Hunter's Promise

by Billi Jean

  She grabbed his arm before he could touch her and raised his sleeve. The claw mark was all but healed. Still, she knew caution was always better under these circumstances. He tensed when she traced it with her fingers.

  “Okay, satisfied my kitty scratch is okay?”

  “It was more than that.” She dropped his hand.

  “All right, it was. Now, raise your arm, not too high,” he warned, and bent closer to her gunshot. “It still looks damn painful. Is it? Don’t lie.”

  “It’s tender. It lets me know it’s there. The beating Larisa gave it didn’t help,” she added, watching his frown deepen. “But it really doesn’t hurt.”

  “It’s bruised,” he said. “Bullet wounds do that, though. People think it’s the direct puncture that causes the pain but it’s a punch to your body then a puncture. It’s not safe. It’s not neat, and it’s never a quick heal.”

  “Trauma.”

  “Right,” he said. “Now the stitches were pretty sweet and barely left any marks, huh? I should have a badge for that.”

  “A badge huh? Like Boy Scouts?”

  He laughed. “Sure, why not? Stitching a pretty girl should be badge worthy.”

  She kept silent. Pretty wasn’t what she was now. He didn’t agree for some strange reason.

  “How long were your parents married?”

  “They still are. You got your intel wrong.”

  “I did not. They were divorced—”

  “Nope, they’re still driving each other nuts, but my brother is divorced. He’s named after my dad. You might have gotten them mixed up. Happens all the time. Now, he’s a piece of work. One of those glasses half-empty kinda fellas you can’t be around too long. My mom stands him but my dad’s been wondering for years where the hell he came from.”

  “What? Really?”

  “Nah, he never says it, out loud, but he thinks it pretty clearly. It’s never easy, being a parent, if you do it right. It’s easy to fake it,” he added, glancing at her face then the room. “They hurt you pretty bad, huh? Abuse? Rape?”

  Shocked, she smacked him on the top of his head. Not hard but enough to get his attention.

  He clutched his head and frowned. “What was that for? And for the record, you hit like a girl.”

  “You don’t ask things like that when you’re just chilling and re-bandaging me.”

  “Why don’t I? I just did. Should I candy coat it and discuss it over, what? A session on a couch?”

  She really didn’t understand how he was so easy with her life. It was because he didn’t know, didn’t understand that those words—abuse, rape—meant something…

  That wasn’t right. He knew. He might know more than she understood. The scar on his genitals, that was personal. They’d been going to cut his… Well, part if not all of his package off. She’d heard of it, in war, men doing that to other men. Castration, or taking the whole nine yards and letting the guy bleed out. But…Rick. Had he been through something…like rape?

  She couldn’t fathom such a strong man ever being helpless, held down and used like that. She couldn’t even imagine him being pinned under someone, forced to listen to someone else in the midst of rutting to their release while he was in agony and humiliated.

  “It started here, with my uncle, but I…managed to survive without him raping me. He limited it to touching,” she offered. She shivered. It was worse, in her opinion, than if he’d just climbed on top and gone for it. The way he’d always watched her, always waited for her to be alone so he could touch her when no one was there had made her life hell.

  “The guy in the picture,” Rick said.

  She knew the picture, but hadn’t seen it in years. Rick had snooped, but she’d known he had.

  “Yeah, the guy in the picture.”

  “Damn, how old were you when it started?” He globbed some antibacterial cream on her stomach, and the coolness soothed the burn of him touching and poking the injury. Afterward, he began wrapping the knife wound. “I sure the hell hope you stay out of trouble today and don’t get, I don’t know, set on fire or shot with an arrow…hit with a mace, or sword…”

  “I’ll try,” she muttered. “I was ten. He died when I was twelve. He touched me the first time on my birthday and every day after until he was taken to the hospital a year later. He stayed there and passed away in his sleep.”

  “Shit, I hate that kind of sick bastard stuff. Men can be something else, I’ll tell you.”

  “Women are just as bad, sometimes,” she offered.

