The Jaded Hunter

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “Ask,” his breath urged, causing gooseflesh to sprinkle on her chest.

  Jaden caught herself, knowing those were words she could never utter. She would never beg a vampire into her bed. He was the enemy.

  “I’m cold,” she whispered with a stiff jerk of her head. Her eyes closed briefly and she swallowed.

  Tyr’s gaze rose to her in surprise, as if he didn’t think she would ask him.

  Jaden bit her lip, before saying, “Could you hand me a towel so I can get dressed?”

  Tyr’s face became a hard mask, blocking all emotion from her. With a tense nod, he smiled through his tightly pressed lips. Tyr strode past the towel, not handing it to her. Instead, he went to the corner of the room. Picking up her duffel bag, he dropped it on the bed. “I brought this along. I saw Rick going through it and knew it was yours.”

  Jaden paled. Her eyes darted to the bag. The way it landed, she could tell the papers were still in there. Had Tyr looked inside? Had he seen the papers tucked within the hollowed out book? Eyeing him carefully, she nodded. By the impassive look on his face, it was hard to tell if he knew what was hiding inside.

  Observing her with a disinterested look, Tyr disappeared in a blink. Jaden gasped, holding her breath as she looked around the room. He was gone. With shaking fingers, she carefully rinsed the drying soap from her tingling body before stepping gingerly from the tepid water. Wrapping the linen around her still sensitive skin, she tiptoed over to peek into the living room. Tyr was nowhere to be seen.

  Jaden couldn’t stop trembling as she pulled her bag from the bed. Pressing it to her chest, she hauled it into the prison. She dressed hastily, pulling on the clothes with a haphazard grace. Then, hair still clinging to her back from inside her shirt, she pulled out the book from the bottom. The latch was still caught, but that didn’t mean anything. The papers weren’t as neatly stacked, but they could’ve been jostled in travel. Jaden shivered, putting the little note describing Tyr into her pocket. Maybe he couldn’t even read French, but there was one way of finding out.

  Concealing the book beneath her clothes, she shoved the bag into the dark corner. If Tyr hadn’t seen the documents, she would make sure it stayed that way. She wouldn’t condemn Mack to the vampire council’s judgment. For a moment, she considered burning the documents in the bedroom fireplace. But something stopped her. She had to know the truth for herself. And somehow, some way, she had to find a way to escape the prison Tyr kept her in.

  Chapter Eight

  The fire rustled pleasantly before the stone couch. Surprisingly, Jaden found the cushions provided ample padding to the stone and she was induced to snuggle into their depths. She rested her head on a thick pillow, hugging another to her stomach as she leaned halfway over and awaited Tyr’s return. It did occur to her she could try to escape, despite his warning of getting lost, but she knew Tyr would never have left her if escape was possible.

  Even if she did manage to find her way from the cave, she had no idea where she was. She could be in a crypt below some mausoleum in New York, or she could be in the middle of Arkansas in Ozark country. One phone call and she could ask Mack to come and get her. But she wasn’t ready to call her uncle, not until she figured out what was in the file.

  Part of her tried to admit she stayed because she was drawn to Tyr. She hated the small voice and squelched it instantly before it could give birth to other ideas. Even though her mind knew it was for the best, her body stung with resentment at being so thoroughly aroused and then neglected. When the pleasure had faded, she would only hate herself for being weak. Tyr could feel nothing for her. She detected the void of his emotions within him and never had the curse of her gifts been such a burden. To know he could never prefer her over another, that he could never care for her, pricked irritatingly at her insides. But it made it easier too. She knew not to expect anything from him.

  “I am a job,” she reminded herself. “And I have a job to do.”

  When had her job become secondary? She must have been cooped in his home longer than she thought. She needed to get out. The tomblike walls of the cavern beat into her, blocking out all outside conflict and allowing her to focus within. With sudden insight, she sat up. That was it. She couldn’t feel anyone else but herself and Tyr. And reading Tyr’s emotions was like communicating with a rock. He was empty.

