Hunter of the Heart: Moon, Magic, Madness, Book 1

by Vanessa Jaye

  The wolf stared back, its sides moving in rapid, shallow breaths.

  She didn’t know how long they stayed that way, but at some point she became aware of the calming effects of those blue-brown eyes.

  “N-Nate?”

  He yipped, then dipped and raised his snout slowly. He tried to get up again and this time she not only heard his pain, she felt it.

  “Wait. Stay there.”

  Her stomach felt liquid with nausea as she eased from under the bench, then Tessa stepped gingerly around the mangled body on the floor and went to Nate.

  Tentatively, she reached out to touch the wolf’s face. She felt his hot breath stroke her fingertips and she jerked her hand away, not as sure of the lolling tongue and vicious-looking teeth as she was of the mismatched gaze that regarded her with such resignation.

  Then before her shocked eyes the wolf transformed to human. With rhythmic grunts that mimicked the pleasure-pain sounds of sex, his limbs and face changed back to recognizable proportions and his thick pelt thinned to a sparse sprinkling of hair over legs, arms and chest.

  “We have to get out of here. It’s still dangerous.” Nate pushed to his knees.

  She raised her eyes slowly along the striated muscles of his thighs, past the semi-erection, ripped abdomen and broad expanse of chest, to stare uncomprehendingly into Nate’s troubled gaze.

  “We have to go.”

  She nodded dumbly.

  “Tessa, I need you with me here.” He gripped her shoulders and dragged her up to her feet with him.

  She saw him squint at the same time she felt a sharp spasm lance her side, and she twisted, feeling Nate’s pain as clearly as if it were her own.

  “Y-you’re hurt.”

  He grabbed her wrist, before she could touch him.

  “Don’t.” Then he softened his voice, “Let’s just get out of here, we can deal with minor injuries later.”

  He released her and limped over to the nearest bench, muscles flexing in mesmerizing sequence. Under the bloodied smears and scratches he wore like war-paint, he was mottled with bruises. And he was still beautiful for all that.

  When he picked up a discarded towel and wrapped it around his hips, she felt a moment’s regret, then she was just as quickly appalled.

  Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m checking out his cute ass instead of thinking about saving mine.

  A wisp of amusement touched her consciousness and she met Nate’s alert gaze. Something about the tilt of his mouth made her realize he’d read her thoughts again.

  Thankfully, he said nothing, just held out his hand.

  Tessa went to him and slid her hand into his grasp, feeling like she was doing the same with her fate. As they crossed the room towards the door, her breath turned static in her chest. That thing could still be out there. Waiting for them.

  “Tessa, trust me. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Nate’s calm assurance ricocheted in her brain, piercing small holes of uncertainty in what commonsense told her to feel—fear.

  He’d just risked his life for her. But he’d been chasing her earlier. And he wasn’t human. Not wholly. Could she really trust him?

  “Okay, fine, so don’t trust me. But think you can work with me for the next ten minutes, maybe?”

  Like she had a choice. She jerked her head in a nod, and again felt a stab of bitterness come from him. She’d have to learn to guard her thoughts better.

  “It wouldn’t matter. The bond between us will only grow stronger.”

  Bond? What freaking bond?

  Nate came to a stop and put a finger up to his mouth. Tessa felt his withdrawal from her on a deeper level, and the sudden loneliness was surprisingly acute.

  He held his head at an odd angle as he stared at the door, listening for sounds beyond the barrier. All Tessa could hear was the crazy beat of her heart riffing on the engines’ din.

  Nate eased the door open, sniffed, listened again, then slipped out into the passageway, pulling her along. They’d reached the stairs and begun to climb when footsteps started above them.

  “Quick, back down,” he whispered harshly.

  Nate spun around so fast he was already behind her when she lost her footing. He caught her easily and slipped with her into the dark recess below the stairs.

  So this is what dread felt like. A heavy lead blanket that wrapped you tighter and tighter in paralyzing fear. The creature had been waiting for them. Now it was coming to finish them off. She relived the feel of the deadly grip around her neck, the slimy suction of its tongue across her cheek and the sight of Nate being flung across the room. A fist squeezed close inside her chest.