  Kincaid stood and took her with him. “Not by a long shot, but yeah, there are some winners out there. Now this Larisa woman, she’s a piece of work. What do you think she did to her guy?”

  “Demetry?”

  “Yeah, we’re going to see her again. Why do I think that?”

  “Because she’s an evil bitch and wants you dead—or me, or both?”

  “Why is that?” he asked, watching her tug on her T-shirt. As soon as she was dressed, he motioned for her to come on. “Gate us to L.A.”

  “Really, we have all the supplies we need—”

  “I ate all your candy, so we don’t, do we?” He caught her hand and squeezed it. “You amaze me, but I’m still not sure what with more. Your inability to see how damn amazing you are, or your complete faith in me.”

  “I don’t have complete faith in you,” she scoffed.

  “Then, I guess it’s your inability—”

  “Kincaid,” she growled, and grabbed him by his camo jacket. “If you don’t shut up, I will seriously fry you. Now, hold on while I do all the work.”

  “Baby, that’s good for me, since you held on while I did all the work this morning, with Little Rickie’s help, of course.”

  “Save me from your ego, please,” she muttered, but formed the gate—to the compound—and smirked at him when he gave her a stone cold dirty look.

  She suffered it since it was better than shopping and much better than the house of horrors they were leaving behind.

  “Coming?” she whispered, and took the bull by his Little Rickie and squeezed.

  “Woman,” he growled, but stepped through the gate.

  She let go and he snatched her hand back to his hips and curled her fingers around his semi-hard penis.

  “You shouldn’t name your body parts.”

  He snorted. “And you should follow orders. This means no trail mix.”

  “You’ll survive.”

  He was growing aroused under her hand, even without her doing more than letting Rick hold her there. It was so erotic her panties were going to be wet soon.

  “I wanted to get you some different clothes.”

  “They have those here, and guess what else they have here? A level for us to check out, remember, Mr. Bossy? If those changelings are still here, after this long.”

  Rick suddenly released her hand, but not her. Startled by being pressed back to the consoles with Rick between her legs, she gasped and he kissed her. He didn’t just kiss her, he cupped one hand under her butt, squeezed her ass and pressed his erection to her pussy and kissed her silly. When she was panting and more than ready to get undressed again for another climax with his wild rides, he released her mouth and stepped away.

  Head down, sexy as ever, he shook his head, breathing hard and said, “Fine, but you get hurt and I’m not doing that thing you like with Little Rickie.”

  Oh, if that wasn’t motivation to keep her butt safe, nothing was. “That’s a deal.”

  Kincaid winked, as if he knew it would be.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kincaid swore softly, pulled Hunter closer and pushed her to the wall next to him, signaling for her to be quiet. Her soft breath hit his neck, making his body tense even harder than it was at the thought of her getting hurt. Again.

  His threat on the no-sex seemed to have made an impact, but he wasn’t dumb enough to think she hadn’t been careful the first two times. Besides, now that he’d gotten his body aligned with hers,
nothing was keeping him away from her for long. She didn’t seem to mind that, though. But right now, for once, he wasn’t thinking wild rides, he was focused on her and her not coming to any harm.

  “I heard it too, but I don’t hear it now,” she whispered, referring to the sound that had him pressing her to the wall.

  “It could be more of those creatures,” he offered, trying to work it out. This level was all but cleared, though. They’d done it themselves, prior to Larisa’s arrival and their five-night honeymoon.

  “Or something worse,” she muttered.

  “Great, you’re full of sunshine today,” he murmured, barely getting the words out before a shout broke through their little alone time.

  Hunter spun, hands already glowing. He took a stance in front of her, remembering the slippery-ass floor at the last minute so he didn’t slide right by her. Two men and a woman faced them, all three immortal, by the way they held themselves. No alarms went off, nothing to warn them. Just a shout at their backs. If he could have cursed, he would have.

  “Rick!” Hunter tugged him by his pants, and with more strength than he’d given her credit for, got him to step backward.

  “What is it you do here?” the woman asked, her accent thick with an Eastern European flare.

