Huntress Bound

by Aimee Easterling

  Only I wasn’t to be privy to the answer. “Come on,” the sole female told me, nudging my shoulder ever so slightly as she turned on her heel and strode away from the assembled males. “Let’s go gossip,” she called back over one shoulder, apparently so used to being ignored during similar conferences that she’d preemptively dismissed herself.

  I, on the other hand, wasn’t about to be ejected from a discussion regarding my own mate’s upcoming rescue. Still, when Malachi narrowed his eyes by way of warning, I felt something deeper running through the pack bond between us. A promise of confidences kept, a request for my absence so he could win these males’ regard.

  And in the end, I had no choice but to trust. Malachi was my ally and more aware of the consequences of our current situation than I was. I’d be an idiot to ignore his experience for the sake of feminist pride.

  So I turned on my heel and followed the female away from the pack. But I didn’t have to like it.

  Chapter 15

  The other female—Dakota—and I didn’t gossip, of course. Instead, we ended up tossing knives into a tree that didn’t particularly deserve the violence of our competition, focusing the other half of our attention on the conversation taking place just out of range of shifter ears.

  Under other circumstances, our physical rivalry would have been engrossing. But it was maddening to rely on scents alone to guess what was taking place on the far side of the meadow. Beyond frustrating to be left wondering whether Malachi and Troy were considering every possibility or were going off on wild tangents bound to get me—and my mate—killed.

  Which might be why Dakota caved and began offering up clues before the sun had moved more than two fingers’ width across the sky.

  “You’re skating on thin ice, you know,” the other female warned me, eyes never leaving her target as she drew back one arm and released a blade into the wild. It soared through the air, spinning gently around its horizontal axis, then thunked into the tree so solidly a spray of wood chips fell beneath its assault.

  Dakota was definitely good with a blade...but, then again, so was I. “One inch above,” I answered, calling the location of my next mark rather than replying to her inciting comment. Then, without taking the time to aim, I released my own dagger, watching carefully as my aunt’s lessons finally bore fruit. The knife vibrated as it stuck in wood precisely one inch above Dakota’s last throw, satisfaction making my lips curl upward into a wide smile.

  Point proven, I glanced sideways and deigned to take the bait at last. “Thin ice, huh? I take it your mate is an enforcer just like Malachi?”

  Dakota hesitated, clearly torn between telling me what I already knew—that Troy wasn’t actually her mate—and what I didn’t—how I’d gotten onto the Tribunal’s radar in the first place and how I might manage to wriggle back off. As a result, I was pleased to see that while the female’s next knife flew true, her words were less carefully chosen.

  “This is our region,” she informed me, not bothering to turn her head as she walked away to collect her weapons. Despite her forward momentum, though, my companion’s words were perfectly clear as she continued along her track. “We should have been the ones in charge of reining you in in the first place. But Malachi called in a favor and Troy ceded the gig. Now he’s back and wants our help.”

  I joined the other shifter by the tree, wiggling my knives out of the wood carefully so I didn’t damage razor-sharp edges. Dakota’s annoyance was like a fresh chocolate ganache, I realized, spilling over to fill every available space before cool air caused the glossy surface to harden into an impenetrable glaze. My job was to keep her running hot so all available information found time to ooze its way out.

  To that end, I murmured a pointed “Wolves always give way to power” while wiping my final knife clean against one pant leg. Nothing like a dose of back-biting commentary to get on a shifter’s nerves.

  Predictably, Dakota balked at the insinuation that Troy was bowing down beneath Malachi’s superior alpha dominance. “It’s not like that,” she countered. “We three go way back. We care about each other. We’re as close as enforcers come to a pack.”

  And that was a surprise. Not that it should have been since I knew next to nothing about my cousin’s life between the time when he left Haven and the moment he showed back up at the coffee shop this morning. So I merely hummed, not wanting to break the flow of whatever disclosures Dakota might feel inclined to dish out.

