Warrior Untamed

by Shannon Curtis

  Lance, wearing a pair of jeans and no shirt or shoes, advanced toward him, a dark murderous glint in his eye.

  Chapter 12

  Melissa ducked under Lexi’s arm and brought her elbow up to smash into the woman’s back. Lexi screamed in pain and rage as she fell forward against the sink. Melissa grabbed the frying pan that hung from a hook on a frame above the stove and whirled, using it as a shield. Her eyes widened when she heard the scrape of metal on metal, felt the force as Lexi’s blade hit the back of the pan that she held in front of her face.

  She heard a bellow from the hallway, followed by a crash, and then Hunter skidded into the room again, his face bruised, his arm raised and fury in his gaze. She saw the fireball flare in his hand, and her stomach lurched as she recognized his intent.

  “No,” she yelled in protest. She held one hand up in defense, then used the pan like a tennis racket and swung it at Lexi’s head. She flinched at the clunk it made when it caught the woman on the upper jaw, and Lexi’s head whipped around, smacking into the fridge door. She fell, unconscious, to the floor, collapsing among the broken shards of crockery and strewed cutlery. Melissa hurriedly used a tea towel to put the small fire on the top of the kitchen table out, smoke and scorched wood permeating the air.

  Hunter frowned fiercely at her. “Why did you—”

  A large body crashed against his, and suddenly the doorway was empty as Lance tackled him. They crashed toward the living room.

  “No,” Melissa yelled, skirting around the inert Lexi, kicking the blade away under the table and hurtling out of the kitchen. She winced as Lance punched Hunter in the stomach with a force that had the light warrior doubling over in pain.

  Hunter glared at the dhampir, anger flaring, and Melissa saw the fireball leave Hunter’s hands and launch toward her friend. She flung her arm out, muttering a dampening spell that turned the fireball into a puff of smoke.

  “Don’t,” she cried as Lance strode toward Hunter. She sprang in between the two men, arms out. To their credit, both men halted immediately.

  “He was going to attack Lexi,” Lance gritted.

  “He saved your life,” she snapped, and Lance halted, frowning.

  “She was going to kill you,” Hunter grated, gesturing toward the kitchen.

  “I’m going to kill you,” snarled Lance, stepping closer.

  “Oh, bring it on, bigfoot,” Hunter challenged, beckoning him with one hand. Lance took another step, and Melissa found herself wedged between two very big, powerful and angry men.

  Lance’s eyes widened. “Is that—is that my shirt?”

  Hunter’s shirt was ripped open, revealing his toned chest and washboard abs. Not that now was the time to notice his toned chest and washboard abs.

  “Stop it, both of you,” Melissa said through gritted teeth. She pointed a finger at Lance. “You need to bring it down a notch.” She used her other hand to point at Hunter. “And you need to stop trying to set everyone on fire.”

  She swallowed, then nodded, finally acknowledging Hunter’s point, her heart still racing at the threat. “She’s under a compulsion,” she told him. “Lance is protecting his sister, Hunter.” She turned to Lance.

  “Hunter was just—” She blinked, still trying to process it. “He was looking out for me.” She turned her gaze to Hunter, and he glared at her with an intensity that revealed something she wasn’t sure she could identify properly, as her instinct didn’t make sense. But she wasn’t going to query it. She dropped her gaze but gave a little nod. He’d saved her life yet again.

  “Someone better tell me what the hell is going on. Now,” Lance demanded.

  “Why don’t we secure psycho sis first,” Hunter suggested. “Then we can catch you up over tea and scones.”

  Lance narrowed his eyes, and Melissa turned to him, bracing her hands against Lance’s chest. “He’s got a point. For some reason, Lexi feels compelled to kill me. When she comes to, she’ll start again, and none of us want to see her hurt. At least, not more than she is already.”

  “Let me at her,” Hunter said, and she felt his sigh against the back of her neck. His anger had cooled.

  Lance shook his head. “That’s not going to happen,” he muttered.

  “No, wait,” Melissa said, then turned to face Hunter, curious. “What are you suggesting?”

