Masters of the Hunt: Fated and Forbidden

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Masters of the Hunt: Fated and Forbidden Page 117

by Sarra Cannon

Stopping dead in its tracks, the beast leaned forward as though straining to hear every nuance, every inflection. The purity of her voice had the beast swaying, and its eyes glazing as it seeped into the creature’s soul. It seemed like it was going to work this time, until it shook its massive head, clearing the haziness she’d created before it roared in fury.

  Rhia gathered healing light and energy. She should have centered herself or at least paid attention to where the power was coming from, but time wasn’t on her side, and no way in hell was she closing her eyes on the monster before her. The beast wouldn’t wait for her to be ready. If anything, it would attack fast and hard, hoping to catch her off guard.

  The heavy thumping against the pavement rattled nearby windows as its large feet stomped closer and closer.

  In a matter of seconds, it reached her and drew its paw high in the air, before swiping at her. Sharp claws sliced through her blouse and arm, leaving three deep, angry gouges in their wake. Eyes watering, her vision blurred for a moment as fiery pain shot up her arm. Warm blood trickled down to her elbow, but she wouldn’t let herself be distracted. Shoving the pain and discomfort aside, she focused on the beast. Already fatigued from her work at the hospice, she had to end it, and fast. She wouldn’t last in a long battle, not tonight.

  A faint mosquito-like buzzing niggled at her mind. What kind of trick was it using on her? Leaping to the side, she dodged another swipe as its paw came up again for another strike.

  Timing her move, she struck with everything she had as it raised its arm a third time. Her left leg swung out and delivered a hard roundhouse kick to its thigh at the exact moment she released the scorching ball of light from her hands. She’d have preferred to land her kick to its groin, but with its massive stature, she’d have to be Bruce Lee to kick that high.

  The ball of energy whined through the air, and disappeared into its chest, making it falter. Its eyes softened for a moment before darkening again with ruthless determination.

  White-hot, searing power sizzled in her palms as she prepared to strike again. “Come on, Benji. You could have at least pretended that kick hurt a little.” She goaded the creature, hoping it would get sloppy as its fury rose. “Give up. You’ve already lost. It’s time for you to go to whatever hell you came from.”

  The beast shook its head like a wet dog and roared as it fought the compulsion. Blood-laden spittle spewed from its mouth, arcing towards her in a repulsive stream.

  “You cannot get rid of me so easily, regal one.” The beast spat the words, its voice grating and hoarse. “I am too strong, even for you. Your time has ended before it has begun.”

  The Erritrol was close. Its black aura surrounded him as surely as his cloak did. The wisps of darkness floated in the air, naked to the human eye, but tainting it just the same.

  There was a subtle difference between an ill deed and an actual negative entity. Although a depraved act was unpleasant, a negative entity had the ability to influence others in a malicious way. This was definitely the latter.

  He had no allegiance to humans, but how could he, in good conscience, allow their needless suffering at the hands of the beast unleashed here? Humans had neither the knowledge nor the ability to protect themselves against the Erritrols. He knew firsthand of the dark creatures’ depravity, their merciless, brutal ways. As much as he needed to continue with his search, he could not allow humans to become fodder for the beasts.

  Drake sprinted down the narrow alleyway towards the creature, jumping over a stray cat as it crossed his path. The beast was near. Its rancid odor intensified the closer he got. The buildings in this older part of the city, built tall and close together, made it impossible to see beyond the corner. The violence washing over him was like a homing device, leading him straight to it. He could only hope it hadn’t harmed too many humans yet. He surrounded himself in a thick layer of white light, pulling it close, cloaking himself deeply before heading into battle.

  He rounded the corner and stopped short, transfixed as pure light in colorful hues twisted and twined around the body of a woman.

  One of the lost women of Avalore, and she was battling an Erritrol.

  A white cotton shirt hugged her chest, and a long flowing skirt clung to her body as the wind whipped it around her legs. Fastened at the back, a ponytail cascaded past her shoulders in dark waves. And on top of her head, dark sunglasses rested, a forgotten remnant from the day long gone.

  Black energy swung close to her as the beast lunged. What the hell did she think she was doing?

  He sprang back into action when he realized she intended to fight the beast.

  “Protect yourself, woman. Pull back.” He sent his commands to her telepathically as only their people could do.

  The Erritrol were a vicious breed, each and every one of them fierce warriors. This male would not think twice about tearing a pretty woman to pieces for no reason other than to destroy something beautiful. Had they not been so vile, so evil, he might have been able to respect them for their tenacity in battle.

  Drake could make out her words as he edged his way closer. As tempting as it was, he forced himself not to listen to her compulsive intonations. He hadn’t heard the ancient words of their people in such a long time, and never outside of Avalore. Her words were not perfect, and her accent was not quite right, but she was managing to keep the beast from going into a full rage, which was a feat in itself. It also explained why it hadn’t blasted her to bits yet.

  He drew from others in the vicinity, not caring about the source. His warrior’s instinct was to go into an all-out battle with the creature and end it fast, but the woman was close—too close. No, he had to be careful, having her hurt or killed was not acceptable. He had to get around the enemy so he could concentrate his blast right into its chest to deliver a blow strong enough to either kill or at least incapacitate it. He moved, careful not to disturb the natural flow around him as he made his way closer to the woman.

