The Hunters Series

by Shiloh Walker

  “Damn it, Lori—”

  Eli laughed gently. “Sarel, love. She made him drink it, the bloody bitter brew, down to the last drop before we had barely realized there was even a problem.”

  Eli could almost see the anger and worry that deflated her, and wasn’t sure what to make of the nerves that replaced it. “All of it? Without arguing?”

  With the slow, characteristic curve of his lips, Eli said, “Jonathan doesn’t argue with Lori, love. He did exactly what she told him to do and then lay down for the healing like a good boy. And she’s a bloody good witch. Your equal, in fact. She’s just not the warrior you are. She’s a Healer.”

  Lori studied the mark on Jonathan’s side. It was closed, scarred but closed. And faded, nearly normal looking on the lean, smooth golden skin of his muscled body.

  Except for the Scythe.

  The Scythe.

  With a deep, sighing breath, she rested a hand above it as Rafe and Sheila moved in behind her. Eli had called his people home. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was a good thing.

  That Scythe couldn’t stay there on his skin. It was something evil, and draining—foul. Trying to mark him.

  “Jonathan, love,” she whispered absently, tracing her fingers along the rough, ridged skin of the mark, shuddering as the cold skin there tried to leech into her and grab. It was the cold of death, true death, a poison under the skin that would slowly drain the life out of him, maybe even any who touched him and tried to save him, as it pulled everything under its cold, evil spell.

  And held you there.

  Forever.

  “They’ve marked you, some kind of binding spell. I have to break it,” she whispered, lifting up and looking at him, her hair falling about her face as she stared down into his eyes, those dark eyes she had dreamed about for years.”I don’t know what will happen if I don’t.”

  “And exactly how do you break it?” Rafe asked, moving up out of the shadows. Inky black hair spilled into his eyes and he flicked it away with an impatient hand. “You’re a young witch, kid. Eli will not be happy, Sarel will not be happy if anything happens to you.”

  Flicking the dark-haired vampire an impatient glance, Lori smiled. “Stop worrying,” she said, turning her eyes back to Jonathan. Bending down, Lori opened herself to the magick and just let it fill her.

  Chapter Two

  Those soft golden-green eyes were glowing and fiery, with little flames licking around the irises. Jonathan felt her hands land on his sides, just above his hipbones. The palm of her right hand lying over the fresh, newly healed skin of the scar on his side, still feeling so cool, until she touched it. It was hot, very hot, under her touch—the skin quivering as she settled her hands on it.

  A deep growl rumbled in his throat as her head lowered over his abdomen and her hair tickled his belly. His cock ached, swelling in the confines of his jeans as blood started to pound more heavily in his veins. The scent of woman and magick mingled in his mind until they were one, and both were Lori.

  At her touch, Jonathan arched up in agony as burning, tearing pain ripped through him. Lori was tearing something evil from inside him and it didn’t want to let go. Taking him over wasn’t something she would allow this evil to do. But to take a place inside him and slowly force him aside, well, that it might accomplish.

  “Hold him—”

  Through the pain that racked his body, Jonathan heard that harsh barking order that came from her mind but he couldn’t move to help her. What had the little witch gotten into now? And damn it, why couldn’t he move his arms? What was wrong with his head?

  His head—

  “Son of a bitch!” he roared, arching his back and bellowing as agony arced through him.

  Then a gentle billowing kiss of cool, soft air brushed over his skin and he gasped, sucking breath in desperately as he felt a hand reach in just under his skin, working at the small, hard little knot, like a root. But the tree was trying to grow inside.

  Two pairs of hands, vamp-cool and hard, came down on him, pinning his shoulders and legs. Hair, scented with plumeria, fell across his face and her voice, soft and gently soothing, came to his ear. “Easy, Jon…easy there. Lori’s nearly done, ‘kay? Just…damn it…calm down.”

  Power trickled and rolled through him, starting to pulse in the room as a deeper voice said, “Damn it. Lori, you’d better hurry. The animal inside him is getting mad and the wolf is getting worried. Jonathan will not be able to keep from changing for too long.”

