Lilith Mercury, Werewolf Hunter Series (Boxed Set, Books 1-3)

by Tracey H. Kitts

  “I figured.”

  “I dumped him because he was a liar.”

  “Trust me, I can relate.”

  Kathryn, who knew my track record for picking up losers, only laughed.

  A short while after our conversation, I was staring in the mirror at my reflection. The dress Kat and I decided on was black. I had always thought I looked good in black, and I was hoping everyone else would agree. The dress was sleeveless, and fit close against my throat, with a clasp behind the neck. I wanted to avoid drawing attention to my breasts. I felt it was an inappropriate occasion to show cleavage. Given that I needed to make a competent impression, I didn’t want to flash my assets. The back was open below the clasp. Though it did not reveal too much, the dip in back was low enough that wearing a bra was out of the question. The shimmering fabric draped over my slender waist and the curve of my hips, falling in silken splendor to my ankles. There was a split on the left side that came to mid-thigh. High enough to be sexy, but low enough to avoid looking slutty. My shoes were black leather with a three inch heel. Across the top were straps that tied just above my ankles.

  When I was fairly certain that I was presentable, I went downstairs to meet Alfred. I saw him at the foot of the stairs and my heart stopped. He was standing there, checking his watch and looking impatient. He looked up and saw me, and his mouth opened slightly as if he was going to say something, but no words came. He looked wonderful. Alfred wore a black tuxedo, complete with one of those neat little bowties. Where other men might have looked like a penguin, he managed to look like he’d stepped out of a really sexy spy novel and into my home.

  As I reached the last few steps, I stretched my hand up playfully and closed Alfred’s mouth.

  “Thank you,” I said as I smiled up at him.

  His kiss was soft and unexpected against my lips. Every time Alfred touched me I wanted him, and this time was no exception.

  “Aren’t we running behind?” I asked.

  “Yes.” He smiled, and kissed me again.

  I pulled back reluctantly. “Then we should get going.”

  He looked disappointed. “Are you upset with me?”

  “No.” I smiled. “But we don’t have time to finish what you were about to start.”

  My heels clicked on the hard wood of the last few steps and I found that even with a three inch heel, I only came to the middle of Alfred’s chest. Dr. Alfred Moody is six-foot-five, and normally, my five-foot-four frame came to just slightly below the middle of his chest. I loved how small and fragile I felt in comparison to him. I enjoyed Alfred’s strength. Looking up into his handsome face, I found it hard to believe he was my father’s age. Of course with the Terran life span being what it is, he didn’t look fifty-one. Alfred could easily have passed for thirty-something, making his assumed age seem appropriate for any prying eyes in the small town where I lived.

  We descended the dark narrow passageway that led down to Alfred’s lab in silence. I think we were both dreading the ball for different reasons. I was nervous about people watching my every move. But I believe Alfred was more worried about his old partner, Jacob Mercury, my father and commander of The Hunters. Neither one of us had exactly told him about “us” but I didn’t feel it was necessary. My dad had always been clever, and I’m sure he’d worked it all out by now. Alfred however, did not like to have loose ends about anything, and felt we should say something. He simply had no idea how that topic of conversation should be approached.

  I stood back while Alfred pressed the tile that would transport us across the street from the headquarters of The Hunters. The building itself had many transporters; however they had been shut down for the event for security reasons. I traveled by transporter about once a year, because that was all I could stand. I had never grown accustomed to the awful sort of freeze dried feeling it gave me. The circle of small white tiles began to emit a soft glow, and I stepped into them with Alfred. I was careful not to touch him. Wouldn’t want my particles mixing with someone else.

  Instantly, I had the sensation of strong cold hands reaching deep inside of me and it felt like my body was being frozen from the inside out. Just when the feeling became so cold it hurt, nearly to the point of terrible pain, it was over. I swayed slightly, and Alfred’s strong hand on my shoulder steadied me.

  “Shit, I hate these things,” I said, rubbing my bare arms to fight off the nonexistent cold.