  “We could ask you the same.” Hunter stepped to his side. “Who are you and why are you here?”

  The woman was deathly pale, so probably a Vampire. She tilted her head at an odd angle, as if Hunter’s words made no sense to her. The men at her back were both blond, just like the woman, but stood respectfully at either side of her, a step behind. Clearly, she was in charge, and just as plainly, the men dressed in black behind her were ready to do whatever she said. If they were Vampires, they had some powerful strength, not to mention teeth, but the two men also held weapons—or something like weapons—in their hands.

  The woman breathed deeply and pinned ghostly pale eyes on him. “A human. You have odd choices for protection,” she said, again to Hunter.

  Hunter kept her hands powered but down by her hips. “He does well, and human is sometimes easier to handle than immortal.”

  He almost swung his head to stare at her, but stopped himself at the last second.

  My Sparky is up to something.

  The Vampire smiled to reveal a set of just barely apparent fangs. “Ah,” she purred and seemed to relax. “Is this so? I should consider this next time I hunt. But—” She paused and breathed in again. “Why are you here? I scent evil on you like a shroud, but you’re also hunting our pets.”

  Our pets. Fuck.

  “Your pets,” Hunter snapped, “are interfering with my hunt. They aren’t my hunt.”

  Oh that was clear as mud, but the Vampire frowned and motioned for her men to stay as she walked closer.

  “That’s good enough,” Hunter said when she was five feet away. “I’m looking for Balrick. He owes me a few things, and I’d like to collect all five million.”

  The Vampire startled then smiled and laughed as if Hunter had thrilled her. “I too seek this wolf,” she said in a whisper. “When I find him, I will skin him slowly and feed his liver to my pets.”

  Okay, that sucked for Balrick. If he hadn’t already been killed by Jack.

  Hunter smiled, as if that was a good idea. “I’ve tried something similar, it doesn’t work very well and it’s messy. Try disembowelment. It seems to drag the obedience out of him,” Hunter suggested, then folded her arms. Kincaid kept his mouth shut and tried to appear meaner. Not that the Vampire gave him her attention, which was good.

  “But first, he owes me. I want my money, but…” Hunter paused and tilted her head as if something had just occurred to her. She was good, very damn good at this. She smiled slowly, a truly wicked smile and took a step forward. “When I’m done, I can share,” she suggested then dropped her power. “For the right price, of course.”

  The woman’s face lit up. Obviously, she liked the idea. “He is arrogant, is he not? I believe you are not the only one hunting him for what he owes.”

  Hunter didn’t speak, but there really wasn’t much to say. He hoped the woman had some more, though, because so far they were gaining a hell of a lot of intelligence. He wanted details on the ‘pets’.

  “I heard that he was taken by a team.”

  “Old news, I heard the same, but I also heard he is free now. Wouldn’t he come back here?” Hunter asked but went on, gesturing to the empty lab. “To finish his takeover of the world and all.”

  All three Vampires laughed at that, as if they thought Balrick’s plan amusing. The taller of the men murmured something in a language Kincaid didn’t know and the other laughed. Tension racked Kincaid’s shoulder blades, but he trusted Hunter without reserve. He kept his attention on everyone, hoping that Larisa didn’t drop in and spoil the charade. Or worse, the Vampires wanted to snack on him as a sign of trust.

  “True, he might return, or he will go to his place in the mountains,” the Vampire murmured thoughtfully, eyeing Hunter. After only a moment of that, she stepped closer. He didn’t like it, but kept his feet glued to the floor. There was now three feet between them, and he was two steps behind Hunter. When Hunter moved forward so did he. He got a glance, no more, from the woman. Hunter stilled him with a hand then patted his left arm.

  Holy shit. She’d lost her mind, or else thought the Vampire had something. His gut said the Vampire had something, so he eased his panic over Hunter’s safety and concentrated on escape routes.

  “If you would find him and bring him to me, I would reward you very well,” the Vampire offered. “My time is taken up here, tracking these and bringing them back to the hold.”

