The Hunted (The Chronicles of the Hunter Book 1)

by Jackie Ivie

  “Kane! You’re back.”

  “Rafael.”

  Kane spun. LeeAnn got a quick panorama of more sunlit windows attached to what looked like a second floor landing, leading to a lot more space. But the way she viewed it was sickening. She wasn’t the motion-sick type, but this method of transportation was definitely testing it.

  “What you got there?”

  “Complication.”

  “Need any help?”

  “No.”

  He turned back around. LeeAnn’s head dropped to the middle of his back. Leon? And now Rafael? They had very interesting and unique names in this house. That was one thing she could list for the authorities.

  “Wait.” Kane spun back as he said it. His back vibrated with the word. LeeAnn swallowed.

  “I need women’s clothing.”

  “Any particular size? Type?”

  “Just send Jezzie. She’ll know.”

  Jezzie? The relief was palpable. Like a wash of cool water. It didn’t help the pounding in LeeAnn’s head, but it relieved the anxiety. She wasn’t the lone woman here. But then the unseen Rafael had to go and ruin it.

  “You sure you want her?”

  “Yeah.”

  Kane spun and started mounting steps again. LeeAnn tried to focus and peek, checking for the man beneath them. It was useless. He was in the shadow thrown by the balustrade and Kane moved too quickly.

  “Hope you know what you’re doing, big guy.”

  Kane answered beneath his breath, altering the new-found relief with worry again. LeeAnn’s eyes went wide and he probably felt her gasp.

  “Me, too.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Kane stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and ruffled his hair with an efficiency that nearly sent sparks. Dried the rest of his body with the same quick, almost-angered motions. Wrapped the towel about his hips, tying it with a bit more strength than he needed. His movements matched how he felt.

  Exactly.

  He was in what the others referred to as his black mood. Fighting inner demons. The kind that kept everyone away until it passed. Nobody knew what brought them on. He hadn’t either. Before.

  This time, he knew the cause.

  LeeAnn Schultz.

  He was suffering something very close to lust. LeeAnn was at the center of it. Causing heated sensations that sent fire licking at his thighs. Groin. Its heat stirred primal needs. Animalistic wants. His body acted as if a bellows were at work on it, sending oxygen to an already hot fire. Fueling a constant state of arousal. The erection distorting his towel was the proof. Impossible to hide. Readily apparent. The situation was really starting to anger. Frustrate.

  Kane slicked his hair back with his hands, finger-combed it back into a tail again, and spent a couple of seconds looking for a strap before letting it go. Steam gradually dissipated, leaving him with a focused view of the room. Him. And his problem.

  He snarled at his mirrored image before tipping his head to one side. He concentrated. The bathroom was like a space vacuum. Deathly quiet. No sound came from outside the door, though. No screams. No yelling. No alarms being sounded. LeeAnn must be behaving.

  And Jezzie.

  The woman’s real name was Jezebel. In Hebrew it meant “not exalted.” That pretty much explained Jezzie. She wasn’t the type to go out of her way for anyone or anything. She liked causing trouble. She’d looked at him with a calculated gaze as he’d explained what he wanted. As if she sensed an attraction he didn’t dare acknowledge. Seeing LeeAnn into attractive garments should be right up Jezzie’s alley. She could set up a doomed situation and see what developed.

  Kane’s expression turned into a frown. In retrospect, he should have kept LeeAnn with him, despite how her proximity unsettled, and then challenged. He could have waited to shower. Shave. Change clothes.

  Shit.

  He was turning into a class-A dimwit here.

  One with a testosterone problem.

  He really shouldn’t have sent for Jezebel, but the tall brunette looked the same size as LeeAnn. She should have something the girl could wear. Kane was guessing on LeeAnn’s exact dimensions, but he figured she was about five-and-a-half feet tall. She weighed an easily-portable one-hundred, thirty-five. Maybe less. She was slim. She didn’t make an unwieldy bundle even swathed in bedding.

