Torment (Primal Progeny Book 1)

by Stacey Mewse

  Audra flinched and shrunk away from him, seeing the wolf flickering behind his eyes and smelling the change in him immediately. She wanted to run, but knew that this would cause him to chase out of instinct and would likely end in her obtaining a serious injury of worse… Besides which she knew that despite his rage they needed this man, to discover what it was that made him special… To find out how he had survived and utilise the anger he had within him at all of this. Desperate to diffuse the situation she struggled to think of what to say and quickly settled on a feeble apology.

  ‘I’m sorry Hunter’ she offered, her voice slightly shaky as she continued ‘I know this must be very difficult for you to take in. There is so much information and you are getting such a cut off version of events, but time is slipping away and we need your help… You have much more expertise at dealing with wanderers than almost all of us put together. Life has been good to our pack for a very long time and the younger generations, myself included have never had a reason to fight. We are unlike a lot of other packs; there is a large gap between the Alpha’s age and the ages of the rest of the pack for reasons I am forbidden to discuss. He is kind and fair and has raised us all as peaceful creatures, only our Beta’s have any fighting skill.’

  Hunter snorted with contemptuous laughter ‘you’re effectively cuddly house pets!’

  Audra ignored his attempt to rile her and changed tactics. ‘Are you not even remotely interested to hear our reason for needing your help?’

  Hunter curled his lip, straining to keep himself contained ‘I’m a fighting dog, isn’t that –’

  ‘No.’ Audra cut him short, knowing that the information she was about to impart would anger him further but having no alternative option. ‘No. That is not why, the reason is this… Varulv has been flamboyant lately and has drawn a lot of unwanted attention to himself, he is behind the recent spate of murders which have appeared in the news across the country and he must be stopped before he kills again. Both for the sake of his victims and the sake of our kind. We know that he already has another girl captured and this is why we need your help, we know her to be a friend of yours.’

  Hunter sprang forward in his seat, his eyes wild, remembering the absence of his oldest friend at the yard that morning ‘Lucy!?’

  Audra nodded slowly ‘he set it up as a business arrangement I believe. We found out too late to stop it… We are certain he has her in his grasp.’

  Hunters face contorted into a strange mixture of rage and fear ‘why aren’t you out there!? What are you doing here when you could be saving her?!’ He shouted, his voice perilously close to a scream.

  Audra shrank back ‘we need your help, we don’t want to just rescue her and drive him away… We need to kill him this time and we think it has to be at your hands.’

  Hunter sprang off his chair and dragged Audra up, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her towards the door. ‘You can tell me the rest on the way’ he hissed through gritted teeth ‘take me to wherever it is that you came from and we’ll deal with this properly, I want to talk to your boss.’

  As he leapt into the van and turned on the ignition his mind raced. How could she have been so stupid, why hadn’t she told him she was going? What if he had already hurt her, and what if it was already too late?

  Hearing the click of Audra’s seatbelt being locked into place he stared forwards into the darkness of the night and spoke without looking at her.

  ‘Tell me the way.’

  Chapter 8

  Eight hours earlier.

  Lucy had dragged herself out of bed late that morning as a consequence of late night drinks with Gemma the previous evening. She had cursed herself for the amount she had drunk ever since she woke with a pounding head and a dry mouth. She needed a clear head to think about business and instead she was battling the worst hangover she could ever remember having. She didn’t even really know why she had consented to all that wine; it was unlike her to drink heavily and even more so for her to actually suffer with a hangover. A part of her wondered vaguely if she was still more upset by Hunters rebuff of her affections than she would allow herself to openly admit… Though another much larger part of her suggested firmly that it had far more to do with Gemma’s less than subtle persuasive behaviour.

  She liked the girl… But it was becoming increasingly more obvious that her stable hand was infatuated with her, and Lucy simply did not share her feelings in the slightest. She knew that she had not helped matters on the night when Hunter had turned her down, and the memory made her cringe with embarrassment. She had sped back to the yard in floods of tears and found Gemma just stepping into her car to leave for home. She had tried to avoid eye contact and skulk past, but the other girl had seen her tear stained face and grabbed her wrist as she tried to pass her by. She had asked what was wrong and Lucy had broken down into another bout of tears; sobbing fitfully as she recounted of how she had always loved him and didn’t know what to do.

  Gemma had pulled her into a hug and squeezed her hard, resting Lucy’s head onto her shoulder and muttering comforting words… Slowly her crying had subsided and she had realised that they had embraced for an uncomfortably long time… And Gemma’s hands were trailing down her back towards her buttocks, her lips tenderly brushing her neck and slowly moving to her tear stained cheek.

  Feeling a shiver run through her she had moved back and stared into the eyes of her oldest female friend, her own eyes filled with pain and brimming with tears… And then Gemma had lunged forwards into a savage kiss, mashing her lips against Lucy’s and cradling her head with one hand as the other slid over her rear and squeezed.