  He was standing so close she could feel his breath against her collarbone. His brown eyes were dark with turmoil, and she couldn’t quite get a read on his emotions.

  “While she’s unconscious I might be able to do a scan, maybe even break the compulsion.”

  Melissa gaped for a moment. “You can do that?” she breathed. To her knowledge, a compulsion could only be broken by the one who set it, or by their death. To learn that there was possibly another option was like finding an undiscovered loophole in the laws of nature. Exciting and frightening at the same time.

  Hunter shrugged. “It’s possible,” he admitted. “It depends on how deep the compulsion goes.”

  “I’m not letting this fire-freak anywhere near my sister,” Lance stated, folding his arms, and Melissa placed her hand on his arm.

  “He’s not just a fire-freak.” She ignored the exasperated sigh of the man behind her as she gazed up at her friend. “This man saved your life, as a favor to me, and to your sister. If he thinks he can help Lexi, I’d suggest you let him try,” she told him softly. “I don’t want to hurt Lexi, Lance, but if she comes at me again, I’ll be forced to defend myself.”

  “Trust me,” Hunter said, “I’m a doctor.” Melissa could hear the sarcasm in his tone, just as she knew Lance could.

  The muscle in Lance’s jaw flexed, and his gaze shifted between her and Hunter. Her friend’s green eyes narrowed. “Are you vouching for him, Mel?” The question was loaded with meaning, and it took Melissa a moment to digest it. Did she trust Hunter? That’s what Lance was asking. Did she trust the light warrior enough to place another friend’s life in his hands?

  Finally, she nodded. “Yes, I’m vouching for him.”

  Lance stared at her for a long moment, before dipping his head. “Fine. Do it.” Hunter stepped toward the kitchen, and Lance reached to grab his arm. “But if you hurt her...” His expression turned hard and threatening. Hunter flashed him a tight smile.

  “I saved you, didn’t I?” He shook his arm free and stalked into the kitchen. He scooped up Lexi’s unconscious form and carried her out to the living room, placing her gently on the sofa. Melissa and Lance followed closely.

  “Why don’t you tell me exactly what the hell has been going on here?” Lance asked Melissa in a low voice. “Who the hell is this guy?”

  * * *

  Hunter ignored Lance and Melissa’s conversation, although he didn’t completely push them from his mind. Largely because he didn’t trust the Paul Bunyan wannabe. The guy was massive, and Hunter’s ribs still ached from their encounter—he’d felt one crack, but he was healing fast.

  He knelt at Lexi’s head and gently rested his fingers against her temples. He still struggled with the homicidal vision of her in the kitchen. She’d borne very little resemblance to the woman who’d brought him bacon and eggs, and who had teased him as he’d prepared breakfast in the room she’d just turned into a battleground.

  She’d threatened Melissa.

  He closed his eyes, summoning his light force to enter her mind. He winced as he noticed her concussion, and he siphoned some energy off to heal her, reducing the swelling as he also delved into her mind.

  He didn’t dreamwalk—didn’t trust Lance enough to slide into unconsciousness anywhere near the dhampir, but instead checked for previous assaults on Lexi’s mind. He found plenty, and his lips tightened as he realized how vulnerable the young woman had been. He saw clumsy strokes of coercion with the unmistakable taint of a vampire, b
ut they were aged, and though not completely severed, there was a definite weakening... He angled his head, feeling something warm and protective there. He didn’t know why, but Melissa immediately sprang to mind. Had she tried to protect Lexi?

  Normally he didn’t worry himself too much with this kind of attack on a patient. He dulled trauma, if need be, but it was mainly the physicality of a body that he concerned himself with, believing that if a person exposed themselves willingly or not to psychic attack, then they should deal with the consequences. He had no issue with implanting suggestions. He did it with patients trying to kick addictions or lose weight all the time. Okay, so he may have dabbled once or twice with nonmedical stuff, but that was purely for amusement’s sake to see people do things they wouldn’t normally do.

