Huntress Bound

by Aimee Easterling

  Then a heavy hand landed on my shoulder, bringing my attention around with a jolt. Time to see if the uniform works, I thought, allowing myself to be swung in a circle until I faced a human as tall and broad as Malachi and with an equally menacing furrow to his brow.

  This particular male sported gold bars on his shoulders, though, and his bearing alone would have told me he was an alpha. Leader, I reminded myself. Think human.

  “Where’s your rifle?” the male demanded, his voice boasting an intensity nearly equal to a pack leader’s command. “Where are your goggles?”

  Despite the menace inherent in my companion’s posture, my ramrod-stiff spine relaxed just a trifle as I realized the stolen uniform had done the trick. “Back at my bunk,” I lied, casting eyes downward submissively as the scent of annoyance filled the air.

  “Eyes forward, private!” the male shouted directly into my ear. And, with an effort, I forced myself to obey his command. Alpha werewolves considered eye contact the worst form of insolence in a situation like this, but apparently a human soldier was expected to stand steady and look directly into her commanding officer’s eyes. So I gathered my courage and complied.

  Apparently, that obedience was all it took to get the officer off my back. His gaze immediately began wandering to the people streaming past us on every side, and I could tell the moment he grew bored with me in favor of another soldier whose appearance wasn’t up to code. “Grab your gear and hit your post,” my accoster told me, enunciating clearly as if to a child. “This isn’t a drill.”

  Then the male was gone, stomping off into the midst of the stampede and picking another soldier to waylay in the process. The current kerfuffle might not have been a drill, but this officer clearly wasn’t terribly concerned if he was taking the time to nitpick lower-level personnel’s inappropriate attire or lack of personal hygiene. Which meant I might just have time to find and free my mate after all.

  To that end, I emulated the soldiers around me, walking with purpose toward the small brick building around which Sebastien’s scent had hung. And, as I did so, a distant sound caught my attention, barely audible beneath the continued blare of the alarm.

  The quieter tone resembled the call of a screech owl. Tremulous rising and lowering whistles that might put those unfamiliar with local wildlife in mind of the fictional howl of a ghost. This particular sound, though, was neither spirit-driven nor owl-created. Instead, I grinned as I recognized one of the many signals Malachi and I had shared as mischievous children. This particular indicator meant “Ready. In place and waiting for your response.”

  A hard, tense knot in my stomach relaxed at the realization that my cousin was out there somewhere, waiting for my reply. Because I’d ditched Malachi without a word of explanation, had proven that I didn’t trust him to put my needs above the duties mandated by his Tribunal-led job. And yet...my cousin had come through for me anyway. I suspected he’d been the one to trigger the current alarm, that he’d somehow talked Troy into providing a diversion and was now waiting for my cue to unleash the next step.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford to reply in kind, not with humans milling around and ready to pounce on the first sign of strange behavior. Instead, I squared my shoulders and marched up to Sebastien’s door, hoping against hope that this particular barrier would be as easy to surpass as the laundry room’s entranceway had been.

  But Sebastien’s building was, unfortunately, very securely locked.

  Hesitating on the doorstep, I ran through my options, unsure where to turn next. Talking my way into possession of the key would be difficult when my borrowed uniform barely held up under scrutiny amidst the current flurry of activity and moonless dark. Meanwhile, breaking a window would be a bad idea when surrounded by dozens of humans just waiting for a sign of attack.

  While I was pondering the issue, however, I heard movement on the other side of the barrier. A light came on inside the building, the glow streaming out through the crack beneath the door to lick at my bare feet.

  Then the knob turned beneath my hand through no effort of my own. The door swung inward...and I looked up at last into my mate’s long-yearned-for face.

  Chapter 21

  Sebastien didn’t ask what I was doing there. Didn’t flutter and worry over my SHRITA uniform or my lack of shoes. Instead, the professor’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, then he grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.

