The Hunters Series

by Shiloh Walker

  “Yes…we call them fodder. But she is a very capable witch, and warrior. Plus, she came to us already fearing the Hunters.” Mistress sounded disgusted.

  “But she intends to free the girl once the dog comes to her. And she killed Joseph over touching her.”

  “Leandra is beginning to cross too many lines with her talk of righteous war. I have lost too many good soldiers to her hands. And the little brat will make a tasty treat for a good soldier.”

  Leandra heard the sound of a hand hitting flesh and Marick’s gasp. “As to the wolf…do not call him a dog. He is a pure wolf,” Mistress said, her voice level and cool. “Do not insult him so. We have enough mongrels around here that you should see the difference,” she purred.

  Leandra shuddered as she heard the sounds of leather striking flesh. Mistress so loved to beat. Her body recalled that.

  “We shall have to either cull Leandra from the Scythe or pull her teeth,” Mistress mused as the leather thwacked him again.

  Leandra moved up to the door, her eyes dark and angry. Cull. They meant break or kill.

  “Perhaps, once we’ve turned the wolf, he shall want her,” Mistress mused. “After we’ve banished that wretched Hunter’s heart. That soul of his.”

  Leandra stepped into the doorway, her eyes narrowed and watchful. Surely enough, Marick lay face down, nude and stripped. Lines marred the sweet golden perfection of his body, some still oozing fat, lazily flowing drops of blood. And he was loving every painful second of it as Mistress flogged him.

  “Cull me, will you? It’s a damn good thing I’m not so easily broken.”

  They both whipped their heads around to look at her, with looks of incredulity on their faces that were nothing short of ridiculous. It might have been wiser for Leandra to flee in silence.

  But when had she ever taken the easy road?

  “Lady, how dare you,” Mistress rasped, tossing the whip down as Marick rose, his eyes flashing and gleaming red. His skin rippled like water and Leandra could all but hear the growl rumbling in the inherent’s throat.

  “How dare I?” Leandra scoffed.”How dare I wish to speak with the Mistress I have served loyally for fifteen years? Am I not permitted to ask you questions? Not permitted to think for myself? No, I am not, I see. You wish to cull me like I am one of the brainless fools you like to keep underfoot.”

  Tossing her long braids over her shoulder and lifting her chin, her amber eyes flashed with pure fire.”You are a fool if you think I will be so easy to subdue, Mistress,” she hissed in a low, mean voice. Behind her, she heard creeping footsteps and caught a familiar scent. With a slow curl of her lips, she whispered, “Inferno.”

  A gleaming ring of fire surrounded her, just barely there but as two hands tried to seize her from behind, the fire raged and the were bellowed as it singed his skin, solidified and blocked his grab at her.

  “You fool,” Mistress whispered.”You think you can get away from us?”

  “I think more than that…I know I can,” Leandra challenged. Laughing, she angled her chin at them and said, “Besides, I have the best bargaining chip in the world. The girl. I can have the wolf…all mine. And you cannot stop me, either.”

  With that, she drew the long wicked knife from her side and lunged through the people gathered at her back, the flames singeing the people who tried to grab and hold her. She thrust the knife into somebody’s gut, and pivoted, delivering a sidekick into Marick’s belly. Smiling viciously at him, she slashed her knife across his exposed throat as more people barreled into the ring of flames, screams and growls filling the corridor.

  “Damn it, she’s one fucking witch,” Mistress shrieked.

  One of the ladies hissed, “But it’s Leandra, Mistress.”

  And Leandra dove through a narrow opening in the wall of people, tucking and rolling, running for all she was worth, her knife clutched in her hand. The moment she hit the door, she focused…the girl’s face and she was gone. The vicious screaming and furious curses were still echoing in her ears.

  “Damn it, did she tunnel into the ground?”

  “Witches can’t run that fast.”

  “Do you think she has a bleeding broom, mate?”

  Leandra materialized in Erika’s room with her breath coming in ragged pants. Eying the girl, she ran her tongue around her teeth.

  Choices…she had several. The question was, which was the right one?

