Hunter Deceived

by Nancy Corrigan

  Calan brushed his lips over his mate’s hair, then snuggled closer. They’d loved each other twice more before falling to the bed together in a tangled heap. Never had he indulged in such a profound moment with another woman. The embrace they shared had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with intimacy—an emotional closeness he hadn’t known was possible. Certainly, he’d heard accounts from mated couples about the deep bond formed. All had failed to mention the peace it would bring him.

  Harley’s touch, her scent and her presence acted as a balm to his bleeding soul. For a thousand years, he’d cried for his siblings and the humans. Not literally, of course. The pain he’d endured stemmed from guilt and weighed heavily on his heart. He’d made a mistake, the worst of his existence. He had led his siblings into Dar’s trap, then had allowed them to face the fallout by themselves. Yet he knew he’d make the same choice again if given the opportunity.

  What exactly did that say about him?

  His brothers and sisters claimed it made him noble, worthy of his role as a protector. He wasn’t so sure. As the eldest son of Arawn, Lord of the Underworld, and the leader of the Wild Hunt, he should have been able to save everyone that night. He’d failed, but the past couldn’t be changed, and thanks to Harley, he would finally be able to right his wrong.

  One more deep breath, and Harley’s sweet scent invaded his lungs. The tightness in his chest eased. He draped a leg over his mate’s thighs and let everything go. His eyelids drifted shut. He didn’t fight the pull of sleep. His hounds would reach out to him if danger approached. Tonight belonged to him…and Harley, his beautiful, precious mate.

  Her sigh followed him into his dreams, wrapping around him and giving him the strength he needed to finally put the past behind him. He opened his mind and let the haunting memories return, for the last time.

  * * * * *

  Calan leaned over the spectral form of his horse. His siblings spreading out behind him followed suit. With a prod to his stallion’s flank, he urged the beast faster. Its sides heaved, and breath fogged the cold night air, but it made no sound, stealth its gift along with speed. Its furious pace pushed him across the sky in a blur of motion few humans would see. Connected physically and mentally to their riders, the phantom animals shared in the wrath and urgency the Wild Hunt spurred among its riders. All seethed. All hungered for retaliation. All lived and breathed as one.

  The baying of his hounds lessened with the passing of the countryside beneath them. They were closing in on their prey. Good. The opportunity to avert disaster slipped away with each beat of the earth’s heart. He fisted the mane under his palms and dragged in a breath of air laced with the stench of evil. A smile spread. Victory hovered within their grasp.

  He glanced at Rhys, his second in command. Already fully transformed into his Huntsman body, Rhys caught his gaze with reddened eyes. His longer muzzle displayed a mouthful of deadly teeth, and curled talons gripped his flaming obsidian sword. No words passed between them. They understood the danger that awaited them if they failed—the deaths of innocents. Unacceptable in their minds.

  Rhys gave a single nod and veered off to the right with half their legion of Teulu, their family of Hunters.

  A peek at Tegan, his third in command and beloved sister, showed her in the midst of the change. Color leeched from her skin, leaving her as ghostly as the mare she rode. Claws formed. Her angelic face lengthened, and her petite frame gained mass.

  She winked at him, a drop of blood oozing from the corner of her eye. With a tip of her chin, their remaining siblings swerved to the left, leaving him alone with his favored steed.

  Silence fell over the night. Colors blurred, the world rushing by at speeds no mere human could fathom. Faster. He pushed his stallion to the limit of its abilities. The fabric of the world around him groaned, straining to maintain its woven pattern in the face of his wrath.

  A flash of light in the distance indicated his destination. Flames engulfed the village. He inhaled and inwardly cursed at the information stamped onto the breeze.

  Death.

  They’d arrived too late. Anger rose and threatened to consume him. He shoved it back. The Huntsmen would avenge those who’d fallen and save those who remained. Duty demanded it.

