Hunter Hunted

by Arthur, Keri

  “Anyone who has ever eaten in your café, the ladies of the gossip brigade, my pack, a good portion of the Marin pack, Ashworth—”

  “Ashworth?” I cut in, surprised. “Why on earth would they listen to him considering he’s only temporary and they don’t like him anyway?”

  “Because he told them in no uncertain terms that it’s only thanks to your intervention that the wild magic isn’t more problematic than it is.”

  I frowned. “Why would he say that when it’s not true? I’ve used the wild magic but I’m certainly not able to properly protect it.”

  I had helped Ashworth out when he’d gone up there to protect the place, layering a final line of defense around the main wellspring that was unlikely to stop anyone of true power.

  Besides, it was only thanks to Katie’s presence within at least a portion of the reservation’s wild magic that I was even sitting here tonight. If not for her intervention, the bullets that had smashed into the café door and through my car’s headrest would have instead done to my brains what had been done to our dark sorcerer’s.

  “He said you’ve an unusual affinity with the magic here, and that they’d be the biggest damn fools ever if they let such a rare connection go.” He smiled. “Of course, Ashworth being Ashworth, he then went on a ten-minute rant about how their inaction with the wellspring would affect the entire reservation for years to come, and that the darkness we’d witnessed in the last month or so was only just the beginning.”

  “Gabe said the same thing.”

  Aiden nodded. “I’m not sure the council actually believe the whole Katie and Gabe thing, but I think Ashworth finally got through to them. It’s why they finally contacted Canberra for a permanent replacement.”

  “I’m surprised Ashworth didn’t put himself forward for the position.” Especially considering his intention of finding out what was going on with Belle and me.

  “The council did offer it to him, though I think it was a case of better the devil you know. He turned them down—said they needed a much younger witch who was more up-to-date with the latest in spellcraft.”

  “I guess today’s event proved that. Neither of us have any idea what sort of spell had been created.”

  “Something that was mentioned when Tala was called upon to give them an update on the murder.” Aiden released my hands and then picked up his beer. “To your continuing presence here on the reservation.”

  I lightly tapped my glass against his. “To not having the best damn brownies you’ve ever tasted leave the reservation.”

  He grinned. “Definitely.”

  Our meals arrived—rare steak for him, and a decently cooked one for me—and the conversation moved on. We talked for hours about his family and my travels—where Belle and I had been, and why we’d left—until the candle had burned down low and the staff were making polite “please leave” motions.

  Once we’d split the bill—he wanted to fully pay but I was having none of that—we left. The night was much cooler and goose bumps skittered across my skin. Aiden wrapped an arm around my shoulders and tucked me close.

  “So,” he said casually, but with an underlying tension I could feel through every movement, “would you like to come back to my place? Or would you prefer to go back to your hotel?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Do you really have to ask?”

  He gave me an endearing, lopsided smile. “I learned long ago never to take things for granted, no matter how well things might appear to be going.”

  “So you’ve said before.” I studied him for a second, catching the briefest glimmer of pain in his eyes. “But this time I’m sensing there’s a story behind it.”

  “Indeed there is, but it’s one I’d rather share on a cooling night.”

  “So it’s a tale full of woe and misplaced expectations?”

  “And heartbreak. Don’t forget the heartbreak.”

  “Never.” I couldn’t imagine anyone actually wanting to break this man’s heart, but someone obviously had. “Are you in need of a comfort cuddle?”

  “Comfort cuddles never go astray,” he said evenly. “But right now, I’m thinking sex would be better. Hot, sweaty sex.”

  My pulse leapt into overdrive again. “I could certainly get behind an aim like that.”

  “Good, because I really wasn’t planning on going solo.”

  I laughed. “Neither was I, trust me on that.”

  “More than happy to hear that.” He opened the car door for me then ran around to the driver side and climbed in.

  It didn’t take us long to get to his home, which was situated within a six-unit complex built close to the sandy shoreline of the vast Argyle Lake. His apartment sat at the far end of the complex, close to a curving shoreline and surrounded by trees. It was a two-story, cedar-clad building complete with a long first-floor balcony and a wall of glass that overlooked the water. Belle and I had stayed here the night the café roof had been blown off, but this was the first time he and I had been here alone.

  It was a thought that had butterflies stirring. I suspected their origin wasn’t only expectation, but also nervousness. After all, not only had it been a rather long time since my last sexual encounter, it was also my first with this man. And many of my previous “first times” had been plain awkward at best, and damn unsatisfying at worst.

  Aiden opened the front door and ushered me inside. The lower floor was basically one long room divided by an open wooden staircase. At the far end was a modern kitchen diner, complete with a bench long enough for six people to sit around. On this side of the room, there was an open fireplace, around which was a C-shaped, hugely comfortable leather sofa. The TV—a monster of a thing—dominated the corner between the fireplace and the outside glass wall. The stairs led up to two bedrooms, each with its own en suite. Aiden’s was at the front of the building and had balcony access and long views over the lake. There was only one acknowledgment of the festive season in the room, and that was the rather sad-looking tree that sat on the other side of the fireplace.