  At first Lucy had responded, pressing her body closer and losing herself in the kiss. But as Gemma’s hand trailed around the side of her thigh, and her fingers began to work at the button of her jeans she had snapped out of it. She had stumbled backwards and fallen hard onto the tarmac. Bawling her eyes out, and wailing through sobs about being taken advantage of and not having anyone to turn to.

  Gemma had stood over her for a moment in stunned silence before reaching out to help her up. At first Lucy had resisted but soon gave in and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, she was too emotionally fragile to fight for long. She had sobbed quietly as the other girl had led her up to the house and sat her down on the sofa. Gemma had left her there with a bottle of wine and a large glass before leaving her alone, curled up in a ball crying in the dim light of a reading lamp… It had not been Lucy’s finest moment.

  Ever since then Lucy had found Gemma to be protective and wary all at the same time. She knew that the other woman longed to touch her and repeat their kiss, and yet somehow things had not become awkward between them… From Lucy’s end at least. On some selfish subconscious level she enjoyed the feeling of being wanted, and as she did feel awkward with Hunter she clung on tightly to the friendship she had with Gemma.

  Having blundered around her bedroom with a pounding head and a dry mouth Lucy had somehow finally managed to gather herself a respectable outfit and had thrown it on. She had fixed her hair as quickly as she could and applied subtle makeup with bleary eyes. She detested herself for allowing the lapse in sobriety which had left her feeling so rotten, and dashed out to her 4X4 with her face screwed up against the bright light of the outdoors.

  As she fired up the engine of the trusty old vehicle she found her mind wandering again to the miserable subject of what had happened between her and Hunter. As she drove down the winding country lanes towards the local town, she marvelled that anyone could have such an eventful love life as she did without anything actually happening! She knew that Hunter did not feel in the slightest bit awkward since the incident, and was indecisive about what exactly that meant to her. She was desperate for him to feel more for her than he did, but at the same time his friendship meant a lot to her; and she knew she would be lost if he vanished from her life altogether.

  She cringed at the memories that flooded her brain … Holding his hand and feeli
ng it limp and unresponsive between her fingers … The gentle kisses that had never been more than a chaste peck on the lips … Her hands trailing over his body towards those unresponsive parts that she wanted the most, and him grabbing her by the wrists and pushing her away. She had known in her heart of hearts that he was not interested and yet she had pushed the situation. Why? What had happened to self-respect?

  Still his rejection had opened her eyes and forced her to look further afield, for which she was begrudgingly grateful. Lucy would never have considered entertaining an offer on her land in the past, but now somehow it seemed like a fantastic idea to explore. The fact of the matter was that the gentleman had been very generous with his offering. As well as which there had been something captivating about his voice on the telephone that had driven her to want to meet him in person. His accent had been thick and yet she had been unable to discern from where he originated, though his English had been perfectly understandable. He had called twice before she had given in and agreed to meeting with him, both times his voice deep and exciting and his words smoothly persuasive. She pictured him as muscular and well dressed, and was fully aware that discussion of her land was not the key reason she had finally agreed to meet with him. Her father would have been furious had he known she was meeting a strange man to discuss the sale of some of her paddocks. Somehow though, the thought just made her giggle. To hell with everyone else, sometimes you have to do things for you for a change of pace and to add a little excitement to life!

  In no time at all she found herself following signs into the town centre. Soon she was pulling into the entrance of a large multi-story car park, which attached onto the back of the local shopping centre. She drove slowly through the barrier and fumbled with the ticket that popped from the machine, stuffing it into the glove box. She removed the sunglasses she had donned at the beginning of her journey and tossed them in on top of the ticket, they were obscuring her vision in the dark of the car park. She found a spot on the lowest level and pulled in with a tense sigh. She was nervous, far more nervous than she would have liked to admit.

  Stepping out of the car she smoothed down the grey suit dress she had chosen, and checked her hair and makeup in a compact mirror that she had fished from the depths of her handbag. Nodding to herself with a quiet sound of satisfaction she dropped the mirror back where it had come from and strutted over to the lift. Stepping inside with a final look back at her car she smiled weakly, trying to build her confidence levels. The butterflies in her stomach were enormous as the lift jerked into action, and she couldn’t help but do a last minute bit of prissy preening. She was absolutely determined to make a good impression, and for that her hair had to be perfect and her makeup subtle and yet flattering. She wondered if she should have worn more lipstick as the lift ground to a halt and she stepped out onto the ground floor of the shopping centre. Oh well, too late, she’d just have to hope she looked respectable enough without it.

  Fishing her mobile phone out of her handbag she double-checked their intended place of meeting before heading off to her destination at a leisurely amble. It wouldn’t do to look to keen! There was no rush either way as she was characteristically early, and had not yet been in contact to say she had arrived. As she walked she peered into shop windows and wrote herself a mental shopping list of all the things she would treat herself to if their meeting went well. A pair of flashy heels in particular caught her eye as she passed a shop front laden with beautiful shoes and boots. She daydreamed happily about slipping her feet into those gorgeous stilettoes as she sashayed into the bar they had arranged to meet at.

