Rogue Huntress: a new adult urban fantasy novel (Rogue Huntress Chronicles Book 1)

by Thea Atkinson

  "He knows exactly how connected we are now," I said. "He felt it. It's why he sent me to kill you."

  "Loose ends, you see?" he said. "But he's safe. I was carrying him and Olanna out. Some old woman found us--"

  "Dara," I said, feeling relief sink in finally. "She has a farmstead south of here."

  "That's what she said. I didn't believe it till I went with her."

  "And now I'm left with that hated bond and this inexplicable drive to fuck my brains out." I forced myself to turn away from him. The strange heat had dissipated a bit, but every time I thought of Caleb, I had a terrible urge to tear the shirt from my back again. Just recalling the way I'd forced myself on Jeb turned my mind to mush. I wanted it again, and yet I wanted Caleb. It was all a confusing muddle.

  "You still feel it?" he said. "After that?"

  I spun on him. "Especially after that. I can't explain it, but I can't bear to look at you and I can't stand feeling this urge to –" I broke off, too ashamed to continue.

  "I understand," he said and I heard him pulling the backpack onto his shoulders and pushing into the thickest part of the undergrowth. I didn't dare shout at him to ask what he was doing and ended up waiting and peering into the dense shrubbery. He came back with a thready golden root at least a foot long.

  "Eat this," he said. "And then keep your distance."

  I plucked it from his hand and grimaced.

  "Go on," he urged. "It'll combat the heat."

  I hung my head. "You know about the heat?"

  He chuckled. "I told you I wasn't just a simple mercenary."

  I jammed the root, dirt and all into my mouth, willing to do anything to stop feeling so hot and onetrack minded. The bitterness made me gag. "This is disgusting."

  "Is it?" he said, all innocence. "I've never tasted it."

  I decided I hated the smug way his face looked as I chewed and swallowed each inch of jutey string.

  "You know he wants you dead," I said, watching for that smug look to change. It didn't.

  "You will too within an hour or so," he said and pointed at my mouth when I gave him a quizzical look. "The root. It works, but it's supposed to have consequences."

  "Meaning?"

  "Meaning you want every man in your path dead."

  I thought about it. "So upwind it is then?"

  The Glee of Killing

  We set out for the mansion long before the moon rose. When it did rise, it would be full. That meant the Council, or what was left of it, would be meeting and Caleb would be informing them of his new alliance with me. I tried to imagine as I trod through the forest, just what that would mean for my pack. I simply couldn't say anymore. The Caleb I had grown up with and trained with was not the man I knew now. Perhaps he had just been very good at acting.

  Whatever the outcome, Lynden was safe only for the moment. If Caleb lived, my brother would be at risk for the rest of his days. I truly didn't think that time was very long. Caleb had obviously tried to kill them both and believed them both dead when he'd sent me to kill Jeb. He would know better eventually and this new Caleb wouldn't let the boy live to become a symbol that the Loyalists rallied to in years to come.

  Jeb came up beside me and as the smell of licorice and musk met my nose, something on the back of my neck crawled. I could already feel the heat dissipating sure enough, but every waft of fragrance that came off Jeb also came with a wave of inexplicably murderous intent.

  "I want to tear your throat out," I said through gritted teeth.

  "I think I can take you," he said with a chuckle.

  I halted and swung my gaze to his. I hoped he saw the desperation in mine because I wasn't sure how long I could hold back.

  "You truly aren't," I said.

  "It won't last, Shana," he said. "I found the longest root I could, but it does have a shelf life. You'll be back to normal within hours."

  "And then the bond will return, and the heat with it," I said, and stomped a mushroom flat in my path.

  When he moved again, it was with a step that put him close enough to me that his heat mingled with mine and I had to catch my breath from the flood of rage and lust that coursed through my veins. Everything swam in front of me and for a second I had to reach out to keep my balance.

  I felt his grip on my elbow, steadying me, and then I was in his embrace, pulled close with his mouth against my ear.

  "I think I know how it feels to have that burning beneath your skin." I felt his fingers trail up my arm. "I have it too."

