each syllable around her tongue, was unmistakable.

  It was a dream. Just a dream. There was nothing peculiar about a man dreaming about a sexy woman's voice. Particularly a few weeks after kissing said woman.

  But he heard something unsettling in that voice. Something that bothered him. He couldn’t place his finger on what, but he was uneasy.

  Cat had said his name a handful of times, perhaps, but it never sounded like this. Almost a plea.

  Just a fantasy, he reasoned. Nothing more.

  Bash had half an hour until his shift southwest of the territory. He was almost done tidying up his last bullet point on his report when he felt the change in the air. The damn ground shook underneath the dorm. But it was more than that. A force was exploding. Shattering.

  Next, he saw a flash of light through the dark skies and thunder resounded in the distance.

  He was out of the dorm before his next heartbeat, and halfway up the hill within ten seconds.

  The lightning had hit the second house on the hill, destroying part of the roof.

  Bash rushed to the front door moments before two women burst out of a window. Cat first, kicked back under Anika’s heel.

  Anika's right side was scorched, her skin burned black and her clothes in rags.

  What the hell?

  Bash rushed to Cat's side, helping her up to her feet.

  "Are you all right?"

  Moments later, he felt Levi and Chloe approach. Then Mikar, and Alexius. The uproar had caught everyone's attention.

  "I caught her writing to her stinking family," Anika screeched, pointing to the large bird of prey flying away from the house.

  Bash felt Cat freeze completely. She wasn't even breathing. Her eyes were the picture of shock. And fear.

  "She's betraying us. Sending them secrets by air so they can't be intercepted. When I confronted her, she attacked me."

  Levi took one step forward, until he'd reached Bash and Cat, his gaze cold.

  Bash didn't even think. He placed himself between her and the two-thousand-year-old monster. The predator who could kill him without breaking a sweat.

  Levi watched Cat without a word. Bash glared at him.

  "Mikar. Ruby," the ancient called.

  Ruby. He'd heard that name before; Levi and his employees mentioned her occasionally. One of Levi's slayers who worked around the territory. She wasn't very social, though.

  But now that he'd called her, she appeared in the distance, like she'd been standing close by all along.

  Ruby had dark hair, light brown skin, and was dressed in ancient white rags. She looked like a ghost. If ghosts could drink the blood of their enemy and bathe in mud.

  Bash stilled himself, ready to fight against one, or both if necessary. They were not going to hurt Cat without hearing her out, dammit. And she wasn't in a condition to speak right now, that much was obvious. She smelled wrong. She looked weak.

  But when the slayers moved, they fell on Anika instead.

  Bash breathed out. Cat didn't. She was trembling, watching the whole thing with wide eyes, her breathing shallow, unfocused.

  Anika was one of the best fighters Bash had ever seen in action; there was a reason why she taught the immortals and huntsmen at the Institute. Though his attention mostly remained on Cat, Bash followed the scene from the corner of his eye.

  Anika had one knife in each fist, and she was ferocious with both, anticipating all of Mikar's moves. Mikar was just fast enough to avoid her deadly blades. Then Ruby joined the fray.

  She wasn't like Mikar, or Levi, or Jack—or any fighter Bash had ever seen. There was no grace, no elegance to her style.

  She was fast as the wind, light as a feather, and ferocious as any beast.

  Anika would have won against Mikar. Might have won against Ruby. She had no chance against both.

  Ruby didn't mind the knives. She didn't care about being kicked or punched or bitten. While Mikar kept Anika's blades occupied, Ruby went for the throat, planting her fangs deep inside Anika's neck and holding still. A warning. If Anika so much as moved, Bash knew the slayer would rip it open.

  "You're okay?" Levi asked Cat, softly.

  Cat wasn't moving or saying anything just now. Bash got it; she was in shock. He remembered his own sister after they'd been told about their parents.

  So he did the same thing he'd done with Emilia back then: wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close.

  She allowed it, for a moment.

