Hunter Hunted

by Arthur, Keri

  “Which suggests, at worse, he or she simply doesn’t care how their magic is employed. I’ve come across more than a few of them over my years with the RWA, and there’s one thing they all have in common—they’ll turn a blind eye to anything as long as you pay them well enough.”

  I grunted. “When I touched the thread I found on the first wolf, I got a vague impression of black teapots. I don’t suppose you know of any registered witch stores with a name revolving around either tea or teapots?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I work for the RWA, not the business register.”

  “Yeah, but aren’t witches supposed to notify the RWA if they’re setting up shop in your area?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean squat, and you and Belle are perfect examples of that.”

  I smiled. “That’s because we’re unregistered and underpowered.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  “And maybe one of these days you’ll actually believe it.” I glanced around at the sound of a distant siren. “I’ll head up and flag that thing down.”

  He nodded. “I’ll see if I can unravel the charm’s magic and pin down its intent.”

  “Aiden said we weren’t to touch anything—”

  “I don’t need to touch it to unravel it, as you well know. Besides, it’s never a wise move to leave unknown magic active—especially in a case like this, when the hunters unexpectedly leave their prize behind.”

  All of which was certainly true. “Just try not to blow yourself up this time.”

  He snorted. “I’m not as arrogantly confident as our heretic hunter, so you can rest assured I’ll unpick the magic very carefully indeed.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I thought Chester’s caution was the only thing that saved you both?”

  He snorted again. “I had to give that impression, didn’t I? The rangers don’t need another reason to distrust a witch right now.”

  Which was fair enough. I swung my pack off my shoulders and handed it to him. “There’s an assortment of potions and blessed items in there if you need any additional magical help.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought it’d be in your best interests to give me free access to such items,” he said, amusement evident but with an odd sort of seriousness. “How do you know I won’t pick apart your magic rather than the charm’s?”

  “Aside from the fact I have nothing to hide when it comes to my magic,” I replied evenly, “you’re not the type to go behind my back to do something like that. You’d tell me flat out what you were doing, why you were doing it, and then curse me when the results weren’t exactly what you were expecting.”

  He laughed, a sharp sound that ended in a wince. “That is all certainly true. You’d best head up before that damn ambulance drives past us.”

  By the time I’d scrambled up the hill, my breathing was little more than short wheezes. While the hill was certainly steep, it was more to do with the fact I was damned unfit. I somehow made it across to the fence and leaned against it heavily. As I sucked in air to ease the fire in my lungs, I decided—not for the first time in my life—that I really needed to do something about my fitness levels.

  Two ambulances soon came into sight. I waved them down and was almost immediately escorted into the back of one to be checked and treated while the crew of the second ambulance went into the paddock to help Ashworth. Despite the fact I had little more than a cut on the chin, the medics insisted I go back to the hospital for observation. Apparently, abrasions and bruising like mine were classic signs of “seat belt syndrome” and it was possible there was deeper internal damage even if I was feeling perfectly fine right now.

  While the last thing I wanted or needed was to be in hospital over Christmas, I didn’t particularly want to drop dead either.

  The tow truck and Aiden arrived at the same time. Ciara wasn’t with him, which meant she was either still on the way or he’d called in an off-reservation substitute. He climbed out of his vehicle, his gaze sweeping the area and the two ambulances before coming to rest on me. Relief briefly surged across his expression before it settled into one of annoyance.

  He strode over, talked for a couple of seconds to the paramedic who’d treated me, and then climbed into the back of the ambulance and sat down on the attendant’s seat opposite me. His nostrils flared as he did so, and something flickered across his expression—something that looked a whole lot like relief.

  It said a lot about the current state of my brain that it took me several seconds to realize why—he’d been searching for the scent of sex and hadn’t found it.

  Annoyance, anger, and all manner of other unreasonable emotions surged, and I couldn’t help snapping, “So are you going to return the favor?”

  Confusion crossed his expression. “What favor?”

  I touched my nose. “You now know I didn’t have sex last night—so did you?”

  Amusement twitched his lips. “What happened to the two of us being free agents and not owing each other anything?”

  “Nothing happened to it. I’m just asking you what you were apparently afraid to ask me.”

  He laughed and caught my hands in his. “Liz, I’ve already told you more than once that until you came along, there was no one currently within this reservation I was sexually interested in. Why would you think that has changed?”

  “Because I’m not a wolf,” I said bluntly, “and I have no idea what really goes on in these two-day celebrations of yours.”

  “Lots of things go on, but the ones you’ve no doubt heard about—the drinking and sexual hookups—are not mandatory nor, for the most part, even encouraged. Especially when you’re the head ranger and on call twenty-four seven over that period.”

  “Well, that’s good to know.” I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “But just so you know, I don’t like sharing. If you do ever become attracted to another wolf, tell me first.”

  “How about you stop worrying about the future and just concentrate on enjoying the present?”

  “I’ve spent a good portion of my life worrying about the future, Aiden. It’s a damn hard habit to break.”

