The Hunters Series

by Shiloh Walker

  Mal could usually read a man easily, but Ben was—unique. Nothing about Ben Cross was as it should be, not his reactions, not his attitude, not his methods or his madness. Mal kept his gaze on Shadoe. She was the unknown here, though, and the inexperienced. An inexperienced witch was often the most deadly. They simply didn’t know what they could do.

  “Then maybe you could tell me why the hell he is here?” the woman demanded.

  Mal quirked a brow and before Ben could answer, he offered, “Ye could ask me yourself, pet. Did that occur to you?”

  Through gritted teeth, she answered, “But that would mean acknowledging you. I don’t care to talk to you.”

  A frown darkened his face and Malachi had to bite his tongue to keep from snarling back at her. A man breaks into her house, what do you expect?

  Well, maybe some of the female appreciation he was so used to would be nice. Even if it did grow tiresome from time to time, at least he wasn’t facing such a sharp tongue from those ladies.

  “Malachi, would you care to tell me why you are here?” Ben asked, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Yet another witch who wasn’t too keen on the idea of falling to her knees to worship slavishly at the ancient one’s feet. Or his cock.

  Malachi was too used to that, and entirely too bored from it. And he didn’t quite know how to handle a woman who didn’t react in the normal way. From the arrogant tilt of his chin and the cool look in those blue eyes, Ben surmised that again he was left floundering by this reaction, and totally intrigued, if the way he was watching Shadoe was any clue.

  Every protective, possessive instinct in Ben rose to the fore and he moved toward Shadoe, resting a hand on her hip and drawing her closer. She slid him an odd look, but didn’t move away.

  Mal tracked the move and as Ben met the ancient one’s eyes, Malachi smiled, a slow, sardonic curl of his lips. “According to Leandra, there is a man who is rather interested in you, Miss Wallace. Something about his name sat uneasily with a number of my compatriots. I’m here at their request.”

  That caught Shadoe’s attention. Ben bit back the snarl that bubbled in his throat. Your own damn fault, he told himself. Only yours. He should have told her sooner. Much sooner.

  “Compatriots,” Shadoe said flatly. “Exactly who are these compatriots?”

  Yet again, her world had shifted on its axis.

  As Ben’s words sank in, she sat silently on the couch, her arms wrapped around her legs.

  A Hunter.

  The Hunter’s Council. Words Leandra had used, but Shadoe somehow had just not latched onto them, or realized there was much significance there. Of course, she had been latching onto a little too much at the time. Like magic, and the fact that werewolves really existed.

  Ben belonged to this nebulous Council.

  And he had come searching for her. A Hunter who fought monsters like Marcus, Ben Cross had been seeking her for years before he’d finally found her when the trial had splattered her face, however briefly, on national news. And why had he been seeking her? Because this Council he said he belonged to thought she would be of use to them.

  Wanted her to join them.

  And her father…he had been one of them, before he met her mother. He had begged for release from the Council, wanting to live a normal life with his bride, to raise children and watch his family without fear that the monsters he Hunted would one day turn and hunt him.

  The monsters had come, all right, but from his own people, not from the evil he had feared.

  Her father… She could barely remember him, even now. A big booming voice, strong, wide hands, but so gentle.

  Ben had been looking for her for a reason, she accepted that. But there was more to it than what she had thought. Much more.

  “What else aren’t you telling me?” she asked, her voice ragged and rough. “There’s more, I know it.”

  Ben’s eyes flicked to the silent, red-haired giant and she felt the air ripple as some silent communication flowed between them. The man Ben called Malachi inclined his head and leaned back against the wall, arms folded across his chest as he waited.

  “We aren’t human,” Ben said without preamble.

  Her eyelids flickered. “You look pretty damn human to me. Just because you can do magic doesn’t make you nonhuman,” Shadoe said, as a hard little knot of fear started to form in her belly.

  “It’s not just the magic,” Ben said wearily, reaching up and rubbing his face. “There’s so much more.”