  He slowed his approach while Rhys and Tegan engaged the redcaps and sluaghs swarming the village. His siblings were more than capable of taking out the threats to the mortals. A hundred years of practice had perfected their fighting skills and turned their combat maneuvers into a choreographed script. All the fairies’ creatures would be struck down. There wasn’t any doubt as to who would walk away the winners—the Huntsmen.

  The true victory, however, was Calan’s to claim. For the century they’d ridden, the Hunters had captured all the escaped fairies from the Unseelie Court, save one.

  Dar.

  Calan would take him out tonight, and finally, the Hunt would end.

  Excitement gripped him at the prospect of living a real life, not one that revolved around the nightly Hunt. As a demigod, his half-human side craved the simplicity of home. He’d experienced it growing up with his mortal family. No matter how much he wanted to embrace it again, he couldn’t until Dar was transferred back to the Underworld.

  Calan scanned the hillside surrounding the human settlement. Dar would be there, not in the midst of the fight. He considered himself above the acts of cruelty he directed his redcaps and sluaghs to unleash on the innocent, even though Dar needed the screams of his victims as much as his creations did. He favored rape over murder, however. Then he could revisit the innocents he’d wronged, taunting and violating them over and over, until they took their own lives.

  If Dar followed the pattern he’d established, he’d be raping a woman nearby. Calan wanted to stop him before he slipped away, leaving his minions to distract the Huntsmen.

  No, not again. I won’t let him escape. He’s the last fairy. He will be caught. Tonight.

  The words calmed him. He brought his horse to a stop and listened. A woman’s cry reached him, faint but unmistakable. He dug his heels into his steed’s flank, and the animal ran in the direction of the sound.

  The scene playing out in the small clearing chilled Calan. Too far away to intervene, he could only watch. A redcap shoved a raven-haired pregnant woman to her knees in front of Dar. Glamour hid his monstrous shape, giving Dar the illusion of the body he’d once had—tall, blond and green-eyed.

  Calan slowed his horse. The stealth the animal was capable of would be the only thing that would avert disaster. With the horse on alert for danger, he shifted his gaze from his enemy to the woman. She didn’t plead for her life or fight her abductors. Chin raised, she held Dar’s gaze. Defiance and anger burned in her blue eyes, despite the tears running down her cheeks.

  “Do you think killing me and my babe will grant you access to the heavens, Dagda?”

  Calan tensed. The use of Dar’s true name, the one he’d gone by when he’d been king of the Seelie Court, put a spin on the situation. Only the gods knew the name Dar had once been called. How had the human female learned of it? Certainly not from Dar. He considered his old self—his Seelie self—weak.

  Dar crouched, bringing him eye to eye with the woman. “One of you will birth the Key. It has been foretold.”

  Calan dismounted and advanced on foot. He wanted to rush forward but caution prevailed. With both Dar and the redcap close, Calan couldn’t chance either male lashing out at the vulnerable mortal. No matter how she’d known Dar’s true nature, she was human. Only the Huntsmen and the fairies could walk the mortal realm. All others had been banned, including the angels. Only a shadow of their true forms could move among the humans, and without a solid body, their influence was limited.

  She glared at Dar, pure fury in her expression. “I do not carry the Key. I carry your spawn!”

  Her words stopped Calan’s strides, and rag
e whipped through him once more at the horrendous crime Dar had committed—condemning an innocent life to damnation. Dar’s Court had willing followed him, accepting the power he’d offered. The babe he’d created, however? It hadn’t been given the same choice.

  Calan wanted to roar at the injustice of the situation, but it would do no good. The deed was done. For all his many powers, he lacked the one necessary to heal the child or any being who’d been corrupted by chaos. Life wasn’t always fair, not for the gods or the humans. All they could do was endure and wait for another opportunity to thrive.

  “The prophecy never mentioned who’d father the child, so since the lot of you has chosen celibacy, I will work my way through your covenant, planting my seed until I uncover the lucky maiden who is the mother of the Key.” A demented sneer spread over his face. “Then I will claim it.”

  Horror flashed over the female’s features. She shook her head. “No, no, you cannot. Your own daughter? Surely, you aren’t that sick.”

