An Unauthorized Field Guide to the Hunt
Page 10
Shane managed to shift his hands to his chest while Fallon ranted at him. Gods, the blood. He’d already lost too much. Where was Lore? The arena’s wardens? Fighting the rogue beast, by the crashes and yowls resounding from the forest. Too far away. Shane wouldn’t last if he didn’t stem the flow of blood pumping his life from him. He pressed flattened palms over the chest wound, groaning at the weak pressure he exerted on the gash, yet grateful the man’s aim hadn’t been better. A little to the right would’ve pierced his heart.
“Concentrate, Shane!” Fallon slapped him again, rocking Shane’s head back with the force of the blow. “Do your brothers have the wealth to persuade a cat to betray his tribe, his home world?”
Slick, hot wet streaming between Shane’s fingers, he stared at Fallon. Stupidly.
No.
His brothers didn’t possess such wealth.
“What about me? My price?” Fallon’s mouth curved to a malicious bow. “The pay for killing you had to be high enough to risk a Hunt and fund the steep bribe I needed to offer a cat…two cats! Your damn lover killed the first, so I was forced to find another. Crazy, lust-mad cats aren’t as thick on the ground as you might believe either. I promised Maero the dead feral cat’s share of my reward and swore to become his victor just to convince him to lure you here.”
Shane gaped in horror. If Maero was involved, then Lore was in danger.
Lore could die.
As his blood trickled away, his body weakening, Shane realized he’d known long ago that he might not—probably wouldn’t—survive. The odds against him living through the Hunt and his family’s murderous intent should he fail to perform well in the arena had been slim. Shane hadn’t expected to see his next birthday. He’d resolved to try. He wouldn’t submit helplessly to his fate. He’d fight to stay alive. But he hadn’t believed he’d be successful.
He’d accepted his likely death.
But he could not—would not—accept Lore’s.
“Who has the resources, Shane? Who possesses the money, great heaps of it? Who has connections to get us both through screening on the Seskeran moon and placed on a hovercraft for transport to the same arena? Who urged, guided, and aided your escape from Narone to Mariket in the first place?”
He lowered his eyelashes, shutting Fallon out, the betrayal the assassin spoke of almost as excruciating as the gaping wound in his chest. How could he have been so blind?
He opened his eyes again only when Fallon laughed. “Ah. Now you understand,” Fallon said, fingering the hand axe as he regarded Shane with smug satisfaction burning in his stare. “Or think you do.”
Mind racing, willing himself to ignore the pain, to shove it away, Shane gulped. Time. He needed time. And opportunity. “M-my grandmother,” he mumbled.
Fallon nodded. “But do you know why?”
Shane swallowed the blood pooling in his mouth. “Because she’s a crazy bitch?”
When Fallon abruptly released his hold on Shane’s hair, Shane let his head fall back, striking a rock on the ground beneath him. He didn’t brace for the punch either. Pain exploded in his nose as the fragile bones shattered and blood spurted from it.
“She’s not crazy.”
No. Just evil.
“Your grandfather competed in the Hunt. Did he ever talk about it with you before your father murdered him?” Fallon’s wide grin showed he already knew the answer. “He actually fell for one of the cats. He wasn’t the cat’s mate, his victor, so the coupling failed, but your grandfather never forgot his lover. Even after he returned to Narone, he loved that cat. Your family’s business benefited from your grandfather’s unrequited devotion. Too bad he couldn’t let his lover go when he married your grandmother.”
Shane’s grandmother had done this. She’d borne his grandfather many children and doted on the man tirelessly. Shane remembered that. He also remembered her bitter fury when Shane’s father had arranged the murder that had allowed him to assume control of the family business. He recalled his grandfather had hardly provided for his wife upon his death, and that Shane’s grandmother had been forced to become the mistress of a generous aristocrat to retain her social status and regain her former wealth. Regain? Gran had surpassed it. The woman now shared her bed with Narone’s prime chancellor.
She’d never forgotten her clan, though. Especially Shane.
“You look like him, your grandfather,” Fallon said, fingers curling on the hand axe. “She always hated that.”
The blow fell, crushing Shane’s injured hip but thank gods not breaking the flesh wide to spill more blood. Shane shouted, the pain unbearable. He nearly fainted, the seducing black clouding his vision for scary moments.
He couldn’t faint. Couldn’t die.
Lore was in danger.
He inhaled as much as his devastated chest would allow and willed his eyes to focus. He tried to stay awake instead of surrendering to the maw of unconsciousness and death. To live. Just a little longer.
“They’ll execute her for this,” he finally managed to gasp.
Fallon shook his head. “The money trail traces back to your brothers and your father, Shane. Your entire family will be punished. Executed.” He smiled. “And the cats. The star systems turn a blind eye to competitor deaths since fighting among one another causes most fatalities, but feral cats? Rogue predators? Assassins in the arena? They’ll shut the Hunt down and invade Mariket if the cats won’t trade with offworlders without their Hunt to test negotiators.” Fallon glanced around the campsite, at the forest. “This will all be gone.”