  “Not even a real tree, let alone a decorated one.” I shook my head, my expression one of mock sadness. “I expected more, Ranger.”

  “I’m not about to cut down a real tree, and there are decorations—it has tiny lights at the end of each branch.”

  “Which don’t work if you don’t plug it in.”

  “I’m not here enough to worry about it.” He closed the front door but didn’t turn on either the overhead or tree lights. They weren’t needed—the moonlight now streaming in through the glass provided more than enough light.

  “Coffee?” He brushed past, sending a shiver of delight rolling across my skin. “Or perhaps something stronger to settle the nerves?”

  I smiled and followed him down to the kitchen. “A wolf’s nose is keener than I thought if you can smell my nerves.”

  His grin flashed, bright and warm. “Who was talking about your nerves?”

  I smiled, hooked my purse over the back of the nearest bar chair, and then sat down. “I’m glad I’m not the only one having an attack of ‘it’s been so long, what-ifs?’”

  His grin grew. “In my case, it’s more a case of wanting so badly I’m afraid it’ll be over in a heartbeat.”

  I accepted the glass of whiskey and raised an eyebrow. “So that much-vaunted control you were boasting about—”

  “It was lies. All lies. I apologize in advance for any inadvertent hastiness.”

  I laughed. “Then I shall apologize in advance if it takes me a little longer to get fired up, despite the raging desire.”

  He sat down on the next seat then spun me around and positioned his knees either side of mine. He raised his glass and said, “To hastiness, nervousness, and an end result that will blow both our socks off. If we were wearing them, that is.”

  I touched my glass against his and took a drink. It was a really lovely whiskey, but it also really wasn’t what I wanted to taste right now.

  He tossed his drink down
in one gulp then grabbed the edge of my chair and pulled me even closer. He slid one finger under the left shoulder of my dress and gently guided it down my arm. I shifted the glass from one hand to the other and let the sleeve fall to my waist. As I took another drink, he repeated the process on the other side, leaving me half-naked and trembling with expectation.

  I followed his lead and downed my drink. The alcohol burned all the way down and swamped the butterflies in an instant. I put the glass on the counter and then said, “I hardly think it fair that I’m partially naked and you’re not.” I began undoing his shirt buttons. “I expect full equality in this relationship, you know.”

  “More than happy to oblige.” His breath hitched as my fingers played with the top button of his pants. “But you’re playing with fire if you go there right now.”

  I laughed then leaned forward and brushed my lips across his. Tasted the hints of clove, nutmeg, and toffee that were the lingering remnants of the whiskey, and the trembling heat that lay underneath them. He groaned softly then wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, holding me still as he deepened the kiss. All too soon it became so fierce and urgent that I could barely even think, let alone breathe.

  He broke off with another groan and began to touch me, using both hands and mouth to explore and tease. I arched my back, thrusting my breasts forward, silently pleading with him to do more. He caught one nipple in his mouth, gently teasing it with his teeth before using his tongue to amplify the delicious sensations shuddering through me. Then he swapped to the other nipple, repeating the process, time and again, until my whole body was trembling and awash with desire. Then, finally, his fingers slid past my belly button, past the pooled layers of my dress, past the elastic of my panties, and into the warm wetness waiting there. He caressed and teased and brought me right to the brink of satisfaction, only to pull away. I groaned and cursed him. He chuckled softly, a sweetly evil sound that hung on the air as he began the whole process again. And then again. But just as I ready to scream in frustration, he caught my face between his hands and gently kissed me.

  Then he pressed his forehead against mine, his breath short, sharp pants that burned my lips. “You have no idea how badly I want you right now, but I wanted our first time—”

  “Aiden, if you don’t stop worrying and get naked—right here and now—I am going to take matters into my own hands.”

  His laugh skittered across my sweat-dotted skin. “I do love a woman who’s not afraid to state her needs.”

  “This woman’s needs are great, so get moving.”

  To say we got naked in record time would be another of those understatements. He pulled a foiled condom out of his jeans pocket and then wrapped his arms around me and kissed me again. It was no less urgent than before, and the trembling need in my body grew.

  “Here or upstairs?”

  “If you dare move anywhere, Ranger,” I muttered, “I will scream.”

  He laughed again and put the condom on. I pushed him back onto the bar chair and then climbed onto his lap, straddling his legs and then lowering myself onto him.

  He slipped inside slowly—easily—and oh lord, it felt so good, so right, that a shudder ran through me and a groan of utter pleasure escaped. It was a sound he echoed, but for several seconds, neither of us moved. His breath washed across my lips, and the heat pooling deep within was gathering strength and demanding release. He slid one hand around my waist and the other up to my left breast, cupping it, teasing it with fingers and thumb as I began to rock against him. Slowly at first, and then with increasing urgency. The exquisite pressure built and built, curling through my body, shaking me with its power, until it became a tidal wave that would not be denied.

  “Oh... God.” My voice was little more than a fractured whisper. “Please....”

