Night Hunter

by Cathy McDavid

"He had to be convincing in order to fool Cadamus."

  "You didn't see him." Though the room was warm, she rubbed her arms as if chilled. "It was like looking at a stranger." Certainly not the man she'd made passionate love with all week. "What if Cadamus hadn't dropped Stevie? What would Nick have done?"

  "Turned the boy over to the authorities." Charlie

  leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. "Nick's no murderer."

  "I never said he was."

  "But you had your doubts."

  "For a moment, back in that alley, I did think Nick might do something drastic." She shivered slightly. "Something he would have regretted for the rest of his life."

  "No. Not possible."

  "Why? Because a Huntsman doesn't have any regrets?"

  "Oh, we have regrets. Lots of them. Rest assured." Charlie turned his head toward her and exhaled deeply. "Do you think Nick wanted to let go of you in that crawl space? Of course he didn't. But he needed his hands to fight the female creature. If he'd kept holding on to you, both of you could have died."

  "I understand that."

  And she did. The logical half of her, leastwise. The purely emotional half still remembered those few seconds of absolute terror before she smashed into the table in the church basement, and the sense of betrayal she'd felt that Nick had broken his promise.

  "It was the same with the boy in the alley," Charlie said. "Nick gambled on the boy being important to Cadamus and that if he threatened the boy, Cadamus would relinquish Stevie. He followed his instincts, and it paid off. Twice."

  "Things could have gone very differently."

  "But they didn't. You survived your fall relatively unscathed, and Stevie's safe."

  "You say that with such confidence."

  "Hardly. Being a Huntsman isn't easy. We have to make difficult decisions. Choose the lesser of two evils.

  It's part of the job and why the Ancients only select those individuals who are up to the task, able to carry the burdens of responsibility and guilt, of which there's much. And someone who believes unconditionally."

  "That's the hard part. The believing unconditionally. I'm not a person of strong faith. My life hasn't exactly encouraged it."

  "Are you sure? Something enabled that little girl who lost both her parents and spent years knocking around the foster care system to grow up into an intelligent, respected, successful college professor and author. Why not faith?"

  "Hatred is more accurate."

  "You're not a hateful person, Gillian. But you are committed to seeking justice for your family. So is Nick. And perhaps Stevie."

  "She's so young. If she is communing with the Ancients-and I'm not a hundred percent sure I buy that-how can she possibly answer a calling that will change the entire course of her life?"

  "You met Father Juan tonight." Charlie sat up straight and rubbed his elbow as if the joint ached.

  "Yes."

  "What did you think of him?"

  "I liked him."

  "Would you consider him a man of faith?"

  "Very much so."

  "If you were to ask him how old he was when God called him to serve, he would tell you he was thirteen. It was Easter Sunday, and he was walking down the center aisle of church toward the altar to receive communion. That was forty years ago, and he's not once wavered in his conviction. Nick was nine years old when the Ancients called him. I was ten. You were

  seven when you decided what you wanted to do with the rest of your life."

  "You're wrong. I didn't choose to make psychology a career until my junior year at college."

  "I'm talking about freeing your father from prison."

  "Yes, but-"

  "Is that any less of a calling than Father Juan's or Nick's?"

  "I wouldn't label seeking justice a calling." "Would you label revenge?"

  "Hardly."

  "And yet, those two drives motivate every Huntsman to accept the calling."

  Gillian opened her mouth to respond only to shut it. "You have quite a way with explanations. Maybe I should let you teach my classes one day next semester."

  He grinned, and the wrinkles in his face deepened. "I'd be delighted."

  Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. His eyes brightened. "What was that for?" "Trying to make me feel better."

  "Did I?"

  "You gave me some things to think about."

  Stevie stirred, diverting Gillian's attention from Charlie.

  "She's waking up," he said.

  Leaning forward, Gillian put a reassuring hand on the girl's arm. Visiting the Ancients or just unconscious, she was bound to be disoriented when she came to. And frightened.

