Hunted (Book One of the Forever Faire Series): A Fae Fantasy Romance Novel

by Hazel Hunter

  Being five foot nothing and barely a hundred pounds had fated Kayla to be forever envious of substantial people, which was probably why she’d always been attracted to big men. Because she looked much younger and weaker than she was, the guys she liked never paid much attention to her. Ryan wasn’t showing any particular interest, either. But Kayla’s nerves remained on full alert, and she wasn’t sure why. It might have been the odd scent blending with the smoke, which smelled stronger and sharper now—less like cookies and more like an exotic cocktail.

  Vanilla brandy? Chocolate champagne?

  Kayla rarely drank so she couldn’t pin it down, but it was wonderful.

  As for Ryan, apart from being super-sized, he seemed relatively harmless. But she was picking up a very strange vibe from him. As if there was something he didn’t want her to see, or maybe that she’d missed altogether.

  Or I’ve gotten so paranoid everyone looks to me like they’re hiding something.

  “Are you traveling with someone, Ryan?”

  “Old friends,” he said and tossed a handful of pine needles onto the fire. It billowed with a whoosh. “Do your parents know where you and your sister are?”

  “Probably not. They’re dead.” The flaring flames erased the last of the shadows from his face, revealing long, narrow eyes that shouldn’t have been such an ordinary brown. “I’m not a kid, either. I’m twenty-five.”

  “That’s almost ancient,” he said, sounding a little amused. “Now tell me the real reason you came here, Kayla Rowe.”

  Chapter 4

  Christine Marszalek climbed down from the side stage, her spangled hair and skimpy costume glittering under the spot lights. The aroma of spilled beer, cigarette smoke, and sweat had lightened, which made her frown. The last of the Club Royale’s regular clients had fled, leaving only the bikers, who weren’t drinking, smoking or getting turned on. Oh, they watched, with their flat, muddy eyes, but not one of them had tipped her or any of the girls yet.

  What the hell do they want?

  The gang had roared in last night, taking all the empty rooms in the motel next door. They’d slept through the day, and then piled into the strip club at sunset. Old Fred, the owner and bartender, had gone back with one of them into his office, and had yet to come out. All the dancers acted as if nothing was wrong, but they were all scared.

  Aisha, the dusky-skinned island girl who was taking her place, muttered, “Weasel’s back.”

  Christine looked over to see the gang’s leader, Dirk, getting a lap dance from Francine. But at the same time he was talking to a shorter, rodent-faced thug named Beck, who had been pestering all of them since the gang had come in. He handed the bigger man a paper, which he read and then crumpled in his fist.

  “Keep dancing,” Christine said under her breath.

  “’Til when?” Aisha grumbled. “It’s five a.m., girl. We were supposed to close at two.”

  Tiredly she climbed up to do her first whirl around the dull gold brass pole.

  Christine went around the bar, which Old Fred was supposed to be manning, and made herself a club soda. As casually as she could, she moved to a spot just behind the two men.

  “You’re certain they were there?” Dirk demanded.

  “Absolutely,” Beck said, smirking at Francine. “The mortal at the hotel said they left yesterday.”

  They talked as strange as they looked, but it wasn’t what they said that scared Christine. Since she’d started stripping she’d met every kind of jerk in existence, or thought she had. This biker gang was something else. They radiated strangeness, from their brow tats down to their shit-kicker boots. She’d never seen so many men look so much alike. Just meeting their eyes made her feel as if a million bugs had crept under her skin.

  Without warning Dirk shoved Francine off him.

  “Hey,” Francine yelped as she fell on her ass. “You can’t do shit like that.”

  “I can’t?” Dirk said as he stood. “Bring the fat guy to me,” he told Beck.

  As Beck left, all of the dancers froze and looked over at Christine, who shook her head slightly. The music shut off, and Dirk scanned the room. Something slithered against Christine’s skin as she watched the other girls’ expressions blank. They slowly gathered around the biker.