  The Erritrol snarled just before it lunged at her, striking her arm as she released her healing light into its chest. Drake’s fury rose like hot lava. No one laid a hand on the women of Avalore. Going on instinct, he sent a massive burst of energy into the beast’s back. Years of training and fighting held his aim straight and true even as he moved through the air trying to get into a more advantageous position. A strike to the head or chest would have been more effective but at least that would give the bastard something to ponder.

  Attacking it like this wasn’t the most strategic move, but if he could draw its attention, she’d be safer. The woman didn’t as much as glance in his direction as he maneuvered into position to defend her. The beast stumbled and roared under the onslaught. Its eyes darted around trying to track his position.

  “Protect yourself, now,” he commanded again.

  Why was she engaging the dark creature? Did she not realize he’d take care of it for her? Feminist groups would balk at the archaic idea of a man taking care of a woman, but the women of Avalore didn’t have the ability to shield themselves as quickly or as well as the men did. It had nothing to do with keeping them from their potential and everything to do with keeping them safe.

  With all the energy Drake was pilfering, the people hiding or sleeping in their homes would feel a little more tired than usual come morning, but at least they’d be alive. It took everything he had to shut out the melodic chanting as she tried to soothe the beast. If he timed it just right, he could send the beast back with just one or two blows. It didn’t know where he was but it would soon figure it out. And Drake wanted it weakened before it did.

  His heart stuttered as the beast roared and took another swipe. Black energy cut through the air towards her. Horrified, he was helpless to keep the sharp claws from slicing into her throat as it tried to deliver a killing blow.

  The breeze shifted, bringing with it the scent of blood—her blood. Fiery heat consumed him. It had struck her not once, but twice already. It would not get a third opportunity.


  He couldn’t stop the low rumble in his chest from escaping as he shot the creature with a massive blast of scorching white power, draining the life force from its body.

  He expected swift retaliation, but the beast continued to stare at the woman as it staggered.

  “This battle is not over. Do not think you have won.” It didn’t take its eyes from her, but the words were for him. Was it a warning or a promise of vengeance? Drake growled, accepting the challenge. He’d battle every damned one of them if they dared touch one of the women of Avalore again.

  It howled once more, and then gave up, its form shimmering as it released its host.

  That was it? It was gone? That made no sense at all. They never left a fight, especially when challenged by another male, regardless of the species. They always chose defeat over retreat.

  He took a deep, calming breath as he refocused his attention on the woman who was now busily fussing over the male who had unknowingly struck and hurt her. Only the fact the man had no control over his own actions saved him from the anger still roiling in Drake.

  He stood with his arms crossed over his chest. The muscles clenched in his jaw as she tended to the human male. He didn’t dare speak until he got his emotions under control. Seeing her touch the man made his blood boil. Weakened by the battle with the Erritrol, she used her own precious healing energy on the human instead of keeping it for herself.

  The man had the audacity to ogle her when she bent to retrieve her bag, making Drake clench his fists and grind his teeth. He’d witnessed the way the men in these lands treated their women, and he wouldn’t tolerate such disgusting behavior toward one of the women of Avalore. If this human male wanted to see another sunrise, he’d keep his hands to himself. After all she’d done for him, he should be kissing her feet, not leering at her.

  Drake remained silent as she ignored him and headed towards the old building. She stopped at the top of the steps. Her eyes narrowed, but her gaze still didn’t settle on him before she opened the door and slipped inside.

  Chapter 2

  Drake caught up to her on the second floor, and squeezed through as Rhia closed the apartment door behind her.

  Paint, yellowed from years of previous tenants smoking, was peeling in every corner. Bright orange curtains hung crookedly over a window. The tattered ends blew in the draft coming through a long crack severing the glass pane in two. The stench of stale smoke and mold assailed him, making his nose wrinkle and his stomach turn. How could she live like that?

  He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, his arms and ankles crossed, his large, muscular frame occupying most of the opening.

  She flitted from the window to the door and back again, only to go into the kitchen and return to stand by a tiny gaudy sofa sitting in the middle of the room. She picked up a picture frame perched on a cardboard box in front of the sofa and fidgeted with it before setting it down and resuming her restless pacing. As far as he could tell, the only personal items in the apartment were that one frame and two boxes, still sealed with tape, stacked in one corner.

  When she disappeared into another room, closing the door behind her, he had to fight the urge to go after her. Everything in him demanded he follow, but he refused to stalk her in her own home. He’d just have to content himself with monitoring her energy to make sure she didn’t somehow get away. He couldn’t pry his gaze from the closed door as he waited.

  He was about to uncloak and go knocking on the door when she emerged wearing form-hugging blue jeans and a t-shirt. The pale pink fabric of her shirt clung to her feminine curves, and he had to force himself to keep his gaze where it belonged, away from her delectable body.

  The soft thud brought him back to reality. A bright pink backpack with a cat caricature sat on the dingy floor where she’d dropped it before heading to the window to check the lock again.

