Hunter, Hunted: a New Adult Fantasy Novel (The Spire Chronicles Book 1)

by Ashley Meira

  Honestly, I had no idea why I healed up faster than Christ on the cross. Wait, no, he died. Never mind, bad example. Well, technically, he did heal from that but– Right, focus. I didn’t know. It was just something I’d chalked up as a gift, one I wasn’t planning on looking in the mouth.

  “You’re right about it possibly being genetic. Does your mother have the same ability?” he asked. “I know your father doesn’t; it’d be big news if the head of the Wallace family could do something like that.”

  One of his hands was still wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle. The empty whiskey bottle, I noted with a tinge of regret. Just because the wounds were closed didn’t mean I wouldn’t be in pain for a while; my abilities healed the injuries up, but they didn’t stop me from hurting. It was a caveat, but it beat being in pain and bleeding everywhere while my bones stuck out like a 3D Picasso.

  His other hand was absentmindedly stroking my knee, which pulled a tired smile from me. “I haven’t seen my mother in over twenty years. She vanished when I was four.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged, wincing as my shoulder throbbed. My entire body stung from the remnants of the alcohol burning around my injuries and a heavy weariness fell over me like a thick velvet curtain. I wanted nothing more than to sleep for an eternity or two.

  Alex lifted me into his arms and walked back into my bedroom. I couldn’t bring myself to complain about being carried like a child. His body was warm against mine, especially after being in the cold marble tub. There were still splotches of dry blood and liquor on my body, but he didn’t complain, and I was beyond caring about getting my sheets dirty.

  He pulled the blankets over me, and I sighed in bliss as the soft covers caressed my battered body. “Do you need help getting undressed?”

  “Again?” I was too tired to keep my eyes open.

  “There aren’t any buttons for you to rip off this time.”

  I scoffed, the action causing me to curl up in pain. Everything would hurt less tomorrow, but getting through today was my problem. “What happened at the clinic, by the way?”

  “We can talk about that once you’ve rested.”

  I let out an unsatisfied moan and pawed feebly at him. While I may have wanted to do nothing more than sleep, there were bigger things going on around me that had to be handled. Plus, Rowan probably told Ipos everything already, and I hated being out of the loop.

  “Nothing happened,” he said. “Doctor Malcolm told us she used up her stock of void powder making a fresh batch of anti-venom a few days ago.”

  “Who the fuck– Oh, right. Trish Malcolm. No one uses her last name. You must have really pissed her off.”

  I didn’t have to open my eyes to know he was pursing his lips like an ornery old lady. “She said I could call her Trish.”

  “Sure she did.” I grinned before dropping the expression. Even smiling hurt.

  “How did she act?”

  “Squirrelly – hyper – but Lily said that was normal.”

  Trish wasn’t really a poster child for the Zen lifestyle. She was like a mix of Evel Knievel, Dr. Frankenstein, and the Energizer Bunny on crack. The last part was doubly applicable since she was a rabbit shifter, but I digress. One thing Trish was not, however, was a liar. The anti-venom thing was bothering me, though…

  “Why was she brewing anti-venom? The only anti-venom that uses void powder is the one used to treat basilisk bites. And last I checked, there weren’t a lot of those wandering around here.”

  “Rowan asked about that. Trish babbled on about how she wasn’t running a ‘Fall Market.’ She repeated that a few times actually.”

  “…It’s July. Then again, there have been a few occasions where Trish lost track of time. ‘Who needs a calendar when there are experiments to be done?’ were her exact words, I believe.”

  Alex let out a sexy chuckle. “She certainly seems like the type. I was tempted to look around her office for the entrance to a secret lab housing some stitched up abomination.”

  Look at that, he actually had a sense of humor. “I’m sure anything Trish created would be a bundle of joy. She doesn’t even like swatting flies.” I forced my eyes open. “Any chance Lily dragged you to that apartment instead of waiting for us to regroup?”

  It was a good thing I opened my eyes, because the flat expression on his face wouldn’t have transferred through verbally.

