Huntsmen (The Better to Kiss You With Book 2)

by Michelle Osgood

  Kiara flushed, heat in her cheeks and the hollow of her throat. After she had finished Kiara’s hair, Ryn had given Kiara her number and told her to call. Kiara hadn’t. She’d tried to; she’d pulled out her phone and stared at it with her finger hovering over the call button, but couldn’t find the nerve to press down. What would she say? She’d never met someone like Ryn. Days later, Kiara could still feel the sure touch of Ryn’s fingers in her hair. She’d woken up more than one night since with the ghost of those fingers gliding along the nape of her neck, with her body hot and throbbing with the ache of unfulfilled desire.

  Ryn pushed off the locker, and her coat slid open to reveal her T-shirt with the words “EAT FUCK HOWL” emblazoned in all caps.

  A disbelieving laugh fell from Kiara’s lips.

  Ryn shrugged, the movement languid and graceful. “I thought you might want to join me for the first. Then maybe we can see about the other two.”

  Kiara’s skin tightened; her breath caught in her throat.

  “Unless you have class or something.” Ryn nodded at the textbook Kiara carried.

  “I—” She did, Intro to Anthropology with Sophie. But it was an elective, and she could get the notes from Sophie tomorrow. “No.” Kiara decided, recklessly. “No, I don’t have class.”

  ***

  Ryn’s fingers moved inside Kiara with incredible speed. Kiara arched off the bed with her skin sheened in sweat and her hands clenched on the bedsheets. Ryn pressed her hand against Kiara’s bucking hips, strong, stronger than any lover Kiara had had. Ryn’s dark eyes flashed as she panted above Kiara; her long hair fanned down around them. Kiara could still taste Ryn on her lips, on her tongue.

  Ryn pushed another finger inside Kiara, and Kiara came with a cry. Body still pulsing from the orgasm, Kiara turned the tables on Ryn, using her own inhuman strength to flip them so now Ryn was splayed against the scarlet bedsheets.

  Ryn laughed, breathless and delighted. “It’s never been like this. I’ve never—” She broke off as Kiara drew a nipple into her mouth and nipped at the peaked flesh.

  “It’s different with us,” Kiara murmured against Ryn’s skin as she slid down Ryn’s body, already anticipating another taste of the slick wetness between Ryn’s legs. “With another wolf.”

  The thrill of it burned fire-hot in her veins. Like Ryn, Kiara had never slept with another werewolf—everyone she knew was family, pack—but she’d heard enough from her older cousins. Ryn, though… Ryn had never met another werewolf.

  Kiara found Ryn’s clit, and Ryn moaned, thrashing under Kiara’s tongue. Kiara growled, a deep, wolfish rumble that vibrated against Ryn’s most sensitive places. Ryn cried out and convulsed.

  “Again,” she demanded. “Again.”

  ***

  Kiara burrowed deeper into the blankets, doing her best to ignore the weak winter sun that filtered through the blinds. She was warm and languid and had been dozing on and off for what seemed like hours. She knew the bedroom floor would be freezing against her bare feet and so had decided that she wasn’t going to get out of bed until she had absolutely no other choice.

  “Don’t you have class today?” Ryn asked. She flicked through one of Kiara’s engineering textbooks. Kiara had brought it over two nights ago, meaning to study while Ryn did a client’s hair. Kiara hadn’t left since, nor had she managed to crack the book open.

  “I do.” Kiara yawned and snuggled closer to Ryn under the covers, not bothering to open her eyes. “But I’d rather stay here.”

  “Won’t your parents get mad though? Your Alpha?” Ryn mocked lightly. She tossed the book to the floor.

  “Mmm, only if I tell them.” Kiara propped her chin in her hands. “And I don’t plan on telling them.”

  “Ooh, does that mean I’m your dirty little secret?” Ryn teased, toying with Kiara’s new bangs. “Don’t want to let the folks know you’re slumming it with the loners?”

  Kiara rolled her eyes. “It’s not that.” She traced the skin on Ryn’s arm and watched as goosebumps rose in her wake. “And just because you don’t have a pack doesn’t mean you’re a loner, just that you’re a lone.”

  “Alone,” Ryn rolled the word around on her tongue.

