Huntress Claimed

by Eva Brandt

  The huntress made her way to the edge of the pool and climbed out. At the last moment, a tentacle of shadow grabbed her and dragged her back down.

  “You should give up already,” I told her when she resurfaced. “You can’t escape me.”

  “Never,” she stammered. “I’ll never give up. I don’t belong to you. And hunters… Hunters fight to the very end. That is our code.”

  “Charming,” I said with a laugh. “But what you fail to realize, Imogen Julius, is that the end has already come for you. You’ve crossed the finish line. You’ve reached the end of your path. Be a good girl and surrender. It won’t hurt anymore.”

  “I’m not afraid of pain,” she snapped back.

  I hummed thoughtfully. “Good. I’d have been disappointed if you were.”

  With a thought, I heated the pool of shadows, turning it into hot, molten lava. She screamed as her skin, flesh and bones started to melt. “N-No! H-Help! Help me!”

  But there was no one there to help her and no one to put a stop to what I was doing. I could keep this up forever, trap her in a cage of never-ending torment. None of this was physically real. She couldn’t burn alive, because her physical body wasn’t here. But that wasn’t a good thing. Instead of helping her, the last threads that anchored her to the real world were turning her inside out, leaving her completely at my mercy.

  Truth be told, I took little pleasure in this. Even in her agony, as Imogen Julius, she was still beautiful. The sight of her struggling form reminded me of the promise I’d made, of the bride who was still waiting for me.

  I didn’t want to hurt my mate, not really. But that was exactly why this unpleasant business was necessary and why Imogen Julius had to surrender to me.

  “Everything will be okay if you just let go,” I promised her. But she didn’t believe me and she stayed, refusing to be daunted by the fiery shadows.

  I was getting exasperated with her. I’d already failed to secure my bride several times and now, I had Roman to worry about. I wouldn’t allow Imogen to get in my way too. She might be stubborn, but no amount of stubbornness could counter the dark magic of my kind.

  Unfortunately, after my disastrous attempt to steal my mate, Imogen had become even more insistent and more annoying than before. If I didn’t take permanent steps, she could become a real problem. But most of the rituals who could fix that involved the physical form of the intended victim, which I didn’t have. Once again, I was thwarted by those damn werewolves who’d caused this whole mess in the first place.

  With a disgruntled huff, I added an extra layer to the spell torturing Imogen. The lava turned into ice and just the temperature shock would have killed her had she been alive. She screamed again, the sound grating on me more than I’d have liked to admit.

  It didn’t take long for her cries to die into choked murmurs. Now completely encased in ice, she looked at me with desperate eyes and asked, “W-What? W-What are you doing?”

  “You might be able to handle pain, little huntress,” I told her, “but I wonder how you’ll deal with the absence of all sensation. Will you let yourself drift away into nothing while the ice consumes you?”

  She didn’t answer, but I could see she was still just as determined as before. I knew better than to underestimate her, so I didn’t dare to dream that this particular spell would be enough to make her give up. But the numbness of the ice would keep her pliant and buy me some time while I figured out a permanent solution.

  With a mental sigh, I loosened my hold on the Veil and returned to my own physical body. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in my ritual chamber, with Kade watching over me.

  “How long have you been standing there?” I asked him with a tired sigh.

  “Long enough to know you still haven’t made progress,” he replied. “Not that I’m surprised. This project was always complicated.”

  “Yes, but I’m finally seeing results. I won’t give up now of all times.”

  “I know you won’t and I’d never ask you to. But for the moment, you might want to make some time for the needs of the horde.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Kade,” I told him. “The horde is perfectly fine.”

  “Your fellow demons are concerned about the imminent battle between us and the Popovic coven,” Kade replied, his voice calm and mellow.