  I tried to twist in his arms, to free myself so that I wouldn't hurt him. I was already trying to pull away when his other hand came up, tentative and seeking. It settled at the base of my spine then he pulled my hips against his.

  "You're half human," he whispered. "His hold is on the wolf part. You'll find what you need to resist him when it's time."

  I had to tear myself away from him or bury my face in his neck and sink my teeth in. An almost sickening concoction of adrenaline, hunger, and rage bubbled to the surface as though it were water on a hard boil.

  "What if I can't?" I said.

  "What if you can?"

  I took a long hitching breath. The woman and the wolf pitted against each other. The thought of them being in dischord at all made me ill. I'd chided Caleb for having his halves too far out of balance. How could I deny either part of myself? How could I root for one over the other?

  Maybe that had been the trouble all along. I had been denying both, and it was confusing things, making me weak. The only way I could find victory at all was to make myself whole. I was Shana, lead assassin for Beo pack, daughter to the longest ruling alpha and bondmate to the now ruling alpha. A woman who loved a human man and who lusted for the strength of a wolf who took what he wanted. And I knew what he wanted now.

  "Caleb wants you dead." I said. "Then let's give Caleb exactly what he wants."

  "Let's not be hasty," Jeb said with a nervous chuckle.

  "Give me your backpack." I held my hand out and waited for him to relinquish it to my grip. "It's full moon," I said. "That means every council member left alive will be in that room. Caleb's not fool enough to let anyone else who isn't loyal anywhere near the property."

  "That makes it easy," Jeb said.

  "No tiresome sorting or filtering of good or evil."

  "We just take out whoever gets in the way." He dropped the backpack into my hand. By now, it was blood covered and filthy, heavy with weapons.

  "Give me fifteen minutes," I said. "Then follow me in, and if Caleb still stands, kill everyone in the room. Without qualm. Even me."

  "No,"

  "Yes," I said. "If I can't kill him because of the bond, you're dead, so is your sister is dead and Lynden. I won't risk that again."

  It wasn't fool proof, but it was easy. No major decisions to make. No things to juggle. Jeb didn't agree but he scowled at me and I told myself he would do as I asked.

  When we reached the edge of my father's property, the urge dancing beneath my skin grew. The root and the heat jumbled together in a tangled mess that left me in a miasma of befuddlement. I was vaguely aware of Jeb slipping off sideways across the perimeter, no doubt searching for sentries. I pulled his blood covered backpack from my shoulder and reached in to extract the holster I had jury rigged. I slipped it over my neck and one shoulder, letting the blade and its sheath rest in the middle of my chest. If I needed to shift, I would have a weapon handy, one that would be safely tucked away beneath my rib cage when I was on all fours.

  I zippered the bag back up then trotted ahead, crossing the grass. Guards with guns paced in front of the mansion and when they noticed me they went stiff, pulling their rifles to the shoulder.

  I had to resist pulling the knife from its sheath. I muttered to myself as I strode forward: wait. Be patient. Right now I was all about getting into the Council room. Getting in safely, raising no concern, smothering any suspicion.

  Perhaps it was the confident way I sauntered forward with the bloodied ba
ckpack hanging from my hand. Maybe it was the knife sheath at the back of my waistband, the pistol in the holster on my hip, or maybe it was the look of determination on my face, but the guards parted in a wave and let me enter the house without incident. I smiled to myself. Those guards would be dead very soon when Jeb came up behind me. For a moment, something tightened in my chest as I thought of him, and then the fury rose again. They would all die. Every male. I would make sure that each one of them choked to death in their own blood.

  I expected resistance when I entered the mansion, but I received nothing but curt nods. I supposed it had something to do with the bloodied backpack I carried, stuffed with all sorts of weapons that ground against each other in a metallic symphony loud enough that any wolf within three feet would hear. I could pull them out if I wanted to, tear through Caleb's men with silver bullets as I searched for him. But I'd take care of that later. Right now was for Caleb. The fact that I strode through my father's taken over mansion with a backpack filled with pistols and silver stuffed grenades, ready to kill the man who had executed my father filled me with a sort of feverish glee.