  “My men and I like this place. We’re going to be staying for a time.” He dropped a handful of white packets onto his table. “This is for you. You will not leave this place. You will keep the doors locked and let no one in but us. Do as you are told, and there will be more.”

  Christine swallowed hard as she watched her co-workers snatch up the coke, and then jumped as the gang leader glared back at her. Although she didn’t do drugs, her silently screeching instincts made her go over and pick up one of the packets.

  “Why are you so slow to take your pleasure?” Dirk demanded.

  “Some of the girls have husbands, and kids,” Christine told him tonelessly. “They need to go home, and take care of their families.”

  “And someday they will, but for now, this is their home.” Dirk loomed over her.

  It took all of Christine’s nerve not to turn and run. “Their people will call the cops,” she warned him. “They’ll come here, and cause trouble for you. Let us work shifts, like our boss does.”

  “Your boss.” He looked around until he spotted Beck dragging the rotund, perspiring Fred out of the back hall. “Ah, yes. Here he is now.”

  “Please,” the man blubbered as soon as Beck pushed him toward Dirk. “I gave you what you wanted, didn’t I? The place is yours. For free. Just lemme go.”

  Dirk tilted his head. “No, I’m not going to do that. Men in charge must provide an example for their underlings.” He took him from Beck and stood him in front of Christine and the other dancers. “Tell your girls what will happen to them if they don’t obey me.”

  The manager scanned the anxious faces in front of him. “You ladies gotta do what the man says, no matter what. You do for him, he’ll be good to you. I promise.”

  Dirk used one huge hand to affectionately rub Fred’s bald scalp. “What happens if they don’t do for me?”

  “You’ll, ah, punish them, I guess.” The man cringed. “They’re good girls, Mister Blackstone. Don’t hurt them, please.”

  “I don’t want to,” Dirk said, producing a long, sharp-looking dagger. “But I think we need to show them an example, don’t you think?”

  Chapter 5

  Caught off guard, Kayla almost blurted out the truth. Then she saw how closely the big man across the fire was watching her.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “The troubles that brought you here,” he said. He propped his elbows on his knees. “It may help to talk about them. I’m a good listener.”

  “You’re a stranger, too, and you know what they say about talking to them.” Kayla saw him frown. “Look, I appreciate the chance to warm up, but it doesn’t entitle you to my life story or anything. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

  The line of his mouth curled on one side. “So you can read minds, too.”

  “I wish.”

  Kayla squeezed the melting frost from her gloves. The painful tingling in her fingers meant her hands would be okay. If only her brain weren’t so stiff and clumsy.

  “But, seeing as I’m alone with you here in the deep dark frozen woods,” she said, “thank you in advance for having only good intentions.”

  “No need to be scared, girl,” he said, watching her face. “You’re safe with me.”

  She didn’t know enough about him to believe that, but the gentleness in his voice sounded genuine. Incredibly sexy, too.

  “I’m not a girl, but it’s nice to hear I’m safe.” She sighed a little as the knot between her shoulders unwound a little. “Because I’m really sick of being afraid.”

  He broke some twigs and tossed them on the crackling pine needles.

  “Then you shouldn’t be wandering around out here alone.”

  Def
initely not an American, Kayla decided, but trying very hard to sound like one.

  “I’m not wandering. My car really did run out of gas, you know, and I actually do have a sister waiting in town. How about you?”

  “No car or sisters.”

  Ryan’s head tipped to one side. Something flashed in his hair, as though something jeweled had caught the moonlight. Kayla blinked. But whatever it had been was gone.

  “Anything else you want to know?” he said in that velvety voice.

  There was plenty she wanted to know. How soft his hair was, what he smelled like up close, how it would feel to be in his arms–

  She was staring again, and dropped her gaze. Her face flushed at where her thoughts had been headed. What was going on? She’d never been one for instant attractions, and she’d been around him for five minutes, tops. Except for his heroic build he wasn’t even good-looking. She already had enough trouble in her life. The last thing she needed was a one-night stand in the woods with–

  She glared at the fire. She’d done it again. Why was sex suddenly the only thing she could think of?

