The Lone Hunt

by L. L. Raand

  The silver-haired, patrician man across from him puffed slowly on a fragrant cigar. A privacy shield separated them from the driver.

  “Senator,” Nicholas said in a polite but not deferential tone, “how might I be of assistance?”

  “I think we might assist each other,” Senator Daniel Weston said. “You and I might have a common interest or, should I say, a common adversary.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Nicholas said, carefully not committing himself. “You and I seem to be of similar minds on many important matters of the day.”

  “We do. We do.” The senator from New York slipped a silver cigar case from the inside pocket of his custom-cut suit jacket, opened it, and held it out in Nicholas’s direction. “Try one. They’re…imported. Very fine blend.”

  Nicholas ordinarily didn’t smoke, but he took the cigar, wafted it slowly past his nose, and nodded. “Excellent.”

  The senator extended a gold-plated lighter, its flame flickering. Nicholas took his time lighting the cigar, allowing the smoke to circle in his mouth before he exhaled. “It’s refreshing to see a man with exquisite tastes and a solid set of moral principles representing us in these challenging times. Which is why I am always happy to contribute to your campaign efforts.”

  Which he did—very generously too.

  “I feel the same way about your efforts in the private sector,” Weston said as the car glided through the night. “If only everyone I had to deal with understood the importance of handling some issues with caution. Sylvan Mir, for example—she and the Coalition for Praetern Rights are growing impatient with my committee’s handling of the equal rights bill, but such things can’t be rushed.”

  “No,” Nicholas said mildly, “they can’t.” Weston’s committee had delayed bringing the bill up for a vote for months, but Nicholas suspected he couldn’t delay much longer. “But you can’t expect some…individuals…to understand how a sophisticated system of government works.”

  Weston laughed. “Yes, well. Ordinarily a little pressure to hurry things along wouldn’t bother me, but she’s also growing more popular, and in politics, popularity is power.”

  “She seems to be winning over a substantial portion of the human population,” Nicholas agreed. And that was exactly why he was trying to turn human opinion against Mir and her animals. The rest of the world needed to see them as the threat he had always known them to be.

  “The unfortunate incident at her facility this morning will probably distract her for a short time,” Weston mused, “but I’m not sure that’s a long-term solution.”

  “The Praeterns do tend to be violent by nature,” Nicholas observed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if one of her own objected to her rising superiority and nature took its course.”

  “That would solve any number of problems.” The senator puffed silently for another minute. “I understand this fringe group that took credit for the destruction at Mir Industries has been targeting other laboratories.”

  Nicholas couldn’t admit to running secret experimental laboratories, but he suspected Weston had almost as many spies as he did. Undoubtedly there had been rumors. “The animal rights activists? Yes, they are getting to be a nuisance.”

  “I imagine it will take considerable funds to rebuild an installation like that.”

  “Undoubtedly, and of course, the longer it takes to rebuild, the greater the delay in finding effective ways of dealing with potentially destructive forces in our midst.” Nicholas expected relocating Veronica’s labs would cost him a million or two, possibly more if he wanted to get the experiments back on line in a few weeks.

  “I oversee several committees that might be of assistance in facilitating the recovery of those institutions. Of course, I wouldn’t be directly involved.”

  “I understand Dr. Veronica Standish is conducting any number of important investigative studies,” Nicholas said, keeping his own distance from accountability.

  “Yes. She’s apparently quite capable and quite…accomplished.”

  “I’m sure she could explain the severity of the crisis and the importance of these studies to someone you designated.”

  Weston smiled. “Well then. I think we should be able to clear up these troubling matters very quickly, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely.” Nicholas had just been paid by a United States senator to assassinate Sylvan Mir, not that he hadn’t already planned to do it. But now he had protection. “If there’s anything else you want to discuss, call me at any time.”

  “I’ll see you at the fund-raiser, I hope.”

  Nicholas extended his hand and the senator shook it. “Of course.”