  The frown cleared slightly. He was overanalyzing this. Adding issues that might not even happen. Moreover, he wasn’t a babysitter. Jezebel might be a manipulative and spite-filled woman, but LeeAnn had proven capable. She dealt with traumatic situations well, followed instructions, and had a quick mind. She could handle Jezzie.

  Besides...they were only two doors away. Same floor. Kane leaned toward the mirror. Studied his eyes for several long moments before giving it up. Nothing had changed. And time was wasting. He needed to check on LeeAnn. Make sure she was clothed. Had eaten breakfast.

  Kane smirked at his reflection before opening the door. He sure felt like a babysitter.

  Air-conditioned air cooled the space immediately. The chill raised goose bumps on his skin and helped with his groin problem. Good thing. He’d set out above-the-knee swim trunks. Jammers. Spandex and PBT construction. They were fit exactly to his proportions. Created less drag...but they had other issues. They were going to show off a lot. He should’ve chosen loose-fit trunks. Then again...this misguided arousal was one-sided. LeeAnn hadn’t acted remotely interested in him.

  Kane cinched the waist with more strength than required, and then had to let some of the nylon cord out before stepping into wet-shoes. What the hell was he doing? Thinking? He didn’t want LeeAnn interested in him! That was just more craziness this situation didn’t need.

  He grabbed his t-shirt as the phone rang. Land line. Kane yanked the receiver off the cradle with more strength than that required, too. He tightened his hand about it for a second or two before moving it to his ear.

  “Kane? You there? It’s Leon.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We have company.”

  “Description?”

  “Police officers. Two. Unmarked car.”

  “Anybody have a warrant?”

  “No.”

  “They say what they want?”

  “They’re saying you dinged a vehicle in a parking garage in Miami this morning. They have a picture of your front bumper. Mainly the license plate area. From the exit area. Pay stall. It’s time stamped at...yep. This morning. A little after five. It’s your vehicle, all right.”

  Oh, shit.

  Hindsight was a real bitch. He wasn’t just in unfamiliar territory. He was mucking everything up while there. He hadn’t hit anything. LeeAnn had some major players on her ass. Moneyed. Connected. Fast. And smart. He should have waited in the parking garage! Not been the first vehicle to leave after a botched hit. Talk about painting a target on his back.

  “Hit the silent alarm, Leon. Red alert.”

  “You’ll be right down, then? Excellent, my man. We’ll just break out the coffee while we wait,” Leon replied. “Hey! I hope you two police officers won’t mind if I turn my tunes back on, will you?”

  Loud strains of rock music came clearly through the telephone receiver. The lights went out, diverting electricity to the perimeter. A humming sound started emanating from deep within the structure as gates went up. Spikes lifted next along the back perimeter walls. Kane tossed the phone onto the bed, along with the t-shirt. Snagged his 9mm from the nightstand drawer. Shoved it into the back of his trunks. Pushed a pair of sunglasses onto his face next. He didn’t open his door. He slammed through it. Two doors down looked like a very long way. He smacked into her door with a shoulder, knocking it off hinges, as well. For nothing.

  The space was empty.

  Just like his head must be.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Wow.

  This was the life.

  Too bad it wasn’t hers.

  LeeAnn closed her eyes. Soaked up rays. Floated aimlessly. She was out at the pool. She
wasn’t poolside. She was floating on it, atop an inflated lounger-thing. Sucking up this decadent lifestyle, even it if wasn’t hers.

  Then again, she could pretend that she belonged. Who would care? Not that Jezzie person. Oh. Wait. The woman preferred to be called Jezebel. That was the first thing she’d said after Kane set LeeAnn onto her feet, started unwrapping the sheet from about her, and then left the women together.

  Oddly enough, LeeAnn had immediately missed him. Felt vulnerable. Unsure. And really leery. Jezebel wasn’t much help. The woman didn’t appear to have a bone in her body devoted to altruism or charity. The vibes coming off her had been positively chilly. She hadn’t appeared pleased with the summons. Or LeeAnn. It felt weird being around someone who disliked her on sight. Then again, everything about this morning’s events had that problem.

  Complete weirdness.

