Hunter's Rise

by Shiloh Walker

  Damn it, she got to him. Got to him in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain.

  Staring at her reflection in the mirror, he rolled his hips against her bottom, listened as she moaned again. Still holding her gaze, he placed a hand on her belly, stroked it up until he cupped one breast in his hand, watching her face, watching as her lips parted, as her lashes fluttered down.

  Her skin was silken-soft, warmed from his blood, from his touch. Her nipple pebbled as he brushed it lightly. He couldn’t get enough of her… the brief time they’d had in the dawn hours at his house hadn’t been enough. This wouldn’t be enough.

  Eternity wasn’t enough.

  He angled her chin around, lowered his head and took her mouth. She opened for him and he growled as she bit his lip. Even if they forgot about the rest of the world and stayed in here for the next year, it wouldn’t be enough.

  But all they had, for now, was this…

  T

  OO much. She felt surrounded by him, flooded by him. His hands raced over her body as he moved inside her with small, rocking motions— just enough to push her right to the edge of climax… and keep her hovering there. Too much. On the knife’s edge of pain and pleasure. It was too much.

  Twisting her hips, she tried to take it deeper, faster. Toronto growled in her ear, a wordless order. And she did it again. Flooded with the taste of him, surrounded by the feel of him, it was too much—

  Then he moved, and they were on the floor. Head spinning, she slammed her hands down to brace herself as he held her hips in his hands and reared back, driving into her with bruising, glorious force, and she cried out, her eyes closing.

  Again, again— his cock throbbed, swelled inside her, the head stroking over sensitized nerves and then he slid his hand around, pressed the tip of his finger to her clit.

  She shattered, falling to pieces.

  The only thing that kept her from completely losing her mind was the realization that he was falling with her— he was with her. A low, eerie noise, something caught between a howl and a growl ripped through the room as he stiffened.

  Dark, hot bursts of color exploded before her eyes as he fell forward, catching himself just before he would have crushed her body into the ground.

  Stunned, devastated, she shook in his arms and he held her. Twisting around, she slid her arms around him and held him tight. Against her cheek, she could feel the racing of his heart.

  Nothing in her life had ever felt like this. Sylvia hadn’t even realized it was possible to feel like this.

  It terrified her.

  C

  AREFULLY, she peeled away the cheese and then swiped her finger through the tomato sauce. With a blissful sigh, Sylvia popped it into her mouth and closed her eyes.

  Toronto eyed her as he chewed his way through his eighth piece. “You know, I can figure out another way for you to try that.”

  “Pervert.” Wrinkling her nose at him, she sighed. “That’s about all I can do anyway. Maybe another taste in an hour or so before we leave.”

  “No can do.” He finished his piece and grabbed another. “We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

  Sylvia snorted. “Sorry, blondie. You need to check the time. I can’t leave for another hour, at the earliest.”

  “Yeah, you can. I had a van brought in. Your bike is in storage back at my place by now.”

  Narrowing her eyes, she echoed, “Storage?”

  “Yeah.” He rocked back on the rear legs of the chair, holding a half-eaten slice and watching her with a closed expression. “We’re wasting time, only being able to move half the day. Nobody drove the bike. You have my word on it. It was loaded into a truck, taken to my place and left there. We’ve got a van where you can sleep in the back. I only need a couple of hours of sleep every few days, and if I have to, I can go a week. Having to stop every time the sun breaks the horizon is slowing us down and we still have another eight hours of driving ahead of us, not to mention I don’t know how long it will take to pin this bastard in his lair once we get there.”

  He paused, took another bite of pizza as Sylvia digested all of the information.

  Clenching her jaw, she said, “And just where is here? You still haven’t told me that.”

  “North. We’ve got more driving to do still.”

  “North,” she muttered. Hell, that was descriptive. She was two seconds away from demanding a more definitive answer from him, but she’d be snapping at him over the wrong thing. She’d rather fight with him over…

  Hell. He made sense. Glaring at him with anger simmering inside her, she wished she could just tear into him, but he fucking made sense.

  If he’d been an asshole about it and just barked at her instead of being sensible, she could have torn a strip off his hide.

  “You had no right to move my bike without asking.”

  “True.” He shrugged. “But I was trying to speed things along. I figured your main interest was in finding Pulaski… right?”

  Shit. How did she answer that? Tell him that she was paranoid about who touched her baby? Make it seem like that was more important than finding Pulaski? It was just a motorcycle. She had four others, and it wasn’t likely anything would even happen to it.

  Hell, it wasn’t even just about the bike. It was the way he was… moving in on her. The way it felt almost natural to be working with him. The way it felt almost natural to be with him. It was the way he terrified her when he held her, because it felt so damn right, so damn natural and it was going to leave a giant hole inside her when it ended. And it would end… how could it not?

  He was a Hunter. She was a mercenary. They didn’t mix.

  Hell. She couldn’t think about this now. She’d think about other shit. Stupid shit. His high-handed shit. Anything but the way it was going to hurt when he left. When she left. Whichever it came to be.

