Masters of the Hunt: Fated and Forbidden

Home > Young Adult > Masters of the Hunt: Fated and Forbidden > Page 251
Masters of the Hunt: Fated and Forbidden Page 251

by Sarra Cannon


  “Not yet. Not yet. Not yet,” she cried. Using her legs for momentum, she swung her body weight forward. She kicked off the van’s corner and sailed through the opening. Once her feet touched the exterior of the metal roof, she adjusted Strife on her shoulder and dove for the street. When her feet touched bottom, she wasted no time. The creatures pursued her.

  After running two blocks from the scene, she propped Strife in a sitting position against a mailbox. The vampire’s head wound had already begun to clot. With pursuers on her heels and her power spiraling beyond her control, Sera raced further away from the attack. As she searched for an empty alleyway, she tried to dissuade any onlookers from following by casting rays of light outward. The action, hopefully, would result in the area heating up to a degree humans couldn’t enter.

  Four more streets and a quick curve to the right provided Sera with the perfect spot. A narrow passage with warehouses on either side stretched half the length of a football field to a chain link fence. The dead-end street gave Sera the ideal cover. “Ok, you bastards, time for a show.”

  Sit back and relax, pet. It’s my turn.

  “Not this time. We do this my way. I stay in control or I’ll fry us both.”

  A low laugh reverberated through her body. Glad to see you’re growing a backbone. Ok then, your way.

  Fire filled her veins, her blood boiling in every limb. Her hair ignited in orange flames. The inner barrier fell away, allowing Guy to sweep over her mind. Whenever she’d allowed this before, he’d taken control, merging them into one being with him at the helm. Not this time. They came together, unifying into one, but she felt every inch of the energy. She stayed at the wheel. The intense heat liquefied her muscles and organs, causing a scream to rip from her. The raw undiluted power made what was left of her stomach reel, but her feet remained glued to the ground. She’d ride this wave, even if it killed her.

  The creatures hesitated on the outskirts of the alley. With precarious control, she managed to rein some of the fire into her body. The swarm moved closer, but not enough. Concentrating, she shifted the flames to a subdued yellow light, the type you’d find streaming down from the moon on a hazy summer evening. The beasts howled their victory as if they’d already won. Their eyes widened with their unnaturally shaped jaws. The smell of rotten flesh wafted from them like a sickly perfume.

  When they reached within arms’ length of Sera, she let go. The soft light shot into five-foot flames, covering the creatures. They howled again, this time a ravenous cry of agony. The dangerous shift caused her to drop to her knees, but she kept the fire burning. It tugged at her bones, drawing strength from the pieces of her body, but still she held on.

  As the creatures retreated down the alley and the last of their cries left her ears, she pulled back. The flames refused to recede, continuing to feed off her. She fought against the heat and pictured it returning to her. Still it grew, battling her will as if it possessed a life of its own. Her mind spun. “There’s got to be a way,” she said. The words came out raw. Soon she couldn’t even breathe.

  Her vision began to fade to black. Small beads of light danced in front of her eyes. A kind, familiar voice whispered from the darkness. “Time grows short. You must stop fighting.” Her family. Her Grandfather. Weird to call him that. His words rang in her ears. She couldn’t tell if she recalled them from memory or if he sought her again. “Stop fighting.”

  “I can’t. I’ll die.” Even now, the last slice of oxygen left her lungs. Her body flowed to the pavement like water. It would end here. Midnight hair, high cheekbones, and a solemn yet luscious mouth formed in her mind’s eye. Once again with no warning, Talon’s face appeared in her darkest hour. It made no sense. This attraction wasn’t rationale, wasn’t logical. It was a fantasy and nothing more. So, why in her last moments did she think of him? She didn’t have time to ponder as the energy faded from her.

  With no fight remaining, she stopped. Stopped fighting, stopped breathing, stopped trying, just stopped. The fire ratcheted into her core, a semi truck running over every square inch of her. Invisible spiders danced along her skin. At least it’s not melted, she thought as the fire caressed her. She tried to flick the imaginary insects away. The movement brought her attention to her hands, her wrists, her arms. “I did it.”

  The startling revelation brought tears to her eyes. She’d finally done it. She’d controlled the fire, not Guy. “I’m free.” Her insides warmed with contentment instead of rage.