  Our urgency increased. I gripped his shoulders, thrusting down harder—quicker—onto him, pushing him deeper. All too soon the shuddering took hold as my orgasm hit and pleasure ripped through my body. I groaned, a sound that seemed to tip Aiden over the edge. He came, fast and hard and with a deep roar of utter pleasure.

  For several minutes, neither of us moved. I couldn’t move—satisfaction seemed to have sapped my strength and if I hadn’t already been sitting, my knees would have given way and had me falling.

  Eventually he kissed me again, with a passion that spoke of need barely quenched.

  “That was amazing.”

  “Indeed.” I loosely locked my arms around his shoulders. “But I’m told werewolves have extraordinary stamina, and I’m feeling the need to examine whether this rumor is true or not. How many condoms have you got on hand?”

  “More than enough, let me assure you.” He placed his hands under my butt and rose. As I wrapped my legs around his waist, he added, “Shall we go fulfill this desire of yours?”

  “Please do.”

  He laughed and carried me up the stairs to his bedroom. Over the long course of the night, he did indeed prove werewolves had amazing stamina.

  But then, so did some witches when they were in the arms of the right man.

  * * *

  “Well, well,” Belle said, as I wandered into the café the next morning. “Don’t you look like the cat who got all the cream?”

  I sighed and leaned against the cake counter. “And very good cream it was, too.”

  “I’m very happy to hear that.” Belle pushed a cappuccino toward me. “I’m guessing you’ll be absent from the hotel room for the next couple of nights, then?”

  “The next couple of weeks, if I have any say. I’ve three years of abstinence to make up for, remember.”

  “If you can make that up in mere weeks, I’ll be seriously concerned about the state of your libido.”

  I laughed. “How was the show?”

  “Good, but then, you can’t really go wrong with Les Mis.”

  There was something in her voice that had instinct stirring. “But there nevertheless was a problem?”

  “Could be.” She pursed her lips. “I think the wolf grows restless.”

  “That was always going to happen.” Although it was a truth I wasn’t willing to confront just yet given my relationship with Aiden had barely gotten off the ground. Or, more specifically, into bed.

  “I know, but I did think my fabulousness would hold his interest a wee bit longer.”

  “It certainly should have.”

  She smiled. “Luckily, there are plenty of other canines in this particular den.”

  “I think they’d all be rather offended to hear you refer to them as mere canines.” I took a drink. “Has he said anything?”

  “No. And it’s not like he’ll take on other lovers without talking to me first. He is, above all else, honorable that way.”

  “So it could be nothing more than an off night?”

  “Could be. I doubt it though.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t really fuss me, to be honest. I’m having a thoroughly good time with him, but I’ve always known it would be a short fling rather than anything deeper.”

  Because werewolves didn’t do deeper—not with the likes of us. It was something I needed to keep reminding myself about, given my past habit of falling for entirely the wrong man.

  Belle leaned her hip against the counter and took a sip of her coffee. “What are we going to do about the witch that’s coming in?”

  I shrugged. “Avoid him seeing us standing side by side at all costs, but other than that, there’s nothing we can do.”

  “True.” She sighed. “I guess the real worry will come once they contract a reservation witch.”

  “Yeah, but let’s not stress about it until it happens.”

  She raised her eyebrows, amusement evident. “This from the woman who was all doom, gloom, and ‘my parents are going to find us and drag us back to Canberra’ only a day ago?”

  I grinned. “It’s amazing just how much good sex can brighten one’s outlook.”

  “Obviously.” Her amusement faded. “What did the th
reads within that protection circle look like? I might do a run through Gran’s books, just to see if she mentions anything along those lines.”

  I gave her a description and then said, “Weren’t you the one berating me for sticking my nose into dark events when there was no need?”

  She sniffed. It was an amusingly haughty sound. “Which is why I should do the research. As the motto goes, a good familiar should always be prepared.”

  “That’s the Scouts.”

  “Same, same.” She wrinkled her nose. “In all honesty, the spirits are uneasy, though they’re not saying why.”

  “Now there’s a surprise.”

  Her gaze became somewhat distracted as she listened to the other side. “They don’t appreciate your sarcasm.”

  “They never do.”

  “And whatever it is they’re sensing,” she continued, ignoring me, “it has a very old feel.”

  “Well, that totally clarifies everything.” I took another drink. “It’d be rather nice if they gave us a heads-up the next time a dark witch stepped onto the reservation.”

  “They’re here to offer advice, not do our work for us.” Her tone was filled with an old-fashioned primness—an echo of whatever spirit guide was currently chatting to her. There were several who tended to follow us around, which in itself was rather unusual. They—no doubt through Belle’s connection with me—obviously heard that particular thought, because she added, “They also wish to remind you that lower house witches generally aren’t graced by the presence of spirit guides, and that you should be grateful they deign to help us at all.”

  “I’m being chastised by spirits? Seriously?”

  “They’re merely stating a little appreciation every now and again would not go astray.”

  I smiled. “I do appreciate. Seriously.”

  “They’re unconvinced.”

  “Then I’ll try to curtail my sarcasm for at least a day or so.” My phone beeped. I dug it out of my purse and saw a text from Ashworth. I read it quickly and then said, “The new witch arrives at the airport around five.”