  It was the first time in her life she couldn’t sense outside herself and she wasn’t sure she was ready to go where her emotions led her. The walls of the cave pressed in on her senses. The stone was too quiet, the fire becoming too loud.

  “I have to get out of here,” she whispered, rising to her feet. She panicked. Her senses reeled, desperate to pick up something other than herself. Her eyes darted around to the brown door. Warning or not, she had to try. Why was she hesitating? Where had all her fight gone? The question was answered with a bored voice.

  “Where are you going?”

  Tyr moved so stealthily she hadn’t known he was there. Chills racked her spine as she spun around. He was behind her. The panic subsided the moment she saw his calming eyes.

  “How long have you been standing there?” she asked, trying to remember what she’d muttered under her breath. She really needed to stop talking aloud to herself. It was bad enough Tyr read most of her thoughts anyway, without her saying them aloud for him.

  “Why?” His face showed no strain of their previous encounter. His eyes were as clear as a summer sky but with none of the gentle promises. When she didn’t answer, only stared, he asked, “Why? Did you miss me, princess?”

  Jaden groaned, rolling her eyes. She refused to answer his baiting. Ruefully, she met his jeering expression with one of her own. Her words dripped wryly out of her mouth. “No, I just wondered how many hapless New Yorkers you managed to kill.”

  Her eyes searched his, waiting and hoping for him to slip and tell her where she was. Tyr leaned over to press his face towards hers. She hoped he might kiss her, but instead his lip curled.

  “That would be difficult,” he said lowly, “even for me.”

  “Then…?” she prompted discreetly. She hid her eyes beneath her dark lashes.

  “If you want to know, Miss MacNaughton, ask.” Tyr moved away, sitting easily on his chair before the fire. Leaning back in repose, he watched her expectantly. His fingers steepled, tapered fingernails meeting beneath his chin. Jaden met the challenge in his gaze. Would he never give her an inch?

  “Fine,” she seethed, sitting back down to face him. “Where are we? And for god’s sake quit calling me Miss MacNaughton. It’s very annoying.”

  “All right, princess.” He shot her a charmingly arrogant grin. His voice was so seductive and soft, low and erotic. Jaden knew he was using the pet name to aggravate her. It did a good job of that, as was evident by the chill of pleasure that worked its way up her spine.

  “So?” she hissed, distracted, shaken that she could feel him as if he were pressed against her.

  “We are in my homeland.” Tyr watched her face.

  His eyes didn’t seem as cold as before. Maybe he found peace from the raging feelings of others in his home. Jaden only found insecurity. It was hard to be left alone with herself after a lifetime of other people.

  “Homeland?” Jaden repeated in sudden weariness. Her wide eyes looked around her as if the stone walls could answer her. “I don’t understand. Are you trying to make a joke? You mean in a grave?”

  “It’s called Norway now,” he said with a smirk, amused by the look on her beautifully puzzled face.

  “Norway? As in the country Norway?”

  “Mmm.”

  “But how? Th-that isn’t possible. I-I...”

  “You what?” he prompted, helping her along.

  “I-I…”

  “Oh, you mean your lover only drugged you once and you don’t remember the journey over here.” He looked thoughtfully at his hand,

  “Yes,” Jaden frowned at his offhanded reference to Rick. “You couldn’t have gott
en me here in one night.”

  “You’re right,” he said, undaunted by her growing anger beneath the surface of confusion. “I didn’t. But I did keep you locked in your drugged state, so to speak, until we did arrive—a little over a week later. Do you not remember lying with me in my coffin, eating fruit from my hand?”

  “I’ve been gone for nearly two weeks?” She didn’t dare think of the erotic images he put into her head with that last remark. She closed her eyes briefly. “Are you mad, vampire? My uncle will be searching for me. He will find you. Two weeks?”

  “Nearly mad,” he chuckled, leaning his temple on his fingers. His eyes glanced so quickly over her that she barely saw them move. “No, princess, you’ve been gone for well over two weeks.”