  “Your confidence in me is overwhelming.”

  Tessa ignored his sarcasm. It was easy with danger approaching in soft scuffs above their heads and the feel of Nate’s tense muscles under her palms.

  The footsteps came to a dead stop, and just as she felt his shoulders relax a muffled snap sounded before something dropped down in front of them. Nate snatched at the thing in mid-air and Tessa let out a tiny squeal, pressing back against the wall as a shadow lowered from the steel banister.

  She raised her gaze to the dark face that hung over the railing and found herself being assessed by a pair of golden eyes.

  “Hi. We were, ah…that is—”

  “Tessa, this is Mitch.” Nate interrupted her stuttered scramble for an excuse as he pulled on the jeans Mitch had dropped over the railing. The ones he’d been wearing before he’d grown the full-body beard.

  “Come on.” He took her hand and they started up the stairs again with his friend in the lead. The men moved quickly and Tessa was out of breath after the second flight.

  Another flight up, Nate retrieved his shirt from the steps and pulled it on.

  “Thanks for showing up.” He caught the deck shoe Mitch lobbed at him, tucked it under his arm and then caught the next one.

  “Lucky for you I listen to idle gossip. One half of a recent lover’s quarrel on deck, sounded suspiciously like yourself. Found you as soon as I could. The Pithcus?”

  “Next time.”

  They re-entered the public area of the ship. Fortunately no one was around to note their unusual appearance. As the trio moved down the passageway Nate casually draped an arm around Tessa’s shoulder, but he leaned on her heavily and his breathing was rapid. He felt hot and clammy to her, and a fine sheen of sweat covered his face.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just need to rest,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Mitch glanced over his shoulder and stopped.

  “Did you get bitten?”

  “What’s wrong with him?” she demanded, alarmed as much by Nate’s state as by the swift change in his friend. Gone was the amicable expression.

  Nate was at least six feet but Mitch topped him by several inches, with muscles that were thick and dense compared to the lean, ripped cut of Nate’s body.

  Mitch obviously knew his friend was some shape-shifting-shouldn’t-exist God-please-tell-me-I’m-dreaming total-opposite-of-a-HairClub-for-Men candidate. And from their exchange he knew all about that other creature too. But what caused Tessa to draw closer to Nate, angling herself slightly in front of him, was the certain knowledge that Mitch could hurt him. Real. Bad.

  Mitch’s expression sent her a clear message—she had no chance against him. His gaze flicked over her shoulder.

  “S’up, bad boy. You going to give me an answer? Did the Pithcus bite you?” He spoke with the softness of death, each word clipped, and his yellow cat eyes were flat with stony promise.

  “Wh-what was that thing?” she asked, drawing his attention back to her.

  Mitch’s eyebrows rose in obviously feigned surprise. “You mean you didn’t get a close enough look at the Pithcus? Shit, he’s got his own wiki page and everything, you should Google it.” His smile faded.

  “But let me save you the trouble. All you need to know about that mother-effer is that he is beyond your worst nightmare and
you don’t ever want to be seeing him again.”

  “Now answer the question, Nate. Did the Pithcus take a piece out of your sweet ass or not?”

  Chapter Seven

  “Not! That thing threw him across the room like a used tissue.”

  “Tessa, please stop.”

  “But you weren’t bitten.” She spared Nate a glance, but from his expression it was plain that he didn’t appreciate her defense.

  “Defense? You’re finishing me off woman. One more word from you and I’ll be fully castrated.”

  She thought about that—recalling his naked body in the locker room and the thick length of flesh that hung between his thighs. A sudden wave of desire flowed from Nate, tugging her into an undertow of yearning. Tessa fought the feeling. What did he want from her?

  “You already know what.”

  She shook her head. That was never going to happen.

  “Never is a long time, Tessa, but it can be measured by fate.”

  Who talks like that?

  Nate frowned.

  “This is all kinda touching, the both of y’all staring into each other’s eyes so soulfully and what not, but I asked you a question, Nate.”