  “We’ll keep that on the to-do list, then.” I turned onto my good side. “Hey, I know I can be a bitch, but I do appreciate you staying around to help out with this. Even if the only reason you were in town at all was to arrest me,” I added with a wink as I wrapped the blankets tighter around myself.

  “It’s not like I brought handcuffs.” Alex laughed and ran a hand through his hair in the most endearing manner. All right, I definitely needed sleep – I was getting way too fluffy.

  “Maybe next time.”

  His laughter died down, his lips still curled into that delicious smile. “Maybe.”

  The next time I got the chance, I would ask Ipos if waking up in the middle of a restful sleep was the work of the Devil. If you couldn’t get a good night’s sleep when every part of you burned – and stank of stale booze – then what was the point? Whenever I was tired, I only managed to get a few hours of sleep, but when I was normal, I could sleep for a day and a half. It had to be some sort of conspiracy.

  “I suppose it’s bad form to fall asleep when there are guests in the house,” I croaked out. I could sense Rowan nearby, her presence radiating through the darkness.

  I reached an arm out, fumbling along my nightstand until my fingertips glanced something cool. Oh, thank whoever decided to bring me a glass of water. With a grunt, I pulled my stiff body up and chugged the drink. The liquid was soothing against my parched throat even as my stomach protested at the rush of water. “What did I miss? Besides any chance of getting my self-respect back.”

  “You’re a bit out of practice is all,” said Rowan, her usual deep timbre calming me. When you spent all your time with someone and then were pulled apart, you missed them. Today was the first time in a while that we had been apart. Her constant hovering to make sure I took things easy these past few weeks had me wishing she’d leave me alone, but once she had, I realized how much I missed her. “It won’t take much time to get back into the swing of things. You just need a bit of patience.”

  “In all the years that you’ve known me, when have I ever been patient?”

  She smacked a paw against my forehead. “It was already late by the time you and Ipos returned, so we agreed to wait until tomorrow to visit that apartment. Ipos said he’d try to find any information about the ring. The Campbell boy went with him. Lily’s sleeping in the spare room; I didn’t think you’d want her going home alone.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I got shoved out a window, but you know me – I’ll live.”

  The bed dipped and soft fur pressed against my cheek. I wanted to pet her, but I used all my energy sitting up and drinking. Besides, Rowan hated being treated like a pet, even if she did have to be nailed down whenever there was catnip around.

  “Did the boy ask about your regenerative abilities?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “What could I tell him, Rowan? I don’t know anything. If you do, feel free to share.”

  There was a hidden message in her silence, but I was too tired to decipher it.

  6

  Like any true cat owner, I awoke to pitch black and a heavy pressure on my face. Was it just an instinctual thing for cats to sleep on a person’s face? Is this what centuries of evolution has brought us, or did Rowan fall asleep on people’s faces back when she was human, too? Ugh, no. I did not need to think of my cat-mother doing anything that involved being on people’s faces.

  I didn’t remember falling asleep again, but I did remember dreaming about everything that hap
pened yesterday, among other things. The final image I had before waking up under Rowan was of my mother surrounded by hellfire on top of a snowy mountain. It was the weirdest thing I’d dreamt since that time I tried mixing dream ivy and silk shiso with marijuana during my trip to Japan a few years ago. That was the best trip ever, in every sense of the word.

  Gently sliding Rowan off me, I got out of bed. Every movement caused my body to remind me that I’d fallen out of a third story window less than twenty-four hours ago. Thank God for hunter resilience and sort-of-super regeneration. I tossed my bloodied undergarments off and stood in front of my mirror.

  The cuts and scrapes from yesterday were all gone, leaving in their place a burgeoning pattern of dark purples and reds along the areas where I’d been stabbed. My regeneration abilities always seemed to heal any deep wounds or cuts, but left remnants around the healed areas. It didn’t even touch surface wounds, like punches to the face that wouldn’t do more than leave an ugly bruise. It didn’t really matter, though. As long as it healed serious wounds, I wasn’t going to complain.