  Her head rolled from side to side and her lips moved, but only unintelligible murmurings came out.

  "You're all right, Stevie, honey. Everything's fine."

  Gillian bent closer, then jerked back suddenly when Stevie's eyelids snapped open.

  She took one look at Gillian, one at Charlie, then said, "Where's Nick?" in a voice calm and strong and not a bit like that of a child.

  Gillian knew then with a faith she hadn't possessed minutes ago that she was staring into the face of the next Huntsman.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Nick sat bolt upright, instantly awake. The site plans of the ExhibitionCenter he'd been studying before nodding off went flying onto the floor.

  Gillian stood before him, solemn. "Stevie's awake. She's asking for you."

  "Okay." He blinked the sleep from his eyes and pushed a hand through his rumpled hair. "How are you doing?"

  "I'm fine."

  "Sore?"

  "Some."

  "Gillian." He stood, thought about reaching for her, then hesitated. "I know you'd rather I turned Stevie over to the authorities-"

  "No, it's okay. I've changed my mind." "You did?"

  "Yes."

  "Did something happen while I was asleep?" He narrowed his gaze at her.

  "I met your successor."

  "I see."

  "She's rather persuasive."

  He smiled. "She must be, if she was able to change your mind."

  "She wasn't the only one. Charlie can also make a solid case when he wants."

  This time, he didn't hesitate reaching for her. To his enormous relief, she came willingly into his arms. He kissed her hair, her temple, her forehead. "I'm sorry I dropped you when we were in the air ducts, and I hate like hell that you're mad at me."

  "I'm not mad."

  "You were," he said.

  "A little." She exhaled softly and rested her cheek on his chest. "But no more."

  "Those must have been some interesting conversations you had with Charlie and Stevie."

  "Come meet her. You'll like her." Gillian extracted herself from Nick's embrace and took his hand, her face alight with anticipation. "She reminds me of you. Or what you were probably like when you were her age."

  "Agreeable and well behaved?"

  "Headstrong, single-minded, and prone to mischief."

  "Sounds like Charlie's been telling tales on me again."

  They went through the door into the spare bedroom. Nick let Gillian lead him, preferring to lag behind. He'd accepted his role as future father for many years, but now that the moment was upon him, he was admittedly nervous. Being a Huntsman, saving mankind from obliteration, paled in comparison to the challenges of being a new parent.

  How had Jonathan felt the first time he'd seen Nick? Or Charlie, who'd raised two children, the second one unplanned?

  Nick remembered his initial meeting with Jonathan and, a week later, with Charlie. He'd felt a whole lot more scared than Stevie looked.

  She peered around Charlie, who vacated his post by the bed to let Nick by. "Hi," she said, a tentative, hopeful smile on her face.

  "Hi." Nick approached slowly. "I'm Nick."

  "My name is Estabana Maria Carmella Rodriguez. Most people call me Stevie. I'm eight years old." Her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. "You wer
e probably hoping for a boy, but I promise I'll try harder than any stupid boy ever has and make you proud of me."

  Nick's heart melted, and his legs lost their strength. He sat in the chair Gillian pushed over to him.

  "You're wrong. I was hoping for a girl."

  "Really?"

  "There have only been a few Huntresses, but they were all great warriors."

  "Will you tell me about them someday?" "Most definitely."

  Her expression grew sorrowful. "The Ancients said my mother died."

  "I'm sorry, sweetie."

  Stevie nodded. "Your mom died, too?"

  "My mom and dad both. And my little sister." "That sucks."

  "It does."

  "I don't have any brothers or sisters. My dad left before I was born. I never met him."

  "That sucks, too."

  "So, you're gonna be kinda like my dad?"

  "Kind of. Except I won't ever leave." He tugged on one of her flyaway curls. "And I'll cry like a baby when you grow up and leave me."

  She gazed at him with huge, tearful eyes. "What's gonna happen to my mom now that she's dead?" "Do you have any family in Phoenix?" "No." She sniffed.

