Hunted (A Cyn & Raphael Novella)

by D. B. Reynolds

  “An FBI agent, Lucas? Really?” Raphael said grimly.

  “Oh, right,” Lucas drawled. “Because yours stays home and bakes cookies all night.”

  Cyn looked up from wiping tears from her eyes. “Hey! I can bake cookies.”

  That only earned her a disbelieving scowl from Raphael, which threatened to set her off again. He shook his head and turned back to Lucas.

  “Where is Aden now?”

  “In St. Louis, but he can be here tomorrow.”

  “All right. I’ll meet him as favor to you.”

  “Thank you, Sire,” Lucas said, leaping gracefully to his feet. “In the meantime, this house is yours. Kathryn and I will stay at the homestead, and I’ll tell Aden to meet us out there tomorrow. It’s more discreet.”

  “That’s acceptable,” Raphael said. “But, Lucas,” he added, his voice going cold and deadly, “once that’s done, we’re going to find out who was after us and why. Because, if there’s to be a hunt, I intend to be the hunter, not the hunted.”

  Chapter Four

  Cyn waited while Raphael sealed the elevator door behind them, then turned and eyed the well-appointed bedroom.

  “This isn’t Lucas’s and Kathryn’s bedroom, is it?”

  “No,” Raphael replied, dropping his leather jacket on the back of a chair. “This is a guest room. Would it matter?”

  “Yes,” she said emphatically. “I don’t like sleeping in someone else’s bedroom.”

  “You slept in mine.”

  “Back in the day,” she clarified, moving restlessly around the room.

  He laughed. “It wasn’t that long ago.”

  “Just feels like it,” she said absently.

  “Should I be insulted or flattered?”

  “Take your pick.”

  “Cynthia,” Raphael said. He didn’t use her full name very often. She looked at him. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She studied him a long moment, then said, “What’s the situation, Raphael? When you were talking to Lucas,” she clarified, when he gave her a puzzled frown. “You said something about how he understood the situation. Well, I want to understand it, too. What is it?”

  “Ah.”

  Cyn watched him intently, holding her breath as she waited to see what his next words would be. Would he answer her question? Or would he deflect it with casual humor, or even sex?

  He picked up his jacket from the chair and hung it in the closet, then sat down. Her lungs squeezed hard enough to become a physical pain in her chest when he lifted his black-eyed gaze and said, “Sit with me, lubimaya.”

  “I can stand.”

  “Please.”

  She eyed him doubtfully, her lips flattened against the emotions clogging her throat. But he’d said “please,” which he rarely did, so she walked over. She intended to sit on the opposite chair, but Raphael had other plans. He snagged her hand and tumbled her onto his lap, holding her there when she would have gotten up.

  “Raphael. I’m serious.”

  “I know that. I’m ensuring that you can’t get away until I finish speaking.”

  “Is it that bad?” she whispered, her chest so tight she could barely draw breath for the words.

  “It is very serious, and, yes, it is bad, though I suspect not the way you mean it.”

  “Just tell me,” she demanded, unable to stand the stress.

  “You are aware that I’ve been gathering allies lately, beginning with Rajmund, although, of course, my relationship with Lucas is far older.”

  “I’ve had my suspicions.”

  “So have others, although no one but a select few understand my true motives. My enemies assume I’m trying to take over all of North America, that I’m setting puppets on the thrones of the other territories so that I may rule through them.”

  “I don’t believe that. It’s something else, but I don’t know what.”

  “This is the most critical of secrets, my Cyn. It cannot be shared with anyone.”

  “So, why tell me now?”

  “Because I nearly lost you to a secret, and nothing—no secret, no person—is more important to me than you.”

  The tears rolled down her cheeks. Tears of relief that he wasn’t going to lie to her, and of love at the raw emotion in his words. She leaned against his broad chest, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “Don’t cry,” he murmured, holding her close. “Listen, and tell me what you think.”

  She nodded wordlessly.

