Huntress Bound

by Aimee Easterling

  This time, I could almost hear Wolfie smiling on the other end of the line. Could almost smell the fur when he agreed far too readily. “Diplomacy first.” Despite his congenial words, however, the underlying growl suggested my father would rip off heads and tear out throats if talking failed to clear my name.

  Which meant I needed to lay down the law. “Dad, I mean it,” I said as forcefully as I could manage. “Sebastien and I have a safe place to hole up. We’re going to take cover for a while and give this thing time to blow over. After that, we can reassess and make another plan.”

  I hesitated, not even daring to hint where we were going with enemies listening in. But if Wolfie had no way to contact me and no knowledge of my current location, he was likely to do something rash. What I needed was another project that Dad could sink his teeth into so he wasn’t sitting around at home worrying that I was walking into a trap....

  Which is when my brother’s words from that nearly-forgotten thumb drive circled back around through my head. “Sebastien Carter is a good egg,” Derek had said. “If you need help, go to him.”

  The advice on that rushed video had seemed so predictable at the time. After all, my brother had been crashing on Sebastien’s sofa before disappearing, and my soon-to-be mate had done everything in his power to set my cagey sibling at ease. Why wouldn’t Derek designate the professor a “good egg”?

  But my wolf was wide awake now, holding our body and soul together by the skin of her teeth. And to the lupine brain, Derek’s words sounded both stilted and foreign.

  Our brother prided himself in walking at the forefront of fashion, had always dressed for success while commanding the newest and hippest slang imaginable. In contrast, calling someone a “good egg” made my brother sound like a stodgy, nineteenth-century Brit.

  Which suggested that the phrase had actually been chosen with overwhelming care. Had, in fact, been a clue...perhaps intended to point me toward the key Dad needed to decode files that otherwise resembled nothing more than a string of gobbledygook?

  “Do you have someone stationed outside Sebastien’s house?” I asked abruptly, realizing as I spoke that this might very well have been what SHRITA was looking for in the first place. Because if the agents had been alerted the moment I plugged the thumb drive into Sebastien’s computer two nights earlier, then they would have been left gnawing on the same puzzle that had stumped me this entire time. Perhaps that was why they’d torn Sebastien’s house apart and stolen the professor away. Was his entire ill-fated kidnapping episode merely an effort to decipher my brother’s files?

  “Ye-es,” Dad said, his one-word response drawn out and careful as it cut into my whirling thoughts. The economy of words was meant as a warning for a wayward daughter, a reminder that I couldn’t safely return to the professor’s ransacked house if I valued the continuance of my own life.

  Rather than stating my understanding of the obvious, I launched into a command that wouldn’t have gone over well with any other pack leader. “I need you to send whoever you’ve got nearby into Sebastien’s kitchen and have them search around the egg cartons,” I demanded. “Now, before anyone else can do it. That’s where Derek hid the key.”

  Then I was pushing the “end” button and tossing the phone out the window at the same time Sebastien gunned the engine and sped further down the highway away from the site our pursuers would soon swarm. I’d done my best to bring us closer to finding my missing brother while preventing Dad from succumbing to parental stupidity. The gesture would have to be enough.

  UNLIKE ME, SEBASTIEN didn’t look like he’d been running for thirty hours without stopping. Maybe my mate had managed to sleep for a while within his cell. Or maybe he simply possessed a deeper reserve of energy than the one I’d exhausted within my own body. Whatever the reason, the Alphas’ Pinnacle was still a long drive away when my eyelids began to sag and my wolf began nudging at the inside of my skin. Let me out, she murmured.

  A couple of hours earlier, the beast had been too tired to push her way into existence even with permission. But now that Sebastien’s proximity and Wolfie’s approval had shored up my sagging self-respect, the beast scratched at my bones, driving them out of alignment and threatening to emerge right there in the front seat of Malachi’s SUV.

  Now is not the time, I told her, remembering the expression on Sebastien’s face the last time I’d allowed my inner animal free rein. The professor and I needed to maintain the tenuous connection we’d built long enough to win this race to safety. Only then could we deal with the deeper issues that threatened to drive us further apart.

  But my human half was barely conscious and my beast was adamant. Now, she intoned.

  And Sebastien must have picked up on my inner struggle because his hand reached across the console to settle in my lap. “What’s wrong?”

  “My wolf wants...” I started, then clenched my lips together to hide the fangs that were pushing their way out through the skin of my human gums. That wasn’t the sight my mostly-human companion needed to see after being chased and nearly killed by a pack of bloodthirsty wolves. That definitely wasn’t the impression bound to make him more likely to accept me as his mate.

  Only, this time the professor wasn’t fazed. “Let her come out then,” Sebastien answered easily. He motioned toward the now-empty expanse of highway that streamed out before us until it hit the western horizon without a single car in sight. “There’s no one here to notice. No one except me.”

  And for an instant, my mate’s formerly intent focus on the road lapsed long enough for his eyes to meet mine. Sebastien didn’t seem daunted by the prospect of my shift...and, for my part, I was no longer able to resist. So, with some trepidation, I relinquished control and allowed the wolf to begin pushing her way free.

  Still, I was apprehensive of the repercussions. I fully expected Sebastien to cringe away from the sight as he’d done once before. I braced myself for the slam of brakes followed by the cold emptiness of being left behind as our companion rushed out of the idling SUV and fled in the face of our monstrous presence.