  Jezebel had the strangest eyes, too. So dark, they were almost black. Soulless-looking. LeeAnn had glanced at her once and then avoided it. Besides, somebody had ordered up a breakfast tray with all kinds of great-smelling and tasty-looking selections. She didn’t know who. She didn’t even know who’d brought it. And, wonder of wonders! They’d even included a carafe of coffee.

  She could definitely get used to this lifestyle.

  Some time ago, she and Chad had discussed what it would be like to live in the same manner as some of their clients. Surrounded by luxury. Not having to worry. Someone else around to handle everything. Mortgage issues. Utility payments. Student loan debt. Insurance. Chad had been the instigator of the conversations. He’d done spreadsheets and tacked them onto the office walls, each one devoted to a different strategy toward his goal. There was one for playing the stock market. Another for real estate investment. Another for the pricing structure with their clients. It had been his idea to use a sliding scale. If the client had big bucks, they got charged more.

  LeeAnn had ceased arguing over it. Chad had control issues with women. It wasn’t worth a blood pressure spike to argue with him. He charmed the socks off everyone he met. Nobody complained about their bill. And – she had to admit – the extra income was useful. She just wished they’d raised rates across the board. Made it fair. She’d thought of discussing that, but Chad was hard to pin down anymore. Come to think of it...they hadn’t spoken for some time. She’d had to set up this morning’s meeting via email. He’d moved out of Fall River. Given her a PO Box number to use for any business correspondence. She wasn’t even sure where he lived.

  She’d been so naïve!

  She should have gone to the authorities the moment she noted the odd account fluctuations. That would have been the intelligent thing to do. But what had she done? Set up a breakfast meeting to discuss the problem. With a man who had this much to lose?

  She might have to adjust her thinking here. Naivety was too nice of a word.

  LeeAnn paddled slightly. The pool was immense. Shaped like a big, fat snake, wending its way about the backyard, or whatever they called this area. There was a shallow zone. The rest of the pool was pretty deep. She didn’t know how deep, for certain. It wasn’t marked on the sides or anything. Beautiful blue water. Perfect temperature. Just cool enough to soothe a sun-warmed body if she dove in. That might prove too much for the bikini Jezebel had brought her, however. LeeAnn might as well be wearing elastic bands. The top was so tight it restricted her breathing.

  All of which was her fault.

  Jezebel had asked her size while LeeAnn was shoving big bites of ham and cheese omelet into her mouth. The woman sounded snide as she’d correctly pegged LeeAnn as an eight. Stupidity had kicked in. LeeAnn had instantly stated that she wore a size six, thank you very much. This is what she’d reaped: A neon yellow bikini bound to make her skin look sallow, and bonus! Nothing came with a string tie she could let out. Or even a range of adjustments with clasps. She’d never shown off this much skin. But she wasn’t letting Jezebel know that it bothered her.

  Oh.

  No way.

  LeeAnn had just gone to the bathroom, tugged the suit on, made a face at her reflection, and then returned. Jezebel hadn’t said a word as LeeAnn picked at the rest of her omelet, foregoing even a bite from the display of frosting-covered cinnamon rolls, or the strawberry-glazed crepes, the stack of sausage links. She hadn’t touched the mouthwatering pile of bacon. She’d even passed on the perfectly toasted wheat bread.

  She probably should have eaten more. Her belly rumbled as she thought it. Breakfast felt like hours ago, but it couldn’t be.

  This lazy lifestyle altered time or something. Slowed it to a crawl. Then again, she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t wear a watch. That’s one thing she used her phone for. It couldn’t be noon yet. The sun hadn’t reached its highest point. Last check of the area revealed small shadows around the lounge furniture and the areas that contained foliage. Heat radiated from the ground, distorting the view slightly. She should probably go sit beside the pool. Find some shade.

  And she would.

  In a minute.

  This just felt so damned sinful. Decadent. She yawned, and then shook herself. She daren’t fall asleep! A slight bit of tan was one thing. A full-fledged sunburn something else. Her fingers trailed through the water as if she did this every day. And then an odd buzzing sound caught her attention. LeeAnn looked up, lifted a hand to shade her eyes, and checked. There were two small airborne things just above the palm-tree line. They flew side-by-side. Like little helicopters. And that was just cute.