  "Where is he?" I demanded.

  A young wolf shifter crossed his arms over his chest and stood with his feet planted. Cocky little whelp. He thought I would be impressed by his courage. Fool.

  "He's called a meeting of the elders," he said, jerking his chin upward to indicate the stairs. "There in the boardroom.

  Everything in the foyer just sort of tunnelled in as I regarded him. Two men to my left lowered their weapons to their sides when they saw it was me. The one in front of me still stood with his arms crossed as though he was unafraid.

  I had pulled a knife from my sheath before I could even register that the thought had crossed my mind. I swiped backwards as the weapon shot ahead of me and my legs dropped me to a crouch. The other knife pulled free from my opposite leg sheath and swiped backwards. I didn't have to think to know that the blade would slice through their bellies. I simply expected it. I heard their guns drop to the floor as they tried to stuff their insides back in their bellies. The stink of blood and excrement came like a tsunami.

  Elation buoyed by chest and I thought I might float up the stairs. The conference room was really a large library with a round table, and it was in my father's wing. I turned my eye to those stairs again. How many times over the last couple of weeks had I ascended those stairs to meet some sort of destiny. I smiled to myself. This would be the last time.

  I wiped the blood from the blades onto my t-shirt and stuffed them back into their sheaths. The one across my chest reminded me with each tread up the steps that I couldn't float after all. It dug in between my breasts as I moved, too large a thing to be strapped beneath my armpit and over my shoulder.

  I entered the library much the same as Jeb had done with me earlier. I threw open the door and stood in the door frame for several moments, waiting for every eye to fall on me. As I took in the bank of windows that surrounded the room, I tossed the bloodied backpack to the floor at my feet.

  Close enough that I could get to it, open enough that I could shove my hand inside. I had jammed two pistols in the back of my jeans. Ready for use at a moment's notice. The blades called out to me for use. So many tender male bellies tucked in beneath that conference table. Some very grisly heads swinging there patronizing male eyes toward me. And there at the furthest end of the room sitting in the largest chair with a stack of bookshelves behind him waited Caleb. I imagined the feel of his sandy hair beneath my fingers as I pulled his head back, letting his neck strain for my teeth. I almost tasted his blood. And then something twitched in my solar plexus. As though someone had broken one of those cheap glow sticks and it was spreading coloured light through my tissues. My left knee buckled. The damn bond, asserting itself beneath the infusion.

  The tunnel division widened and I had the sense that the room had been shrouded in mist as it entered and now that mist had begun to pull back and I could see it for what it really was. Caleb was surrounded by a straggling remnant of what the council used to be. Half a dozen grizzled heads populated their spaces but there are a few new faces among them. These new faces took up the chairs that had been previously attended to by my father's most trusted. Fury rose to my throat, and I tasted blood as I chewed the inside of my cheek. The woman in me wanted to pull a pistol from my jeans and spray the room, but the beast inside whimpered at the thought it might harm Caleb. This wasn't going to be easy.

  "It's done," I said.

  The smile that crested Caleb's face reminded me of a snake uncoiling. He pushed himself to his feet with his fingertips on the oak table. He swung his gaze in a circle from one member to the other before he spoke.

  "Do you still need to see the video?" he asked.

  Several of the men hung their heads. So they had asked for proof that I had submitted. And now with my presence here, acquiescing to Caleb, they needed no more. I was grateful for that. But I was still furious that he had forced that camera on us anyway. In truth, however, I would've done the same thing. The old bond had no doubt been something he had been hoping for, but in case that failed, he needed to have the proof behind him.

  "Well done," Caleb said to me.

  I nodded to pretend I had done as he'd asked but I was sick in the pit of my stomach because I wanted so badly not to feel this burning for him. Now that he was in front of me, the root's effects seemed to evaporate and I could feel the want for him dancing beneath my skin again. The lust to kill began to wane, and I swallowed, trying to remind myself that this man had murdered my father.