  But deep chocolate orbs remained warm with acceptance even as hair sprouted from my cheeks and a snout emerged from my human chin. My mate’s left hand stayed steady on the steering wheel as my legs curved inward, my spine shortened, and my ears grew long and furred.

  By the time I’d wriggled out of both overlarge clothing and no-longer-ergonomic seatbelt, in fact, my paw was resting in Sebastien’s upturned hand. And based on that physical expression of his continued regard, I decided it was safe to take matters one step further. Cocking my lupine head to one side, I whined out a question.

  “Of course,” Sebastien answered, patting his thigh by way of invitation.

  I still half expected to be rebuffed as we slunk forward to accept the proffered spot. As if sensing my trepidation, though, Sebastien’s hand rose to settle atop the soft hairs on our forehead. His fingers rubbed gently, then found the itchy spot beneath our chin and scratched.

  “Sleep,” he urged us. “I’ll wake you when we get there.”

  In response, a long-withheld sigh emerged from the unattractive lips of my lupine snout. Relief, satisfaction, joy. My wolf and I might be packless and on the run from enforcers and government agents alike. But for the moment, nothing else mattered beyond the realization that Sebastien had fully accepted us for who we were.

  Human, partner, wolf. Our mate had let us into his heart at last.

  I HOPE YOU ENJOYED Huntress Bound! If so, the sequel—Rogue Huntress—is now available to buy or borrow. For a sneak preview, simply turn the page.

  Meanwhile, Wolfie’s first book, Shiftless, is free on all retailers. You can also download a free starter library when you sign up for my email list.

  Thanks for reading! You are why I write.

  Rogue Huntress

  Shifter teeth, human blood, glints of ivory against ravaged skin. I woke, gasping against the restraints that snugged limbs tight against my body, only to
find my lupine form swaddled by ungainly human clothing. The pants and shirt had fit perfectly when I first fell asleep and would again as soon as I....

  “Ember, don’t shift back!”

  My mate’s voice cut through the haze of returning reality, his deep tones underlain by the sweet scents of chocolate cake donuts combined with his personal bouquet of books, sandalwood, and wolfless man. Blinking watery eyes against the soft light of evening, I wriggled out of no-longer-useful clothing and came erect on all four paws in the passenger seat of my deceased cousin’s SUV.

  Before us, three cops walked down a line of stopped vehicles toward us. A tough-looking woman, a guy so skinny he verged on emaciated, and the stereotypical donut eater. They didn’t look particularly menacing, but....

  “Wolves or humans?” Sebastien asked, his voice filling with grim urgency. And despite the necessity to focus on current danger, the question sent me spinning backwards into a memory so vivid it might as well have been a continuation of my recent dream.

  Blood sprayed across my body like the fine mist from a malfunctioning juicer, my cousin’s form disappearing within a maelstrom of spinning stones and chunks of ripped-apart asphalt. Sebastien slammed me into the ground to protect my fragile body. But my companion couldn’t block the sight of an exploding bomb taking out both a government compound and a family member I’d known for my entire life.

  Meanwhile, on the other side of a thin line of night-darkened trees, Dakota’s pack howled a promise that no innocent bystanders would survive the ordeal. None except me and my not-quite-mate....

  Not that Sebastien and I had been entirely innocent by the time we fled the scene of the crime. We’d slain four werewolves during the course of our own escape, and now both angry government agents and surly shifters were hot on our trail.

  These advancing officers could be either or neither, another danger to overcome or merely one final roadblock on our path to a safe spot to spend the night. It was impossible to tell which while the SUV’s encircling metal cut off all outside air....

  I whined and pawed at the side window, hoping Sebastien would understand my wordless plea. All day long I’d dodged his questions, this most recent descent into lupine form a symptom of my subconscious desire to shut out the relentless, if polite, interrogation that had flowed from the professor’s lips for hours on end. Going to sleep then donning fur had solved that problem at last. But now my lupine form meant I couldn’t communicate using much-needed human words. All I had was wolf skin and wide eyes that failed to convey the intensity of my distress.

  Only, the fickle bond that had proven no more than a liability for most of the preceding day must have clicked into gear while I slept. Because glass slid down without the necessity of words and air whooshed in to fill the space around me. I inhaled deeply then sighed out my relief. Humans. Dakota’s lackeys hadn’t found us quite yet.

  Unfortunately, my relief was short-lived. Even though no werewolves waited in the wings, these cops each wielded a hand-held computer into which they were keying other drivers’ identifying information. Unconsciously, my ears pinned back while a whimper emerged from my furry throat.

  SHRITA can’t find out we’re here.

  If given a choice between SHRITA and shifters, I have to admit that I would have chosen the wolves. Because government agents were remarkably effective despite lacking claws and fangs. They’d kidnapped my mate yesterday, had been implicated in the disappearance of my brother weeks before that, and might even now be hunting Sebastien if anyone managed to survive last night’s bloodbath.

  SHRITA also possessed full access to police databases. As a result, I couldn’t let the professor’s driver’s license fall into these police officers’ waiting hands.

  I tried sending that knowledge down the tether that tied me and Sebastien together. Tried...and failed as the phantom thread slipped away from my searching muzzle and disappeared into the void that kept us resolutely apart.

  Sebastien might have been able to guess that I wanted the window rolled down seconds earlier, but he wasn’t receiving my far more important transmission now. And how could I expect him to when our mate bond hung as loosey-goosey between us as a pan of uncooked custard?

  Keep reading Rogue Huntress here....