  The door clicked closed behind my back, shutting out the noise and excitement that currently filled the overactive base. And in the sudden silence, I found myself sucking in great gulps of Sebastien’s scent as if I’d been drowning and was just now breaking the surface that allowed me to breathe.

  Old books, warm sunlight, fresh air. His signature aroma enfolded me like a pack mate’s arms, and I leaned into Sebastien’s presence to soak up more of his strength.

  Unfortunately, increased proximity illuminated regrettable relics of my mate’s recent kidnapping, which threatened to quell my enjoyment of the moment. Aromas of anger and fear were hidden between the folds of my mate’s clothing and half a dozen scents of manhandling humans emanating from his unwashed skin. Meanwhile, a bruise swelled atop Sebastien’s left cheekbone, prompting a sub-audible growl from my overprotective wolf.

  Still, the professor was standing easily, his head cocked to one side as he took in my presence as avidly as I’d considered his own. And the mere knowledge that our partner was finally within arm’s reach coiled the tether within my gut round and round until it tugged taut yet gentle against my companion’s soul. For a moment, we were true, bonded partners.

  I could have sworn Sebastien felt the joining as strongly as I did because his eyes widened briefly. But then he swiveled away, turning both door lock and deadbolt before flicking off the overhead light so we were once again shrouded in near-total darkness.

  “Best make it look like I’m still asleep,” he murmured, pulling me deeper into the room and away from the door. Heavy blinds had been drawn down across the windows while brick walls muffled the pounding of nearby feet, making it easy to pretend we were entirely alone. And even with my wolf assisting my human vision, it was now too dark to truly see. So I depended on the warm linkage of Sebastien’s hand to guide me painlessly through the cluttered space.

  To my surprise, my mate was as unerring as any wolf, sidestepping all encumbrances with ease. And, sure, the building was a single room, so small I’d been able to take in the entire expanse quite easily before the lights went out. Even the toilet was open to view, located in one corner beside a rust-stained sink. As guest accommodations went, the building wasn’t far removed from a prison cell.

  But there was furniture. A sofa, a bed, a small table complete with two wooden chairs. Despite the darkness, Sebastien led me so mindfully between these potential obstacles that I didn’t stub a single toe before we settled together on the soft, velvety surface of the couch.

  And even though sinking onto the cushions beside my mate reminded me of waking in his arms on a different sofa not so long before, I couldn’t relax into the moment. Not when questions were running fast as wolf feet through my busy mind.

  I’d squashed my doubts while tracking my absent partner, but now I was forced to recall the numerous aspects of our previous encounters that didn’t quite make sense. Why and how had Sebastien helped me land the coffee-shop job before we even met? And what information had my mate been withholding this morning—merely the memory of Mr. Shepard’s email or something more profound?

  Meanwhile, new niggling suspicions arose based on the lax security of this small room. How did my mate come to be battered and captive...yet living within a space that locked from the inside? Was it possible that my own entrance to the headquarters had been so easily accomplished because the location constituted a carefully baited trap?

  Don’t doubt our mate, my wolf whispered, urging me toward the human whose proximity acted on my serotonin receptors like a psychoactive drug. She brushed up against Sebas
tien’s side, pressing closer inch by inch until our entire body had eased into the space beneath his arm and matched our companion from shoulder down to toe.

  And, in the process, my wolf answered the worst of my questions in the best possible way. Like me, Sebastien was barefoot...but a hard metal object banged against my ankle bone as my foot sought out his own. Meanwhile, my motion rucked up the hem of my companion’s trousers, revealing a gently blinking LED light.

  Sebastien had been tagged like a house-bound criminal, I realized, locked into an ankle bracelet that presumably tracked his every move. No wonder his captors hadn’t bothered to secure his door from the outside—the tracker would alert them the moment he left the small room. But would his guards also know what he did inside his personal space?

  “Is it safe to talk?” I asked, my words a mere whisper of sound. Sebastien leaned in closer to hear, and I could barely make out his profile before our noses bumped together in the dark.