  *

  The Rover bumped to a stop in the shadow of an overhanging rocky ledge, and the two Vampires in the front got out. A moment later the back doors opened, and Jody stood outlined in moonlight, as silent as a shimmering blade. Raina hissed quietly. Vampire scent was so subtle, so foreign, she often couldn’t tell they were near. Good when they were friends, deadly when foe.

  “We’re only a few hundred yards from the border,” Jody said. “The Weres will cross as a group and we will follow.”

  Lara climbed out and Raina followed with the other two Weres. The Vampire who had been sitting across from her was gone—misted into the darkness faster than her eyes could follow. Her cat growled in displeasure, wanting to be far away from these strange dead-but-not-dead creatures.

  “I’ll run with the Weres,” Lara said, underscoring her place with the Vampires while claiming her separateness. Her Vampire essence might be in service to Jody, but she was apart from the others.

  Jody went on as if Lara hadn’t spoken, silently acknowledging Lara’s plan. “As soon as the cats pick up your scent, Jace and Dasha will head south, drawing at least some of the rebel group away. Hopefully, once Raina’s scent is recognized, the dominants will follow her.”

  Raina’s skin prickled, as unsettled as her cat. She’d never run with anyone before. She’d never fought with anyone before. These Vampires and Weres were all soldiers, and they worked like a trained unit. She was the loner in the group, and she wondered if she would die alone this night.

  Lara slid her hand onto Raina’s neck. “Remember, I can’t climb as quickly as you can—at least, not trees. Anywhere else, I can follow.”

  “You’ll be at a disadvantage on the ground. You won’t be able to escape a cat. We’re larger and faster and stronger.”

  Lara laughed. “I am a centuri. I have fought every kind of adversary, including some of your cats. I’m still here. They’re all dead.”

  “Your arrogance is going to get you killed, Wolf.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Cat. Just don’t try to escape.” Lara squeezed Raina’s neck, a caress more than a show of strength, the kind of touch Raina had never known.

  Raina shivered, but her cat settled. She’d never been so at odds with her cat before—wary when her cat was not, wanting to run from a touch her cat seemed to crave. She would have pulled away from the wolf’s hold on her, but some instinct held her in place. “You don’t know these mountains, and we’ll be moving quickly.”

  “I carry your essence in my blood,” Lara whispered, her breath warm against Raina’s throat. “I’ll always know where you are. Even if you run.”

  She’d thought about it—running. Once they were in the forest, on her home territory, she would know every trail, every pass, every hiding place. She could leave the Weres and Vampires far behind. She might have to fight her way to sanctuary in the north, but she would’ve had to do that anyhow. She had been prepared for bloody battles. But if she escaped, she’d be leaving her cubs behind. And more than that. She’d be leaving Lara alone to face a group of feral cats who would think nothing of tearing a lone wolf to shreds.

  “Just try to keep up,” Raina grumbled.

  Lara laughed, and Raina couldn’t help but lean against her. Her cat demanded the contact, and she wanted it too. Lara’s body was hot and hard, and her strengt
h had been the only hope Raina had allowed herself to feel since long before she’d been captured. Before her only thought had been surviving long enough to see her cubs independent enough to live without her.

  The other Vampires shaped out of the darkness at Jody’s side as if they were shadows given form. Zahn said, “The trail into Pride land is clear, Liege.”

  “Are you ready, Warlord?” Jody asked.

  “Yes,” Lara said, caressing Raina’s neck one more time before removing her hand.

  “We won’t intervene until you signal you’ve found the cat Weres we want,” Jody said to Raina. “Try not to kill them.”

  “If we don’t fight to kill, we won’t have much time,” Raina said.

  Jody smiled, a smile so cold and lethal Raina’s claws tore through her skin. “Then you’d best stay alive.”

  “And you had better be as good as you say you are,” Raina said, “Vampire.”

  Jody laughed, brushing Raina’s cheek with a fleeting caress. “I hope you’re as strong as you are brave—and foolish.”

  Raina snarled but her cat arched at the strange icy heat.

  “Until later, Warlord,” Jody murmured, and then she was gone.