  Then she pushed against him, shaking her head and closing her eyes.

  "What's wrong with her?" Chloe asked, rushing to Cat’s side.

  "I think she's in shock."

  "No—well, perhaps, but that's not the primary concern," Alexius said. "Her eyes are red, wide, and unfocused. Nightbane? Nod if that's the case."

  Cat bobbed her head once.

  "The—" she tried, then cleared her throat. "The letter."

  Bash looked up. Even in the darkness, he could see that a bird—an eagle?—was flying away.

  He frowned. For her to say that now, when every word was taxing, the message must be important. Crucial. Bash saw tears at the corners of her eyes.

  Dammit. What could he do? He’d never felt this hopeless.

  The wind picked up in the south, and loud, high-pitched screams came from the Institute. He glanced at the building and found it wrapped in darkness. Fast-moving darkness. Frowning and focusing on the shadows, he saw wings. Hundreds and hundreds of black wings.

  The ravens used as messengers in Oldcrest.

  All eyes went to Chloe, who was focusing on the eagle, her bright blue eyes narrowed in on her target.

  No one was surprised when she dissolved into mist a moment later, her body and soul syncing with her beasts. Her familiars.

  No raven could outrun a bird of prey, or would ever attack one. Right now, the ravens were Chloe Eirikrson.

  She flew through the sky as fast as any storm, and the next cry piercing the night belonged to the poor eagle.

  Bash winced on its behalf.

  The ravens returned to the hill in a cloud of shadow, and Chloe reappeared in front of them, holding the brown and white bird carefully but firmly.

  Cat almost collapsed against Bash. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as she stood.

  “There, there, beautiful thing,” Chloe murmured, her voice a soft caress so very soft.

  Her tone had changed, soft as silk, sweet as honeysuckle.

  Bash immediately felt like stepping closer, asking how he could be of assistance.

  Kneeling.

  Levi said Chloe was a whisper. He never understood what that meant, and the explanation hadn’t really helped.

  "Whispering is a very rare skill," Mikar had told him. "It's a form of mind control that can't be learned; you're either born with it or you aren't."

  Chloe hadn't liked that very much. "I control people? No way!"

  "It's part of who you are. Accept it so you can learn to control it. When you want something, you'll ask for it, but we won't be able to stop ourselves from obeying." The slayer had shrugged. "Well, I can resist it now. It won't affect Levi or other ancients either. But with each passing year, you're likely to get stronger."

  Bash was no ancient, and he could feel her influence, her power pouring over him like a comforting silk wrap. Even knowing what it was, he wanted to give in.

  Bash started to move, and felt Catherine shift against his torso, bracing herself to stand without his support.

  He snapped right out of it.

  Chloe removed the letter tied to the bird's leg, then opened it and read, "To D. Storm. Your youngest's loyalties are questionable. Send an extraction party immediately. A."

  She snorted and glared at Anika, who was still restrained by both slayers, before handing
the bird to Greer.

  “You lying piece of filth.”

  Alexius had stayed away until then, but now he approached Cat, taking her wrist to check her pulse.

  “Nightbane poisoning, I believe. Blood and rest," he prescribed. "You'll be fine after some sleep. Someone will have to cover your shift."

  "And mine," Bash added. "I'll look after her."

  Cat didn't protest, which attested to her state.

  "How—" Her voice sounded so fucking weak. She cleared her throat and tried again, looking up to Levi. "How did…know?"

  Then Bash understood her silence, as well as her shock.

  It wasn't just the nightbane. She hadn't expected them to trust her. Choose her over Anika.

  Bash felt unreasonably angry.

  Levi snorted, as though the question amused him.

  "Because whoever you were before Oldcrest, whatever you've done, you want to belong here."

  Needs

  Cat closed her eyes, feeling more exhausted by the second now that she felt like it was safe to rest.

  Chloe got the letter. It hadn't reached Drusilla. She was going to be okay.

  After one or two years of sleep.

  "Are you sure she's all right?" Chloe demanded.