  I wasn’t fooled. My horde members might have been worried about the prospects of breaking the truce with the undead, but in their hearts, they also appreciated the chance to cause a little more havoc. Vampires and demons fought well side by side, because our abilities could be similar. But in every other way, we clashed, our customs, traditions, and loyalties too different for us to trust one another. Vladimir had been an exception and he’d actively tried to bridge the cultural gap between our two peoples. But Vladimir was dead now and I had no obligations to treat his younger brother the same way.

  The DUTHRA gave me plenty of leeway and other demons knew I wouldn’t allow my own interests to harm the future of the horde. But Kade was still a werewolf, so he didn’t trust demonic contracts as much as I did.

  It was actually surprising, because he’d never shown doubt before, but I didn’t mind, nor did I blame him for it. Being cautious wasn’t a bad thing. If anything, it was necessary, when three-quarters of the people around us were planning to kill us.

  “After all this time, Kade, I’d expect you to come out and admit it when you have an issue instead of making vague statements like that.”

  Kade let out a slow breath. “Fine. The horde is incredibly enthusiastic about the idea of tricking the undead with their own treaty. But I’m not so sure about this, Daimon. Magical contracts aren’t something we should mess around with on a whim.”

  I chuckled, even if his comment didn’t amuse me at all. “I’m a demon, remember? I know that better than anyone.”

  “Yes, I’m aware. But you’re talking about making a move that could potentially destabilize world order as we know it. We can’t afford to lose the support of the undead as a whole, not even for your mate.”

  “No, we can’t,” I answered without missing a beat. “But you know the charming thing about vampires? You can always rely on them to look the other way while someone else destroys a coven, as long as they’re guaranteed to be given their share of the spoils later. They’re the ultimate scavengers. The other vampires won’t care what we do to the Popovic coven as long as we don’t attempt to seize power in their territory. If anything, they’ll be grateful to us. I can’t imagine the switch in leaders was taken well. The other covens in the area will want to gain more power now that Vladimir is dead, and we can use their greed.

  “No demon horde will ever attempt to take over an undead coven. No undead coven will interfere with the territory of a demon horde. That’s what the DUTHRA says.”

  “Yes, it does, but Roman knows that. He’s aware he might be betrayed by his own kind. We can’t afford to be too overconfident, Daimon, or this might still blow up in our face.”

  “That’s why I’ll be waiting for him to make the first move.” When my friend still didn’t look convinced, a chill ran over my spine. “Kade, what is this all about, really? It’s not like you to get cold feet.”

  “I have a bad feeling. I just can’t shake it, but ever since you got that letter… Something’s bugging me about this whole thing.”

  “Oh?” I prodded.

  “Doesn’t it strike you as strange that Vladimir would go to such lengths to help you with your project? He might have been a little closer to demons than other vampires, but he only fought for his own kind.”

  “I know, Kade, but if the ritual had gone as planned and Vladimir had survived, I’d have owed him a huge debt.”

  “I think there’s more to it than that. The Julii would never abandon one of their own. I have to wonder, Daimon, if this isn’t some kind of trap—for you and your bride.”

  I thought about the frozen form of Imogen Julius, hidden deep beyond the Veil, untouchable. “If
it is, they’ve sacrificed the huntress for nothing. I won’t lose. I don’t know what Vladimir had in mind, Kade, but I’m too old to be afraid of anyone, even another immortal.”

  Still, Kade had a point. It wouldn’t hurt to take some extra steps to prepare. Like I’d told Imogen, I’d been fighting her clan for millennia. If my people had persevered, it was because we were always several steps ahead.

  “Come on then. Let’s see to the needs of the horde.”

  Kade didn’t show it, but he was relieved. We left the ritual chamber and summoned a meeting with every single member of the horde, and he took advantage of the opportunity to demonstrate several of the most lethal spells the undead had in their arsenal.

  I’d have liked to think it was just his sadistic side rearing its ugly head, but my confrontation with Imogen still haunted me. Kade might think the vampires had planned this and maybe he was right, but the biggest threat still remained her, the trapped huntress.