  Erika stared, frightened, into Leandra’s eyes. They were glowing, the way Eli’s did when he was furious. Or when he stared at Sarel too long. And sometimes Jonathan and the other wolves would come in after a night, and she’d be up getting a drink and their eyes would be hot and gleaming red…full of stress, rage, anger…

  But Leandra’s were glowing gold, almost like a cat’s.

  A panther’s.

  Blood splattered her face, and a long, thin cut marked her chin. Her chest was heaving with ragged, panting breaths as she studied Erika.”Something tells me we have trouble coming, girl,” Leandra said.”In the form of the Mistress in all her glory and the ladies and men who serve her.”

  “Doesn’t that mean you?” Erika asked, frowning.

  Leandra laughed.”No. Not anymore, it don’t. Cull me, will they? We’ll be seeing ‘bout dat. We’ll see. They think I’ve been showing my teeth? Well, I haven’t even taken a nibble.”

  Erika felt those eyes, full of anger, full of power, land on her and an odd, eerie feeling rushed down her spine. It wasn’t fear, not exactly—more like, she had let a panther out of its cage, thinking to turn that panther free. But the panther had decided she wanted to adopt Erika.

  And Erika really didn’t know how to handle a small cat.

  Much less a big one.

  Leandra tossed her long black braids out of her face and smiled—a small, almost gentle smile—at Erika.”Don’ be afraid, Erika. Okay, then. You mentioned a witch. Agnes, you tell me about. I want to see her. Come. We have no time left.”

  Erika jumped when Leandra strode forward and wrapped her arms around her. But she screamed when the room around them just vanished.

  Agnes had dealt with a lot of odd happenings in her life.

  But that phone call, placed in the middle of the night from America, well, she was quite certain it would never be topped.

  “Erika, I cannot just come and meet you without telling Eli and Jonathan.”

  “You have to. If you tell them, they’ll come. She has to talk to somebody alone, and they’ll kill her—or try to. I don’t think she’s bad.”

  “Who, child?”

  “The woman that kidnapped me,” Erika said on the other end of the line.

  A kidnapper, not evil, but she had helped kill other Hunters. But Erika wasn’t a fool. She was actually very insightful. So Agnes was flying across the Atlantic at 2 a.m., her old bones weary and wanting her bed. She didn’t usually fly to the States, hadn’t in years. Her last flight across the ocean had been for Malachi, to Jamaica, for a young witch-child. And what a waste that had been. The girl, a wild, powerful young thing had gotten away.

  Away from them.

  It haunted Agnes…what could have happened to her, what awful things could have become of her, or what awful things she could have been pulled into.

  There had been such a flux of residual magick lingering in that house from that girl. Agnes couldn’t comprehend what the woman must have grown into. For a twelve year old child to dodge and dart and evade a witch like Agnes. And Malachi. Not one, but two Hunters and members of the Council.

  It should have been laughable.

  But it had filled Agnes with a sense of foreboding.

  Shifting, she sighed and tried to make herself rest.

  But she was too edgy.

  None of it sat right.

  None of it at all.

  Chapter Eight

  “Call for help,” Lori said quietly at the mouth of the cave.

  There was too much life underneath the surface of the earth.

 
“There are too many people here for us to hope we can counter them all,” she said, turning to face Jonathan.”Two against what feels like eighty. It is madness.”

  “Is Erika there?”

  “Jonathan…”

  “Is Erika there?” he demanded, crouching low to the ground as though he’d be able to see her through the dirt. His eyes were swirling, glowing red around the edges, and his skin rippled with power.

  “No. She’s not. Both she and the woman who took her are gone. There is some sort of…illusion that the woman placed that makes them think they are still there, barring themselves in the room. She is very good. The less powerful witches there don’t realize it is illusion. I don’t believe anybody who isn’t a Master of the craft would see through it.” Lori ground her teeth and thrust her hands through her hair.

  “Damn it all! This woman is a bloody mess—she is a member of a fucking lunatic horde of monsters. Yet if I didn’t know better, I’d think I was dealing with one of our own. Erika is safe with her, I know that. Even I couldn’t protect her as well as this woman.”