Shane saw stars when Fallon crouched and tapped the end of the axe handle against his shattered hip, but that was the chance Shane had been waiting for.
“The cats will die,” Fallon said, still flashing his gloating smile even as Shane steeled himself against the pain and twisted beneath Fallon.
Shane wrenched the axe from Fallon’s grasp with surprising ease.
Blood pumping freely from his chest, hip shrieking ripe agony, Shane swung the crude tool, aiming for the bandage-encased side of Fallon’s head with all the strength he could muster. Eyes widening, Fallon lifted an arm to deflect the blow, but the maneuver came too late. The shock of the axe crashing into Fallon’s skull vibrated past Shane’s hurt wrists, up his forearms, his biceps, and to his bloodied shoulder.
Fallon’s shocked eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he crumpled to the side.
Pushing his broken and tormented body, Shane shifted to follow him. Rearing up, Shane lifted the axe.
“No! He is my victor!” Maero shouted behind Shane. “Don’t kill him.”
That wasn’t what compelled Shane to drop the axe instead of landing the killing blow. What did Shane care for Maero, who had lured him and Lore into the assassin’s reach, who had tricked Shane’s cat into the trees to best survey the ground? Who had distracted Lore and wardens alike by letting in another animal to fight Lore while Fallon slaughtered Shane?
No pity or mercy stirred Shane’s bruised and battered heart.
“Stop!” Lore yelled. “Now!”
The axe fell from Shane’s numb, blood-slick fingers, the wounded cry for his lover already tearing from his lips.
Lore’s arms around him, easing him to the dirt Shane had once cherished enough to risk his life—and Lore’s—for felt wonderful. Beautiful. He’d never hurt so much, not even after the feral cat’s attack, but when Lore rolled him over, his feline teeth clenched on a hiss as he assessed Shane’s wounded chest, Shane knew the hurt didn’t matter. What was important was seeing the love in Lore’s frantic gaze, feeling the possessive if panicked stroke of his cat’s hand on him, the sound of his lover’s desperate shout, “Med techs!”
Rapidly weakening, Shane smiled. “I would’ve stayed with you forever.”
“You will. You owe me. Every day of forever, right here with me,” Lore said, pressing down to stop the blood spurting from the wound in Shane’s chest. “Look at me. Keep looking at me.”
Other cats
in the uniform blue jumpsuits of Arena 4 officials didn’t alarm him. How could he be afraid when his cat stared at him with such frank adoration? The needles they stabbed into him didn’t sting, nor the flurry of gauzy pads and bandages held to the gashes, scrapes, and cuts. He didn’t care for the med techs handling him, but…there was Lore. Only Lore. So solid and sexy.
“I love you,” Shane said, bleary but so happy he’d been blessed with the opportunity to say it aloud.
Lore’s whiskers twitched. A smirk fought free. “You would finally tell me when you’re pumped full of drugs and stoned out of your head.”
“Don’t think,” Shane said, panting through the pain, determined to stay awake for Lore as long as he could, “this means you still don’t owe me. One last chase. A final hunt. You promised.”
Gathering Shane close despite the med techs scrambling to keep Shane alive, Lore skated his mouth against Shane’s ear. “Agreed.”
Epilogue
“I wouldn’t change a thing.”
~ Shane West
Forever after
Shane’s heartbeat thundered in his ears as he raced through the canopy, bare feet angled outward to grip the tree limb and his toes curling into the bark. When he reached the end of the branch, he crouched and jumped to the elevated platform he and Lore had finished building only the evening before. His heels slapped on the new wood. He dropped to a second, older platform that bridged the trees separating their shower from the zip line.
Laughing, panting, Shane didn’t bother with the harness. He grabbed the pulley’s strap and let his weight launch him forward. And down.
Wind whipped his hair as he streaked down to the hunting shed where Lore stored the stunners and spears used to catch predators for offworld trade. Shane leaped from the zip line into the shelter, and ignoring weapons, snares, and nets, he sprinted through the opening on the other side.
Leaves thrashed behind him, Lore’s snarl practically skimming over Shane’s nape.
Didn’t matter. Because he’d reached the elevator.
On Narone, his brothers would’ve cringed at referring to the crude weight-and-pulley system as an elevator. Maybe Shane would’ve winced once too.
Not today.
Moments after Shane scrambled onto the elevator’s base, he yanked the primitive lever that held the counterweight in check. Crowing and cackling as the growled curses of one pissed-off feline grew increasingly distant, he shot up, up, up through the thick greenery. His stomach hardly lurched anymore. His eyes couldn’t track the vines and leaves that he soared past, but vaulting into the canopy didn’t dizzy him.
The process seemed glacially slow at times, but he was becoming a creature of Mariket’s forests too.