  Cat forced a smile that didn't reassure anyone, given their expressions. She held her thumb up. "I'm peachy," she promised. "I just need to rest my head."

  Then she realized she didn't have a year at all. She could only afford a nap at most. Then, she would have to speak to them.

  There were Stormhale secrets that she could no longer afford to keep. Not now. Anika had been plotting with her family, sure, but who else? Drusilla might still get a note about her by the end of the day despite Chloe stopping this one.

  Which meant that protecting Oldcrest wasn't just about her friends, or a matter of right and wrong. It was about survival.

  "Come on, let's go."

  She didn't protest, letting Sebastian lead her down the hill toward the dorms. As they passed Billevern's barrier, the troll growled low.

  "What's wrong with her?" he asked, somewhat threateningly.

  Sebastian was wise enough to reply promptly. Angering a troll was nothing short of suicidal.

  "She was drugged. Alexius says she needs rest and blood, that's all."

  The troll nodded before glaring down at her. "You get better, understood?"

  She laughed, even though it hurt her lungs and abs.

  "I'll try, Billevern."

  "It's Bill. And boy, moving's hurting her. Help the girl, you idiot."

  He laughed. "Well, we'd better listen to Bill. Arms around my neck, okay?"

  Cat grimaced but did as she was told, if only because this was the first time the troll had given her the time of day. She didn't want him to be pissed at her.

  Sebastian carried her like a princess.

  Oh.

  That was kind of nice. And she liked his smell.

  No, she adored his smell. It was like chocolate and spice mixed with rum and sprinkled with strawberry.

  Cat bit down on her lip. Shit, Alexius hadn't been kidding. She seriously needed blood, right now, before she sank her teeth right inside his neck.

  That wasn't unusual between vampires. Intense, intimate? Yes. But not unusual. Cat had never done it, but she knew that lovers, mates, husbands and wives exchanged blood. Craving vampire blood was different, though—the sort of thing that only happened to ferals. Or Eirikrsons.

  She looked down to her lap. She had no business wanting to drink from Sebastian, regardless of how good he smelled or how weak she felt.

  "You can let me down now," she said when they approached the dorm.

  Sebastian snorted.

  "Right. Do you know what Billevern would do to me if he hears that? Even Levi is careful with that man."

  She bit back a groan, then held her breath, keeping her gaze away from his neck. Bash's celerity was greatly appreciated. They were in front of her bedroom within seconds.

  "Keys?"

  "It's open," she replied.

  He pushed the handle down and whooshed past the door.

  Cat blushed. Shit. She hadn't expected company.

  Her room, here or in Rome, was her den, the one place where she could relax, chill out with music blasting in her ears without caring about what anyone thought of her.

  And it was chaos. But she could find any book in the stack on the floor. Sure, half of her wardrobe was piled up in the room rather than folded or hung, but the clothes on her armchair were dirty and those on her bench just had to be ironed. An organized mess, in short.

  A gentleman may have remained silent.

  "Jesus, did a tornado hit or something?"

  She wasn't strong enough to laugh, but she did manage to punch his shoulder. A pathetic hit.

  He gently put her down on her bed.

  "Blood?" he asked.

  She pointed to her fridge in the corner of the room.

  "There's a microwave…" A yawn interrupted her speech. "Somewhere."

  Her eyes closed, not opening again until dawn, though falling asleep took a moment.

  Long enough for her to wonder whether she'd ever slept with anyone quite so close. Even her brother. Even her sister.

  She must have been quite tired, because she faded out of consciousness without even thinking about telling Sebastian to leave.

  Cat was no stranger to pain, but she couldn't recall ever having a headache quite as acute, like someone had lit a fire at the base of her skull.

  That was nothing to the furnace burning her throat. Thirst like she'd never known. Thirst so strong she wanted to sink her teeth into the first thing, the first person, she could hunt down.

  Her eyes opened. She didn't need a mirror to know they were bright silver. The eyes of a hunter focusing on the thing right in front of her.