  Soft warmth of skin on skin. A large hand rising up and slipping into my hair to steady me. I melted like a puddle of microwaved milk chocolate before Sebastien even opened his lips to reply.

  “I think so,” he answered. And if our mate hadn’t been so close, perhaps the sensation of his breath against our cheek wouldn’t have set off my inner wolf. Perhaps we would have stuck to business and found a way out of this den while the outside world was going crazy all around us and while Malachi was waiting beyond the perimeter to assist in our escape.

  As it was, my rational brain had no time in which to act. Instead, my wolf seized control of my body once more. She twisted lightly beneath Sebastien’s grip, turning our chin so our faces fit together mouth to mouth. Then, pressing closer, we kissed.

  DESPITE BEING HALFWAY bonded in a partnership more serious than human marriage, the only other kiss in which Sebastien and I had indulged was the merest brush of his lips against the back of my hand two days prior. The entire incident had taken place in front of an audience of surly shifters, and I couldn’t be entirely certain at the time that my mate-to-be possessed any intention beyond riling up the bystanders.

  Now, though, we were entirely alone. And my heart sank as Sebastien drew away from my inner wolf’s forwardness, his lips easing back to leave mine cold and bare. “Ember,” he started, the word a mere breath of heated air. “There are so many things I need to tell you. Your job, for instance....”

  I shivered, hating to be separated from my mate’s skin for even a second. And my wolf must have felt the same way. Because she seized control, rushing through Sebastien’s explanation so we could return to the good part—kissing.

  “Derek told you I’d be coming to town, didn’t he?” my wolf suggested. Because she and I had been mulling over our ex-boss’s revelations ever since leaving the coffee shop. My brother was the obvious connection between Sebastien and myself, so he was also the obvious reason Sebastien would have helped me land that much-coveted job.

  “Yes,” my mate answered, and I wished I could have seen his face in the darkness. Because I sensed something deeper hidden beneath his one-word reply.

  But my companion wasn’t done speaking quite yet. He paused, then asked a question I’d been dreading ever since we first met. “Is there something you need to tell me? Something about...” —our mate cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed to be speaking such an unscientific word— “...superpowers maybe?”

  This, I realized, was my opportunity to come clean. My chance to trust Sebastien enough to tell him about my lupine nature and finally solidify our half-formed bond.

  But—he’s not ready, I decided, fingers slipping up onto our mate’s shoulders before sliding across the seam of his shirt in an attempt to tunnel through the encircling fabric. A revelation as profound as the existence of my inner wolf needed to be eased into, needed to be presented within a safe setting. Here in the SHRITA compound, my first misstep could result in life-changing consequences beyond either of our ability to control. I simply couldn’t afford to take the risk.

  So I evaded the question as best I could without resorting to an outright lie. “I can’t leap tall buildings,” I breathed, slipping my fingers up under my mate’s collar until they contacted bare flesh. “I can’t see through walls or shoot spider webs out of my fingers.” The aforementioned digits dropped down to the first button on Sebastien’s shirt, exposing a tantalizing expanse of chest to view. “I’m as human as you are,” I concluded as my fingers skimmed across Sebastien’s naked skin. “I promise.”

  Chapter 22

  My words weren’t really a lie, I decided. Because I was entirely human...except when I was a wolf.

  And Sebastien must have accepted my reassurances at face value. Because the broad hand currently cradling the back of my head tightened against my hair, pulling me even closer into his personal space. And this time when our lips met, I could almost see sparks flying through the darkness between us.

  My wolf and I both basked in the sensation. The barest hint of stubble lined Sebastien’s formerly clean-shaven jaw, the rasp of newly emerged hairs teasing against my overly sensitized skin. I was suddenly aware of every inch of my body, aware of the way my companion’s fingers bit into my skull while my own hands curled vainly into fists in an effort not to take this joining too far and too fast.

  Vaguely, I noted something happening to our invisible tether as Sebastien’s lips parted beneath my own. The fingers of his left hand rose to stroke against the side of my cheek, sending a tingle down the entire length of my body. And at the same moment, the intangible thread of our shared mate bond wound and intertwined, swirling around our torsos and binding us together in a single, unassailable whole.