  To my satisfaction, silence did the trick this time around. My companion had sheathed two of her knives before I joined her, but the final one now lowered to prick through the thin fabric of my shirt. And Dakota backed up the overt threat with equally aggressive words.

  “You might not care,” she hissed, leaning in until I felt the blade pierce my skin and raise a single drop of blood. “But Malachi’s put his neck on the line for you. He told the Tribunal you were his to manage. And they replied that, if so, then your actions reflect upon him.”

  I accepted the female’s physical threat calmly, knowing she wouldn’t harm me—at least not much—while I was a guest of her bosom buddy. Instead, I continued with my theme of low-level annoyance, gazing over her head as if bored by the knife hovering above my rapidly beating heart.

  Only, my supposed disinterest backfired. Because my eyes snagged on the males whose decision-making would soon affect the lives of both me and my mate. And their body language struck me at last as indicating more than mere rivalry.

  Whatever deep discussion had come before was now drawing to a close, and it ended far more cordially than it had begun. Malachi pulled his companion in for a half-hug, thumping Troy on the back. Meanwhile, the latter gripped my cousin’s upper arm tightly yet affectionately, whispering something that made both men laugh aloud.

  I wanted to know more about this brotherhood that bound my cousin to an unrelated male. Wanted to pick away at Dakota’s defenses until she spilled her guts in one long gush of ill-considered words. But we’d nearly run out of time, I realized, as an underling peeled away from the grouping, presumably intending to call the females back to heel.

  Luckily, my current companion hadn’t noticed the imminent end to our enforced solitude. Instead, she leaned in closer, the pressure turning a minor pinprick into a thin edge of pain as her blade slid up over my collarbone and around to the side of my neck.

  “You’ve risked Malachi’s job and his life,” she growled. “Now he’s asked Troy for help as well, which means your cousin has involved our entire pack. Whatever you’re up to had better be worth it. Because if you get either one of my boys hurt, I’ll make sure to return the favor. In spades.”

  Chapter 16

  “So, what do we owe them in exchange for their support?” I asked half an hour later as Malachi and I once again followed the highway west toward the far terminus of my half-formed mate bond. I’d expected jabs of pain to turn into red-hot pokers of agony during our enforced layover. But, instead, the bond had gone unaccountably quiescent more than an hour ago...a sensation that I was trying not to consider ominous.

  It was hard to ignore the might-be’s, though, when my current partner in crime remained silent, his eyes firmly riveted on the road. I, on the other hand, was less focused. Wolf-like, I checked out the motorcycle on our left flank then tried to peer in through the tinted windows of a passing SUV. The former was a member of our unofficial entourage. The latter? Who knew.

  With so many dangers breathing down our necks, Malachi and I couldn’t afford to be at odds. So I broke the cardinal rule of friends-only and laid my hand on my companion’s arm before the silence between us could turn cold and brittle. “Malachi,” I said quietly, imbuing his name with every ounce of the shared experiences that had bonded us as children...and at the same time reminding him of my previous question.

  And this time, he deigned to answer. “You owe them nothing,” my cousin growled. Then, changing the subject with the skill of a born wolf, he dove into the heart of my deeper worries
instead. “Any differences in your gut?”

  “No,” I started. But even as I spoke, my wolf began whimpering deep down inside my body, the bond drawing tight across her skin. “Actually,” I backpedaled. “I think we need to take the next exit....”

  And even though we’d almost passed the turnoff already, Malachi flashed his lights twice to alert Troy’s pack to the change of plans while slamming on his own brakes. Angry motorists streamed past as our SUV slipped into the exit lane, then we rolled downhill into a small settlement consisting of two gas stations, a few fast-food restaurants, and a road that quickly disappeared from view as it led into the trees.

  “There?” Malachi asked, peering ahead of us into the expanse of greenery that seemed strangely ominous despite my usual affinity for woodland. Glancing over one shoulder, I saw that the motorcycle hadn’t followed us off the highway. Which meant we were entirely alone. Just me, my cousin, and a bond tugging me deeper into that menacing forest.