  “Lori, you’re making me very angry—when I find this woman, I’m going to kill her,” Jonathan rasped as he rose and paced in a tight circle, his hands clenching into fists. He tossed her a harsh, angry glare, one that let her know all he wanted to do was to fall upon something and rip its throat out. To feed and bathe in the blood of whatever had taken the child he loved so.

  Lori smiled gently. “No. You won’t. Erika is falling in love with her—you’ll see it. You’ll see her. She’s a warrior, just like you, she understands you far better than you think, and she respects you more than you believe. And even if she didn’t, she cares for children and she’s protecting Erika. You owe her for that alone—”

  Never piss off an angry werewolf.

  A very important rule.

  Lori’s bemusement over this woman had her letting that rule slide to the back of her mind and she didn’t even feel or see him coming. Which would explain how she ended up with her back against a tree and Jonathan pressed against her. His eyes were more gold than brown as he struggled to remain human, a red rim surrounding the irises. His fangs dropped down as his body trembled with suppressed rage.

  “This bitch killed Brad. This bitch shot Mike. This bitch took Erika. I owe her pain. I owe her death. Whether she is a misguided soul or not, I don’t give a flying fuck,” Jonathan snarled against her ear.

  “As you say, Erika is being treated well, and is not hurt. That alone is keeping the bitch from being turned into a hide I’d like to stretch out on that blasted cave wall, over there. That alone is keeping me from showing that little cunt what happens when you piss off an Alpha. Nobody takes what belongs to me,” he growled.

  Lori jerked her head away as he scraped his teeth along the cord in her neck and turned her mouth aside when he pressed his lips roughly to hers.

  “Mine,” he snarled.

  “Not fucking likely,” she snapped, pressing her hands to his chest and using the leverage to work her way back. “The only time you want to pretend interest is if you’re pissed, or too fucking horny to ignore me.”

  “Mine,” he growled, and power shuddered through the air so loudly it was amazing none below the ground noticed.

  Lori narrowed her eyes and rasped, “Not until you face some cold hard facts, Jonnie.” She started to whisper under her breath, focusing her mind, herself, her magick, as she lifted one hand. Jonathan was running his hand down the middle of her torso, and as she cupped her hand in front of her mouth, he cupped her, rubbing his thumb over the covered bud of her clit. Taking all of her strength, she breathed in through her nose and blew air into his face.

  Jonathan went flying back, losing his grip on her as though he had no strength. Head over heels, he tumbled back, landing on his ass, and then his head flew back and hit the sandy earth behind him, the water from the lake coming up to soak his hair.

  Lori tossed her hair back and smoothed her shirt down, watching as he slowly sat up. Running a hand over her hair, she quirked an eyebrow at him and said, “Still under the illusion that I can’t handle myself, wolf-boy?”

  “You are no warrior.”

  “I just laid one out easily enough,” she said with a shrug. In challenge, she turned her back on him and eyed the entrance to the cave. There was a labyrinth below ground, a veritable catacomb of caves. A near perfect stronghold. Only one way in, so none could spring a sneak attack upon them. But only one way out as well. Which meant if the way out was collapsed…smoothing her hand over the tree, she listened, thinking what a fool he was if he thought he could sneak up on a witch.

  No. She may not hear as well as he did. But why did she need to? The land spoke to her. The cave, the lakes, the air, the trees…

  She ducked and rolled just as he lunged for her. She came up smiling as he landed empty-handed, scowling.

  “You’ve always wondered why Sarel was such a good student to Eli. It’s not just because she’s a natural born fighter,” Lori said, dusting her hands off. “Witches have a connection to the earth, love. We’re so difficult to spring anything on. Well, one that hasn’t wronged the earth at least. It whispers to me…”

  Her eyes closed and listened, absorbing.”There’s several deer feeding not too far away…they were going to run when they scented you. But I told them they need not fear you. You hunt other prey. Coyotes in the woods are heading south, they don’t like your scent. The cave…ancient, used to be a habitant for passing Indian tribes. I can still feel their shaman magick. And you…don’t try that again.”