  Lara took a deep breath and opened herself to her wolf. In a shimmering instant, she dropped to the ground in pelt. Her spirit came alive as the crisp air streamed through her nostrils and the scent of pine forest and pungent game flooded her senses. To her right, a husky brown wolf and a slender silver-streaked white one crouched, haunches quivering, awaiting her lead. She glanced to her left where a huge mountain lion padded restlessly back and forth, her great head swinging from side to side as she surveyed the forest, her ears flickering, her lips drawn back from her powerful jaws. Raina stopped pacing and regarded Lara steadily. Lara rumbled softly and loped forward until they were nearly nose to nose. Ready, big Cat?

  Raina made a sound like a disgusted snort, her slanting green eyes glowing with energy and power. Try not to get lost.

  Lara, smaller by nearly half but Vampire-strong, bumped Raina’s shoulder hard and skirted out of reach as a huge paw swiped at her. Drawing her lips back in a taunting challenge, she streaked off into the forest. Raina was beside her in an instant, and together, they raced into the night to hunt the hunters.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Drake watched the night flash by in a mad chiaroscuro of distorted shapes and strands of moonlight as Niki drove the Rover toward the outskirts of Albany, staying off the interstate and flirting with the speed limits. Sylvan wanted their business at Nocturne concluded well before dawn. The Vampire blood club at dawn was not a place any of them wanted to be—the humans and Praeterns who frequented the club came for the sex and the ecstasy of the Vampire’s bite, but the Vampires had only one desire. They were hunters and the club was their hunting ground—they were there for the blood. And at dawn, with the threat of the strengthening UV rays that would weaken them all and might immolate some, they would be in a feeding frenzy. She and Sylvan and the other dominant Weres could probably fight off a handful of blood-crazed Vampires. But a few hundred? She’d rather not test Sylvan’s ability to telepathically channel all the strength of the Pack.

  She rode in the back of the Rover with Katya beside her and Andrew across the way. They were both agitated, which didn’t surprise her. A trip to Nocturne usually put any wolf on edge. The place was a blood pit—thick with sex pheromones and the tang of fresh blood—more than enough to set off any Were’s aggressive urges. On top of that, even the strongest wolf was susceptible to thrall, and for a wolf, the idea of being out of control or controlled by a stronger, more dominant enemy was worse than death. Andrew rumbled quietly, and she could sense his wolf circling uneasily, suspicious and ready to fight. She slid across the space and slipped her arm around his shoulders. He immediately rubbed his cheek against hers. His discomfort rolled over her in dark waves—more unease than just a trip to Nocturne should induce.

  “What do you sense?” Drake asked. “A trap? Something the Alpha needs to know?”

  “No. I—no. Nothing like that. I’m sorry.” He dragged his hands up and down his thighs, his claws making light scratching sounds on his leather pants. “I’ve never liked going there. Most of the time, I’m driving, so I just wait in the car.”

  Drake knew that Sylvan used to visit the club, that she saw Francesca and that Francesca had been her lover, of sorts. She understood it, and still her wolf growled savagely. Her possessive rage broadcast to Andrew, and he shuddered. If they hadn’t been in the SUV he probably would have dropped to his knees. Drake drew a breath, settled herself. Reminded her wolf Sylvan was hers and only hers. She couldn’t let Sylvan walk into a trap, and Andrew was not himself.

  “Is there some particular reason you don’t want to go inside?”

  Andrew stared at the floor between his long, lean thighs. “There was a Were, a wolf in our Pack—we used to be close. We were in sentrie training. Thought we’d be centuri together.”

  “Mating close?”

  “I don’t know. I’d hoped, but there were difficulties.”

  Drake wondered at Andrew’s reluctance to give details. Weres were pansexual until adolescence, and some remained that way, so she doubted his vagueness had to do with gender. For some reason he didn’t want her to know the Were’s identity. Her silence encouraged him to continue.

  “We went there one night. I don’t know why. Young and stupid, I guess. But we’d heard that a lot of other Weres went there, and that the sex was…awesome.” He winced and ran a hand through his thick red-brown hair. His misery was palpable.