  Hypothermia. He’s big and warm, and I’m little and cold.

  Kayla also hadn’t had sex since dumping her last dead-end boyfriend a year ago, so maybe her hormones were finally waking up after their long sleep. She shook her head a little to try and clear it.

  “What are you doing, riding out here in the dark?” she said, finally looking at him again but trying to concentrate on something else. “Most horses hate that, because they can’t see as well at night. Every noise or movement spooks them.”

  “I like to ride, and I have excellent night vision.” Ryan studied her face for a long moment. “Afraid I don’t have a horse, though.”

  She peered over his shoulder again, and nearly fell over.

  A motorcycle?

  Her gaze darted one way, then the other. How could she have mistaken a motorcycle for a horse?

  Oh, God, what have I done? The rest will ride up any minute and take me.

  She shakily got to her feet, but the next thought froze her in place.

  What if they already found Tara?

  “Kayla?” Ryan’s voice scattered her frantic thoughts in a million directions. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  She forced herself to let out the breath she was holding and take another. If she could keep him talking, there might be a way to escape.

  “I feel so stupid,” she said, telling the truth. “When I walked up I could have sworn that your ride had a mane and four legs.”

  “Chrome and two wheels,” Ryan said and smiled. “Moonlight plays tricks on the eyes out here.”

  It was certainly doing something. Up until that moment Kayla had thought Ryan had the most average eyes she’d ever seen, but his smile changed them into something not ordinary at all. The look he gave her shot across the fire like lightning, burning through her fear and enveloping her with wordless longings. Every inch of her skin prickled as she watched Ryan’s mouth and felt her own throb.

  He can’t be one of them.

  Her head spun as terror and desire played tug-o-war.

  Every time I’ve been near them they make me sick. He does the exact opposite.

  “Who are you, really?” she blurted out.

  Ryan seemed surprised by the question. “I told you my name.”

  He rose to his feet and came around to her side of the fire.

  Kayla looked up, astonished all over again by his size. The top of her head barely reached the lower vault of his chest. That put him close to seven feet tall. Up close his scent was so delicious that breathing it in made her feel drunk.

  “I’m…I’m…”

  Why couldn’t she think of the right word?

  “Yes?” he said, and lifted a hand to her cheek.

  The touch of his cool palm barely grazed her skin. But the sensation plowed into her like a heavy fist wrapped in velvet. She swayed a little, and he took her shoulder.

  “Look at me,” he commanded.

  Tiny white stars appeared in his hair, and she squinted up at them. “Did you know you have…” Her voice trailed off as she watched them flicker and grow brighter. “You have…uh, something.” God, was she getting smashed on the smell of him? She was. “In your hair. Fireflies, maybe?”

  “’Tis well,” he murmured. “I want you to truly see me.”

  Kayla watched the glittering light pool gather, liquefy, and pour down his face to spread out over his chest and shoulders. Everywhere it touched him his body changed, emerging from beneath the light with new colors and dimensions.

  “Holy cow,” she muttered. “I don’t think so.”

  Ryan’s heavy, plain face had disappeared, altered into features that were much more refined and unearthly. His bronze skin had turned an unblemished porcelain white, and gave off a subtle glow from the deep cleft in his new jaw to the angular points of his ears. The light brown hair paled to a lustrous white-gold, and each strand caught the firelight and trapped it in long, thin rainbows. His brows formed light slashes over the same long, narrow eyes—only they had changed to a gorgeous sapphire blue with such long, thick white lashes they resembled jewels set in pearl filigree.

  No man should be so beautiful. Some part of Kayla knew that, and she would tell him, just as soon as she remembered where her tongue was.