  “Then I guess it’s something we’ll have to work on together.” He kissed my fingers then released me and leaned back in the chair. The warmth in his expression faded. I was again facing the ranger rather than the lover. “Why didn’t you call me before you went chasing after the hunters?”

  “Because I didn’t know what the wild magic was trying to show me. It could have been nothing.”

  “Since when has its involvement led to nothing?”

  “She didn’t want us to wait, Aiden, and I didn’t want to call—”

  “Because you were pissed off at me.”

  “A statement that might or might not be true.”

  He smiled. “I suspect there may be a mighty fine temper hidden beneath those well-controlled layers of yours.”

  “Another thing that may or may not be true.” My answering smile didn’t last all that long. “But it doesn’t alter the fact I wanted to find out what we were dealing with before I pulled either you or whoever else was on call out of the celebrations. I was trying to do the right thing.”

  “I appreciate that, but next time—”

  “I’ll probably do exactly the same thing.”

  “You,” he said heavily, “can be very bloody annoying at times.”

  “So Belle keeps telling me.” I reached into my pocket and drew out the gold chain. “This was the wolf’s. I used it to track his location once we’d found his car.”

  I dropped the chain into his palm. He studied it for a moment and then said softly, “I know three wolves who wear chains like this. It may sound horrible, but I hope our victim isn’t one of them.”

  “For your sake, I hope so too.”

  “It’s more for my father’s sake than mine.” His mouth twisted. “Death is never easy to accept, even at the best of times, but it’s always that much harder when it’s someone you knew or loved.”

/>   Something I knew from experience. But at least Aiden wasn’t responsible for this death—and wouldn’t ever be held accountable for it.

  I swallowed back the bitter sadness that accompanied the thought, and glanced past him as a paramedic appeared.

  “Ranger, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave. We need to get Ms. Grace to the hospital.”

  Aiden nodded and rose. “I’ll get your full statement once you’re cleared by the hospital. Until then, try to behave.”

  “It’s not me you have to worry about,” I grumbled, “but rather the bad guys intent on havoc.”

  “Them I can cope with. It’s you getting caught in the middle that worries me.” He kissed me tenderly but all too briefly. “So please stay out of trouble, and we’ll talk again soon.”

  He left. Once the paramedic climbed in, the doors were closed and I was quickly whisked over to the hospital. They did a CT scan, ran all manner of other tests, and then decided they’d better keep me for the next forty-eight hours just to be on the safe side. But as Belle reminded me a number of times over the long days that followed, better that than discovering way too late that I was bleeding internally.

  The day after Boxing Day—and after another full battery of tests to ensure nothing untoward was happening to my insides—they finally declared me fit enough to leave. Belle came to collect me and, after checking on Ashworth—who was rather hopeful of also being released, despite the fact the orthopedic surgeon had only operated on his arm yesterday—we headed home.

  The first thing I did was take an extremely long, extremely hot shower. It helped ease the lingering aches and made me feel a lot better. While I’d been able to shower in the hospital, it was never the same as your own. A quick look in the mirror revealed a rainbow assortment of bruises blooming over my right shoulder and a good portion of my breast, but for the most part that was the worst of it. The cut on my chin hadn’t been deep enough to require stitches, and the multitude of scratches I’d gotten from the flying glass were barely visible. Once again, lady luck had been on my side.

  It was nearing midday by the time I finally clattered down to the café. Belle had been busy in the kitchen while I’d been upstairs, and there was a huge spread of ham, turkey, salad, thickly cut buttered bread, gravy, and cranberry sauce laid out on one of the tables. There was also the traditional large jug of very potent eggnog, and one of Michael Bublé’s many Christmas CDs playing softly in the background.

  “This,” I said happily, “all looks fabulous.”

  “A late celebration is better than none.” She held out a brightly colored Christmas cracker. “And I have news to celebrate.”

  “What news?”

  “Traditions before explanations.” She waved the cracker at me.

  I grinned. We’d long ago decided to not to give each other Christmas—or even birthday—presents, but silly things like cracker hats, Christmas carols, and eggnog—like our singing and dancing on Christmas Eve—had become something of a ritual. I grabbed the other end of the cracker and pulled. There was a faint pop as the cracker split, leaving Belle with the main portion of it. She pulled out the purple paper hat and shoved it on her head while I picked up the other cracker so we could repeat the process. My hat was a vivid pink. I shoved it on and ignored her snort of amusement. “Give with the news, woman.”

  “The council has rejected the witch who was coming here to be interviewed on the grounds that if he couldn’t manage to make a damn plane, he wasn’t likely to be a good match for this reservation.”

  I picked up the eggnog and poured us both a glass. “And how did you discover this when all three packs are coming off a two-day celebration and are likely to be hunkered down in their compounds sleeping it all off?”

  “Well, an elderly wolf might just have been brought to the hospital as I was leaving last night, and I might just have skimmed his mind to see what was happening.”

  Amusement twitched my lips. “I take it this wolf might just have been from the Marin pack?”

  “Indeed he might have. And he might also have turned out to be a pack alpha who’d been part of the emergency meeting convened after the witch’s no-show.”

  “Is said wolf okay?”