  Drake rubbed his back, staying near, letting him lean on her for safety and comfort. “I can understand the appeal. And the Vampires are very beautiful, all of them.”

  He shot her a look, his expression intense. “None of them come close to you, Prima.”

  She almost smiled, touched by the love and loyalty of the centuri who guarded her and Sylvan, not only physically, but emotionally and spiritually as well. These Weres would die for them without a single thought. And beyond giving their lives, they gave their hearts. Her throat tightened and she slid her hand to his neck. “What happened?”

  “We…It was so crowded, so many bodies, so many sounds. The scent of blood and sex was everywhere, so potent. My wolf practically went crazy.”

  “I can imagine.”

  Andrew looked at her. “His did too.”

  “You said you were young. Adolescent wolves have a hard time controlling those urges.”

  He sighed. “We were just out of sentrie training, but we were still old enough.”

  A good ten years before, Drake guessed. She couldn’t ever remember seeing Andrew with anyone, but he couldn’t have remained celibate all that time. Even a few weeks without tangling was a biological hardship for a Were. “What happened?”

  “We spent the night, or most of the night, with one Vampire or another. Sometimes more than one at a time. It was everything the rumors had said it would be—intense, mind-bending. We were young and strong and the only reason we stopped was the sun came up and the Vampires disappeared.” His voice had taken on a tortured cadence. “When I left, I had just enough sense to look back over the night and know I never wanted it again. But he did.”

  “It happens quickly for some,” Drake said. “The blood addiction.”

  “I know. I don’t know if it was the blood or the sex or both, but he couldn’t stay away. And I couldn’t go with him.”

  Unmated Weres weren’t possessive or jealous, and casual coupling was normal. But once mating frenzy began, wolves were viciously possessive, and Andrew was a dominant. “You must have been serious.”

  “I was serious enough that I would have mated with him.”

  “I’m sorry. What happened to him?”

  “The Alpha knew—the Alpha always knows. She decided it was best if we didn’t work together. Enoch’s a unit chief at Mir Industries, working security. He lives off-Compound. We don’t see each ot
her much.”

  “If the Alpha knew you were uncomfortable about tonight—”

  “No,” Andrew said quickly. “My personal feelings have nothing to do with my responsibility to the Alpha and the other centuri. I will go where I am needed.” His shoulders relaxed and his voice softened. “I’m fine, Prima. Really. I’m sorry to have disturbed you. Just bad memories.”

  “It’s no disturbance. And…if you ever want to talk about it again, I’m here.”

  He grasped her hand and rubbed his cheek against her fingers, his anxious rumbling quieting. “Thank you, Prima.”

  She stroked his hair. “No need to thank me. You are our wolf.”

  Drake resettled next to Katya. They were only a few miles from the club, and Katya seemed as unnaturally quiet now as Andrew had been agitated. Drake worried that the decadent atmosphere inside the club would throw Katya back into the nightmare she’d so recently escaped. She’d been brutalized by a Vampire in the laboratories, they knew that from the bite marks on her body and what little Katya could remember, although apparently her worst torturers had been human. But Sylvan had been sure she was ready, and Sylvan knew her wolves like no one else ever could. “How do you feel about going to Nocturne?”

  “I’m fine,” Katya said, her gaze fixed straight ahead. Her tone was even, controlled. Her wolf seemed calm, practically dozing. She didn’t seem anxious, but all the same, bringing her into the midst of hundreds of feeding Vampires and sex-crazed Weres might not be a great idea so soon after her trauma.

  “If you feel threatened—”

  “I can do what the Alpha needs me to do,” Katya said.

  Her voice was filled with pride, and Drake suddenly understood that she was judging Katya by human standards, when human motivations and fears did not apply. The fastest way for Katya to heal was to have the trust of her fellow Weres and, most especially, her Alpha. To be asked to contribute on a mission would probably do more to salvage her damaged spirit than any amount of sympathy or empathy might. “I was a little worried, but I see that I didn’t need to be.”