  She turned on Mitch. “And I told you he didn’t get bitten. I saw him—you saw him, he was naked. There’re no bite marks on Nate. I got a really good look.”

  She stopped as Mitch shot Nate an amused glance, but there was still a certain hardness to the golden eyes that shone with an otherworldly glow from his dark face.

  “Well, I’d like a really good look myself, if you don’t mind.”

  It wasn’t a request, no matter how he phrased it.

  “You can bend me over buddy. Like the lady says, no bite marks. And she had a really good look.”

  Nate winked at her, his mouth tilting to one side.

  She was tempted to leave his sorry smug butt right there and then. He obviously didn’t want her defending him and what could she realistically do to stop Mitch if he wanted to tear Nate a new hole? But that monster was on the ship somewhere. Waiting. Just the thought of running into it again made Tessa’s stomach shrink-wrap to her spine.

  “Let’s move, people.”

  Mitch waved them on ahead of him. That’s when she noticed his hands. All the fingers on both hands were laden with heavy rings. Primitive things that looked like tarnished silver. And around his neck he wore a chain made up of several triangular-shaped pendants of the same metal.

  Nate also wore a strange pendent—a small weathered leather pouch. Tessa wondered if they were some sort of tribal jewelry for the different werewolf tribes. Or maybe Mitch was the leader of the pack and Nate was his assistant?

  Nate bent his head to hers and whispered, “You really have to give my ego a break here.” The humor was still in his voice, but underneath she heard the strain. “And Mitch is a cat, not a wolf.”

  “Oh.” An image of a small tabby cat flashed in her mind, followed by a lion, and then the image of a large black panther came to her, silent and deadly, its golden eyes peering out from the shadows. “Oh!”

  “Yeah, that type of cat.” The humor was barely there now. Nate was in trouble, his breathing quick and shallow and sweat beaded on his darkly flushed skin. Tessa felt a shudder go through his body, just before he staggered against the wall.

  “Nate!”

  He looked past her to Mitch. “Get me inside,” he said through clenched teeth; “You know—” he sucked in a breath, “—you know what to do.”

  “Do? Do what?” Tessa didn’t like the sound of that.

  Mitch brushed past her and put an arm around Nate, supporting him as they continued awkwardly down the hall.

  “Hey, answer me, what are you going to do to him?”

  They stopped in front of a cabin door and Nate fished a pass-card out of his jeans. Mitch plucked it from his fingers and opened the door, only then did he deign to answer Tessa.

  “What am I going to do?” he repeated in a hard voice, those golden eyes like chips of stone. “Put him out of his misery.”

  Then Mitch stepped through the threshold, all but dragging Nate with him. He turned, “It’s better if you leave now,” and shut the door in her face, cutting off Nate’s hoarse yell.

  Nate began to struggle. “Let her in.”

  “Nope, don’t think so.” Mitch hustled him across the room and dumped him on the bed.

  “She’s not going to leave me.”

  He managed a weak smile that morphed into a grimace as pain wrenched through him. She wasn’t going to leave. The surety of that knowledge created a hairline crack in the shell that had encased his heart for years.

  “Then tell her to leave.”

  Mitch ran his knuckles across his own throat and the small iron pendants detached from the chain around his neck to slot into the rings he wore. He flexed his hand, displaying a lethal flash of metal claws—a tailor-made version of brass knuckles.

  “So, what’s on the blades?” Nate had always been curious, he figured now was as good a time as any to ask.

  “Your last prayers if you don’t strip down right quick.”

  “Cartemine Root? Salwaurth Seed?”

  “Let’s keep it simple. I’ll ask, you’ll do.” Mitch made an impatient movement.

  Nate lifted his arms, each muscle feeling like it was tearing apart, and shrugged his shirt off. The knocking continued at the door and Tessa’s fear for him ran like a current through his veins. It was a heady feeling.

  When was the last time someone had cared for his safety? Beth. Another type of pain pricked at him and hard on its heels came panic.

  “Open the door, now,” he rasped. “It’s not safe out there.”