  Having seen the consequences of downright forceful manipulation firsthand, though, in a woman who had done nothing to deserve the removal of her free will... For the first time, Hunter was annoyed. He severed the coercions easily enough. It was a darker lock on her mind that concerned him. He skirted around the edges, impressed despite himself at the finesse of the block. Someone had implanted a series of suggestions in Lexi’s mind with great skill. Every time he tried to unlock it, another barrier revealed itself. His brows pulled together. He hadn’t seen this level of artistry since... He stilled.

  No. He denied it immediately. It couldn’t be. And yet, there was only one person’s persuasion that had ever really fooled him, only one person’s prowess that he was unable to break.

  He opened his eyes, withdrawing his touch from Lexi’s temples.

  “Well?” Melissa asked softly. He looked up. Melissa and Lance stood behind the sofa, leaning on the backrest with arms folded, looking down at him expectantly.

  “I’ve gotten rid of the lame attempts from some vampire to control her, but there is something in there...it’s so deeply buried that if I try to destroy it, I’ll hurt Lexi. Badly.” He reached for the remote control on the coffee table and turned up the volume, then flicked through the channels.

  “I hardly think this is the time for watching TV,” Melissa commented, frowning, but he shook his head, stopping when he found a twenty-four-hour news station.

  “I can only think of one person capable of this kind of compulsion,” he said absently, reading the newsfeed scrolling across the bottom of the screen. There had been something about...

  He sucked in his breath when he saw the headline. “Son of a bitch.”

  In moments the news anchor announced the story. “In further news, authorities have identified the escaped inmate from the Oodvark maximum security prison as Arthur Armstrong, currently awaiting trial for conspiracy to murder Alpha Prime Jared Gray. Armstrong killed a female security guard during his escape, and is considered armed and dangerous. Authorities are warning the public not to approach this man if sighted, and to call Reform Authority.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Melissa breathed. Hunter rose from the floor and crossed to the window. He placed a finger against the curtain and slowly, gently, pulled back the fabric to peer out.

  It was late afternoon, and already the gloom was setting in. The snow was turning to gray slush on the ground. A movement across the street caught his eye. Someone stood in a doorway, flicking ash from a cigarette. Hunter angled his head. A guy who looked like he’d slept in the clothes he wore for a good few months leaned against a shop window farther down, and a couple of men lurked up toward the other end of the street. Even as he watched, he could see a group of men approaching from about three blocks away.

  “We have company,” he muttered.

  Lance went up to the other living room window and peeked out. “Werewolves.”

  Hunter nodded. “I don’t see any vamps.”

  “It’s still daylight,” Lance murmured. “Besides, they’re not going to come out with this many lycans about. One bite and they’d be dead.”

  “What’s going on?” Melissa asked, coming up behind Hunter.

  He turned to eye her. “Either you’ve pissed off a great many lycans, and—” He held up a hand, saying, “I’ll give credit where it’s due, I think you’re totally capable of doing it, or someone is compelling an awful lot of folks to marshal an attack.”

  Melissa frowned. This close, he could smell her, feel her warmth, her body so close to but not touching his. He frowned when he noticed the bloodstain on her shirt. She’d been cut. He reached out, clasping her arm gently, and sent a warm tendril of light from beneath his palm to gently heal the wound. Melissa gasped, glancing down at her arm, then up at him. He winked, then turned to stare out the window again.

  After a moment, Melissa stepped closer to peer over his shoulder, then shrugged. “They can marshal all they want, but my place is a fang-free zone, current company excepted,” she said, indicating Lance. Hunter’s gaze flicked over to the hulking giant. What was so damn special about this guy that he got a special hall pass from a witch with a fang phobia? Was there something more than just friendship between them? He wasn’t sure. They didn’t seem amorously inclined, but she had been able to stay the big guy, just with a frown and wagging finger.

  “What about tomorrow?” Hunter asked quietly. “Will you open your shop?”

  Melissa lifted her chin in that challenging, stubborn, try-me gesture he was beginning to recognize. “They’re not going to run me out of business. They’ve tried many times, and they’ll try more, but they won’t succeed. We’re not even sure who they are.”