  Sebastien wasn’t overtly choosing me, of course. I was aware of this fact even as I swung a leg across to straddle my companion’s hips, sinking further into his warm, welcome acceptance in the process. But our mate bond was drawing closer even as his hand skimmed down the side of my neck and across the ridge of my collarbone, raising goosebumps in its wake. He was tightening the tether and giving our partnership a firmer foundation with every mewling moan he drew from my lips. And my own kisses were similarly building a bridge that Sebastien might someday choose to walk across.

  Then I lost track of the larger picture as my mate’s aerial flavor shifted, books and sunlight giving way to a rich chocolatey aroma seasoned with the barest hint of zesty lemon peel. A werewolf’s signature scent was set in stone...or at least in damp concrete...changing only gradually over the course of one’s lifetime if at all. But Sebastien’s more malleable human nature lent a flexibility to his aroma that could be described in only one word—delicious.

  My lupine half responded to the transitional scent by turning our head, breaking the lip lock that my human side couldn’t quite bear to leave behind. Still, I had to admit that her alternative was equally inspiring as we nibbled our way across our mate’s stubbled jaw, ending by suckling the lower curve of his well-placed ear. Sebastien tasted like dreams and love and pack all mixed into one, and I couldn’t get enough of the heady combination.

  Now it was our mate’s turn to breathe out a huff of surprised air, his fingers rising until they tightened on either side of my head and removed my teasing teeth from his bare skin. “Ember,” he growled, my name almost a moan as it emerged from eminently kissable lips. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  And, just like that, the chocolate scent of desire faded, to be replaced by the bookish aroma that had drawn me to Sebastien in the first place...but didn’t quite match my mood at the present moment. “I’m kissing you,” my wolf replied, trying to push our way back into the warmth of our partner’s embrace.

  Unfortunately, the professor didn’t succumb to our advances. Instead, he held us out at arm’s length, his inquisitive aroma growing stronger as he attempted to decipher our shared descent into animalistic appetite. “This is neither the time nor the place,” Sebastien started, his voice a throaty growl that spoke to his own desire to finish w
hat we’d started.

  But before we could hash out our differences and finish consolidating our mate bond, a crunch of boots on gravel froze me in place. And my wolf relinquished her single-minded intent upon Sebastien’s virtue at last when knuckles rapped against the nearest door.

  I WAS LOST IN A HAZE of attraction, confusion, and regret. Luckily, my mate thought significantly faster on his feet than I did.

  “Under the bed,” he breathed, hustling me across the pitch-dark room and guiding me quickly yet gently beneath the narrow cot.

  The sleeping berth had been in use before I arrived. Or so I assumed since the blankets were currently untucked, draping down over the edge and attempting to wrap me like a mummy as I slid into the dusty space. Yanking desperately at the fabric, though, I managed to wriggle my way through the gap as Sebastien’s quiet footsteps retreated toward the door. Then I drew the concealing bulk back in around me as a bulb flickered on overhead.

  Abrupt brightness left me blinking and second-guessing the wisdom of my far-too-obvious hiding place. But I had no time to choose another because Sebastien was already opening up the door and letting the visitor inside.

  Quiet, my wolf whispered, seizing control of my body and stilling the raspy breaths that were attempting to break their way free of my throat. Instead of retreating further into the darkness as I’d intended, though, she dropped our cheek down against the floorboards, peering out through the minuscule crack between blanket and ground. And my own interest abruptly matched hers as I saw who was waiting outside my mate’s temporary abode.

  Emmanuel Shepard. That part wasn’t entirely surprising, not after the older male had turned up on my mate’s doorstep twice already as well as emailing Sebastien the day before my brother disappeared. Still, the agent’s presence here in the middle of the night seemed out of character...and the two burly soldiers standing at attention behind his back did nothing to restore my peace of mind.