  “Might not be all that safer in here.”

  Nate struggled to his feet. He couldn’t leave Tessa out there at the mercy of the Pithcus.

  “Let her in! Do you think I’d want her here if I thought there was any chance I could hurt her?”

  He gripped his friend’s shoulders, holding Mitch’s gaze. “I need her with me.”

  It wasn’t a lie. Tessa’s presence, her safety, her caring, they were all becoming as necessary as breathing. He lowered his gaze, his nostrils flaring, fighting against the transformation that would set him against Mitch.

  He hadn’t wanted to transform in front of Tessa, hadn’t wanted to add to her terror, or to have the image of him in that form forever imprinted in her mind. But if Mitch didn’t let her in now, Nate didn’t know what he would do.

  Every moment that went by with Tessa on the other side of the door made his indecision weaken as his bones grew stronger and his muscles bulged with more focused purpose.

  “Shut the hell up out there!” Mitch barked. His warning caused a brief pause in the banging before Tessa started up again.

  “Please, Mitch, let me in. Nate?” The doorknob rattled, followed by more knocking.

  Nate held Mitch’s gaze. “Tessa, he’s going to let you in, hold on.”

  Mitch’s eyes narrowed and he drew one knuckle across Nate’s cheek.

  He clenched his teeth against the sharp slice of the blade and the sting of the poison.

  “We’ve been in this together five long years and I ain’t never seen you get like this over a piece of ass.”

  “Don’t! Don’t call her that.”

  “Then stop jerking me around. This is life and death we’re involved with here. Who’s the woman, wolf? What is she to you?”

  “She… I want her.”

  “No shit. My question, is why her? Why now, why so bad?” Mitch paused but only got Nate’s labored breathing as a response. Finally, he said it—

  “She’s mine.”

  “What do you mean she’s yours?” Mitch’s eyes narrowed, then widened. “Oh, I know you ain’t trying to tell some impossible bullshit.”

  “What’s really impossible in our world?” Nate asked fervently, his grip tightening on Mitch’s shoulders. “If the Pithcus can exist, why couldn’t Beth be back?”
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  Mitch’s expression came this close to pity. He gripped Nate’s arm in return. “Man, just admit you want to fuck her and drop the re-incarnation justification bull. It’s been five years, Nate. A long time for a man to go without some punani, and an eternity for a wolf. No one’s going to blame you for wanting what’s natural.”

  Nate shrugged Mitch off. Why did he expect the cat to understand? He’d never had a mate.

  “All right, hold on to your little delusions. Just don’t expect me to buy into it.”

  He shoved Nate back down on the bed, leaned forward and dissected his jeans from waist to knees in two slashes, baring his legs for inspection.

  Mitch straightened. “Take off the rest.”

  Swallowing his nausea, Nate kicked off the tatters of his jeans and struggled to his feet. Arms in the air, he slowly turned around. The next convulsion buckled his legs underneath him. As he hit the mattress only one need kept him conscious.

  “Let her in!”

  Mitch watched his friend writhe on the bed, holding in his own pain. Sentiment couldn’t enter into this. When he’d agreed to take this assignment he’d known the chances of either he or Nate returning to the jungles of the Amazon alive were almost non-existent.

  It was bad enough they had one evil motherfucking freakazoid running around the planet. The possibility of two was not going to happen on his watch. If he had to execute his friend in order to protect the humans and other shape-shifters, so be it. He clenched his jaw, steeling himself for that eventuality, and made himself study Nate’s body carefully.

  Besides the nasty gouge in his upper thigh and an ugly collection of bruises, there were no other marks on him. He pushed Nate’s chin up, then grabbed his ears, checked behind them and his neck. For his trouble, Nate blew him a kiss.

  “Asshole.” Mitch allowed himself to relax and hooked the Shoni-blades back onto his choker. The last twenty minutes had been some of the longest in his life.

  The bruises would be gone in the next twenty-four hours. If there were broken bones, a little longer for that. Internal injuries, he couldn’t tell for sure, but buddy-boy had winced when he pressed lightly on his abdomen.