  “Just don’t make a habit of this,” she muttered, turning away from him and storming into the shower. She was going to have to wash up using the hotel’s crap, she thought, seizing on anything to get worked up over. She hated hotel brands—

  And all of that irritation deflated when she saw the black toiletry case from her bike sitting on the counter.

  She really, really wished he’d go back to being the thoughtless, arrogant asshole he was supposed to be. Her life would be so much easier that way. It was going to be a bitch as it was to walk away from him already. But if he kept doing nice things like this, and if he kept being so reasonable about other things, and so fucking good in bed…

  And then there was the way he’d gotten so fucking pissed when she’d told him what had happened to her. When he’d said he couldn’t kill whatever had hurt her if she didn’t tell him… a weird thing to get the warm fuzzies about, but… hell. Everything about him got to her.

  And she had a feeling it was too late to stop things— she was already too wrapped up in him. This was going to end in heartbreak, she realized. She’d gone all this time with having her heart broken.

  Then some cocky, smart-ass werewolf Boy Scout came along and blew that straight to hell.

  Slamming the door shut, she leaned back against it and covered her face with her hands.

  Damn it.

  T

  ORONTO listened as the door slammed, tried not to let it get to him.

  It needed to be done, right? He stared at the door, wishing he could see through it, wishing he could figure her out, understand her better… and failing.

  Miserably failing.

  Shit. Closing his eyes, Toronto thought the past day through, tried to figure out how he could have, should have done things differently.

  Did they just keep wasting time? No. That wasn’t an option, and he was pretty sure Sylvia wouldn’t argue that point. She had to see that this made sense, right? Why should they stay tucked up inside when he could damn well drive and make up some of the time they lost each time the sun rose?

  Fuck. Maybe he should have just waited in that shitty little no-tell motel an
d run everything by her…

  Hell. Was that it?

  Toronto didn’t know how to work with people that well. When he did work with somebody, it was always a Hunter, and usually somebody weaker than he was— leaving him in charge. A Hunter on a job had only one focus— the job. Just that, and there were unspoken rules.

  Move hard, move fast. Period.

  “But she doesn’t get that,” he muttered, dropping his half-eaten slice of pizza back in the box. He probably needed to eat more— skipping sleep was one thing, but weres couldn’t slack on the calories. The appetite was shot, though. Grabbing a napkin, he wiped his mouth and his fingers.

  Okay. So that could be the problem. Maybe. She didn’t get how he worked, he wasn’t used to having to explain things and they just weren’t meshing well on this part. Workable, right? He’d been treating her like she was one of the other Hunters— and a subordinate. He’d made all the calls.

  To her, that probably felt like she was being cut out. It wasn’t that… exactly.

  Sylvia was weaker than he was, and that wasn’t likely to change much thanks to what had been done to her right after her Change, but she’d survived. She’d become a fighter in her own right, and she’d done all of that on her own. Without the security he’d always had, without the network of friends or an Enclave, and no Master to watch out for her.

  She’d earned her place. She wasn’t his equal in power, but she’d damn well proven her worth as a warrior.

  He dumped the trash and went to the sink in the little kitchenette, washing up his face and hands. She’d earned her place, was used to doing things on her own and she probably felt like he was pushing her into the dark or something. He needed to apologize, right?

  This compromise shit was a hell of a lot more work than he liked.

  But they’d started this together and they’d finish it.

  She emerged from the shower less than three minutes later, wrapped in a towel, her hair twisted into a braid. Those dark eyes were still cool with anger. He’d rather see them hot. Hot was easier to deal with. That ice, she used it as a distance and he hated it.

  “Look, I… I’m used to working with other Hunters,” he said, watching as she paused by the bed, eyeing the black bag he’d brought in. It had been back at his place and he’d had Lindsey bring it up when she brought the van.

  “I don’t think you’re used to working with anybody.” Sylvia unzipped the bag and put her toiletry case inside before pulling out a pair of close-fitting black pants and panties.

  Toronto was damn glad his kind weren’t prone to heart attacks because he might have had one when she dropped the towel and pulled her panties on, then her pants. With her sleek, naked back to him, she reached back into the bag again, pulling out a bra— black— and a T-shirt— black again. In under a minute, she was dressed and turning to face him. “You have this ‘it’s my way’ deal going. We’re working this together, but you don’t ask for my input, my opinions— we just do what you think needs to be done. Is that how your kind works?” She shrugged and sat down on the bed, grabbed her boots.

  “In a way… yeah. Discussing things down to the bare bones can waste a hell of a lot of time— today, it would have. We made it to Terre Haute last night— four hours. That’s all we managed. While you were sleeping in the van, I got us to Toledo and I managed to catch an hour of sleep during the day, too. Doing it this way saved us time— we don’t have any to spare.” He stared at her bowed head, waiting for her to look at him. “I’m not trying to cut you out… it’s just how I’m used to operating. I’ve done it for a damn long time, Sylvia, and if you think it through, it makes sense. You had to rest— you can’t be in the sun. But we’re losing time. I can drive while you rest, so why waste the time?”

  “And you just turn my bike over to strangers?” She shifted her dark gaze to his, her face an unreadable mask. “You haul me out of a motel in the daylight?”