  A glass filled with blood.

  She moved faster than she ever had, knocked some of it onto her bed, and didn't care one bit. Her eyes closed as she gulped the blood down, moaning in relief.

  It tasted…wrong. Stale. Disgusting.

  Cat opened her eyes again and found Bash sitting on her office chair, which he'd dragged next to her bed.

  He had another glass at the ready.

  "I called Alexius when you crashed without drinking. He said you'd be parched when you woke up. I can relate."

  Cat gratefully took the second glass and downed it too, though a little slower this time. It still tasted rancid.

  Blood was like water to her. Tasteless, simple. Necessary. She didn't like or dislike it, she just…needed it to survive. Her palate wasn't so refined as to prefer one blood type over another. They were all the same, a liquid she couldn't survive without.

  Right now, everything she knew was flipped on its head. And she realized what an ass she'd been.

  Her eyes cut to Sebastian. He still smelled so very good. As tempting as an apple pie right out of the oven.

  "Sorry. I was a bitch," she said with a wince.

  "On which occasion?" Sebastian asked.

  Cat snorted, or laughed; she couldn't quite tell.

  "When I implied you were weak. For needing blood the way you do," she added.

  She'd believed that since she was a newborn, turned only twelve months ago, she could remember what he was going through quite clearly. But if tonight was any indication, she had no idea. And no wonder.

  All her life, she'd known she would eventually turn into a vampire. And she'd been told what to expect, and trained to control her thirst. The conditioning had started early. When she'd been thirsty as a child, she'd had to wait an hour before being given a drop of water. In her teens, she'd fasted for days on end, all the while sparring. Assuming that she could understand what someone like Bash felt upon turning had been self-centered as hell.

  This was her first time experiencing bloodlust in twelve months. And she wasn't dealing with it well.

  The Challenge

  Something was wrong with C
atherine, and Bash fucking hated it.

  He wanted to ask, but knew she'd just tell him to bugger off.

  "You had a point, by the way,” he said, mostly to distract her. "What you said worked. My thirst is getting better with some exposure to human scent. I was avoiding the issue."

  "Sure, but if your thirst is anything like this, I get why you'd want to."

  Ah. She was desperate for blood. He certainly could relate to that.

  "More blood?"

  She'd just finished her second glass, but she shut her eyes and shook her head.

  "No, this isn't helping. It tastes awful, and isn't even taking the edge off." She sighed. "I just need to keep it under control."

  Bash watched her with rapture, impressed and frustrated all at once.

  He'd been trained as a fucking warrior and couldn't handle the thirst. Here she was, just wishing it away.

  "Have you ever drunk from someone's vein?" Bash found himself asking.

  Her eyes flew open.

  She looked a lot better than she had four hours ago when she'd fallen asleep. But her eyes were still silver, not their usual blue.

  "Of course not."

  "I have. I think that's one of the reasons why I'm like this. Unsatisfied." He paused. "Chloe fed me from her wrist that day, after I'd been bitten. She had to, to save me. But the bags of blood I drink—they're nothing compared to the real thing. If you haven't tried that, well, there's no way you'd know."

  Plus, there was the fact that he'd been bitten by a feral, not a regular vampire.

  "Ignorance doesn't excuse cruelty," Catherine retorted. "At least it shouldn't. Just take my apology and let's call it a night."

  He laughed. "All right. Apology accepted. Now, how do you feel?"

  "Okay," she replied. "I have my strength back. The thirst will go, in due time." She winced, admitting, “And it would help if I didn’t have anyone with fresh blood around me right now.”

  He certainly understood that.

  Bash nodded. "All right. Then I'll go back to work."

  It was only one in the morning; he could still replace whoever had covered his shift.

  "Sure thing. I'll see you tonight."

  Leaving wasn't easy. He didn't like closing the door behind him. Her scent had been all around the room, and he'd loved every bit of it. The fresh air was so very boring to him, without the hints of vanilla and seaside.