  “Suspected heart attack, according to the duty nurse.”

  I frowned. “I’d have thought wolves immune to those sort of problems, given their bodies have natural set points for health.”

  “Yeah, but they still do age, regardless, and with that comes problems.” She paused and wrinkled her nose. “And this one was rather on the tubby side—too much wine and hamburgers.”

  “Did you steal that from his mind, as well?”

  “Didn’t have to. His wife was berating him long and loud.” She picked up a plate and began filling it. “Anyway, they rather surprisingly haven’t gone back to their stand of not having an official witch on the reservation, and have instead asked to interview their second choice.”

  “Canberra’s aware of the true size of the wellspring here now, so that’s really not surprising. It was either they choose a witch, or Canberra was going to do it for them.”

  She took a sip of eggnog. “Whoa, I think I overdid the rum this time.”

  I tried mine, felt the burn all the way down, and then grinned. “Neither of us need to drive anywhere, so it doesn’t really matter.”

  “Yeah, but we open again tomorrow and we do need to be mobile.”

  “Given a good portion of the reservation has been partying for two and a half days, I’m thinking no one will actually notice if we’re carrying a little alcohol hangover.” I pulled out a chair and sat down. “Don’t suppose you managed to get a name while you were digging around?”

  “He’s apparently younger than they would have preferred.” Belle wrinkled her nose. “He’s an Ashworth—Frederick Ashworth, I think.”

  “Which is not a name I’m immediately familiar with.”

  “No, but it is a rather old-fashioned one, which suggests he’s from one of the older Ashworth lines.”

  “There are plenty of branches in the Ashworth family tree,” I said. “All that really matters to us is the fact he’s not from my particular family branch.”

  “Yes.” She paused. “Aiden’s heading this way. You’d better pour the man a drink, because his thoughts are full-on grumpy.”

  I hastily grabbed and filled another glass then walked across to the front door, opening it just as he’d raised his hand to knock. He was wearing a black T-shirt that emphasized his muscular body and—rather sadly—baggy jeans that didn’t. His hair looked to have been roughly finger-combed and dark honey-colored whiskers shadowed his chin and jawline.

  Scruffy or not, he looked damn fine.

  “Morning,” I said, and offered him the eggnog. “I’m informed you need this rather badly.”

  His nostrils flared. “There’s a hell of a lot of alcohol in that thing, and I start work in precisely one hour.”

  “No wonder you’re all sorts of grumpy this morning,” came Belle’s comment.

  Aiden kissed me briefly and then stepped inside. “Seriously, can you just stay out of my brain?”

  “I wasn’t in your brain, Ranger. Didn’t have to be when you’re radiating unhappy vibes all over the place. You had lunch?”

  “No. I haven’t even had breakfast. I thought I’d come see Lizzie, and take her statement while I’m here.”

  “And they say romance is dead.” Belle came back out of the kitchen and handed him a plate.

  He pulled a chair out and sat down. “Hey, I’m here, and that took a heroic amount of effort considering the lack of sleep over the last few days, let me tell you.”

  “So was the lack of sleep work-related or party?” I asked mildly.

  “Mainly work-related, although there were a few official things I was expected to be at given I’m the oldest, and will become pack leader once either of my parents die.”

  Belle frowned and waved her fork at him. “How does that actually work
? In actual wolf packs, the alpha cubs are sent packing once they’re old enough to start their own family.”

  “Yes, but werewolves are an offshoot branch of humanity rather than wolves.” He picked up his plate and began loading it up. High. The man was hungry. “Our pack consists of five different branches of the O’Connor bloodline, and each one is ruled by one alpha pairing.”

  “That’s a rather small gene pool, isn’t it?” I said.

  He nodded. “Which is why we have the exchange system running. All three packs here have the same problem.”

  “Which is undoubtedly why Zak went a-running when a new piece of tail came into his pack.”

  “Zak is an idiot.”

  Belle grinned. “That is exactly my thought, but why would you think it?”

  “Because I’ve met the wolf in question. She’s pretty, but not in your league.”

  “Ranger, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “Stop raiding my thoughts every other minute, and I’d be nice more often.”

  She leaned over and patted his arm. “I promise I’ve never done anything more than a surface raid—and only then because I’m a good familiar who wants to protect the emotional well-being of her witch.”

  “That’s not exactly comforting, you know.”

  “So just treat her well, and we won’t have a problem.” She picked up her eggnog and took a drink. “The latest target of Zak’s affections does have one advantage over me, though—the fact that she is a wolf.”

  “Yes, but it’s pretty evident she’s after something more than a bartending handyman. Zak’s a good bloke, but he’ll never be pack alpha.” He glanced at her, his expression curious. “Would you accept him back?”

  “Hell no. He made a choice, now he has to live with it.”

  Aiden’s gaze came to me and I smiled and raised my glass. “Ditto, in case you’re wondering.”

  “Then I sure as hell won’t be as foolish as Zak.”

  Which didn’t at all comfort me.

  It should, Belle said. Unless and until a new wolf comes into this reservation and catches his heart, he’s all yours.