  “The threat is not on this continent, but in Europe. There are many very old vampires there, vampires who were alive long before I was turned, and who’ve survived by being both wily and powerful. They rule territories in Europe, as we do here. But the territories are small and crowded because these old vampires made too many children in years past, when a vampire was judged by such things.

  “This overpopulation has created a large number of strong and ambitious younger vampires who have nowhere to go. They no longer wish to serve under the yoke of their masters, but there are not enough open territories—or at least not enough with lords who can be handily defeated—and no unsettled lands for them to move into.”

  “They want to come here,” Cyn said, stunned with the realization as she sat up and stared at him.

  He nodded. “They look at North America and see eight vampire lords ruling a vast amount of territory. They assume that makes us weak, that no one vampire is strong enough to rule so much, and they think to replace us with their own number. Not one vampire for a territory, but several. Not eight vampire lords for all of North America, but twenty-five or thirty.”

  “And what about you? What about the others? Do they really think they can take you all on and win?”

  “I am not privy to their strategy or thoughts, only their ultimate goal.”

  “So what are we going to do about it?” she demanded.

  Raphael smiled and hugged her close. “My fierce Cyn. Our first order of business is to continue as we have, to ensure the ascension of vampires we can trust, who will fight with us, and who are capable of consolidating and defending their territories should it come to a war. Which is why the selection of Aden is so important.”

  “But you don’t know him.”

  “I know Lucas, and while he may seem like someone who doesn’t take life seriously, the reality is quite different. When it comes to survival, Lucas is deadly serious. He also happens to be an excellent judge of others. He tells me it’s a side effect of his being a people person,” he added, grimacing in such distaste that Cyn had to laugh despite the seriousness of the subject.

  “The talent probably lies in the opposite direction,” she assured him. “He’s a con artist, which means he has to understand his victims. It’s the same skill, just applied differently.”

  “Did I ever tell you how Lucas and I met?”

  Cyn frowned at what seemed like a non sequitur. “No,” she said.

  “He thought to pick my pocket, or more likely to steal my purse. Either way, his so-called people skills failed him quite spectacularly.”

  “I’m surprised you let him live.”

  Raphael shrugged. “I saw something in him, something I thought I could use.”

  “Were you right?”

  It was Raphael’s turn to laugh. “Oh, yes. He was a challenge, but ultimately well worth the effort.”

  “If you say so. Kathryn seems to like him anyway.”

  “Speaking of Kathryn, remember, you cannot share any of this with her. If Lucas chooses to confide in her, that is his choice, but we cannot afford to let our enemies know that we know they’re coming. This is not a topic for your Mates Club.”

  “You know about that?”

  “Sweet Cyn,” he said, patting her ass affectionately, “I know about everything. You should understand that by now.”

  Chapter Five

  The next day found Cyn urging her horse up the final rise to the top of a hill, and thinking ruefully that the pretty little bay mare proba
bly didn’t need her help, or her urging. No doubt the horse was far more familiar with this trail than Cyn was.

  She’d been impressed earlier with Lucas’s stable of horses. For that matter, she’d been impressed with his stable. Cyn had been raised with money and privilege, and most of her friends growing up had been likewise fortunate. When she’d told Kathryn she’d had riding lessons all through her youth, she’d been telling the truth. She’d been taught by the very best instructors at the most exclusive stables that California and, ultimately, Europe, had to offer.

  But even with that background, Lucas’s stables were amongst the finest she’d seen, especially in private hands. Horses weren’t cheap, not to feed, not to stable, and not to care for. But it was obvious that Lucas did all three and spared no expense.

  Robbie suddenly surged past her on the right. He was riding a monster of a beast, a chestnut gelding who was at least eighteen hands tall and with fire in his eye. But then, Robbie was a big guy, so nothing smaller would suit. He was also, as it turned out, a damned good rider and seemed to relish the challenge the horse presented. Horse and rider both appeared to be grinning when they raced past her.