  “Yeah, you never quite get used to that feeling,” Alfred agreed, though he seemed to be having no difficulty. I think he was just being sympathetic.

  Terra is not what most people would expect in an alien planet. Although there are many advanced technologies available, there were no massive robots walking the streets, or spacecraft zooming through the air. Of course, one reason for that was the airspace over The Hunter’s headquarters was restricted. As we stepped out onto the street, I got a good look at my favorite thing about my home planet, its moons.

  Chapter Two

  Dusk had just settled over the landscape, casting a soft purple glow. The sky on Terra always had a faint purplish tint, but at night it seemed to glow like a deep gem. Planet Terra has two moons, and that night they hung like magnificent crescents in the sky. Their soft light illuminated a path up the street, where others could be seen making their way to the same destination. The Hunter’s headquarters rose toward the sky like a large silver bullet pointed to the heavens.

  “We might as well get this over with.” I sighed, taking the lead toward the building.

  Headquarters was actually covered with mirrors facing all angles of the many streets it sat in the middle of. But, to the casual observer the bullet shaped building looked like just that, a big silver bullet with no windows and only one entrance. It was as I approached this entrance that I ran into the last person I ever expected to see.

  Bradley Daniel stood directly in front of the steps leading into headquarters, and he had the nerve to smile at me. Bradley and I had dated for three and a half years. Turns out he was married. He lied to me, cheated, and everything else in between, and he had the nerve to smile at me. I wanted to hit him. But like so many times before, my heart hurt when I looked at Bradley. He was still good looking, with a tall muscular physique, and dark close cut hair. He was definitely my type. However, Bradley turned out to be someone entirely different than the person I thought I knew. The man who stood before me was not the man I’d fallen in love with. I was in love with an ideal, and Bradley no longer fit the profile. I decided not to speak, and tried to walk past him.

  “You’re not even going to speak?” he asked with a conversational tone.

  “Why bother with a hello when goodbye is so unimportant to you?” I said. I fought to keep my voice calm and even, but it did not have the casual tone his did. My voice was strained, and what I said was meant to sting.

  “Would it matter if I apologized?” With these words he put his hand on my wrist and stopped me where I stood on the second step.

  I removed my hand from him with as much dignity as I could muster, but the look of disgust on my face must have been unmistakable.

  “No, it wouldn’t,” I said softly, “and don’t ever touch me.”

  “I had no idea …” he began stupidly.

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me, Bradley. You never really did have a clue, did you?”

  “Listen, I—”

  “Am a coward and a liar and should know when to keep my mouth shut,” I interrupted with a hiss. “How dare you presume to touch me, to speak to me, after the way you acted?” I turned my back on him again as I said, “You and I have nothing more to say to each other.”

  I looked back over my shoulder at the other people in the street and saw Alfred approaching. He had been stopped by a colleague, but was walking faster after having noticed who I was speaking to.

  “I just thought that since I was divorced now …”

  I was disgusted. “Now that you’re divorced you can dedicate more time to yourself. After all
, that was always your first love,” I said with as much contempt as possible.

  “Is everything all right?” Alfred asked, as he walked up and placed a hand on my shoulder.

  “We were having a conversation,” Bradley answered, though the question had been directed at me.

  “No, you were not,” Alfred said coldly.

  We turned to walk up the steps and Bradley made the mistake of touching Alfred’s shoulder. “Just what do you think you’re—?”

  But he never got to finish the sentence. Without hesitation, Alfred rounded on him. Even at close range, Alfred’s punch had some serious power behind it. In the blink of an eye, Bradley lay at the foot of the steps with blood gushing from his broken nose. I admit I was shocked, but very pleased all the same.

  Alfred stepped forward and growled menacingly, “Stay down you son of a bitch.”

  Bradley pressed a handkerchief to his nose, but he stayed put. Coward. I touched Alfred’s arm lightly as I walked past him, letting him know without words to stay put. I knelt beside Bradley and said sweetly, “Eat shit and live, Bradley.”