  Chapter Two

  Imogen

  “You know, Imogen, when Alpha Brooks first brought you here, I had my doubts, but now, I know better. I’m so glad you came to the pack.”

  I sat on the soft bed, struggling not to fidget or feel too uncomfortable. Ulysses’s friend Gypsy threaded her fingers through my hair, her nimble hands easily creating braids from my stubborn locks.

  My mates had left this morning for a patrol of unspecified nature and they’d asked Gypsy to keep me company. I’d have gotten angry at all the babysitting, but Gypsy had been kind and had done everything in her power to make me relax in her presence.

  After everything that had happened, it still seemed a little unbelievable that the pack would welcome me in this way. No matter how I looked at it, the fact remained that I’d brought trouble onto these shifters. But they’d accepted it and had accepted me as one of their own. It meant more than I could ever say. That was why I vowed to do my very best to embrace this new way of life.

  “Thank you, Gypsy,” I told her. “I’m glad too.”

  “Are you?” she asked curiously. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t doubt that you like being here. But you had another family before, didn’t you?”

  There was no accusation in Gypsy’s voice, nothing to suggest that she’d have blamed me for any nostalgia I felt over my old life. Even so, she needn’t have worried. “I did, yes. Or so I thought at the time. But it looks like some things are more important than others. They abandoned me when I needed them most. I can’t forgive that. And to be honest, I don’t want to. I’ve found something better here.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” Gypsy said with a light laugh. She finished binding my hair and tugged on it lightly. “It’s their loss and our gain.”

  I turned toward her, her words reminding me of my lingering doubts. “Not yet. I haven’t done anything to deserve the title of member of the pack.”

  It was one of the things that still frustrated me. In my life as a huntress, I’d had a real role, a way to contribute to our ultimate purpose. But here, I was stashed away and protected. While I appreciated the care and affection my lovers displayed toward me, I couldn’t help but feel that I was a burden to them. That was the last thing I wanted.

  I had left my life as a huntress behind, but that didn’t mean I was weak. I could still fight for the people I loved.

  I must have said at least some of that out loud, because Gypsy offered me a small smile. “Yes, you can, I guess, although it’s not really our decision to make. The Alpha has the final say in what duties each person is given in the pack.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Xander is so protective of me. There’s no way he’ll allow me to become a fighter, especially after what happened last time. Hell, he refused to leave me on my own while he, Ulysses, and Byron were away.”

  “You have a point,” Gypsy mused. “But maybe he just needs a little push in the right direction then. Come on.”

  Gypsy got up and ushered me out of my room. She guided me out of Xander’s section of the werewolf lair, toward an area I hadn’t visited before.

  I already knew the underground home of the pack was huge, but I’d been so wrapped up in my own pain and fear that I hadn’t explored it much. Gypsy fixed that, but not a lot. She didn’t take me on a tour or anything like that. She seemed to be headed in a very specific direction. “You’ll like this,” she promised me. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

  I had my doubts about it at first, but I was quickly proven wrong. The large corridor we were in opened into another massive hall. The moment I saw it, a shocking wave of familiarity rushed over me.

  The cavern was full of people and all of them were training. I blinked and for a few seconds, I was back in the hunters’ home, watching Alan Lee spar with the others and waiting for my own turn. I was standing in the range, aiming my gun at a moving target shaped like a flying vampire. I was receiving my first daggers and weighing them in my hands with a smile.

  It was only for a second and then, the unwanted memories faded away into nothing. I realized this place was nothing like the hunters’ base. The shifters were practicing fighting methods, but their ways had very little in common with the training I’d done.

  Five werewolves were changing shapes over and over, with an instructor standing next to them and watching them with a critical eye. “Faster! Do it faster!”

  Other shifters were engaged in sparring matches, sometimes in humanoid form, other times in their lupine shape. They used their bodies as weapons and didn’t resort to any kind of secondary tool.