  I was still sore, but at least it didn’t feel like I’d been doused with acid whenever I moved. A nice hot shower called to me, but my desire to stop smelling like I’d been on the bad end of a bar fight was overwhelmed by my desire to wolf down all the bacon I smelled downstairs. I threw on a pair of sweatpants and a sweater before shuffling toward the source of the delicious smell.

  Lily was standing in front of the stove, trying to find a way to help Jin make breakfast without setting the house on fire. She wasn’t succeeding. Jin was Lady Cassandra’s butler. When I was ordered back to Haven for some sick leave, Lady Cassandra sent him over to take care of me. Personally, I think she sent him to make sure I wasn’t doing anything other than resting, but the man made the most amazing chocolate cake, so he could’ve nailed me to the bed if he wanted to – as long as he left me one hand free to eat.

  We ate a pleasant, if quiet, breakfast. Lily asked how I was feeling, and we made idle small talk before deciding to drop any pretense. I sucked at making conversation and the normally chatty redhead wasn’t in any mood to pull my weight. Circles a deeper shade of purple than any bruise I had weighed her eyes down and her disheveled appearance made it look as if she’d gone a dozen rounds with a battering ram. After she finished a meager strip of bacon, Lily excused herself, saying she wanted to get some more sleep.

  I got a text from Ipos saying he had a meeting today. There was another paragraph full of expletives regarding politics along with a handful of comments on how I should make sure to get some rest since I was a “delicate little human thing.” Alex sent me a message along the same lines, though he managed to be a bit more eloquent with his phrasing.

  A few months ago, I could have taken on all five of those guards, fallen out the window, and walked away with little more than a bat of my eyes. Now, it was like I was a damned rookie again. The last time I felt this wiped out was after my Rite. Rowan was right about this just being another muscle I needed to keep exercising. I’d gotten flabby and it was time to get back into shape. When I stood up, however, my body reminded me to wait until I was healed before starting my Rocky training montage.

  I could still do basic things, though, like yoga. Winding down from a successful – and painful – session, I began to meditate, taking deep, calming breaths. Something about all of this was bothering me, but I couldn’t figure out what. There was this niggling feeling that I was missing something.

  My thoughts were scattered by a loud burst of laughter from outside. Looking out the window revealed a pack of neighborhood kids running around playing cops and robbers. The fact that they had startled me so badly spoke volumes as to how much progress was left until I was back to full form. Then again, being so focused that you blocked out everything around you did have its drawbacks, usually deadly ones. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to decide how much of that thought was objective reasoning and how much was self-comfort.

  I still wondered why Lady Cassandra insisted I stay here for so long. There was no way it was just out of concern; she was more pragmatic than that. I’d been back on my feet for almost a month when she suddenly decided to take a more direct approach in teaching me how to handle the duties I’d have to face as head of the family. I frowned as a voice in the back of my head asked why she decided to do that now. Had Lady Cassandra known something was going to happen to her? If so, why wouldn’t she say anything about it? Didn’t she trust me?

  Childish shrieking pierced my ears again. Haven was, well, a haven for members of the Maxwell family. It was somewhere they could be themselves, especially as children. Despite how irritating I found the noise to be, I wasn’t about to rain on their parade. Another round of screams had me reconsidering. Maybe I should summon up some rain to chase them inside. An hour or so of concentration and… Wait, no – I’m not allowed to do that anymore. Rain always relaxed me, but once Lady Cassandra realized I’d been manipulating the weather, she’d banned me from tampering with it.

  I leaned against the window and watched them play. As a kid, I was more the indoors-y type, watching children play from my window while curled up with a good book. Looking at them now, it was almost like I was eight again. Like my dad would show up any second and say he was sending me to live with a stranger. Back then, Lady Cassandra had been Lady Maxwell to me – both in public and private.

  I could still imagine that little girl, short for her age even then, bawling her little grey eyes out as her father ushered her towards a black car with tinted windows. Lady Cassandra had cut an imposing figure even then, with her unreadable eyes and mysterious smile. She’d been kind and patient through all my tantrums, but never held back or sugarcoated anything, her honesty like a hammer. The only thing she held back was the reason my father had sent me away.