  He kept expecting her to turn and speak to him yet her eyes never settled on him. Something niggled at him. He was missing something, but what?

  The colors of her energy were so bright, so beautiful, and now that she wasn’t in battle, they flowed around her almost sensually. Rich blues and purples mingled with the lighter, brighter colors, yet they didn’t blend as they would for other women of their species. He wanted to reach out and touch them to see how they would feel sliding against his own. The light enfolded the woman in a bright cocoon, making it difficult to see her. He wanted to keep watching her forever, but he pushed himself to see past the energy to reveal the woman beneath.

  She wrung her hands as she swept the room with her gaze, passing over where he stood. His cloak protected him from the enemy, but she should be able to see through it.

  Her dark brown hair was bound, but he’d bet if released it would reach her waist. He had to fight the strong urge to walk up and brush the few tendrils loosened during the battle from her eyes. Her high cheekbones and heart shaped face were reminiscent of the women of Avalore, but there was something more, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

  The creature they’d fought would return and with it, others. As much as he’d like to take his time and observe her more, he had to get her out of here. It would mean explaining himself and convincing her to come with him. And time was not on their side.

  He straightened, and was about to drop his cloak when she stopped in front of the sofa.

  Her hands trembled as she tucked the errant strands of hair behind her ears. Her wince, when she moved her injured arm, had him grinding his teeth. She’d wasted her time and energy on that human outside, yet hadn’t bothered to take care of herself. Her chest rose and fell as she took several deep breaths before she plopped herself onto the ratty couch.

  “I can feel you with me.” Her voice shook as she spoke. “I know you’re there and I’ll try to help you if you’ll let me.”

  Her voice flowed over him like the softest of silk. She wasn’t using her voice to coerce or convince him in any way, but it drew him in just the same. He leaned forward to hear its melodious tones.

  Her eyes drifted shut as she sent her senses searching around the room. Her bright colors dimmed as they expanded, touching on every surface, including him. The tentative stroke of her psychic touch bathed him in sensuous warmth, like warm honey flowing over his skin. Her gentle probe skimmed over him, paused for a moment, and then continued around the room.

  There was something familiar about this woman, the dark hair, the fair skin, but still it eluded him. Her lips were soft and full, and frowning. Her smile would be stunning if she were to grace him with it, he was certain of it.

  Warmth slid over him, teasing and caressing with its gentle touch. He nearly groaned aloud as his body tightened. Her startled gasp brought his gaze back to hers. She’d found him, or rather she’d located his energy, and was now looking straight toward him.

  It was then he got a good look at her eyes. In that moment, nothing else mattered and nothing else existed. Only her.

  His sharp gasp reverberated through the room. His blood pumped wildly in his veins as flashes of memories from his childhood, of Queen Angelique merged the past with the present. He couldn’t take his eyes away from her. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. One single look from those lavender eyes was all it took. He’d do anything for her. Everything. All she had to do was ask.

  He stood motionless before her. His breath caught in his chest, while his mind reeled at the possibilities. It was inconceivable to think he would just happen to walk into a fight with an Erritrol and find the one woman he had spent his entire adult life searching for.

  Could the gods and goddesses have smiled down upon the people of Avalore at long last and brought him to her? Could it really be her? Did he even dare hope she, the one who would save them all, was sitting before him in this small, dingy apartment?

  Her small straight nose, her familiar features, the sensuous curve of her mouth—he couldn’t be wrong. It couldn’t be simple coincidence that she, a woman of their people, would have those eyes an
d look so much like their late queen.

  It’d been close to thirty years since he’d seen Queen Angelique, and he’d been young, but he wasn’t mistaken. He couldn’t be. Her eyes were the same stunning lavender. Clear and bright, her inner light shone through them, lifting his spirit higher than it had been in years.

  It explained his crazy obsessive need to protect her, to want to keep the disgusting human male away from her. Every Avalorian male strove to keep their women and children safe from harm, but even more so their queen. Without her, their people were doomed.

  His heart thudded as though he’d fought another gruelling battle. Electricity crackled through him, throbbing in his veins.

  Deep down, he already knew the truth of the woman’s identity, but they’d been searching for so long, he could scarcely believe his own eyes. Evan would know. He of all people would recognize her. Too much was riding on this to leave anything to chance. He advanced into the room, keeping his energy well contained before coming to a stop several feet from her.

  “Evan, I’ve found one of our women, and need to arrange safe passage. I want our best men there to bring her through.”

  Telepathic communication was second nature to their people and though most could not converse from the human lands to Avalore, his bond with Evan was strong enough to bridge the distance. He’d have a massive headache, but it was worth it.

  “She must be stunning for you to ask your commander for special favors.”

  Drake wasn’t the kind of man people teased often. He could be downright intimidating when he wanted to be, but he and Evan had been the best of friends since childhood. Where one went, the other always followed. It was natural when the Coalition formed that Evan, the queen’s eldest son, would head the unit, and Drake had become his second in command.

  “Make it happen. I want you and your brothers there. Hell, bring every damned guard and soldier you have. Just be ready when we’re ready to cross.” His voice sounded tense even in his own mind.

 

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