  As I stood up he replied, “Don’t you mean eat shit and die?”

  “No, I want you to remember the flavor.”

  We made one more attempt to enter the building, and I realized with some horror that a crowd had gathered. Alfred was on the fourth step this time when Bradley, who was following me, spoke again, “I just thought that—”

  This time, the punch knocked him hard enough that he skidded slightly when he hit the ground. I turned to him once more and said something I had previously not been given the chance to say, “Goodbye, Bradley.” He actually looked startled before he passed out.

  When Alfred and I finally reached the top of the steps, we found my father amongst the gawking crowd. Jacob Mercury stood by the open front doors with his arms crossed. Some might have considered his look stern, but I knew him too well. He was thinking about something. My father, like Alfred, did not look his age. The gray streak in his red beard and fine lines near his eyes were the only indications that he was over thirty-five. He is only five-foot-ten, but his presence seemed to fill the large doorway. I saw Alfred hesitate, but just for a moment. My father was the only person I think Alfred had ever been afraid of.

  But then he smiled at us both and shook Alfred’s hand.

  “Glad you could come,” he said genially.

  I threw my arms around his neck. “Hey, Daddy,” I whispered as I kissed his cheek.

  He looked back down the steps as a few good Samaritans attempted to get Bradley on his feet again. From the look of things, he still wasn’t conscious. I can’t really say I was sorry, but I tried not to let it show. Part of me insisted it wasn’t wrong to take some small pleasure in his misery, especially after the way he’d treated me. Then again, I couldn’t cast stones.

  “That’s gonna leave a mark.” My father winked at Alfred.

  “With any luck,” Alfred said with a sarcastic smile.

  “People have been waiting for you,” he said, smiled at me and walked inside.

  Alfred and I followed a few paces behind. “See.” I smiled at Alfred. “No explanation necessary.”

  Alfred looked relieved, and after seeing Bradley get some of what he had coming, I felt the same way. This was not my first trip to headquarters, but the place never failed to give me pause. The high arch of the ceiling in the entrance was covered with a magnificent mural. Michelangelo, as some may have guessed was “not of this world,” and it was one of his finest masterpieces which adorned the high ceiling. The painting depicted a pack of werewolves kneeling at the feet of one of the few remaining images of the first Hunter. He had always seemed so familiar to me, standing tall and dark underneath the full moon, but that night something was different. I felt like I knew him, but that was not possible. I realized Alfred was leaving me behind and picked up my pace, attempting to clear my head of the ridiculous thought.

  I glanced around the entrance hall once more. Here people mingled near a table of refreshments in the corner, where a rather inebriated wizard kept spiking the punch with a flick of his wrist. The bright orange of his robes reflected in the highly polished tile of the floor. Directly in the center of the room, and also highly polished, was the emblem of The Hunters. At first glance, it looked like only a full moon, but this was known as The Blood Moon, and it glowed a deep and sinister red that reflected onto the faces of those who passed over its surface.

  As I reached the far end of the room I turned back, looking once more to the high ceiling. The image of the kneeling werewolves faded into another picture. In this picture the first Hunter was standing atop a menacing gargoyle high on a building top in the middle of a raging storm. His shirt was torn open to reveal a magnificently chiseled physique. On the left side of his chest were fresh claw marks. His cloak billowed in the wind and a whip could be seen slashing through the air, one held in each capable hand. His long dark hair, like his cloak, seemed to blend with the darkness, and become a part of the storm. All of this gave an incredibly powerful and imposing impression, but there was something in his gaze that captured me. The deep emerald green of his eyes seemed to pierce my soul as I stood there, blocking traffic, staring.

  “Are you coming?” Alfred touched my shoulder and I jumped.

  “Yeah,” I answered breathlessly.