  Scanning the room she saw no one looking expectant, and since she did not know who she was looking for she simply made a beeline for the bar. Carefully seating herself on the edge of a plushly cushioned bar stool, she lifted her handbag onto the bar and rested both hands limply over it as she surveyed the choice of drinks. After a moment of deliberation she chose a vodka and cranberry juice; waving over the strapping young barman who had been hovering nearby ever since she had walked through the door.

  Noticing the time she sipped her drink slowly and really made it last, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously at the man behind the bar and smiling enticingly when he winked back in return. However this little exchange did not last long, as by the time she had finished half of her drink she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

  She seemed to turn in slow motion though whether this was as a result of nerves or the drink she could not have said. The man who stood before her was inexplicably handsome, and for a moment she found herself totally enraptured by him and utterly tongue-tied.

  He was older than her but by how much she could not say. She guessed him to be in his late thirties or perhaps early forties, but it was difficult to judge. He was tall and somewhat slender, his hair a cold shade of platinum blonde that was long and poker straight. He wore it pulled back into a neat ponytail, which ended in a blunt line between his shoulder blades. His eyes were a piercing icy-blue and twinkled out from a face that was masculine despite its delicate features. His lips were thin and set into an impassive line as she studied every detail of him. His perfectly pressed suit, his clean shaven face… He even smelled gorgeous…

  After a moment he broke the silence, his voice just as deep and sensuous as she remembered. She guessed his accent to be Finnish though he could have hailed from any Scandinavian country for all she knew.

  ‘Miss Baxter?’ He asked, a faint smile of amusement curving the corners of his lips.

  Snapping herself out of her dumfounded staring, Lucy inwardly chastised herself for gawping and smiled broadly as she replied. ‘You can call me Lucy Mr. James.’

  ‘Lucy…’ He purred, taking her hand in his own and planting a delicate kiss on its back. ‘What a beautiful name… Very British.’

  Had she been less captivated by his looks; Lucy might have noticed the slight sneer that marred his handsome features for just a moment as he mentioned her nationality. As it was she simply giggled like a schoolgirl and tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear.

  ‘Would you mind if I sat down?’ He asked.

  ‘Of course not, please do’ she invited ‘we have a lot to discuss.’

  Nodding he gracefully seated himself next to her and gestured to the barman ‘would you like another drink?’ He asked smoothly.

  She answered before her brain could even begin to process her response, totally enraptured by the movement of his lips as he spoke. ‘That would be lovely’ she replied dreamily, almost spellbound by him.

  He nodded and ordered himself a foreign brand of liquor she had never heard of, and the same again for her. Once they had their drinks he took a small sip from his glass and licked his lips. Noting that she watched the movement of his tongue as it slid from one corner of his mouth to the other.

  This was going to be far easier than he had first anticipated. Thankfully that fact made the sport no less enjoyable for him.

  For some time they sat and exchanged idle chitchat, he bought her multiple drinks in this time and she drank them readily, becoming steadily more and more giddy. After a while she began to realise that she needed to visit the bathroom and politely excused herself. She staggered slightly as she stepped away from her chair, Smiling sheepishly at her companion. She flirtatiously smoothed down her skirt whilst holding eye contact with the handsome stranger. Then strutted away with a slightly overzealous wiggle in her step.

  He watched her go with a sly smile playing on his lips, waiting for the bathroom door to close before beckoning to the barman. He ordered two bloody Mary’s, and when the other man had turned away he slipped a little clear liquid from a tiny vial hidden up his sleeve into one. Stirring it languidly with a lurid green drink stirrer he smiled darkly into the glass as he watched its contents swirl. He waited silently for her return, forcing down the smile that threatened to give away his sinister intent.

  This was going to be far, far easier than he had first thought.

  Chapter 9


  Hunter’s van sped down countless country roads that night, its headlights carving harsh light onto the dusty roads and causing shadows to jump and lurch beneath the trees. He had thought that his knowledge of the area had been second to none; but somehow Audra had managed to lead him off the beaten track and onto roads he had never seen. He had not been able to pinpoint the moment when this transition from safe and familiar road to strange new ones had occurred. He did not remember the last time he had seen a familiar landmark but tonight it did not matter. He followed her directions blindly in his panic, and hoped and prayed that they would not be too late.

  For her part Audra did little to disturb the charged silence, only opening her mouth to give advanced directions as to which way he should turn.

  It was an uncomfortable journey for both of them, he was on the verge of snapping and she could sense it in him.

  As time ticked by he became aware that he had passed by a certain point twice, and the sudden realisation of what his guide was doing hit him like a slap in the face. She was deliberately taking him on a winding route so that he would not be able to remember the way to her home. Rage bubbled up inside him; he had more important things to worry about than planning his next visit!