  “These?” Hunter asked, glancing around then over at the Vampires. “You mean you know what the hell these things are?” she asked as if impressed.

  He gave her props. She was convincing. If he didn’t know her better, if she’d not saved his ass back in Washington and taken a bullet for him, he would have been completely buying her story. She was smart, too. She kept it simple. And truthful—they were after Balrick—or what he’d been doing. Balrick had been taken, then gotten free—once.

  “These are just a few of our creations, and only because of Balrick are they loose like this. He had no sense of what he was doing. These he called mistakes,” she said. “Can you imagine? They are perfect.”

  “He was nuts, I’ll give you that,” Hunter said. “I’ve never seen such viciousness, especially those red-eyed ones. Those things are killers, and believe me, I’ve seen my fair share. They don’t seem to like the other ones, though, so we kept them all at arm’s length. I’ve had enough fun for a while and didn’t want much more on this job,” Hunter muttered, tipping her head to make sure they got a good look at her bad side. “The red-eyed ones thought we’d be a good snack. Not so cool, but the others? They ran like we were the ones on all fours. What’s up with that, huh?”

  “Ah, the smaller ones?” she asked, disdainful as all get-out.

  Hunter shrugged as if she wasn’t sure.

  “Those have their uses,” she said, “but are much too weak. If you survived their attack, which is impressive, you are strong. I scent only a little blood was shed.”

  So they were different. Changelings and…Balrick’s mistakes. Did that mean Balrick had also made the changelings?

  Hunter snorted. “My blood, but thanks, we try. Do the big ones think or are they merely”—she waved dismissively—“trained guard dogs?”

  The Vampire scowled as if Hunter had disrespected her.

  “They are sentient beings, capable of following orders, when they are fed properly,” she added. “These are simply in need of a reminder who they belong to after so long away from their masters.”

  Hunter shifted her feet. “Where should I begin to search for Balrick? Do you have any word from him?”

  Kincaid swallowed hard past a dry throat, glad she’d dropped the questioning for now. She kept to her goal, or her pretend goal, of
getting her money from Balrick. She was good, treating everything else going on around her as interesting, but not her main concern. Kind of as if she was being professionally courteous over the others’ deal, but not too bothered by it all. She’d make one hell of a used car salesman.

  The Vampires spoke together, then the woman said, “His place is near here. You can’t miss it, not if you follow the logging road. The fool thinks we wouldn’t check there. You bring him to me, and I will reward you very well.” She lifted her eyebrows and bowed her head regally. “I am Charisa.”

  “Hunter,” Hunter said, giving him a minor heart attack, but at her name, the three Vampires’ eyes all widened, then the woman inclined her head even more respectfully, as if Hunter had just proven to be some superstar.

  “Hunter,” Charisa said. “We have heard of you. It would seem you have survived.”

  Hunter laughed. Not the most pleasant sound by far. A chill ran down his back at the misery and pain he heard in it.

  “You could say that.” Her grin was firmly in place. “Tell you what,” she said, as if thinking it through. “I’ll take you up on that offer, if”—she gestured to the compound—“I can leave here without another bout with your pets. After that, I’ll see about finding Balrick. If I find him, I’ll bring him to you on a chain if you want, after he pays me, of course. I hate my bank account falling below ten digits.”

  The three Vampires laughed. “We can do better. You bring me Balrick and I’ll not only show you the way out, I might have a proposition for you—if your interests lie with money.”

  “Most of my interests fall with money.” Hunter caressed his shoulder. “Most.”

  Charisa laughed as if Hunter pleased her in some way. “Well, perhaps you should consider coming back with me, to where there is more money to be made. Where all this began.”

  Hunter tipped her head “Began? You mean this isn’t the first place like this? This place is top of the line, underground megacity. I was wondering when it would open back up.”

  “It may reopen, but I am not certain. No, oh, no, this installation is not the first. The installation in London wasn’t the beginning either,” she said, disdainfully referring, he guessed, to the club where Hunter had been taken. The Vampire knew a hell of a lot. He just hoped Hunter did too. “If you’re interested,” she added, “I can show you.”