  “I gave it to Lindsey— a woman I trusted to get it to my house,” he snapped. Then, pulling the anger back in before it raged out of control, he said in a level tone, “I get that you don’t know her. And I get that you’re protective as hell over the damn bike. But do you want to find Pulaski or not?”

  She gave him a withering stare and tapped her feet into her boots. Rising, she grabbed her bag. “Keep your paws off my things in the future, wolf. Got it?”

  Paws—

  As she turned her back on him, he rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, Sylvia. Whatever you say. I’m sorry I pissed you off.” He could have said he’d try not to do it again, but it wouldn’t matter if he tried or not. Pissing people off was his special gift in life. He’d tried to explain— and it hadn’t done jackshit, either. She was still mad at him. Having people pissed off at him wasn’t anything new… so why did this bother him so much?

  Fuck it, he told himself silently. Fuck it, forget it, move on.

  Easier said than done, though.

  Grabbing Angel’s cloak, he tossed it in Sylvia’s direction. “Here.”

  She snagged it, whipping it around her shoulders and not looking at him. Not speaking to him.

  An ache settled in his chest, one he didn’t like at all. Thirty minutes ago, she’d been wrapped around his dick and shaking with climax. Then she’d cuddled against his chest and held him. Now she was furious with him, wouldn’t look at him or anything.

  “So, would the mighty Hunter deign to share with me any information?” Sylvia asked as fastened the cloak.

  Clenching his jaw, he debated between two responses. One was pithy and full of the temper she’d managed to spark in him. He went with the second response. “I recognized one of the scents in the house we were at. We’re heading back to where I’ve scented it before.”

  “And that would be where?” She pulled the hood up, leaving it pushed back from her face.

  For a moment, he was struck by the exotic, soft beauty of her. The dark velvet against her ivory skin, the soft tilt of her dark eyes, that pretty mouth. Fuck, he was so screwed…

  “Ah…” Turning away, he grabbed his bag from the bed. He’d already showered, already packed. He was ready. “Back where they found me, after I was attacked. A lot of us have a habit of going back to whatever place held importance for us in our mortal lives. Guess this vamp isn’t any different. I’ve noticed it before, off and on, but it’s always faint, like I’m there weeks after he is. Since nothing’s ever really tugged at me while I’m there, I never bothered to track it.” He frowned, absently reaching up to touch the back of his head, memories racing through his mind.

  Your darkest days are in your past… Nessa’s voice. She’d told him that so often.

  I told you he wasn’t going to pull through. I’ll put him down, Nessa. Put him down. Like a mongrel dog.

  You’ll do no such thing, Mary…

  Shit. Shoving the memories to the side, he looked up, found Sylvia watching him, her eyes blank and remote.

  “And where were you found?” she asked, one brow lifted.

  Forcing himself to smile, he headed for the door. “Nobody knew my name, you know. They never found any family, even though they looked. They had to call me something. I ended up telling them to call me Toronto, after the city where they found me.”

  T

  ORONTO—

  It hit her like a punch— nothing else could have hit her that hard, except maybe if he’d looked at her and told her he was going to let Alan Pulaski go free.

  Toronto.

  They were going to Toronto— nobody knew my name… Shit. Of all the cities. Why couldn’t he have been found in Detroit? Albuquerque? Paoli, Indiana, for crying out loud. Anywhere but Toronto…

  Get it together, she told herself. With a shaking hand, she pulled the hood of the cloak down over her face, made sure no sun would kiss her flesh.

  “I pulled the van around to the front entrance. They’ve got a covered overhang and it faces east. No direct sunlight, so you’ll be good,” Toronto said as they entered t
he empty stairwell.

  He might as well have been speaking Latin for all the sense his words made.

  Toronto.

  She had to get a grip on this, before he noticed.

  Too late—

  They hadn’t even rounded the first flight of steps when he realized something was off.

  So much for her poker face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Now’s not the time.”

  “Then when is?” He caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. But even as she tried to reach for some way to stall him, something saved her— on the next level, there were squeals of laughter, followed by raised, tired voices. Kids. Wonderful.

  “Maybe when we’re not trying to get out of here. Maybe when we’re done with this job. Maybe never. I don’t know.” Averting her face, she focused on what mattered… putting one foot in front of the other. That was how she’d make it through this.

  If she had to go to Toronto, then damn it, she’d go to Toronto.

  But she sure as hell wasn’t going to strip herself bare about why the thought of it terrified her so. The past was where it belonged. In the past. And it was her past, damn it. The monster who’d made her was dead.

  Yeah, somebody had survived— the mirror was proof of that, but it had nothing to do with her.

  She’d finish the job with Pulaski.

  Then she was gone. Maybe even out of the country gone.

  CHAPTER 21

  H

  E didn’t really want to do this.

  You have to do it, though…

  That quiet little voice had gotten louder over the past few days, and it was time he listened. He just needed to get it done… and go back home.

  The casino’s hotel was a busy one. Located in Detroit, full of people looking to get drunk, get laid, throw away their money in the hopes of winning more, they blended in.

  Not quite as nice as some places, but it would work.

  You can’t be choosy. You need to hurry. This is fine… do it.

  Not yet— not so fast. Not so fast? But…