  “Rafe, five seconds. Shhhh…”

  “Lori, if he changes like this—” a deep, muttered grunt sounded through the room.”Unaware, in pain, he may attack.”

  “He won’t hurt me, Rafe. The wolf won’t let him. He won’t let himself,” Lori murmured. Then a soft, ragged gasp and silence.

  “Let him go. It is gone,” Lori whispered.

  Jonathan felt her hand on his side again, hot and open as the pain faded and blew away, like ashes in the wind. Fisting his hand in her hair, he opened his eyes on a ragged sigh.

  And then wished he would have caught his breath first.

  Sheila and Rafe had backed away, both with eyes shuttered, but glowing under the hoods of their lashes.

  And there was Lori, lifting up from her knees and staring down at his side, tracing her hand over the mark on his skin.”Their mark is gone,” she whispered softly, then she lifted her gaze and met his, her pale green eyes glowing, soft, sweet, but strong and confident—powerful.

  He felt the punch of that look in his gut as he grabbed her.

  Lori...whom he had always wanted.

  Lori...whom he had been so careful to keep his distance from. And here she was.

  He forgot about Sheila, forgot about Rafe. Control was a forgotten thing as he tumbled the pretty witch onto his chest and rolled. He pinned her under him, pushing his tongue into her mouth and groaning hungrily at the sweet, dark taste of her. Wedging a knee between hers, he pumped his cock against the damp cleft there and skimmed his hands up her sides, palming one breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

  The sounds of ragged breathing, increased heart rates and the scent of aroused female came to him as he kissed his way down Lori’s neck. Sheila’s shuddering sigh caressed his skin, a sound that normally would be so welcome, but now was an intrusion.

  Pulling his mouth from Lori’s, he glanced to the side and growled to Sheila and Rafe, “Go away.”

  Rafe flashed his fangs. “Watch your step, pup. I’m not yours to command.” His eyes slid down and rested on the soft curve of Lori’s hip, where Jonathan’s hand gripped it, and the vampire moved forward, his lids drooping. “And maybe she doesn’t want to be here with you, damn it.”

  “If she doesn’t, then she can say. Now get the fuck out,” Jonathan snarled again. He ached. Lori’s scent filled his head, and his blood pounded heavily in his veins, surging and throbbing in his cock as he stared into Rafe’s gleaming eyes.

  Rafe just watched him for a minute and then flicked his gaze to Lori. “You okay, kid? If you want to leave, just say the word.”

  Lori sucked in a breath. But she said nothing.

  Sheila smiled, a bit of envy in her gaze as she ran her eyes over Lori who was still gasping and reeling from the effects of the magick coursing through her veins. Then she stepped in front of Rafe, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder, offering him a teasing smile as she slid her hands up his chest. “It looks like we’re not welcome here. Why don’t we go and find something to amuse ourselves with, sugar?” she drawled, stroking her finger over his full lower lip.

  When he reached to grip her waist and move her aside, she stumbled into him and Jonathan smelled the musk of vampire blood filling the air. “Oh! How careless of me, Rafe, I’m sorry. I hope you’re not hungry,” Sheila murmured as she moved aside, holding up the finger she had sliced against one of his extended fangs.

  Sliding it between her lips, she licked the blood away, smiling a coquette’s smile
at him as she drew the gleaming finger out, and cocked her head at him. More blood welled and he focused his glowing eyes on her, a deep, shuddering breath racking his large frame.

  “You like to mess with fire, little Southern Belle?” Rafe murmured, moving a little closer, his eyes locked on the bead of blood that hung on the tip of her finger.

  Locking his fingers around her wrist, he brought it to his mouth and slid her fingertip between his lips, sucking it as he stared into her eyes.

  “Take her and go, Rafe,” Jonathan growled as he turned back to Lori.

  He didn’t hear them leave, but he knew they had all the same.

  Sucking air into his lungs, Jonathan focused inward and sent the animal back inside. With a soft sigh it retreated, to once again slumber as Jonathan turned his head, staring over his shoulder at Lori. Her hazy eyes, still glinting with lights of gold as she blinked sleepily at him, were just now clearing of the magick.