  “I think so,” I answered, my voice quiet. I’d taken so long to reply, though, that we were already underneath the trees by this point. Scrubby second growth gave way to stately specimens in moments, then the canopy shading the road turned so dense that I was forced to turn off the AC.

  Rather than jumping to the obvious conclusion—that SHRITA had deeper roots and deeper pockets than I’d initially assumed if they’d built a base including acres of ancient woodland—I returned to the original topic Malachi had tried so skillfully to evade. “I owe Troy’s pack nothing?” I prodded. “Because you and Dakota are friends?”

  And my tenacity appeared to amuse my cousin, because Malachi breathed out so abruptly through his nose that the snort nearly became a laugh. “Is that what she said?” he growled. “Then I guess we are.”

  I waited for further information, but none appeared to be forthcoming. So after a moment of consideration, I turned to other avenues of investigation, leaving Malachi with his secrets intact.

  First step—powering up the GPS to find out whether my suspicions about our current location might be unfounded. After all, we could be driving through a human park at this very moment. In which case maybe Sebastien and I weren’t in as deep trouble as I was beginning to suspect....

  Strangely, the device informed me that we were passing through farmland, the map even going so far as to show roads branching off to the right and left that didn’t appear to exist in real life. My eyebrows drew together as I tried to match up puzzle pieces that didn’t quite belong together. Perhaps satellite reception was scanty here and the GPS was lagging behind our actual location. Or maybe...?

  “Turn around.” Wolfie’s voice filled the car, emanating from built-in speakers even though I was pretty sure I’d never synced my phone to the radio or accepted this particular call from my tech-savvy father. “You just dropped out of view on the satellite imagery and I’m afraid...”

  Only I never learned what the always-brave alpha had found to be afraid of. Because his voice disappeared...and at the exact same moment men bearing rifles began stepping out of the trees before, behind, and on either side of our slow-moving SUV.

  Malachi had driven us directly into a trap.

  FOR HALF A SECOND, I doubted my cousin’s intentions. Then Malachi shot me a look so wounded that I knew he’d scented my misgivings in the air...or felt them through our vaguely present pack bond. And in response my good sense returned with a jolt.

  Of course Malachi hadn’t driven us into this ambush on purpose. His job involved keeping werewolves hidden from human view, not delivering us into the hands of an agency that likely intended to put our wolves to use as weapons. Meanwhile, the men around us—although as dangerous-looking as any shifters—definitely bore no lupine skin.

  And, now that I thought about the issue more rationally, I realized that Wolfie would have erected metaphorical (or possibly literal) roadblocks if he had any doubts about my cousin’s intentions. All evidence pointed toward Malachi being on the up and up, and I bit my lip in chagrin before apologizing. “I shouldn’t have doubted you....”

  “Not a problem,” my cousin interrupted even as he rolled down his window and turned to face the outside world. Because we’d run out of time to rebuild our partnership. Even now, the lead soldier was stepping forward, rifle resting against his shoulder but hands never straying far from the trigger as he waited impatiently on the other side of the thin sheet of glass.

  “Sir,” the camouflage-wearing man began once the transparent barrier had retreated back into the door. But Malachi the chameleon didn’t give his companion enough time to provide information we’d be better off pretending not to know.

  “Hunting season already?” my cousin asked instead, willfully ignoring the other agents who hovered just out of sight at the edge of the trees. And, now that I thought about it, maybe it was believable to think that the three males encircling the front of our SUV were merely hunters. Maybe city dwellers unfamiliar with the steady yet tense bearing of trained soldiers would have made that exact same mistake.

  Malachi and I certainly weren’t so naive. But the agent who’d approached us seemed to fall for our lie...tentatively at least. “It’s always squirrel season,” the male agreed, fingers moving a little further away from the trigger as his muscles eased. “What are you folks doing so far out in the woods anyway? Lost?”