  I suppose I could have asked him. She brought me along as part of her attaché during Council gatherings. As head of the Sullivan family, my father was always there, sparing me a few glances from across the room. He never bothered to start up a conversation, though, so why should I? We’d exchanged little more than terse greetings since I was sent away, since he sent me away – since he threw me out without so much as an explanation.

  I was twenty-six and heir to the Maxwell family name. When Lady Cassandra announced me as her successor, there had been no move on his part, no congratulations or message of outrage. Nothing. I wish I could say that it didn’t bother me, but whatever. I’d made it eighteen years without him, and I didn’t need him now.

  I let out a heavy sigh as more thoughts charged through my mind like a freight train with something to prove. Was I even still next in line? Lady Cassandra chose me, but the Council could still overrule her decision, and someone as young as me was rarely ever put in charge. Nothing would be made clear until the Council gathered to discuss it – a fact that did nothing to stop my mind from racing. How could I be considered a viable choice when I allowed Lady Cassandra to be assassinated on my watch? What would happen if I failed to catch her killer? Maybe I wasn’t the best choice for this, maybe I wasn’t good enough.

  Maybe I never would be.

  Did I even want to be the head of the family anymore or did I just feel obligated? I’d failed to protect Lady Cassandra, the least I could do was honor her memory by leading this family the way she wanted it to be led. But did I really want to retire? Sure, it got kind of tiring always running around on a hunt, being chased by an army of evil creatures that could snap a human in half, but did I really want to give it all up for what was essentially an administrative position? Paperwork sucked more than getting stabbed.

  “Morgan,” Rowan called, walking towards me, “where is Lily?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “She’s not in the guest room.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

  “Call her,” said Rowan.

  I grabbed my phone off the table and dialed Lily’s number.

  “Mimi!”
Her voice was breathy.

  “Lily, where the hell are you?”

  “I figured it out!” she said in an excited whisper. The pounding steps in the background told me she was running somewhere. But where?

  “What?”

  “Trish–”

  Her words were cut off by a loud click. My heart stopped skipping in favor of bungeeing between my throat and stomach. Entering the guest room revealed an unmade bed. This wasn’t messiness; the haphazard appearance was more akin to someone leaving in a hurry than being disorganized. I searched her pillow for a strand of hair. Finding one, I closed my eyes and focused on tracing the natural energies that Lily possessed.

  The spell was a basic one. All creatures left a distinct energy imprint wherever they went. This spell would – barring any magical interference – highlight her energy for me to follow, both mentally and physically. Sometimes, the spell even revealed images – small psychic flashes of what the subject was doing or feeling, as well as their final location. These usually only happened when the caster shared a close, personal bond with the subject.

  She was in this room, tears in her eyes. Then, a spark, realization, followed by excitement. Out the door, rushing–

  A more empathetic person might have gleaned more information, but I didn’t need to be Miss Openhearted 2016 to recognize Trish’s clinic. I took my gun and told Rowan what I saw as we rushed downstairs. Grabbing a pair of shoes with one hand, I called Alex and told him to meet me at the clinic before sprinting off toward my destination.

  7

  Trish’s clinic was located in the center of Haven, near the entrance to Old Town. Its convenient location made it a popular destination for any ill city residents, human or otherwise. Plus, Trish’s fondness for researching new potions and improving old recipes made her popular with hunters; many a monster had been taken down by one of Trish’s Fireblast Philters.

  I apprenticed here before going off to the academy. It was kind of a trial by fire, but once you’ve celebrated your tenth birthday helping a manic rabbit shifter amputate the leg of some hunter who thought it’d be smart to incorporate a chainsaw into his arsenal, you were ready for almost anything. Okay, so it was traumatizing at the time and I couldn’t eat for two days after the fact, but working there did teach me a lot of things and even sparked my interest in potion making. I also learned that you should never ever use a chainsaw unless you absolutely had to.