  He crawled over to her as she sat up, eying him warily. “I can feel your magick inside me, Lori, your touch, your breath, your taste. I want more.” All this time, he’d kept it under control. All this time...and now he was breaking.

  Breaking. And he didn’t fucking care.

  Rising onto his knees, Jonathan caught her behind the neck and pulled her up against him, sealing his mouth to hers and tasting her deeply, fully.

  Sliding his tongue into past her lips, stroking it across the roof, the insides of her cheeks, across her teeth—every part he could touch, Jonathan touched. Every part of her mouth he could taste, he tasted. Moving his hands down her shoulders and arms to cup her breasts, he massaged them restlessly as he urged her back to the floor.

  Gasping in her throat as he wedged his thigh between hers, she rode the muscled length with her warm, wet cleft. Sweet, soft little moans built in her chest as Jonathan kissed his way down her chin and throat, along the loose neckline of her T-shirt. Through it, he could smell her skin, her arousal, her need.

  And he wanted to taste it all.

  Closing his mouth over the pebbled crest of one nipple, he swirled his tongue around it, sucking it deep into his mouth. Damn…her taste, it exploded on his tongue—honeyed innocence, power, seduction, purity. Everything he had wanted and needed from her for years, but refused himself. Ever since Lori had come to Eli’s enclave, Jonathan had wanted her, an innocent woman-child of nineteen—and for seven long years he had ignored that want.

  With his hand flat against her torso, he slid it down over her belly, her pubis, until he cupped her, feeling her hot, molten wetness through the thin layers of the chiffon skirt. Sliding the wispy material back and forth over her, he groaned around her breast as he felt the wet heat of her through her clothing.

  Lifting his head, he stared down at her, blinking slowly. Power rippled through him and rolled down his spine, shuddering off his skin as he watched her face. Her eyes opened languidly as she licked her lips, as though tasting him. Jonathan groaned, and forced himself not to take—

  Maybe she doesn’t want to be here with you, damn it. Fuck. If he took this from her without knowing, he’d skin himself with silver. No. He’d let Rafe do it.

  Not yet. They couldn’t do this yet. Not unless she wanted it. Her. Not just her body.

  Forcing the words through his tight throat, he slowly rubbed his sex against her, once, then again. Watching as she arched toward him, he whispered, “Look at me, Lori. Do you want this? Me?”

  A slow, female smile—that Mona Lisa smile that had been driving men insane for centuries—curved her lips and she slid her hands up his chest, behind his neck, and then fisted them in his hair, bringing his face down to hers.

  “Would I be here if I didn’t?” She rolled her hips against him, and Jonathan bit off a ragged cry as her damp heat caressed his covered cock. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to be right here, Jonathan? Just like this? For months and months, years and years…if you don’t touch me now, I just might turn you into a flying cockroach.”

  His control shattered. Gripping her shirt in his hands, he ripped it from her. Flexing his hand, claws emerged and he slid them under her bra, slicing it away as he stared into her eyes, looking for any sign of fear. The claws slid back into his hand like water evaporating as he reached for the skirt, taking both skirt and panties in hand and pulling them down her hips in one long, smooth slide.

  Kneeling at her feet, his hair falling around his shoulders, Jonathan stared at her body. Gazing along the ivory length of it, so soft, as perfect as carved alabaster, and the scent of her filled his head and made him drunk. His mouth was watering as he reached for her ankles and slowly pushed them apart, sliding his hands up the length of her legs.

  As he moved them apart, he lay forward until he was kneeling between her thighs, his face hovering just above the junction of her thighs. He stared with unconcealed hunger at the naked mound of her sex, topped with a small, neatly trimmed patch of red curls. “Soft, smooth…just how I like it…sweet,” he growled, breathing in the scent of her. He slid his tongue up the gleaming wet seam, lapping the sweetness that glistened there, letting it linger on his tongue before parting her flesh with his thumbs and piercing her, and sliding his tongue into the deep, dark depths of her pussy.

  “Jon—”

  “Aww, fuck, you’re sweet,” he growled, lifting her higher against him, holding her ass in his hands and catching her clit between his teeth. He tugged it gently before thrusting his tongue deep inside the wet channel again.