  Her eyes moved to Malachi. “Are you human?” she asked warily, unwilling to ask what the “more” was.

  He flashed a toothy, brilliant smile. “I was. Once. It’s been so long ago, I scarcely remember it,” he said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.

  She fell silent. She wanted to laugh at him, at them both. Laugh hysterically, because that had to be better than the slimy knot of fear that was forming inside her belly.

  It had to be…

  “Don’t you want to know what I’m?” Ben whispered, moving closer, slowly, gracefully, his eyes locked on hers. “What we are?”

  When his hands came up and cupped her face, her skin heated, and she could feel herself shaking. As he brushed his lips against her cheek, he murmured, “You are safe with me, always.”

  Another telling look passed between Ben and the silent Malachi, and then Shadoe jolted as Ben’s complete attention focused on her.

  “I won’t hurt you, ever… I want you to remember that,” he murmured and then he stepped back.

  She jumped when a rough growl trickled from his throat as he buried his face in his hands. Dizzying little streaks of pure terror flooded her belly as some wild energy filled the air around him. Fur was sprouting on those long, gentle hands that had loved her so thoroughly, touched and stroked every last inch of her body.

  “Ben?” The word wobbled, full of fear. Shadoe didn’t want to admit that voice was hers—so small and scared sounding. His hands fell away and she flinched when he met her gaze, through glowing, gleaming eyes as smooth, dusky skin melted away inside him, under the flow of fur—short, thick black fur that covered his entire body within moments. It was a soundless thing, even as his body jerked suddenly, and she muffled a tiny scream. She realized the bones inside his body were breaking to reform, elongating his arms and legs, changing his sleek body into a walking powerhouse of black fur and gleaming golden eyes.

  It was smooth, so much quicker than Marcus’ change had been while she fought him, almost eerily beautiful.

  And she was so damned scared, she couldn’t speak. There was a dry click in her throat when she swallowed, and her heart raced so damned fast and hard, it practically hurt.

  Unaware she was even doing so, she backed away, shaking her head. Nonononononono. The word echoed inside her mind, chasing itself around until it was all but vibrating inside her, growing louder and louder until it tore from her mouth in a scream.

  “Shadoe, you are safe.”

  The words flooded her mind, almost overpowering her. She had been moving for the door, sidling along the wall when Malachi appeared in front of her—poof, like magic—he moved so fast. He caught her shoulders, then her face in his hands.

  “He’s no danger to you, Shadoe. He’s the same man he was just moments ago.”

  But memories too damned strong to fight refused to let her hear. Tearing away from him she ran, bolting out the door and running into the trees that bordered her house. Nonononono. This wasn’t happening, couldn’t be happening. It just wasn’t possible.

  Branches tore at her face, scratching her, jabbing her, tripping her. The moon had risen, a lovely half crescent that provided too little light, yet she ran through the woods, navigating them as though full sun shone upon her path.

  Growling…

  She heard growling.

  Ben silently watched the slim line of her back as she disappeared, running away from him. With a weary sigh, he shifted from wolfman to full wolven form in the mere seconds it took
for him to hit the floor. Stretching his long form out, his belly pressed the cool stone of the fireplace’s hearth, and he rested his head on his paws.

  “Well, I think she handled that rather well,” Mal said into the silence.

  Ben stared at him balefully, the gleaming gold of his eyes speaking volumes.

  Malachi chuckled and settled on the floor beside Ben, absently running a hand through Ben’s fur. “Don’t look so glum, Cross. She had a shock—just a shock. She will come around,” he said softly, a slight smile canting his lips up. “Wait until she realizes what she is…or you tell her what I am,” he said, his voice full of wry humor. “That will be the true test…”

  Mal’s voice trailed off and both vampire and wolf turned their heads, each cocking their heads and listening. The sounds were faint, very faint. Most likely nearly a mile away, a low growl, then the sounds of scrambling and struggle came drifting to them.