  I followed Alfred down the hall and into the enormous ball room. I saw my father waiting near the far side of the room with a man who could only be Aldan Medwin, the eldest member of The Wizard Council. I recognized him instantly from the picture I’d seen several years ago. He hadn’t changed. His long silvery white beard and hair blended together with the shimmering blue gray of his robes. The other wizards present that night seemed to enjoy the fact that they didn’t exactly blend in. To the right of the door, I saw another council member, Eldon Jokull. His name literally translates to mean, old glacier. However, he is affectionately known as Old Man Winter. Despite the fact that he was in his eighties, Jokull’s long dark hair contrasted nicely with the deep cold-looking blue of his robes. He appeared every bit as frigid as his ability to manipulate ice and snow.

  He was deeply engrossed in conversation with the final council member in attendance that evening, Abraham Conner, whose name translates to wise father of nations. Like all powerful wizards, he had a nickname as well. Abraham Conner had the ability to manipulate and distort time. It was for this reason he was known as Father Time.

  Before facing the dreaded conversation which surely awaited me, I took a brief look around and saw that the Icarum were in attendance this year. The Icarum are a race of winged people from the planet Icknar. Years ago, the lycanthropy virus spread to their planet as well. The Icarum cannot contract the virus, so there is no such thing as winged werewolves. However, this did not prevent other people from moving to the planet who could contract lycanthropy. When they learned of the actions Terra had taken to attempt some sort of control, The Hunters set up offices on Icknar at their request, eventually recruiting many of its people. Several thousand of the Icarum now lived on Terra, and some had lived on Earth years ago, but Earth wasn’t really ready for winged people just yet.

  I was halfway across the floor to where my father and Aldan stood when a familiar face alighted gracefully in my path. I had not seen Julius Blight since my days as a trainee, and couldn’t help but smile at his appearance. Julius is around six-foot-two, though the wings always made him look taller to me. His soft lavender eyes twinkled as he smiled at me and bowed elegantly, causing his startling white hair to cascade over his shoulders.

  “It’s good to see you, Julius,” I said, smiling.

  He rose to his full height again and his luscious lips curled into a smile as he brushed the hair back from his face. Julius and I had dated briefly while we’d trained together. He was still every bit as sexy as I’d remembered, but I did not love him. All the same, it was good to look at him again. There’s nothing like a gorgeous man with wings.

&
nbsp; “You look well,” he said.

  “And you.” I nodded appreciatively.

  Apparently deciding to skip pretense entirely he asked, “Would you like to dance?” As he said this, Julius looked up. There, among what appeared to be stars on the ceiling, twirled the other Icarum Hunters and their dance partners.

  “That can wait can’t it?” said a deep, but gentle voice from behind Julius.

  We both turned to see Aldan Medwin, a kind smile on his lined face.

  “You can of course have her back later,” he assured him with a smile. “But I’ve been waiting quite a while for the pleasure.”

  Julius stepped aside with another dramatic bow and flew back toward the ceiling. Aldan then turned to me, still wearing a smile and inquired, “Would you care to dance?”

  I must have looked surprised for he continued, “Surely it doesn’t shock you so much that an old man would like to dance with you?”

  “No,” I replied hesitantly, “It’s just that …”

  “Go, on. You don’t have to worry about offending me, I assure you.”

  “Well, I know that only seven wizards are born every century and I’ve seen four here tonight.” I paused. “I feel privileged, but I never expected to dance with one.”

  It may have sounded like a kiss up sort of statement, but it was true. I was a little awestruck, for lack of a better word.

  “You have a way with words, my dear. But may I offer a bit of advice?”

  I nodded.

  “Never trust a wizard who cannot dance.” His eyes sparkled with this comment, and I knew that I liked Aldan Medwin.

  The band immediately struck up a waltz and I took his arm without hesitation.

  “What can I do for you Mr. Medwin?” I asked politely.

  “Please, call me Aldan. And it is I who am your humble servant,” he replied. “You know,” Aldan remarked as he twirled me around dramatically, “I cannot help but feel that I know you. Perhaps it is your striking resemblance to a former member of the council.”

  I froze for a moment; I knew who he was talking about. My great, great grandfather, Mathias Alexander, had been the last member of the council to die in office. It was his vacated council seat that Aldan Medwin had taken over.