  Not quite, pet.

  Sera cursed. As she determined the most obnoxious metal music she could conjure, Guy directed her mind to the end of the alley. Her heart pounded against her ribs. The pulse at her wrists throbbed. A set of wild blue eyes locked on her. She kicked up the bass to ten, blocking out Guy’s taunts, and prayed her new control over the fire would last.

  Chapter 9

  EN ROUTE TO TIP-OFF LOCALE, PHOENIX, ARIZONA

  Talon’s ears buzzed. The bar to the location of Drake’s mystery caller turned out to be less than two miles away. With the bikes blazing over a hundred MPH, the trip took under a minute. It wasn’t nearly enough time for Talon to get the wolf under control.

  When Drake passed a five-car pile-up complete with a burning van at the center, Talon didn’t even blink. If he had any of his wits left, he would have stopped, lead or no lead. The wolf refused to allow it. His animalistic impulses—a lure for all shifters—hadn’t controlled him in years, but the strain of this case, his illogical and primal attraction to Sera, and the vamp’s taunts proved his breaking point.

  “Ease up, buddy. I don’t need you causing an interspecies war here.” Drake’s voice sounded like gravel through the headset, but with their bikes feet apart, even that small bit of technology was unnecessary. Talon’s increased hearing picked up sounds as far as a quarter mile away. “You need to change back. If you go beast on me, we’re not going to catch this break.”

  The Harley eased off, coming up a yard shy of a corner mailbox. Talon followed suit, trying to slow down his breathing along with the bike. Shedding his helmet, he squeezed his eyes shut and repeated, “Steady.” The word bounced around his brain, pushing the shifter urges to a dull humming.

  “I’m almost there. Give me another minute,” Talon said. The hairs on his limbs began to recede.

  “No problem. Our contact is staying in the shadows until I give the high sign.” Drake hopped off his ride and leaned against the mailbox. “Take your time, but not too much.”

  The call of the wolf, the howling in his head, mixed with his mantra, making it difficult to focus. As a full shifter, Talon’s ability to turn linked directly to his emotions. Most of the time, he used strategy to choose the animal based on the situation. When his anger increased, however, a wolf’s fury surged forth. Once unleashed, the beast grew almost impossible to harness. He needed to calm down.

  “Steady.” The word lacked conviction.

  “Listen, Talon.” Drake’s tone dropped, a hint of the vamp’s true strength emerging. His cadence grew formal. “I humbly apologize,” a smirk radiated in his voice, “for riling you up.”

  The uncharacteristic move from the cocky vamp provided the balm for Talon’s anger. The drive to kill dissipated along with the shift. Rubbing at a knot in his neck, he said, “Don’t piss me off again.”

  “Roger that, chief.” Drake winked, then glanced over Talon’s shoulder to a silhouette between two buildings. His index and middle fingers scraped past his fangs, resting on either side of his tongue. A sharp whistle brought the concealed figure out of hiding.

  A female vampire, lean and lethal, stepped forward. Her eyes, hair, leather jacket and skintight ensemble all shared the same shade of perfect black. Dried blood caked one side of her head, matting the hair to her scalp. The sight only made her appear more dangerous.

  Talon growled, stopping ten feet shy of her. Any closer and he might strike.

  “Easy shifter. Let’s not start that again. She called us.” Drake muttered the
warning, but no doubt, the vamp heard it as well. She didn’t come near.

  “My dear special agent, how nice to meet you at last.” She nodded her head a fraction of an inch. “Drake, do not be rude. Introduce us.”

  The blood swam in Talon’s veins like ice water. The sudden change from raging fire to this extreme cold left him numb. The female vamp’s melodic voice reminded him of a single piano chord in an empty room. The sound didn’t affect him as much as the implication in her greeting. He gritted his teeth, eyeing Drake, and choked out a question. “How do you know her?”

  “Talon, this is Strife. She is the leader of Veritas on this side of the globe.” He motioned in her direction and shrugged. “She’s over three hundred years old. There are few vampires who don’t know her.”

  “Tsk. Tsk.” Her finger sprang up, wiggling as if to reprimand a child. “It’s unkind to reveal a female’s age. And you sorely understate our relationship.” She clapped. “No matter. We’ve more important things to discuss.”