  Still, it was pretty amazing and I had to give Gypsy credit. I did like it. “Wow, Gypsy. This is where you guys train? This is great.”

  “This session is pretty standard and open to most of the youngest members of the pack,” Gypsy explained. “Some of us who are fighters act as teachers when we’re not actively on an expedition.”

  By now, the others had already noticed us, but they didn’t stop what they were doing. Gypsy nodded in silent greeting at all of them and I followed her example. Then, we made our way through the cavern, toward its uppermost section.

  Two werewolves were there, involved in one-on-one combat. It was far fiercer than the other sparring sessions. The older of the two, a muscular female, showed her opponent, a young man, no mercy. She was very fast when she shifted, although not as fast as my lovers. When she moved, her motions were carefully controlled and her claws drew blood every time she lunged forward.

  I recognized her, of course. Her name was Sandra Howe and she was among the shifters most trusted by Xander. She’d participated in the attack on Vladimir Popovic’s compound. We hadn’t talked at the time, but I’d spoken to her in passing since then.

  “You’re not good enough!” she spat at the younger werewolf. “At this rate, you’ll only get your fellow pack members killed.”

  “I won’t,” he replied. “I can do—”

  Sandra cut him off mid-sentence by punching him in the face. The moment her fist made contact with his nose, I heard the sound of crunching bone. He went down like a rock and didn’t get up. “You really can’t,” she said. “It was a good effort, but you’ll have to try again. It would appear I have other guests.”

  The words might have seemed directed at the unconscious shifter, but she was, in fact, talking to us. She turned toward us and arched an inquiring brow. “Gypsy, Imogen, what can I do for you?”

  “We were wondering if you could help train Imogen, Sandra,” Gypsy said.

  “Oh? And does the Alpha know about this?”

  “Obviously not,” I replied with a sigh. “If we’d told him about it beforehand, he’d have been against it. He, Byron, and Ulysses are under the impression that I’m some kind of porcelain doll and I’m about to crack any moment now.”

  To be fair, I hadn’t done a lot to prove that wasn’t true. The memories of what had happened at the compound had haunted me so much that I hadn’t even deemed fighting an option. But Daimon had already made it clear that he wasn’t
going to stop just because I didn’t want to be his bride. Staying out of this battle wasn’t an option.

  Of course, there was a good chance Sandra wouldn’t see things that way. She might be more inclined to knock me out than to help train me.

  But Gypsy seemed confident and I wasn’t ready to give up so easily. “I know I don’t have the best history when it comes to fighting demons,” I said, “but—”

  “What are you talking about?” Sandra asked, interrupting me before I could finish my impassioned plea. Apparently, this was something she did a lot, although in my case, it wasn’t because she didn’t believe me. “You did very well when you confronted the demon.”

  I blinked at her stupidly. “I did?”

  “Of course, Imogen,” Gypsy replied in Sandra’s stead. “You held the demon off. You might have used an unconventional method, but it worked. We respect that.”

  A shadow crossed Sandra’s face. “More than fighting a demon, you faced your own fears. I don’t think I could have done that. Done what you did. You were very brave.”

  Our gazes met and in the depths of her eyes, I saw a silent, deep grief. She’d lost family to the undead. She carried a terrible burden and for a moment there, I could almost feel its weight crushing me, stealing the breath from my lungs. I stood my ground and didn’t turn away.

  “I only did what anyone else would have done. I want to protect the people I care about. That’s all there is to it.”

  “True,” Sandra replied, the tension in her stance hiding behind her facade of strength once again. “Sometimes, it really is that simple. Here’s what I can do for you, Imogen. I can give you some fighting lessons. By now, you’re likely a little out of practice and out of shape. It’s a good idea to train, even if you never become part of an actual attack squad. If you want to convince the Alpha to include you in an official unit, you can do that at a later date, once we get a clearer idea on where we are with your skills.”