  “Sick?” Dar raised a brow. “Those too weak to use the tools available to them are sick. I am merely doing what’s necessary to ensure I win.”

  Calan’s three favored hounds touched his mind, announcing their presence and asking direction. Although the dogs had been with the other Huntsmen in the village, they must’ve sent the animals to him as backup. He was grateful for their help. With a thought, he ordered them to spare the woman their wrath, then directed them to attack the redcap and Dar.

  The beasts moved as one, knocking both the fairy master and his redcap away from the female. The opening allowed Calan the opportunity he sought. He swept the woman into his arms. She cried out.

  “I am sorry.” He adjusted his grip, cradling her against his chest. Her swollen belly made it difficult to run without jostling her, but he did his best to stabilize her and fled with her to the edge of clearing.

  Carefully, he set her down. She whimpered and clutched at her stomach.

  He glanced from her belly to her face. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  The sharp bite to her answer didn’t reassure him, but he stood anyway. Dar needed to be restrained, and the woman was safe for the moment. “I will return for you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why? Do you wish to kill my child too?”

  No, he didn’t want to condemn her baby or any of the half-breeds Dar created, but Calan would if they became a threat. Not once had he been faced with the choice. Dar’s offspring didn’t live long. Their outcome involved becoming living fodder for his army, a cruel death but not one entirely different from that of the humans who died at their hands.

  Calan couldn’t bear telling the female of the sad fate waiting her babe. He turned his back on her and went to help his hounds. Two of the dogs snapped at Dar’s legs while the other tore the redcap to pieces. Screams filled the night, along with Dar’s laughter. The sound sent a wave of trepidation through Calan.

  The reason for Dar’s amusement became evident a moment later. Dozens of redcaps spilled from the woods. Each bore a dagger, raised and ready to strike. Some formed a living wall around Dar. The others descended on the hounds attacking him. Seconds later, the fearsome dogs whined, then were tossed across the clearing, fading before they hit the ground. Too injured to continue, they had no choice but to return to the Underworld in order to heal.

  Calan stumbled to a halt. Up close, he recognized the small blade the redcaps held. Arawn used a similar one to curse each of the Unseelie fairies the Huntsmen returned to the Underworld.

  Dar motioned toward his redcaps. “Do you like my army’s new weapon, Hunter Calan? I fashioned it after your father’s.”

  “How did you learn of it?” Only those Unseelies who’d been condemned to suffer under the fairy curse would know what it looked like. Arawn kept it locked away at all other times.

  “I didn’t learn of it.” Dar leaned forward. “I now own it.”

  Calan took a couple of steps closer. “Do not lie, fairy. The dagger is safe in the Underworld.”

  “No longer.” A small smile teased Dar’s face. “One of the residents of Hell managed to steal it for me.”

  “Impossible.” And it was. Only the Huntsmen could leave the Underworld.

  “As much as I’d love to argue with you, I have a game to win, and…” Dar waved his hand. A few of his redcaps advanced, while the rest turned and escaped into the woods. “A curse to break. Good-bye, son of Arawn.”

  With that, Dar spun on his heel and followed his fleeing troops.

  Calan took three steps after him before a redcap swung a dagger at him. Calan arched, avoiding the swipe. He didn’t know what would happen if the blade sliced him open, nor did he want to find out.

  He swept his foot and toppled the redcap into the one on his right. Another male jumped over their splayed bodies, haphazardly slashing. Calan knocked the knife out of the redcap’s hands with a sharp kick to his forearm, then snagged his attacker’s wrist and bent it back. Bone snapped. The male’s scream mixed with the roar of a third redcap who launched himself at Calan, dagger raised. Calan sidestepped, avoiding the deadly arc, and rammed his elbow against the redcap’s back.

  With a thought, he sent a warning to his siblings, only to find them fighting similarly armed redcaps. Calan cursed. Dar had planned his battle well. No matter. The Huntsmen would prevail. They had unity and strength on their side. They also recognized the danger, or potential danger, of the weapon the redcaps held. Real or illusion, they couldn’t chance falling victim to it.