  “Indeed,” Drake said. “If you wouldn’t mind, the PCD is eager to learn of the girl’s whereabouts.” He cast a glance up and down the vacant street. “It’d be in your favor to give us the details.”

  Talon noted how his “buddy” skirted around the issue of how well he knew the other vamp. The omission caused his nose to twitch. He couldn’t smell lies, but it didn’t stop his senses from going wild. PCD’s civilian vampire liaison and “friend” stunk like a rat—or a double agent. Drake’s stoic gaze revealed nothing.

  “As you wish,” Strife said. Her head leaned back against a convenient store’s brick wall. With eyes half closed, she zeroed in on Talon. “Special Agent Talon Rede, not yet in your third decade of life.” She cocked her hip to the side. “Did you know a vampire can live thousands of years? Thousands. And still, I am already considered old.” Her voice fell, a hint of sorrow resonating. “So many of us fall before our time. You’ve no idea the dangers you face.”

  Drake took a step forward as if to interrupt her, but she stopped him short with an arctic glare. A silver splash of moonlight lit the street. It drew her gaze as she beamed at the waning moon like an old friend. She inhaled. “I’ve allowed my thoughts to wander. We have other matters to discuss. Let me say this simply.” Her chin dropped and her face fell into a neutral expression. “I am of Veritas and though, we are more experienced than your PCD, we are not enemies. Yet, you seem to think us so.” The air grew thin. Her voice rose. “Veritas has existed since the dawn of creation. Since the birth of vampires and shifters, psyke and,” she paused with a frown, “And phage.”

  A sharp intake of air hissed between Talon’s teeth. He couldn’t help the breath anymore than the tingling sensations in his body. All of his instincts went on red alert. Willpower and a burning curiosity stayed his feet to the floor. “What do you know about phage?”

  “A helluva lot more than you.” She laughed. Her language dropped that strange cadence and flowed now in modern speech. “You’ve no clue what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  “Enough of the games.” Talon lunged forward. His hands stretched like claws. The urge to shake the vamp into talking sense overwhelmed everything else. He stopped before reaching her throat.

  Strife didn’t move. Her face a bland mask, almost bored, or waiting to see what he’d do next.

  A breeze drifted down the street and with it time stilled. Talon sniffed the wind, still poised to attack. His hands fell away as he crouched down. Taking in large gulps of air, he stiffened. “Sun dried clothes, a hint of apple—Sera.”

  “She’s safe,” Strife whispered, her tone taking on a soothing melody. “I was injured and couldn’t follow, but I’ve no doubt she’s already handled our attackers.” She reached a tentative hand toward him, but pulled back when his lips stretched over his front teeth in a growl. She continued untroubled, “We were trying to get her to the airport to take her some place safe. A group of phage blindsided our van with an explosive device.” She pointed at the dried blood on her head. “You need to get her out of here. Phoenix is not safe for her.”

  A wave of nausea hit full force. He pictured Sera lying on the pavement, her body broken and bloody. He clamped down the bile. “Where is she?”

  “You do not understand.” The striking piano chord returned to her voice. “I must tell you more about these creatures, first. You do not know their capabilities.”

  He stood up. His fists tightened at his side. “I’ll ask you one more time,” he said, fighting back the rage. Panic gripped him hard. Fear for his—no, not his. He needed to remember Sera didn’t belong to him. Yet, his instincts screamed otherwise. He rallied on the vamp. “If you don’t give me an answer, I’ll rip out your throat.”

  Drake moved without sound, wrapping Talon around the waist in a deadlocked grip. “Easy,” he warned.

  “It is unnecessary,” Strife said, batting at Drake’s arms. “Release him. He worries for the girl. Let him go to her.”

  The hold on him slackened as Drake loosened the pressure. Talon slammed an elbow backward, catching the traitorous bastard in the ribs. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He threw the words over his shoulder, not sparing a glance. His attention remained fixed on Strife. “Where is she?”