  She was already letting the wolf inside her become part of her, speeding her movement, as she hurtled through the trees. They hadn’t heard a human stumbling blind through the woods at night, just the occasional crash as a branch slapped at her, followed by total silence.

  And then the growling.

  A woman yelling now…screaming Ben’s name.

  Shadoe!

  With a furious roar, Ben tore out of the house, Malachi moving in his wake like a silent wave of death.

  The tableau before them was horrifying, Shadoe pinned to the ground by two men, a woman crawling all over her supine body, and Marcus standing against a tree, laughing as she screamed out in fury, blistering curses turning the air blue all around them.

  “You’re so much more…feisty than you used to be. I’m going to enjoy breaking you,” Marcus announced.

  A growl rent the air as Ben lunged, shifting from wolven form to wolfman in mid-leap, diving instinctively for Marcus. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Malachi coming down on the two men holding Shadoe.

  Malachi had already killed the first beta and as he tore the other one away from her, Shadoe threw the Inherent bitch away and lunged, taking her down and driving a fisted hand into the woman’s surprised face.

  Malachi stared up at the beta he had pinned against the trunk of a towering oak, opening his mouth in a wide smile and letting him see the deadly fangs. “Do you know what I am?” he purred.

  Mal felt the fear that rolled through the small clearing as Ben Cross’ rage spun out of control. One of an Inherent’s most deadly skills was the paralyzing power of fear, creeping from them until it damned near froze the mind and body of their foes, leaving them totally helpless. The beta’s eyes widened in uncontrolled terror and the hot, sour smell of urine filled the air.

  “For pity’s sake, Cross, how can I enjoy killing this bastard when you have him so shaking with fear, he does not even see me?” Malachi said drolly, tossing Ben an amused glance.

  “My abject apologies,” Ben snarled as he backhanded Marcus just when the weaker Alpha was lifting his head to howl, to call his wolves to him. With a deep sigh, he stopped radiating fear throughout, focusing instead on Marcus as he leaned forward and growled, “You touched my woman.”

  Rage enabled Marcus to throw the fear off and he rasped, “Mine. I saw her before you did—all but marked my claim on her. You’re too late.”

  Ben laughed, the sound an odd, chuffing sort of gasp as he stared down at the lesser Inherent. “Too late? We’ll see about that.”

  A howl fell from Marcus’ lips and the struggle ensued as he tried to ram a hand up into Ben’s throat, failing as the great wolfman powered him back down and lowered his head, snapping deadly fangs mere inches from Marcus’ throat. “Consider yourself lucky I haven’t already killed you…”

  His voice trailed off as he sensed the odd surging of power in the clearing. Both heads swung to where Shadoe was standing over the pitifully sobbing female, her chest heaving as she glared down at the smallest of her attackers. The Inherent bitch still clung to human form, and her blonde hair was a bloody tangle around her face.

  “Not my fault,” she whimpered, her breath whistling through broken teeth. “He made me!”

  Shadoe’s skin rippled.

  Cuffing his prey across the side of the head, Malachi warned, “If you move, I’ll kill you slowly, instead of turning you over to the Council. You would much rather face them, believe me.” Then he dropped the whimpering beta and turned his eyes to Shadoe, watching as she felt the change arc through her. Her back bowed.

  “Stupid cunt—” Marcus snarled and he twisted, throwing Ben off in the brief second that Ben’s eyes met Shadoe’s over the distance. Ben turned to run after him, cursing himself for allowing his attention to wander, however briefly. But he stopped in his tracks as a soft sob filled the air.

  The first change always hurt like a sonovabitch, worse than any other, because your mind was still clinging to the insistence it was human, and the fight was more painful for it.

  He walked to her, slowly, carefully, releasing the wolfman form so that he stood in front of her in human skin, albeit very naked human skin, but he figured she was less likely to freak if he showed his dick, than if he stood there looking like…well, a wolfman.

  “Shhh, baby,” he rumbled against her ear as he drew her straining body against him. “Don’t fight it. Please, just let it happen, and I’ll help you through this.”