  Somebody played with remote-controlled toys around here?

  “LeeAnn! Dive!”

  What might be Kane came sprinting from the house. LeeAnn’s jaw dropped. He was wearing sunglasses. His hair wasn’t bound. It was straight and glossy and black. About mid-back length. She’d guessed he was fit, but she’d been way off. The guy was unbelievably ripped. And wearing way too little. She didn’t even know the names of some of the muscles rippling beneath his tanned skin as he raced toward her.

  “Get in the water!”

  If he wanted to make sense, he needed to put some clothing on. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t even take it all in. LeeAnn sat up, drenching her butt and thighs as the raft thing bowed in the center. Kane wasn’t paying any attention to her. He had a gun in one hand and was shooting toward the toy-things. While running?

  The water started jumping as it got pebbled with projectiles. The float took a hit. Started whistling as air escaped. And that’s when she knew what was happening. Someone was shooting at her!

  With real bullets!

  Shock made her clumsy. Shaky. None of which helped in a life-or-death situation. LeeAnn rolled off the deflating float while the water continually erupted about her. One of the helicopters exploded overhead. And then she watched, with wide, unblinking eyes, as Kane launched through the air in a distance-spanning dive.

  LeeAnn sucked in a breath just before he slammed into her. His arrival shoved her several feet under the water, beneath the burst of bubbles at his entrance, down to where all kinds of white lines of foam were splicing through water. They were the bullet paths as they lost momentum in the water. For the span of a heartbeat, she watched the scene, recognizing that this looked exactly like what she’d seen in movies.

  And then adrenaline kicked in.

  She’d been above a deep section. It didn’t feel deep enough. LeeAnn dove, steadily swimming down, not stopping until she reached the pool bottom. Kane hadn’t followed. His legs were kicking from what looked like a long way above her as he maintained a position. What was he? Returning fire? That was ridiculous. Guns didn’t fire underwater.

  Did they?

  The white foam lines stopped. Disappeared. LeeAnn let an air bubble out. Another followed. She swallowed next, holding air in, trying for time. Her ears popped. Her lungs were starting to burn. She knew she couldn’t stay here much longer. And then Kane loomed out of the space at one side, grabbed her, and shot upward. Toward the surface.

  And air. Sunlight. Life.
<
br />   He lifted her above the waterline, and held her there so she could pull in air. As adrenaline waned, weakness took its place. Her arms and legs felt like limp spinach, and emotion sapped what was left of her strength. Oh. Crap. She refused to cry. There had to be a better emotion available. Easily grabbed. And there was. Red hot. Heated. Completely illogical.

  Anger.

  Kane surfaced beside her, sending a wake of water. Wet. Big. Black hair framed his face and shoulders. He was actually still wearing his sunglasses. And that was just full-out ridiculous.

  “You okay?”

  “No! I am not okay!”

  He swam to the side, hauling her along. He might have been gentle. It didn’t feel it. Her waist felt like a vise was around it. And then he pivoted, put both hands about her midriff and set her on her butt atop tile so sun-heated, the water off her bottom sizzled. But her only other option was the soles of her feet. LeeAnn jumped up, and started hopping about, trying like hell not to cry. One of the helicopter things had disintegrated, making a trail of blackened pieces about what had been pristine tile. She couldn’t spot the other one.

  “Now what?”

  Kane loomed out of the water, and rose beside her. He didn’t have any trouble with hot tile. Because he had wet-shoes on.

  “I told you I’m not okay! Didn’t you hear me?”

  “You’re yelling at me,” he replied without inflection.

  “Yeah? So?”

  “You sound like you’re fine.”

  Something exploded behind her, sending a palm frond onto a table. And when that collapsed, the entire thing hit the patio. LeeAnn squealed, leapt, and latched onto Kane’s middle with both arms. And just stayed there, hugging him. She hadn’t planned it, but her feet ended up atop his, and that was one really nice bonus to this embrace. He also felt pretty good. Stable. Warm. Muscled. Alive.