  Hunter rolled his eyes. “Save the pep talk for someone who will swallow that crud,” he told her. “Have you ever been under siege? What about your customers?” He pointed to Lexi. “She doesn’t have fangs, and she damn near made a pincushion out of you.” He folded his arms. “And I think you and I both know who is behind this.”

  Melissa mimicked his stance, folding her arms. He decided this was his favorite position for her, when her arms pushed her breasts up like an offering. A movement caught his eye, and he dragged his gaze up from Melissa’s chest to Lance, who glared at him with narrowed eyes. Lance shook his head ever so slightly, as though in warning.

  Hunter smiled. He rarely did as he was told.

  “What would your father have against me?” Melissa asked, oblivious to the exchange.

  Hunter looked back at her, his brow dipping. “Seriously? Maybe the fact that you and some other witch used your powers to help my brother and me battle our father, which ultimately led to his arrest and incarceration? Or maybe the fact that you kept his son chained to a wall?” He shrugged. “Or maybe he has a thing against gingers, who knows? My father isn’t exactly on an even keel, if you get my drift.”

  “Like father, like son,” Melissa muttered.

  Hunter wheezed a chuckle. “Like your family is perfect. Pot, meet kettle.” He’d seen enough in her dreams of the interaction between her and her mother to know she could also boast of a dysfunctional pedigree.

  Lance sighed brusquely. “Well, this is all very entertaining, but what do we do?”

  Hunter glanced over at Lexi. She was still unconscious, but her color was good, and she’d probably come to, minus the concussion, within the next half hour or so. “I can’t get rid of that compulsion, which means she’ll come after Melissa again when she wakes. You need to get her out of here.”

  Lance shook his head. “I’m not leaving Melissa defenseless against a pack of wolves.”

  “She won’t be defenseless—I’ll be here. The wolves can’t breach Melissa’s barriers. At the moment, they’re just waiting for her to come out. If she stays inside, she’s safe.”

  “Not until tomorrow, when any compelled human can come after her,” Lance pointed out.

  Hunter nodded. “True. So I will call my brother, and he’ll come down and help me get rid of them.”

  Melissa frowned. “I thought your brother was just
a dentist?”

  “He is, but I don’t know anyone who has teeth who isn’t afraid of a dentist.”

  Lance put his fists on his hips. “How are the two of you going to get rid of a pack of wolves?”

  “Let’s just say my brother and I have a special set of skills,” Hunter stated calmly, and brought forth two small fireballs dancing on his palms. He rolled his palm, and the fireball rolled with it, until he gave a flick of his fingers and the fireball disappeared.

  Lance frowned. “What the hell are you?”

  “Hot stuff,” Hunter answered, grinning. Melissa rolled her eyes, then turned to Lance.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not defenseless, either. We’ll be fine, but they’re here for me, not you or Lexi. You need to get her out of here before she wakes up and becomes part of the problem.”

  Lance glanced between his sister and his friend, and Hunter felt a little sympathy for him. Not much, but a little. He could relate—as much as anyone could relate to a giant, blond dhampir who sucked on vamps yet was afraid of what would happen when his kid sister woke up.

  Melissa rested her hand on Lance’s arm, and Hunter eyed the movement closely. Neither had an issue with personal space, he noticed. “I’ll be fine, Lance. You know me. You know I can take care of myself.”

  Lance sighed, then nodded. “Fine.”

  Melissa smiled. “Good. I’d suggest going up to the roof. There’s a ladder up there we use to stretch across the ally for roof parties with the neighbors.” She started to walk toward the hallway. Lance turned to face Hunter, his expression harsh.

  “If she gets hurt or killed,” he began, his voice soft with menace.

  Hunter held up a hand. “Let me guess. If Melissa gets hurt or dies, you’re going to kill me.” He sighed. “You and Melissa need a new playbook.”

  Lance leaned forward. “What about this one? Mess with Melissa, and you mess with me.”

  Hunter rolled his eyes. “I get it.” He almost told Lance he was renowned for his messes, but didn’t think the big guy shared his sense of humor.