  "Then I'm not sure. But I'll find out for you."

  "She was born in El Paso, Texas. She took me there once to visit a couple years ago and meet my grandmother and cousins." Stevie's voice wavered. "I think she'd like to go back there if she could."

  "Charlie and I will make the arrangements." Nick didn't know how they'd manage, but they would. "Thank you." Stevie swallowed.

  Gillian was right. He liked his new daughter. They were going to get along just fine.

  "Are you tired?" he asked.

  "I'm kinda hungry. I didn't think I would be after . . . everything, but I am."

  "What's your favorite food?" "Pepperoni pizza."

  Nick grinned. "I think we can arrange that." "Cool."

  "Yeah, cool." Only Nick wasn't thinking about pizza when he said it.

  "You want a glass of wine or something before bed? Nick asked.

  "No, thanks."

  He and Gillian were cleaning up the kitchen after putting away the leftover pizza. He rather liked that after five straight nights of staying with him, she knew her way around every inch of his place. It implied she was comfortable there, maybe comfortable enough to move in with him.

  "It's really late. I have to go." She hung the dishtowel she'd been using on the oven door.

  "Go! Where? What are you talking about?" "Back to my place."

  "Why? You brought a change of clothes over. And a toothbrush."

  "Because I don't think I should stay tonight. Not with Stevie here. We want to set a good example for her."

  "She's asleep."

  "She'll wake up eventually."

  "So much for being comfortable," he grumbled. "What?"

  "Never mind."

  "And you two should have some alone time to get to know each other."

  Nick wanted some alone time all right. With Gillian. For a couple of hours, anyway. He grabbed his keys off the counter. "Come on. I'll drive you."

  "I can take a cab."

  "Forget it."

  "What about Stevie?"

  "Charlie's here. He can watch her for a while." "He's asleep on the couch."

  "He'll be here in case she wakes up." "I don't know. .."

  "Your place isn't far. If I need to, I can be back here in ten minutes."

  "Okay. I guess."

  "And you have the nerve to call me headstrong."

  Once they were in his car and on the road, Gillian asked, "What do you think that boy's relationship to Cadamus is?"

  "I've been wondering the same thing myself."

  "Do the alpha males typically have human Synsars?"

  "I'm not aware of it happening before. But this generation of creatures seems to have evolved more significantly than previous ones. Especially the females."

  "What would their evolution have to do with a human Synsar? A child at that?"

  "The only explanation I can come up with is that the Ancients are evening the odds."

  "Evening the odds?" She knitted her brow.

  "The city's experienced some phenomenal growth in recent years, and the creatures have lost their natural territory. Advances in technology have also made it easier for us to hunt them. I'm guessing they're due for an edge. A human can act as Cadamus's eyes and ears during the daylight hours when he's confined to his sanctuary. Which could explain why the kid was spying on us."

  "But he's just a boy."

  "Kids are easily manipulated. Used to being told what to do. Not like adults, who are cynical and skeptical. Can you see a grown man willingly obeying Cadamus?"

  "Kids usually scare more easily than adults," she said. "But that boy wasn't afraid of Cadamus. And Cadamus, well, for lack of a better description, is

  fond of the boy. I watched them fly away. He held the boy in a protective, almost paternal embrace."

  "Spooky to think the creatures are capable of tender emotions and not just hate, anger, and revenge."

  "Very spooky."

  They drove the rest of the way to Gillian's condo in silence. When they arrived, Nick pulled around to the back of the building and the visitor parking spaces.

  "I thought we agreed you were dropping me off and going home."

  "No, we agreed I'd drive you home and that Charlie would watch Stevie while I was gone." Nick parked in an empty space and shut off the engine.

  "Your place is home with your new daughter."

  "My place is also with you." He reached over, cupped her cheek, and stroked her silky skin. "Just because Stevie's come into my life doesn't mean there's suddenly no room for you."

  "That's a really sweet thing to say but-" "Let me come up for while."