  “No, not alone, a lone,” Kiara clarified. “A lone wolf.” She took Ryn’s hand and linked their fingers together.

  “I’m not alone right now.” Her lips soft and warm, Ryn kissed Kiara. “Especially if you’re ditching class again.”

  “He posts all the slides online anyway,” Kiara murmured against Ryn’s mouth. She already felt herself getting wet as Ryn tugged the sheets down to expose her.

  “Oh, well, in that case…” Ryn trailed her hand down Kiara’s stomach. “Why don’t I propose a different syllabus?”

  Chapter Nine |

  “Why can’t he just use filters, like normal people?” Kiara asked under her breath as she poked unhappily at what she assumed was Nathan’s coffee maker. It sat on the counter in front of her, too shiny and modern, and she wanted to punch it. Beside it stood a tall metal rack full of incomprehensible plastic pods.

  There had to be some way, other than using the terrifying machine in front of her, to get the hot water on top of the coffee grounds and filter it into a cup. Having slept fitfully, with one eye open and angled toward the door all night, Kiara wasn’t willing to start the day without coffee.

  “Defeated by technology?” Stifling a yawn, Nathan came down the stairs. Kiara scowled, tugging self-consciously at the hem of her T-shirt.

  “Not defeated,” Kiara argued. A person couldn’t be defeated by an inanimate object.

  “Uh huh,” Nathan agreed, patently humoring her. “It usually doesn’t hurt to turn it on.” He tapped an unremarkable round button on the side, and the machine in front of her coughed. Kiara edged away, let Nathan fuss with it, and passed him a mug from the cupboard when he waggled impatient fingers.

  “Cream, sugar?” he asked when the machine gave a final, menacing hiss and the stream of steaming hot coffee sputtered to a stop.

  “Please.”

  Nathan opened the fridge and passed her a small carton of cream before he bent to rummage in a drawer. Finally, with a beam of triumph, he pulled out a tiny packet of sugar—the kind found at a crappy diner—and tossed it her way.

  “Thanks,” was Kiara’s grudging reply as she tore off the top and let the grains spill into her cup. Left to her own devices she’d pour sugar straight from the bowl, but given the dubious nature of the now-empty packet in her hands, she resigned herself to sugar-free coffee going forward.

  Nathan stuck his own mug in the machine, and the process started all over again. Kiara suppressed a shudder of distaste and eased out of the kitchen to stand on the other side of the island.

  “Thank you, again, for letting us stay here,” she said stiffly. It was no small favor, and she wanted him to know that it was appreciated.

  Cupping his mug—WORLD’S BEST LIBRARIAN, it proclaimed cheerfully—Nathan shrugged. “I don’t mind the company, though usually I prefer it arrives before midnight.”

  Kiara nodded and took a sip of the coffee. It could be sweeter, but wasn’t half bad.

  Movement at the doorway of the apartment brought Kiara’s attention to Arthur, who looked up at both of them with something approaching desperation.

  “Oops.” Nathan set down his mug. “I’d better take him out. B-R-B!”

  “Be right back” has the same number of syllables, Kiara thought grumpily. She took her coffee and walked across the room to the large windows that made up the far wall. The rain was still falling; the sky was a miserable gray. Peering down, she could make out Nathan as he emerged from the building with a blue hoodie clutched tightly under his chin. Arthur danced along the sparse grass beside him.

  The rain muffled some of the noise from street, but she could hear the light cadence of Nathan’
s voice as he spoke to Arthur and the rumble of traffic in the distance. Footsteps approached; two figures headed toward Nathan and Arthur. Kiara tensed and pressed closer to the cold pane of the window. But the two people passed Nathan and Arthur without incident, and Kiara forced herself to stand down.

  Bare feet slapped on the stairs behind her. Kiara turned and promptly wished she hadn’t.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” Ryn wore nothing but her white button-up from the night before, and Kiara’s face heated at the glimpse of her long legs. She turned to the window.

  “Did you sleep well?” Ryn asked. Kiara made a noncommittal noise. She heard Ryn open cupboards until she found the mugs and then the coffee maker came back to life. The noise flooded the apartment. Aware that she couldn’t keep staring out the window forever, especially now that Nathan and Arthur were out of sight, Kiara took a long swallow of her coffee and went to the kitchen.