  “What is…happening?” she gasped, then she doubled over, knocking him back as her body started to spasm.

  “Ahh…”

  Malachi knelt beside her, lifting her up off the dirt, cradling her body against his, supporting her as Ben knelt in front of her, cupping her face in his hands, bending his brow down to rest on hers. Behind her, Malachi murmured, “It is just the change… Stop fighting it. This is what you are, nothing to fear.”

  “Ben…” the word left her in a strangled gasp as her heels scrambled against the ground. Her skin itched…it burned, aching, hot, tight. She screamed, throwing her head back, baring her throat, unaware of the heated, hungry look that started to fill Malachi’s eyes.

  “Oh, bloody hell, Ben,” he rumbled, dragging air in.

  Fur started to flow, and bones broke and reformed. Ben felt his throat lock as an agonizing scream filled the air. Smoothing his hand down the side of her face, he whispered, “Baby, it’s almost over…almost over.” And then it was and there was a beautiful wolf lying in his arms, her body shuddering. She had gone to full wolf, not stopping at the half-wolf, half-woman form, and the slimly built wolf in his arms weighed next to nothing. Her pelt was a golden brown, and her blue eyes gleamed as she lifted her head to stare at him.

  “You’re a shape-shifter,” he said quietly, answering the question in her eyes. “That is what gave you the power, the strength to kill the man that was with Marcus all those years ago.”

  A soft whimper left her throat and Ben sighed, cuddling her close. “It’s not permanent, not even a form you will want often, just when the urge to run overtakes you, when the wildness takes over. Just rest a while, and I’ll help you back. I’m right here…right here.”

  Chapter Eight

  Hours later, exhausted, Shadoe lay silent as Ben helped her between the sheets. Her eyes felt heavy, and her entire body ached. “Do I have to be like this?” she whispered. “Can’t I just go back to what I was? I wanna be human.”

  “You were never human, Shadoe. Your mother wrapped spells around you to keep your true nature from showing, but what happened to you let everything inside you come out. It was all going to come out sooner or later anyway. Now that it’s happened, you can’t put it back inside a neat little package,” he murmured, stroking her hair.

  “But I don’t know how to do this, I don’t know where to go from here,” she said, tucking her hand under her cheek as she rolled onto her side, staring out into the enveloping darkness. “How do I wake up every morning and just keep on writing, telling stories? It used to mean everything, mean my sanity. That was what Tiffany did.
Now…I just don’t know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

  “You don’t have to do anything,” he responded, pressing his lips to her temple. “Just be Shadoe.”

  Silence fell for a long while as she dealt with the burning inside her gut. “But Shadoe has to do something.”

  There was no doubt about it—she was one of them. Ben cuddled her sleeping body against his, the scent of her filling his head, the wonder of her filling his heart.

  She was so damned perfect. The power that simmered under her skin left him stunned at times. She was full of power, full of magic.

  And so uncertain of herself.

  All of that made her vulnerable, and dangerous at the same time.

  Tomorrow, it starts.

  Closing his eyes, he was dimly aware of Malachi leaving as he followed her into dreams.

  She woke in bed alone, her skin drawn tight, heat burning in her belly. The questions she had expected to find burning in her gut weren’t there. But hunger was.

  Ben’s scent filled her head and her mouth watered. The image from last night of his long, golden body was burned on the inside of her eyelids and every time she closed her eyes, she saw him.

  Curling her hands into fists, she pressed her nails into her palms, the sharp little pain doing nothing to clear the thick fog of need that clouded her mind. Slowly, she sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed, breathing slowly.

  She could smell him…and something else.

  No, someone else.

  Malachi.

  That tall, pale giant with the streaming red banner of hair, and that sexy Scots burr.

  They were downstairs, talking in low, hushed tones. The deep timbre of Ben’s voice stroked over her, and she felt her nipples tighten and throb. Climbing from the bed in a dreamlike state, she padded down the stairs, following the aching in her gut. When she saw him, she crossed to him, and stopped his morning greeting with her mouth.