  Cyn grinned back. Lucas’s lands were meant for riding, with lots of wide, well-groomed trails that were kept clear of obstacles. She supposed in the deep part of winter, with the snow up to everyone’s ass, the trails were less reliable. But as far as she was concerned, only a masochist would venture out in that kind of weather, anyway. As it was, the afternoon’s early December temperatures were pushing her boundaries of reasonable comfort, though even she had to admit the sun felt good on her face and the air was cold and fresh.

  She leaned forward and patted her mount on the neck. “Don’t you worry about those silly boys, sweetheart,” she soothed. “They’ll stub a toe, and then they’ll be crying like the big babies they are.”

  “Raphael know you have such a high opinion of men?” Kathryn asked, coming up behind her at a more sedate pace than Robbie’s headlong dash.

  “Of course, he knows. But then, as he’s always pointing out to me, he’s not a man.”

  Kathryn laughed, as they rode side by side up over the rise and paused on the ridge line. “It is lovely here, isn’t it?” she asked, looking back over the rolling expanse of snow-dappled hills.

  “Except for the cold.”

  “Cold?” Kathryn scoffed. “Honey, you ain’t seen cold. It’ll be up to our asses in a month.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking. But I thought this was your first winter here.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve visited the Minneapolis office enough times to know. Only for Lucas would I live here. I’m a Southern girl.”

  “Lucky for me, Raphael hates the cold as much as I do.” Cyn spotted Robbie heading back toward her across the wide, flat top of the ridge. She stood in her stirrups to shout at him, and had just sucked in her breath to do so, when the unmistakable crack of a long range rifle shot shattered the peace of the day, and had both her and Kathryn diving for the ground.

  “Cyn!” Robbie roared as he flew across the plateau. He jumped from the saddle before the big horse had even come a full stop, too much of a warrior not to have his rifle in hand as he crouched low and ran to where Cyn was scooting along the snow-covered ground, heading for the protection of a small cluster of good-sized rocks. “God damn it,” he swore as he grabbed her on the fly and half-carried her the rest of the way. Kathryn was already nearly there, having been closer when the shooting started. Robbie reached out now to snag her jacket and drag her behind the largest of the rocks.

  “I counted two shots,” Cyn said, pulling her Glock from its shoulder holster and wishing she had something with better range.

  “Rifle,” Kathryn confirmed. “Long range, probably—” She risked a quick peek and ducked back. “—the next hill over, those trees.”

  “What do you think, Robbie?” Cyn asked.

  The big Ranger shrugged out of his dark-colored parka, leaving him in nothing but a long-sleeved, off-white thermal Henley. Rolling to one side, he squirmed down into the snow and slipped the barrel of his Remington M24 around the side of the rocks.

  “Want me to put some snow on your head,” Cyn whispered, only half-facetiously.

  “Fuck you, Cyn. I can’t take you anywhere.”

  “Maybe he was shooting at you!” she hissed.

  Robbie grunted, his eye and his focus now on whatever he was seeing through the scope of his rifle. Eventually, he pulled the gun back, rolled over and sat up.

  “I think you’re right about where it came from,” he told Kathryn, “but the shooter’s gone. Probably saw his chance, took the shot, and then ran for it, maybe without even waiting to see what he’d hit.”

  “This can’t be a coincidence,” Cyn said. “First we’re tagged from the airport, and now someone’s shooting at us.”

  “Yeah, but why us? You and I can’t influence the damn challenges,” Kathryn said angrily.

  Cyn snorted. “Unless we die,” she said dryly. “When a vampire’s mate dies, it’s a devastating blow. Maybe they’re targeting you and me to get to Lucas and Raphael.”

  Kathryn blushed hotly, her already cold-pinked cheeks getting even redder. She shot Robbie an embarrassed glance. “Um, Lucas and I aren’t actually mated yet.”