  “There’s no sugar.”

  “Aw, don’t say that, love—you’re sweet enough for me.” Flirting came to Ryn as easily as breathing, and Kiara refused to let it get to her. Besides, both of them knew that Kiara was anything but sweet.

  Ryn rummaged in the fridge until she found the cream. Gesturing at the apartment, she asked, “How long have you known him?”

  “A while. Jamie has known him longer. He helped, last year, with the rogue.”

  Ryn’s brow furrowed. “The rogue?”

  “Deanna works for Wolf’s Run, you know, the mobile game where humans pretend to be werewolves, so they can claim territory or whatever.”

  “Seriously?” Ryn grinned. “I love that app.”

  Of course she did. “Right, well, over the summer she started getting harassed. Someone with the username ‘crywolf’ sent her threatening messages and then mail. He said he was actually a werewolf, and that the game was upsetting. Obviously no one believed him.”

  “Obviously.”

  “But Jamie clued in—so then she had to tell Dee, because she didn’t think Dee was taking his threats seriously enough. He came after Dee and some of the other game players. Nathan and Dee and Jamie held him off until Cole and I could get there. And then we were able to pass him off to GNAAW.”

  “Do you know what happened to him?”

  “To who?”

  “Crywolf. Do you know what they did with him?”

  Kiara shook her head, baffled. “GNAAW has him. He won’t hurt anyone again.”

  “You’re not even the least bit curious? You don’t want to know where they took him? Or if he’s still alive?” Ryn pushed off the counter with disgust written in every line of her body. “I thought maybe you’d get over the unquestioning obedience at some point. I guess not.”

  “Not everything has to be questioned, Taryn. Not everything needs to be fought against.”

  Ryn gave a quiet laugh. “That’s how you’ve always seen it—as fighting against something. It’s not what I’m fighting against, Kiara, it’s what I’m fighting for. It’s too bad you’ve never found anything worth it.”

  Kiara’s mouth snapped open, but the sound of more footsteps on the stairs had her biting her tongue.

  “Morning.” Deanna yawned, raking a hand through her mess of curls. “Everyone sleep okay?”

  Jamie came down the stairs behind her, carefully avoided making eye contact with either Kiara or Ryn, and made a beeline for the coffee.

  “Fine,” Kiara responded shortly. Ryn sauntered past her into the living room, where she sprawled over one end of the couch.

  “Nathan take Arthur out?” Deanna asked as Jamie handed her a cup.

  Kiara nodded. “There’s no sugar.”

  Deanna made a face, but didn’t complain further as she took a drink. Jamie found orange juice in the fridge and poured herself a tall glass. The three of them stood around the island. Jamie and Deanna exchanged uncomfortable looks. Kiara snuck a look at Ryn out of the corner of her eye. Ryn had set her mug on the window ledge and tipped her head against the wall behind her. She looked completely comfortable, and Kiara hated her.

  “If there’s no sugar, I’ll take some of that juice.” Cole wandered down to join them. Unlike the rest of them he’d had the chance to grab a change of clothes, and his Teagan and Sara Love You to Death tour shirt fit him comfortably. Kiara thought she might hate him, too.

  As Cole put the juice into the fridge, the front door opened. Deanna jumped—unlike the three werewolves, she hadn’t heard the elevator doors open or Nathan chat to Arthur as they’d come down the hall.

  “I brought donuts.” Nathan kicked off his sneakers and dropped the box on the island. In the living room, Ryn’s eyes popped open, and she was on her feet with unnatural speed.

  Deanna went to grab plates, but by the time she turned back each werewolf had a donut in their hands—and in Cole’s case, halfway down his throat. Jamie reached for a plate, and Kiara swallowed her bite of rainbow sprinkle and dropped the donut on the plate Deanna offered.

  “You guys are lucky I’m not trying to poison you,” Nathan observed. He chose the double chocolate.

  “I’d smell poison.” Ryn licked powdered sugar from her fingers. Kiara forced herself to look away and not think about how, if she kissed Ryn right now, Ryn would taste as sweet as the missing sugar.

  “Okay, now that everyone is fed—”

  Cole was already reaching for his second donut.