  Lori shrieked and Jonathan fucked her with his tongue, in, out, until she was rising to meet him, her hands fisting his hair as though she feared he might stop.

  Not in this life...

  He didn’t stop until he had her writhing and whimpering in climax and only then did he pull back and lower her hips to the floor.

  “You’re so damn tight, so sweet,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her hip. “Have you been with anybody since that fool from college?”

  But her eyes were still blind and her mind too muddled. Gasping for air, not hearing him, Lori reached for him, blindly, burying her fingers in his hair and pulling him back to her.

  Jonathan couldn’t resist the siren call of her body, even as rage ripped through him as he remembered that night.

  “Has there been anyone else, Lori?” he whispered as he settled between her thighs. “Another man? One? Two?”

  “Damn it, Jonathan,” she moaned in frustration, arching her hips up, wrapping her legs around his waist and locking them just above his butt so that his cock was firm and snug in the cleft of her thighs. “Please, I want you inside me. I’m so empty.”

  Unhooking her ankles, he rose up onto his hands and knees, hovering over her. Staring down into her eyes, Jonathan pushed two fingers back into her silky wet depths.”Feel how tight you are, how wet and sweet?” He circled over the nub of her clit with his thumb and smiled as she whimpered, following the circle of his caress eagerly.

  “Damn it, Jonathan, take your jeans off. I want you inside me, I want to feel you against me,” Lori whimpered, reaching for him.

  Jonathan smiled slowly, looking into her eyes, seeing the desperation there, revelling in it. His pure, innocent little witch was hungry, so hungry for him. Drawing his fingers from her snug, tight sheath, he brought them to his mouth, licking the spicy sweet tang from them as he watched her.

  “Not…just yet,” he decided as he started to lower his head to her breasts.

  He wanted her hungrier. As hungry as he had been for the past seven years of his life.

  Lori could have levelled the house with her frustration. The devious, devilish glint in his dark eyes had her narrowing hers. Wind whipped through the room and she snapped her hand up and flicked her fingers, staring into his eyes with challenge written all over her face.

  Jonathan’s eyes widened as his jeans were rent away, much like her clothes had been. The unseen winds of magick continued to blow and Lori lay, staring at him and smiling, watching as the wind blew his
hair around him, winding it about his shoulders and chest, teasing her with the sight of the small scar on his side—shaped like a phoenix.

  Her mark, replacing the mark of the Scythe.

  Rising from the ashes…like I did.

  Her eyes trailed over his body—the golden, muscled length of it—so smooth and perfect, except for that shining scarred flesh of her mark. His cock rose, ruddy and perfect, denuded of any body hair. It was thick, full, and curved just slightly at the top, over toward the right. Lori felt a shudder roll through her as she imagined feeling him inside of her.

  Her gaze moved down the rest of him and she licked her lips before looking back up to lock eyes with him.

  With a smile, she trailed one finger down the center of her body and started to stroke it over the hardened nub of her clit. With a rough gasp, she plunged a finger deep inside, feeling her own flesh, hot, slippery and wet under her strokes. She had to force her eyes to stay open as she watched his face. “I’ve been watching you, waiting for you, wanting you, for years. Since I first saw you standing outside Eli’s room when Tavis brought me here. I’d just left the school.”

  She watched his eyes as she climaxed under her own touch with a sob. Jonathan growled, catching her hand and lapping at it as he stared down at her with narrowed, glittering eyes. Opening her mouth, she raggedly whispered, “I’m tired of waiting for you.”

  Jonathan’s mouth was sealed against hers before the last word had left her lips, and she could feel the blunt, rounded tip of his cock probing at the wet opening to her core. Arching her hips up, she wound her legs around him, opening her mouth eagerly under his as he started to forge his way into her tight pussy, working his cock ever so slowly inside her, until she thought she’d scream.

  Tears started to burn her eyes and she gasped as he pushed relentlessly deep, forcing his way completely in. Seating himself against the bud of her clit and holding there, rocking against her, he started to kiss her deeply, restlessly massaging one breast with his thumb and forefinger.