  “I didn’t think so,” Malachi responded sheepishly. “But then the GPS conked out....”

  “He hates asking for directions,” I interjected, playing along even as I caught glimpses of additional soldiers out of the corner of one eye. There were more enemies present than I’d initially thought, I now realized, and the ones behind our backs didn’t bother to hide their aggressiveness from view. Instead, a laser dot glowed red on the back of Malachi’s skull and I had no doubt a similar target marked my own.

  I shivered, well aware that neither my cousin nor I were able to dodge speeding bullets. Malachi, on the other hand, remained as relaxed as a kitten napping in a sunbeam.

  “The last time I asked for directions, we ended up way on the other side of the state,” my cousin complained, lips quirking at what was intended to sound like an inside joke but was actually a reminder to me to stay in character. “Folks just tell you whatever they think you want to hear half the time. Give me a good map and I can get us where we want to go.”

  I rolled my eyes in response, playing along while waiting to see where my cousin would take us. Because my heart was beating too rapidly for clear thought. Luckily, Malachi seemed to have the smoke and mirrors well under control.

  “My fiancée and I are out house hunting,” he explained, returning his attention to the soldier who was now leaning companionably against the side of our SUV. At least my cousin’s charm seemed to be working on the point man, even if the other ambushers remained tense and ready to attack. “She said I could choose the house if I let her choose the ring. Which one do you think will cost more?”

  A burst of laughter emanated from one of the more distant males, and the leader’s iron face melted into a hint of a smile as my companion’s words registered. “Bad move there, buddy,” he offered, bending down so he could clap Malachi on the shoulder.

  And even though the gesture appeared friendly, I tensed, half expecting the soldier to sniff out our fear as he leaned into the car. Only the male wasn’t a shifter. So he could only depend upon the evidence of his eyes...evidence that Malachi had primed to appear as innocuous as possible.

  “I’m pretty sure there aren’t any houses for sale up this road,” the male said at last, offering me an honest smile before straightening back up. “And it’s getting close to dark....” he added, clearly intent upon hurrying us back in the direction from which we’d come.

  “We should have hit the place already if it was down this way,” I agreed, consulting a scrap of paper that was actually our receipt from lunch but which, in my playacting mind, contained the address of a perfect honeymoon cottage complete with white picket fence an
d trellised rose garden. “If you don’t know the way to Mill Creek Road, we can backtrack to the nearest gas station and buy a map....”

  “Finally, a map!” Malachi emoted. And I grinned, remembering our shared childhood when my cousin had always overacted at the last moment and lost whatever benefit our former sleight of hand had won.

  Luckily, these soldiers knew us far less well than my parents had. “Good luck with the house hunting,” the point man offered, meeting Malachi’s eyes. “And with the ring,” he added, turning toward me.

  “Good luck with the squirrels,” my cousin countered, putting the SUV back into gear and making a slow and ungainly three-point turn that carried us back in the direction from which we’d come.

  And as the vehicle drifted forward, then back, then forward once again, that menacing dot slid across my cousin’s nose, his ear, and ended at last in the middle of his forehead. My own dot, I suspected, was making a similar peregrination, and I found myself unable to breathe until we’d flung gravel out from under our tires and were safely rolling around the bend out of sight.

  Malachi, on the other hand, was quietly exuberant. “We found it,” he murmured, eyes alight with pleasure. And despite the quietness of his words, my cousin’s tone was that of a hunter who possessed easy prey within his sights.

  Chapter 17

  I expected Malachi to pull over as soon as the GPS matched back up with our surroundings. After all, we now knew the location of our target, so it was time to scout the lay of the land then free my kidnapped mate.

  But, instead, my cousin kept driving, this time in the wrong direction for the sake of my increasingly antsy wolf. Despite her efforts to dull the pain, in fact, the ache within my gut kicked back into gear as the mate bond tightened between me and Sebastien. And once again, I found it difficult to think of anything beyond the possibility of the tether snapping and leaving me entirely bereft of my newfound mate.