  “What?” Jaden shook her head. Holding out her fingers, she began adding days on her fingers in an exaggerated manner for his benefit. “Check your math, immortal. One week to get here, four days in pr—”

  “Eight,” he inserted coolly for her, “not counting tonight.”

  Jaden launched to her feet in anger. Placing her hands on her hips, she glared, “You kept me locked up in that prison for eight days?”

  Not to be outdone, Tyr stood, towering over her to his full height. The suddenness of it caused Jaden to step back so she didn’t ram into his rock-hard chest.

  “Now, princess,” he tried to soothe.

  “Argh,” she yelled, shaking her fists in fury. “Quit calling me princess!”

  “All right, sweetheart.” He moved as if to touch her face. She jerked back from him and he let the hand drop. His eyes bore mischievously into hers.

  “No.”

  “Sweetling?”

  “No.”

  “Darling?”

  “No!”

  “Baby?”

  “No!”

  “Ma chère,” he whispered with a cocky half smile forming his mouth. He thoroughly enjoyed her anger.

  “No, no, no,” she shrieked. “I am not your girlfriend or your lover or your anything. I am your hostage. Treat me as such!”

  Tyr met the contempt in her gaze. Lowering his jaw, he leaned forward. His eyes glittered dangerously. His lips parted, revealing his fang points. Jaden took an involuntary step back and then another. Tyr was fast behind her, pursuing her on feet that glided more than walked.

  “Shall I show you, Jaden,” he questioned on a low growl, her name sounding more intimate than his other half-hearted endearments. “Shall I show you how I was raised in my human days to treat female prisoners? Men were not like you know now. We took what we wanted without consequence. We conquered nations, villages and even women. Would you like me to show it to you, Jaden? Would you like to be conquered?”

  “You’re not a man,” she said weakly. “You’re a vampire.”

  “Ah, but I’m a Dark Knight,” he whispered. His low words were a dangerously seductive call to her very core. She trembled violently with need. “And I still know all my lessons. My warrior instincts have been honed and trained over the last thousand years. Is that what you want? You want me to show you the nature of the beast, the nightstalker, the undead Nordic warrior?”

  Jaden shivered at the very notion, not completely averse to its implications. But the obscurity in his gaze stopped her from answering. Coming to the end of the couch, she spun around, intent on fleeing. Tyr caught her before she even reached his bedroom door. His hands twined around her elbows in a forceful grip, holding her steady.

  His words rasped low and hot and sharp along the back of her ear. “Why are you running, prisoner? Isn’t this what you wanted? I offer you civility and you scoff at it. So should I grant you your wish, Jade? Should I act like the beast you insist on thinking me?”

  “Please,” she begged softly, frightened and aroused by his power. She hated being out of control. Even with Rick things happened when and how she wanted them to. No man ever had the strength or the skill to overpower her. But this vampire behind her held the demonic power of a devil and the heart-stabbing physique to back it up. His soft but firm grip held her and she found the nature of that very gentleness impossible to fight.

  “Please?” he repeated softly, turning her word from a plea to a seductive whimper. His breath caressed the back of her ear.

  Jaden stiffened. He pulled her against his chest. She felt the fiery length of him pressed along her back. His hands were warm as if he’d just fed. When she pulled away, he stepped forward, forcing her into the stone of the wall. Her breasts met with rock, flattening as her cheek was forced to turn to the side.

  Tyr pulled her elbow, arching her back, pressing her breasts hard into the wall, forcing her bottom into his arousal. He let her feel what she did to him, rubbing his length to her backside in an even stroke. Jaden’s breath shuddered from her mouth as he mimicked another slow thrust. His wide open lips hissed by her ear.

  Tyr leaned forward, letting his mouth settle by the pulse in her throat. Taking his tongue, he lapped over her skin. Her pulse sped beneath his wet caresses. Grazing his sharpened teeth over her skin, he didn’t harm her, but showed her how much he could hurt her. He let her feel his strength, his power, his complete control over the situation.

  “Say it again, Jade. Say please. Ask me to do it.” Before she could answer, Tyr spun her around.