  Jonathan lowered back into his crouch, his eyes narrowing as he studied her still, peaceful face.

  “If it’s that easy, then why not tell me where Erika is?”

  “Because she isn’t around here.”

  Jonathan snarled and slammed his fist into the ground. Lori felt the impact reverberate through her feet and her heart ached for him. How could she convince him that Erika was safe?

  “Follow the blood path, damn it. She’s a fucking blood witch, has to be, falling into that pack of killers. Are they blood killers?” he asked, skimming his eyes to the cave below.

  Lori’s entire body shuddered and she nodded. “Yes, they are. But she is not like…them. She hasn’t spilt another’s blood for her magick. And though the land was suffering for the past few years, it has been recovering, through her.”

  “There has to be something, some kind of path you can follow. No witch like her can travel like that and leave nothing.”

  Lori smiled sardonically. “She has no blood path to follow. The woman has never used the blood of another to complete her magick, or to start it. What little blood she has needed, has come from her own veins,” Lori said, turning east, studying the vague direction her heart pulled her toward. “There is no blood on her soul, on her heart, save for those she has killed in what she felt was a righteous battle. And those souls torment her.”

  The worst thing about an empath, they could see clear into a person’s soul. Jonathan knew she had already caught a glimpse of this woman’s soul, and he didn’t like knowing it wasn’t somebody twisted and evil. He wanted blood on his hands. A woman’s blood was something that twisted his stomach anyway. In order for him to kill her, she would have to be an evil, foul woman.

  And Lori was insisting she was anything but.

  As they stood in the woods, arguing in hushed, quiet tones, he had to deal not only with that, but with his wounded pride as well.

  She had knocked him flat onto his ass.

  Quickly, easily, and without laying a finger on him.

  A gleam had lit her eyes, and for a brief moment, he had seen more of her sister in her than he had ever realized.

  But Lori was a Healer, she wasn’t a warrior.

  She wouldn’t be able to stand in battle. Of course, now he was carefully shielding his thoughts, the way he did when he was thinking around Eli and wanted his thoughts kept private.

  Lori’s eyes were
cool and blank as she studied the cave. Her lashes lowered, her lovely face going quiet, thoughtful. Jonathan didn’t like the look on her face. It was too…eerie.

  “I can collapse the cave,” she said quietly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I can collapse it. Totally. If I get inside to the middle, I can collapse it. The structure that holds it up. If I crumble that support, the cave will go.”

  “No.” He narrowed his eyes as he studied her face, looking for any sign that she wasn’t serious. “Too dangerous. You aren’t sliding in there and relying on yourself to slide out. If you get caught, get hit in the head or something, you’re trapped. You don’t go anywhere without me.”

  Turning his back on her, he studied the mouth of the cave. Collapsing it though, had possibilities.

  “You still haven’t figured it out, have you?”

  Her voice was a ghost of a whisper behind him, but a hot, angry woman was whispering it. He could feel it, could feel the heat, the hot wash of her anger. “I may not bloody be Sarel—Eli took me out of hell before I had to run from it. But I was placed in Excelsior, and I was trained by fighters from childhood. I am not the soft, weak little flower you think. I do not have to be protected from all the evil in the world.”

  “How lovely…”

  The low, laughing, purring voice that slithered around them was the only warning they had before he launched himself out of the woods at them. Jonathan shifted and lashed out at the man who seemed to explode in a burst of fire from the woods.

  “Oh, it’s the dog the Mistress wants so badly,” the newcomer snarled, his blond hair blowing around his face from some unseen wind. With a sulk, he flung his hand toward Jonathan. Jonathan swore furiously, the words falling from his muzzle in low growls as a series of gashes appeared across his furred belly, leaking blood down his groin, across his naked sex, before trickling down his thighs.

  Paying it no heed, he reached for this new witch, only to have his hand frozen, just bare inches from its target. “I’d best not hurt you too bad, eh?”