Not fast enough, though.
When he reached the upper deck of their living quarters and his feet slapped the planks of smooth wood, the ungentle shove between his shoulder blades pushed him forward. He stumbled, lost his footing, then his breath as he thudded to the floor of their home, sprawling over the stingy platform that was their nest in the trees.
Lore’s warm fur pressed intimately into him from behind. “I won.”
Despite his panting, Shane laughed. “Claim your prize, then,” he said, pushing his ass up and into Lore’s abdomen.
Instead of slamming his dick inside Shane, Lore lifted. Shane shivered at the loss of his cat’s warmth and the silky brush of Lore’s fur. He didn’t resist as Lore nudged his hip and turned Shane so that his shoulders kissed the floorboards. He stared up into Lore’s strange but achingly familiar cat eyes, but Lore’s attention wasn’t on Shane’s face.
His fingers traced the wide pink line that marred Shane’s left pec.
“Hey,” Shane whispered, arms slipping around Lore’s stomach. The splints on his wrists were long gone, the bones mended. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
Blowing out a shaky sigh, Lore caressed the stark evidence of Shane’s wound anyway. “You could have died.”
“Maero tricked Fallon by staying close to camp, worked with wardens to bring a caged mastiff into the arena to convince Fallon that he could be trusted. That lured Fallon into identifying where the threat against the tribes—and me—originated. I was never in any genuine danger.”
“I thought Maero was my friend.”
“He was. Is.”
Lore shook his head. “He risked you.”
“Ending the crisis was too important. Besides, Maero didn’t know Fallon was strong enough to legitimately hurt me. He fooled the med techs too.” Shane’s grandmother had been arrested, tried, and imprisoned. Her lust for revenge had driven her to try to destroy the cats by sparking an interstellar war, but she’d failed. Thanks to the subterfuge of Maero and the wardens, Mariket and Shane both were now safe. When the mating cycle heated up again, the Hunt would begin anew—for others. Shane had already found his love and his lover. Squeezing Lore to him, Shane swore to never let him go. “You need to stop thinking about it. The threat is over.”
Lore splayed his lightly furred palm over Shane’s scar. “It will never be finished as long as your assassin lives. He could escape. Find his way here.”
“With his leg permanently damaged and a mate who won’t let him out of his sight? Across half a planet?” Shane rolled his eyes. “There’s no pay for killing me now, so I couldn’t be safer.”
“He should have been executed. If Maero hadn’t cooperated with Hunt officials, Fallon would’ve been deported at least.”
“Instead he’s been imprisoned and exiled.” Shane grinned and bucked his hips up, grinding his groin against Lore’s. They both shuddered as their hard dicks rubbed. “Enough. I didn’t waste time and energy healing so you could wreck the perfectly good chase you promised me. The blush of first love fades quickly if you’re already breaking your vow.”
“I haven’t.” Ears flattening, Lore glowered. “Once this Hunt has ended, we can visit and use the arenas again. You’ll be able to run on your cursed ground then as much as you wish.”
“I can’t wait. More importantly I don’t have to. I don’t need the forest floor inside an arena to win by losing.” Shane lifted his hand to cup Lore’s cheek. “I am your victor. Is that not so?”
“You know it is.” The corner of Lore’s mouth curved, and he pressed into Shane’s caress. “I am yours to rule—mind, heart, body, and soul.”
Shane pumped his hips, increasing the glorious friction and the tingling slide of their cocks. “And you’ve caught me now. Fair and square.”
“I have.” Lore thrust too, the arousal and electrifying want intensifying as they writhed together. “You are mine, as much as I am yours.”
“Then forget him. Forget Fallon, wardens, the Hunt, and the tribes.” Stomach muscles bunching as he rose off the floor to lap at Lore’s soft lips, Shane sighed. “Make love to me.”
Lore’s mouth settled on Shane’s, his tongue dipping inside to taste. Sexy, decadent. Mesmerizing. When Shane’s mind pleasantly buzzed, Lore pulled away from Shane’s avid mouth. “Is this the prize demanded by my victor?”
Their lips brushed. Shane’s body hadn’t only melted. His heart had melted too. “Yes.”
Loose Id Titles by Kari Gregg
An Unauthorized Field Guide to the Hun
Blood Oath
Half a Million Dead Cannibals
I, Omega
In the Red
* * * *
The SPOILS OF WAR Series
Plunder
Kari Gregg
Kari Gregg lives in the mountains of Wild and Wonderful West Virginia with her Wonderful husband and three very Wild children. Once Kari discovered the fabulous play land of erotic romances at RWA’s National Conference in 2009, the die was cast. Finally! A market for the smoking hot stories she loves!
When Kari’s not writing, she enjoys reading, coffee, zombie flicks, coffee, naked mud-wrestling (not really), and…coffee!
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title
Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Epilogue
Loose Id Titles by Kari Gregg
Kari Gregg