  Jaden gasped at the sudden release, only to be caught and steadied by his embrace. Everything became a dim haze as her vision sought only him. He leaned over her, not touching except for the exploring of his little finger trailing from beneath her chin down her throat in slow circles. His free hand pressed to the wall behind her head, trapping her within his reach.

  Jaden couldn’t speak. The impression of his need still burned into her buttocks. Her gaze drifted to his chest, afraid to lift to his eyes. She couldn’t chance meeting his gaze. If his voice and his touch evoked such longing, his eyes would be the kiss of death to her composure.

  His mouth came forward gently. Her eyes fluttered closed, anticipating his touch. His tongue darted to trace the seam between her lips without deepening the gesture into a kiss. Jaden felt her knees weaken. Her hands wrestled with the air, clenching and unclenching as she tried to remain calm. Finally, she found a secure anchor in the thin sweater covering his waist.

  “Ask,” he whispered, urging her to answer him. His lips brushed her tenderly with the word. His mouth captured her breath.

  “I—I can’t.” She turned her face away. If he touched her, tried to force her as he claimed he might, she would succumb to him—willingly. Her body screamed for fulfillment. Her lips pulsed, swollen as if she had been kissed hard and long. Tyr drew back, his eyes glinting with sadness at her refusal, but the emotion was gone before Jaden could focus her thoughts enough to study him.

  Seeing his face, his painful withdrawal, Jaden realized he couldn’t force her. For all his power and natural primal instincts, he couldn’t ravish her. It wasn’t in him. Straightening, he said, “Sit down. I have no need for a standoffish mortal in my bed when I can seek out a willing one with ease.”

  The jibe was like a well-placed smack across her face. Jaden took a slow breath, waiting until he was once again seated before following. Taking her place far away from him, she turned. Nervously, she waited for him to speak.

  Tyr’s eyes stared blindly into the fire, seeming to get lost in time. She watched the orange glow bathing his pale skin, reflecting off the deep dark blond of his head. Her eyes measured the width of the black turtleneck, detecting folds of muscles in the chest. And beneath the sleeves, she was held breathless by the size of his large arms—arms that could crush a person into the ground, arms that could wrap around a body and hold it tight, arms that could control.

  Jaden shivered, tearing her gaze away to the safety of the flames. Her body raged with emotion. She hated the baseness of her passion, the persistence of her hunger.

  After some time passed, each gathering their wits to continue the game of deceit set before them, Tyr deemed himself ready to speak. �
�What did you learn of your uncle?”

  “Am I on trial now?” Her eyes snapped to his. She looked for any sign of what had transpired between them. There was nothing. He looked completely unaffected by her. “It hardly seems fair. I have yet to be charged.”

  “Your uncle has secrets.”

  “Everyone has secrets. It isn’t a crime. And I have none I wish to tell you.”

  Tyr allowed a rueful smile. He had to give it to her. She was strong and she fought him relentlessly at every turn. However, it would be easier for him if she just told him what he needed to know. Fighting the barriers in her mind would be very draining.

  “It seems we are at an impasse,” he said.

  “Then let me go. Let me just walk out of here.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why? The council?” she asked, frightened by the prospect.

  “Yes, among other things. This place is in the middle of the Jotunheimen mountain range, the Norwegian wilderness. We are twenty miles from the nearest town. Beyond this cave, even though it is still summer, there is the snow, unexpected fog so dense you can’t see your hand, and rain. And if you don’t freeze, you may just get lost long enough in the wilderness to starve.”

  “Then take me to a city,” she pleaded. “Any city. I can disappear from there. You’ll have no reason to come for me again.”

  “I cannot. The long summer daylight makes this an effective prison for my kind. The dawn and dusk peek out from the heavens all night around.”

  “But, you’re here now,” she said, not trusting his words. “Can’t you go out at night? And where is your coffin? You must go somewhere to sleep.”

  “I sleep on the bed. This place has been consecrated as a tomb so I may rest at leisure. As to the Norwegian nights, I am so old I have built a tolerance to the dusk and dawn when the sun has yet to show. Though it is draining, I can survive. And these tunnels lead all through the mountains.”