  “—I think we should sit down and talk about what’s going on and what we can do.” Nathan retrieved his mug from the counter and gestured at the living room.

  “I don’t know anything more.” Kiara decided it was best to bluntly head off any questions.

  Nathan rolled his eyes. “I said sit down first.”

  Annoyed at herself for feeling chastised, Kiara took her mug and her donut and went into the living room. Ryn had resumed her seat on the couch, so Kiara sat in the armchair. Cole chose the large black beanbag, settling himself into it with every appearance of comfort, and Jamie and Deanna joined Ryn on the couch. Nathan answered the beeping microwave, pulled out his reheated cup of coffee, and folded himself on the area rug in front of the coffee table.

  “So,” he said finally. “We don’t know anything more, but now that we’re all relatively sober and well-rested, I think it might be best if we go over what we do know.” He pulled out a pen and notebook from the coffee table’s lower shelf and twisted to look expectantly at Kiara.

  “We were raised hearing about the Huntsmen. They’re not supposed to be real, not exactly. They’re like... the boogeyman. They’ll get you if you’re bad.” Kiara shrugged and looked helplessly at Cole. She didn’t know how to explain the sudden collision of their lives with what amounted to a fairy tale.

  “You told me you thought they were real.” Ryn leaned forward and caught Kiara’s eyes. “You said no one talked about it, not really, but that you thought they were real. You warned me to be careful.”

  Kiara looked away, uncomfortable suddenly in the comfortable armchair. She remembered the conversation Ryn was talking about: curled under the sheets in the small room Ryn rented, with snow blowing heavily against the windows and lit candles placed throughout the room. Kiara had wanted them to never leave.

  “I wanted you to know about them.” Kiara was the first other werewolf Ryn had ever met, and Ryn’s complete lack of knowledge about their world had been troubling—terrifying, actually.

  “There are enough stories about them that it’s not an unreasonable conclusion.” Cole shrugged. “Our pack hasn’t had dealings with them, but I think others have. It’s not spoken about. We’re supposed to police ourselves, you understand. According to tradition, the Huntsmen are what happens if we can’t, or won’t. It’s embarrassing for a pack to be unable to control their members or deal with their own problems. Embarrassing for GNAAW as well. But occasionally packs try to hide things from GNAAW. Not ev
eryone is content to be supervised and regulated.” He gave a wry grin at Ryn. “When they try to deal with problems on their own, when what they need is support, things can go wrong. And that’s when the Huntsmen supposedly come in.”

  “Okay, hang on.” Deanna set her mug on the coffee table with a clatter. Anger colored her cheeks. “Where the hell were these guys last year? Where were they when crywolf wouldn’t leave me alone, when he showed up at the Wolf’s Run event? If these guys are so worried about keeping everyone safe, where were they then?” Her voice broke on the last word and with a furious sob she turned to Jamie, who wrapped her up and held her close. Over the top of Deanna’s head, Jamie met Kiara’s hard eyes with her own.

  “It’s a good question, K.”

  “It is. And I don’t know. This isn’t something we—” Kiara gestured to herself and Cole. “Have any experience with.”

  “And Uncle Michael?” Jamie asked.

  “I don’t know.” Kiara was getting tired of repeating it. “Dad’s never said anything about them beyond the boogeymen stuff.”

  “Again—” Nathan broke in. “I think we need to stop talking about what we don’t know, and talk about what we do. So,” he read back to them. “The Huntsmen are a human policing force. They know about werewolves. They are after one, or all, of the werewolves in this room. Is that correct?”

  Kiara nodded.

  “We don’t know how they know about us, we don’t know what they know about us, and we’re not sure what it is, exactly, that they want.” Nathan tapped his pen against the table. “Can one of you who was there last night run me through what happened? In detail,” he stressed.

  “We spotted them in the club. The axe is supposed to be their symbol, and there were at least two of them in the bar with axe tattoos. When we got out onto the street, there was another. Three in total. One woman, two men. They cornered us, drew weapons, and threatened Deanna.” Kiara paused, reluctant to describe what happened after that.

  “Kiara stopped the one pointing the gun at me,” Deanna broke in. “The other two ran. And then we left.”