  Robbie gave Cyn a meaningful stare. He clearly thought she was the target because her death would definitely hurt Raphael badly. Maybe even make him skip the Council meeting. She had to admit the evidence seemed to point that way, if Kathryn and Lucas weren’t mated. Sure, Lucas would mourn her death, but it wouldn’t hurt him the way the loss of a mate would. Of course, that assumed the shooter knew they weren’t mated, and besides, there were other reasons for shooting someone. It didn’t have to be related to vampire politics.

  “Who hates you enough to try to kill you?” she asked Kathryn, avoiding the whole mating issue. “Any big FBI busts you’ve been involved in lately?”

  Kathryn frowned. “Not really. I honestly don’t do that much field work, and when I do it’s mostly white collar stuff.”

  “I thought terrorism was the big issue these days.”

  “It is, but even there, my involvement is more in the way of tracing financial transactions, following the paper trails, not hunting down bad guys. Most of the people we arrest wouldn’t even know I was involved.”

  “No offense, but it sounds pretty boring. You have skills. When this is all over, I think we should talk.”

  Robbie groaned loudly. “I don’t want to hear this.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. You think it’s safe to stick our heads up?”

  He grabbed his jacket and dug into a pocket, pulling out a pair of compact, but extremely powerful military-issue binocs. Propping himself higher, he began a systematic search.

  “You were a boy scout when you were little, weren’t you?” Cyn teased.

  “Babe, I was never little,” he said, without taking his eyes away from his search.

  She smiled. “What do you see?”

  “Snow, trees, rocks. Some grass. No bad guys.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I’m calling Steve Sipes back at the house to let him know what happened, and that we’re coming in.”

  “Who’s Steve Sipes?” Kathryn asked.

  “Raphael’s head of daylight security. Lucas must have one, too, right?”

  “Yeah. Guy named John Breunig. He’s probably at the homestead, since that’s where Lucas is, but I can give him a call.”

  “Do that,” Robbie said. “Sipes’ll call him, too, but it’ll be good if he hears from you directly first.”

  Kathryn nodded and punched a speed dial number on her phone, while Robbie did the same. Feeling somewhat superfluous—something she wasn’t used to in situations like this—Cyn rolled into a crouch, and ignoring Robbie’s glare, she stood and made her way across the plateau to gather the horses. They weren’t happy about all the excitement, but she soothed them one at a time an
d brought them in. Even Robbie’s monster gelding.

  Robbie was off the phone and glowering at her. “What if I’d been wrong? What if that shooter had still been active?”

  “If you’d really thought that, you’d have tackled me before I ever got up.”

  He stared at her a long minute, then huffed a laugh. “Come on. Let’s get you back to Raphael before I get any grayer.”

  * * * *

  It was nearly dark by the time they returned to Lucas’s big house. They’d met Steve Sipes and his security team halfway back. He’d detailed some of his team to continue on to the plateau and see what they could find in the little bit of light that was left. While the rest of the team had escorted the three of them back to the estate, which Cyn thought was massive overkill. Whoever had fired on them was long gone, and a crappy shot to boot.

  But she knew Raphael wouldn’t see it that way, and Robbie knew it, too. Raphael was powerful enough, and their bond was close enough, that even in his sleep, he’d have known that Cyn was in danger. So when they made it back to the stable, she passed the mare’s reins to Robbie, slid to the ground and ran for the main house. She didn’t recognize the security guys on the outer perimeter, but Sipes’s men were standing guard closer in, and two of them were waiting for her at the front door.

  She smiled as she ran past, hurrying down the hallway to the elevator. She entered the code and stepped inside, slipping through the doors downstairs before they were fully open and rolling onto the bed just as Raphael opened his eyes and reached for her. She laughed as he tumbled her beneath him and efficiently stripped away her clothing until he had inspected almost every inch of her.

  “I’m fine,” she said, reaching up to smooth his hair away from his forehead.

  “I see that,” he purred, dipping down to nuzzle the side of her neck. “You smell like horse.”

  “I think they were aiming at Kathryn, not me.”

  He lifted his head. “That would have been small comfort if you’d been the one shot.”