  “She ran off that way. Several of them were at her heels.” She pointed east. “But I don’t think you have to be concerned. Sera’s quite capable of defending herself.” A hum played on her lips. “In fact, I’d be careful when you approach her. She may mistake you for the enemy.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” he said, spinning on his heel and ignoring the implications of Strife’s words. He fisted a handful of Drake’s shirt and yanked him forward. “I’m calling in the team. You and that creature over there better be here when they arrive.” He shoved the stunned vamp. Drake staggered two steps before catching his balance.

  Talon didn’t waste another second on either of them. Running in the direction Strife indicated, he caught the scent again. Two blocks further, he paused. Stop acting like a damn rookie and do your job. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out his cell, and texted an emergency all call message with coordinates to the team. That taken care of, he shed his clothes and stuffed them behind a dumpster. With the barrier gone, he shifted. The coyote would have been preferable for the Arizona climate, but the wolf called to him.

  His back hunched over until his knuckles scraped the street. Fur sprouted from every pore, a rich black that mimicked his hair’s natural shade. His eyes sharpened to laser points encircled by their usual blue. Bones snapped and reformed. The transition erupted so fast, the pain had no time to settle.

  As Talon’s mind let go of its human brainwaves and the animal instincts began to take over, he caught the scent trail stronger than before. His paws burned against the asphalt as he ran to catch up to its source. In the wolf form, his strong hind legs pumped raw power and speed. The wind breaking against his muzzle sent a thrilling shiver down his fur. He reveled in the freedom of movement, his muscles expanding and contracting with the run.

  Far too soon, he slowed to a walk. His nose picked up the repugnant stench of burnt flesh. A stream of dying light like coal embers peaked from around a corner. With tail raised and teeth bared, he stalked the rays. His spine stiffened, prepared for anything. At least he thought he was ready until he caught sight of her.

  Sera stood at the end of a dead-end street, bathed in a blinding yellow light. Her skin glowed as if on fire. Her hair danced like flames. A haze of power emanated from her, a clear warning not to come near.

  Despite the danger, Talon couldn’t keep away. Her appearance may have changed, but her scent remained constant. The clean, crisp aroma with that hint of apple invaded his psyche, driving him to the brink. The wolf’s primitive instincts wanted to go to her. Yet, his animal form at once seemed a prison as he yearned to be a man before her, his human hands caressing her body. Her skin would be soft and hot, tasting like her natural fragrance. Would she yield to his advances or burn him alive
? He wanted—no needed to find out.

  As he inched closer, her light singed his fur. It didn’t matter. He itched to shift, to know her touch. He held back, afraid of scaring her. It was his last sensible thought. Need rode him hard. If the embrace of her fire was all he could have, he’d gladly allow himself to be consumed by the blaze.

  With a primal howl, he leapt forward.

  Chapter 10

  TWO BLOCKS FROM VAN WRECKAGE, PHOENIX, ARIZONA

  Sirens blared as Drake faced Strife on the empty city street. As if in agreement not to break the standoff, neither moved, nor even breathed. The air grew dense equal to the strain. The glow from an orange streetlamp cast their long shadows on the pavement.

  Drake fixed his gaze on her mouth, careful to avoid a war with her inky black eyes. He curled his upper lip, a predatory sign. Less than half the female vampire’s age, he couldn’t match her strength. It didn’t matter. The Devil take him before he’d roll over like a dog.

  A lazy grin met his snarl. “My dear Drake, this display is unnecessary. We are old friends.” She raised an eyebrow as her words switched from gentle raindrops to cold searing wind. “Though you seem to have forgotten.”

  “No,” he said low. “I haven’t.” He stared at the concrete. The gray cracks in the cement matched his mood.

  “Did I not help you once?”

  Her voice ate at his mind, willing him to recall their connection. Grinding his teeth caused his fangs to cut into his bottom lip. He welcomed the taste of blood. The medley of city noises ceased; her words filled his head.

  “When everything was taken from you, did I not give you the strength to fight back?” Her presence lingered over him like a wraith.

  “You’ve done right by me.” Drake laughed with bitterness. “I won’t betray you.”

  “Ah, there’s the vampire I remember.” For a few brief moments, her notes slipped into a quasi-modern American accent. Each vowel clipped shorter than her formal tongue. “Best not get on my bad side, though. You’re already walking a fine line with that display to the shifter.”

 

‹ Prev