  A female’s scream carried over the clearing. Calan whipped his head in the direction of the sound. A male, armed with the same type of blade the rest of Dar’s army carried, advanced on the woman Calan had saved minutes ago.

  Calan cursed and ran toward them, leaving the redcaps who’d attacked him alive and Dar to escape. He’d deal with the fairy and his creatures after he saved the woman.

  She scrambled backward, using hands and feet to propel her. The redcap dove at her, the dagger aimed at her stomach.

  “No!” Calan’s cry mirrored hers.

  He watched in slow motion as the sharp blade descended. He wasn’t going to make it to her side to stop him. Even without knowing whether the weapon would deliver the fairy curse the same way Arawn’s dagger could, a direct blow from any knife would injure the baby she carried.

  Dar’s tainted offspring or not, the unborn child didn’t deserve to die.

  Calan raised his hand, ready to call the wind—anything to knock off the redcap’s aim. A few more seconds, that was all Calan needed.

  A whoosh sounded, followed by a loud crack. A tree branch dropped and hit the redcap, knocking him to the side. Not Calan’s doing, but the act stopped the redcap from stabbing the female. Calan dropped his arm and ran faster.

  The woman jerked her head in Calan’s direction. She pointed behind him. “Look out!”

  He cut a quick glance behind him. The redcaps he’d left barreled down on them. He couldn’t fight them and ensure the woman remained safe. With a thought, he called his horse forward to hold the redcaps back. His horse couldn’t attack them, not in the same way his hounds could, but it would do everything in its power to delay them. That done, Calan rushed to her side and scooped her up, an arm under her legs and another across her back to avoid jostling her as he’d done the last time.

  “Put me down. I don’t want you to save me! Anyone but you!” She shoved against him.

  Her push caught him by surprise. He stumbled, then righted himself. “Well, I have, and I promise to get you to safety.”

  “No! No promises. Take it back!” She clawed at him, her nails ripping at his skin, and fought his hold. “Let me go before it’s too late!”

  He ignored her thrashing and her crazed ramblings. He didn’t have time to calm her, not while the redcap closest remained alive. The male pushed to his fee
t, then leapt at them. Calan leaned to the right, using his body to shield the woman. It was the best he could do to save her. Another tree branch let loose and walloped the redcap in the head. The male crumbled, his blade falling harmlessly to the ground.

  Too coincidental to be natural, Calan scanned the woods for the source. A flash of light caught his attention. He focused on it, and a fuzzy form took shape. The ethereal figure was one he’d never seen before, but he knew what the being was—an angel.

  He didn’t have time to question the angel’s presence or his help. Calan would use the heavenly assistance given to get the woman and her child to safety. Neither would die, not on his watch, at least. Nature would take both, one to old age and the other to a fate no child should be condemned to experience. He couldn’t stop either.

  But not today. Not at Dar or his redcaps’ hands. Not while I am here to protect them.

  He called his horse to him. It galloped forward and trampled on the redcap’s fallen body, crushing his skull.

  The woman screamed. Instead of trying to escape, she clung to him. He couldn’t blame her. His skeletal horse reeked of Hell and instilled fear in all those it looked upon. At the moment, its fathomless eyes were locked on to the female. The reaction didn’t surprise him. His horse didn’t allow others to ride it, not even his siblings. It would tolerate the woman on its back only as long as Calan stood near them.

  Although draining, he opened his mind to hers and drew her terror into himself. He couldn’t risk her falling off the steed because she panicked. She calmed, and he lifted her onto his horse’s back. The animal immediately bucked, trying to knock her off. He grabbed the horse’s mane with one hand and steadied the female with his other. A stern command settled the animal. Assured it would remain still for the moment, he turned to face the remaining redcaps.

  Only three remained. The fourth’s crushed body matched the one near Calan’s feet. He snatched the dagger from the ground. Energy whipped up his arm. He stumbled a second time.

  Real. It was real.