  The final blow was the unsmiling, full-lipped mouth. Such luscious lips usually graced the faces of the hottest supermodels and were coveted by everyone else. One look suggested that spending your nights simply kissing such a mouth would be as good or better than sex.

  “You have naught to fear, Kayla,” he reminded her, his accent completely different now. “Have you come seeking our kind?”

  As much as he unsettled her, his question made her heart jump into her throat. He’d turned into someone else, as if what she’d seen before had been an elaborate disguise. Nothing on this earth could let him do that, except–

  The words Tara had muttered that awful day on the highway: Not men.

  His hand tightened a fraction on her shoulder. “Tell me, Kayla.”

  She flinched. “I’m not sure I…”

  Just now she realized his clothes had changed, too. He wore a sleek, dark violet tunic embroidered with strange symbols in silver. His tight trousers were made of black leather laced from knee to thigh with crisscrossing blue straps. From the straps hung dozens of small, curved blades that had to be knives, yet didn’t look like any Kayla knew. His boots, which gleamed like black mirrors, were fitted with shin guards formed out of scrolled gold, and broad spiked clamps over the insteps. Somehow the exotic outfit reminded her of the strange clothes the bikers wore.

  “You’re far from home, aren’t you?” he said.

  Kayla jerked her head up. “Yes. I’m from Florida. And I have a…in town, waiting… Is my brain leaking out of my ears yet?”

  “No, and it will not. You’re doing very well.” Ryan smiled again, breaking her heart and cradling it at the same time. His thumb edged along the bottom curve of her mouth as his voice dropped to a low, rough murmur. “The truth now, Kayla. Were you sent to us? Do you come with someone in need of our help? Protection, perhaps?”

  “No. I told you, I saw your fire. Who’s us?”

  Her eyes stung, and when she lifted her hand to rub them she dislodged his, breaking the contact.

  A heartbeat later he looked exactly as he had when she’d found him: a normal, brown-haired, brown-eyed giant guy in regular clothes. The strange hold he’d put over her likewise vanished, and she took a step back so she could bellow properly.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “Nothing. It’s all right. I made a mistake.” He moved in and lifted his hand, resting it on her shoulder. The moment he did, the liquid light flowed over him again, shifting his form back into that of the pale, otherworldly warrior. “You are safe, Kayla, and nothing is amiss.”

  “Safe my ass.” She wanted to shove hi
m away, but the moment he touched her both arms quit working. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Fighting a will of iron, it seems. For such a small thing, you’re admirably resolute.” Ryan moved his hand, curling it over the side of her throat. His eyes darkened as his fingers threaded through her hair. “So warm, so alive. I’d forgotten what it can be to touch a woman.”

  “Please don’t tell me you’re gay.” Her anger faded as the strange, beguiling sensations streamed through her once more. “And while we’re on that subject, what are you?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He bent down, and touched his forehead to hers. “You will have no memory of this.”

  “Why not?”

  Kayla felt his hands encircle her throat. Was he going to strangle her?

  “I cannot permit you to remember.” He lifted his head and stared at her lips as his thumbs drew circles over her collarbones. “But I will have something of you that I may remember.”

  All Kayla had time to do was gulp before he pressed his mouth to hers.

  Past experience convinced her to expect the usual, tentative first kiss. Even the grabbiest guy she’d dated in high school had initially given her a dry, gentle peck. It was as if it were some unspoken rule among boys interested in only one thing: be nice, and maybe you’ll get to second base.

  This exotic, beautiful man went at her as if he’d been starved for sex. His mouth was so wet, open, and carnal Kayla felt it down to her heels. The way he used his tongue and teeth sent a flood of pleasure through her so acute she heard the rush in her ears.

  Ryan lifted his mouth only long enough to tip her head back before he was at her throat, his teeth catching her skin before the long, hot glide of his tongue stroked over the love bite, erasing the sting and sending new heat blazing down into her breasts and belly.