  "Another night would be better."

  "Stevie will still be at my place, and I might not have a babysitter."

  Gillian closed her eyes and groaned. "You're incorrigible."

  He leaned across the console and kissed her. "Admit it. You find my incorrigibility impossibly sexy."

  "True." Placing two fingers on his lips, she drew back. "But I'm strong enough to withstand temptation."

  "Prove it. Invite me up."

  "Nice try." She grabbed the passenger door handle and yanked. "But there's nothing you can do or say that will convince me to change my mind."

  "How about `I love you'?"

  She stopped with the door half open and one foot on the ground. "Okay. Maybe there is one thing you can say." Stepping out of the car, she ducked her head back inside and said, "Fine. You win. Come on up. But only to talk."

  "Don't count on it," he muttered under his breath.

  She did everything within her power to transmit don't-touch-me signals, from walking impossibly straight as if her vertebrae were welded together, to refusing to meet his gaze head on, to maintaining a safe distance between them at all times.

  Nick found her icy treatment of him a total turn-on.

  She lost some of her composure at her front door. While she fumbled with her numerous keys and locks, he pressed close to her back and tickled her hair and ear with his fingertips.

  "I won't crumble just because you're putting the moves on me. I can resist you and your juvenile attempts at seduction." She disengaged the last dead bolt and flung the door wide open.

  "Do I detect a challenge?"

  "Not at all," she said crisply and deactivated the alarm system. "I'm simply stating a fact.

  Nick shut the door behind him. "Then resist this."

  Grabbing her arm, he swung her around and trapped her against the door. Chest to breasts, hips to hips, thighs to thighs. She remained stiff as a board, but something flickered briefly in her green eyes. Nick pressed his advantage by lowering his head and capturing her lips in a mind-numbing, tongue-tangling, toe-curling kiss.

  "We're supposed to be talking," she said, forcing the words out between ragged breaths.

  "I like a w
oman who talks during sex. It gets me hard." He shoved his fingers under the hem of her shirt and around to her back where he deftly unhooked her bra. When her breasts were free, he cupped them in his hands. "Your turn. How do you feel about me?"

  "I care about you."

  He brushed her nipples with the pads of his thumbs. They instantly tightened to firm little buds beneath his touch. "I see that."

  "I think we have a solid beginning for a relationship, one on which we can build."

  "You have amazing breasts." He bent and took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard until she let out a soft moan.

  "We weren't discussing my breasts."

  "That's right." He straightened and reached for the waistband of her jeans and the single snap that separated him from paradise. "Let's see. Oh, yeah. Relationships. Ours. Solid foundation."

  The snap finally gave, and Nick ripped her zipper open with a thankful grunt. He dipped his hand inside her panties and between her legs. She was gloriously, satisfyingly wet. He went right to work and smiled to himself when she jerked and gasped with delight.

  "Don't equate normal human physiology, i.e., lust, with genuine emotion," she warned in a voice that sounded more like a kitten's purr than a tiger's snarl. ",just because I desire you doesn't mean I return your love or that I ever will."

  "Liar."

  He pushed her jeans and panties down over her hips, stopping to remove them and her sneakers.

  While he was down there, he decided to give her something else to think about regarding their relationship. He spent several minutes teasing her swollen clit with his tongue. For someone who refused to admit the full extent of her feeling for him, she certainly called out his name plenty of times.

  They'd spent enough nights together, and long, languid mornings, for Nick to be intimately acquainted with each and every nuance of Gillian's body. He knew all her most sensitive spots, how much pressure to apply, and what to do with his hands while his mouth made love to her. When he sensed her approaching orgasm, he abruptly stopped.

  She groaned in frustration. "So close."

  He parted her feminine folds with his thumbs and blew on her. "Talk dirty to me and maybe I'll finish the job."

  She shivered. "Fuck you."

  "That's a start." His cock swelled in response to her very un-Gillian use of foul language. "But I was thinking more like I'd fuck you.