  I would need to dig deep to beat my way through the heat that was even now washing over me.

  I counted the shifters in the room. Three of them would have been my father's. I recognized Gerald, an elder from the pack, sitting at the table. The other six were Caleb's. Add Caleb to that and it was already too many shifters to get through. I chewed the inside of the bottom of my lip. I could take three of them at least, more than that, I would need all three Loyalists even to cause distraction.

  A squared off as Caleb came toward me, letting my peripheral vision widen to take in the entire room. The elders to my left watched with interest while the ones on my right fidgeted with their hands above the table. Everything narrowed down after that to a pin point of focus. Caleb became the only thing I saw, his the only fragrance I smelled. That infuriating cologne again. That swaggering walk. He was going to come close enough to me that I could lick him if I wanted, and I discovered to my horror that I wanted to feel him close. I wanted to reach out and touch his cheek. I almost stooped to open the backpack for him and reveal that it was a ruse. Not a satchel to carry Jeb's head at all. Just a bag full of weaponry.

  The bond was already snaking up my spine and tightening my muscles. A rush of heat flushed the back of my neck with each step he took toward me. I had to do something.

  I stepped forward, bending to scoop the backpack from the floor as I moved. I tossed it sideways at the nearest Loyalist with my right hand and with my left simultaneously pulled the bowie knife from the sheath beneath my armpit. I pulled the blade from its sheath with a backward swipe that cut through the neck of the guard at the door even as he made a move to disarm me. A spray of hot blood landed on my cheek, cutting into my vision. I blinked. The room was left with a film of sticky ooze, and in that one short movement, the whole of time took a deep breath. The soap bubble again, swelling with its inhale, swallowing all noise, sucking my eardrums into a vacuum that made the room throb with each beat of my heart.

  Instinct and training took over where rational thought was left scrabbling in the dust. Muscle memory rose to my body like a hulking leviathan. I stopped thinking and let it take me.

  If I intended to reach for the pistol at my back, I wasn't aware of it. It was just in my hand and then it was sailing toward Gerald. Someone called out my father's name, and it was only when my teeth clacked back together, I knew I was the one who had shouted it. After that, the soap bub
ble of time popped. I might have pulled another weapon from the back of my pants and tossed that as well. The clatter of metal on wood turned the room into pandemonium as every wolf at the table scrambled for the pistol. A kind of helium filled my lungs, lifting me above the grounding of thought. Someone would fire it. Someone would die. I had one short and final thought as I swung my right fist toward a young shifter's throat and it was of my brother. I hoped Jeb would keep his promise because I was too far in to find my way back out.

  By then, Caleb had reached me and I had no choice but to sink my hand into the backpack and pull one of the three grenades from within its belly.

  Both wolf and woman grinned at Caleb with a glee I hadn't realized I was feeling until he stood in front of me. That sandy hair mussed with annoyance and fear. That perfect physique preparing to shift if it had to, by pulling his shirt off. He could come at me if he wanted; he could embrace me or arrest me or tear my throat out Didn't matter.

  I had found a way to kill him after all and it had everything to do with mating my two halves together by making one decision.

  To Bond or Not to Bond

  It took all of two seconds for my fingers to find the pin but even though two seconds is nothing but a heartbeat, Caleb had his meaty grip pressed over the top of my hand. The other went around my throat as he pinned me against the wall. His breath smelled of curry and ginger.

  "You're wasting your time," I said to him from beneath his grip. It was a weak one, as though he were fighting with his own instinct. "We both know it."

  Despite the chaos around me, of the sounds of battle, everything in the room had funneled down to the sight of Caleb's face looming over mine, and the feel of my throat moving against his his palm. "You can't kill me," I said from beneath his grip. "No more than I can kill you."

  "I can try."

  My eyes flicked over his shoulder to take in the room. How much time had passed already? Five minutes? Ten? I sagged against the wall and tried to swallow. The lump in my throat that rested beneath his palm wouldn't move. A look of fierce determination moved across his eyes.