Shadow Hunt

by L. L. Raand

  You will die if you challenge me.

  I will die either way. And before I do, you will bleed, Hunter.

  Torren thundered forward, the earth opening beneath her feet and flame crawling out toward Sylvan, forcing her to back away from the ring of mounted guards. The Gate was just behind her but Torren’s ring of fire was closing around her. If she leapt through the flames the Gate might already be gone and she would have no chance to fight. She would rather die fighting than burn. She gathered her haunches to spring and stared into Torren’s eyes. Beyond Torren, the guards shimmered in a cloud of smoke.

  The Hound rose up on its hind legs, immense, blocking out the sky and the mounted guards behind her.

  Now! Torren shouted. Jump through the Gate!

  Sylvan whipped around and sailed into the fire. Flames clawed at her throat and her pelt singed. Her lungs filled with smoke and tears blinded her eyes. Ahead in the dark, she heard Drake call.

  Here! We are here!

  Sylvan crashed down on hard-packed earth, panting, her chest on fire. From beyond the Gate came a scream of agony. Sylvan shed pelt and staggered to her feet.

  “Torren,” Misha cried, and raced for the archway.

  “No!” Sylvan grabbed her and dragged her to the ground a few feet from the Gate.

  “Torren!”

  The blackness between the two tall, twisted oaks shimmered and the Hound burst through. She collapsed at Sylvan’s feet, a dozen silver spears ringing her throat.

  Chapter Twenty

  Niki alerted at the sound of approaching footsteps. Hours had passed and nothing had changed—she felt no different. Sophia performed regular temperature checks and declared her well, but she didn’t trust herself. Her body had so easily betrayed her before—the hunger for Vampire blood never left her, even though she no longer craved the sex. Sophia was all she wanted, but the distant whisper promising blessed oblivion remained. She knew it for an enemy and had learned to live with the enemy within. Now perhaps she would carry another foe inside her, one that would be a danger to all she loved. That she could not allow, but there was time yet to decide. With Sophia beside her, she could not help but hope.

  Nadia Revnik stopped in front of the bars, a sheaf of papers in her hand. Beside Niki, Sophia drew a sharp breath. Niki jumped up and moved away from her.

  “What is it?” Niki said.

  Nadia glanced at Sophia and then Niki. “We have the preliminary results from your tests. We’ve isolated the contagion in your serum.”

  “Get out of here,” Niki snarled at Sophia, vaulting to the far side of the cell. Not far enough. “Now.”

  Sophia shook her head, striding to the bars and stretching a hand through to her mother. “Let me see. Her temperature is normal. She shows no symptoms.”

  “That’s why I wanted to see her—see you both. We can’t be sure yet,” Nadia said, handing the reports to Sophia, “but it’s possible the contagion is not active. Or its end-actions are being blocked by something else. We just don’t know.”

  Her back to the cold stone wall, Niki growled, uncertain of what Nadia was saying, but certain that she did not want Sophia anywhere near her if she was likely to turn into anything close to what Angela had been. “Now, will you leave?”

  Sophia spun around, her normally calm pale blue eyes flashing with shards of gold. “I will not. And you will not try to push me away. You chose me, you are mine now.”

  Niki gripped the stone, wanting nothing more than to hold her mate and terrified that her touch might harm. She understood now why Sophia had stayed away from her for so long, experienced the terrible dread that she could hurt the one who mattered more than anyone. The enormity of her love hammered at her to push Sophia away, and yet the memory of the pain of being shut out was so much worse. Sophia was right—Niki had forced the mating, insisted, sworn that no matter what happened, she would face it. Sophia finally believed her, trusted her, accepted her. Now she was refusing to allow Sophia to do the same. She held out her hand. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Some of the fury left Sophia’s eyes and she took Niki’s hand. “I know that. I understand, I do. But I need to be here. If I thought you were a danger to me or to anyone, I would take precautions. But you’re not.” She faced her mother, still gripping Niki’s hand. “I’ll take another sample now and send more every hour. You can monitor the levels. Find out if it’s multiplying.”

  “I was going to suggest the same thing,” Nadia said. “Even if the numbers are rising, it won’t necessarily mean the contagion’s active, but it’s the next logical thing to do.”

  “How long before we know for sure?” Niki asked.

  “A matter of hours.” Nadia hesitated.

  “What?” Niki snapped.

  “A matter of hours if you develop the full-blown syndrome. It’s possible you could have a subclinical infection, or even become a carrier.” Nadia sighed. “I’m sorry, Niki, we need more time. We’ve never dealt with anything quite like this before.”

  “A carrier,” Niki said, glad she was a soldier and not a scientist. “Like Sophia? Healthy, but with some part of it in my blood. That’s what you mean?”

  Nadia smiled. “More or less, yes.”

  Niki glanced at Sophia. “We won’t know for sure until I shift again. And I can’t do that with you in here.”

  “I’m a carrier, and I’ve never shown any signs of abnormality during a shift,” Sophia said. “My wolf is normal.”

  “That’s because there’s nothing wrong with you.”

  Sophia laughed, a sound almost a sob. “You’ve always said that. Now you should listen to me.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Sophia cupped her face and kissed her softly. “I know.”

  Niki wanted more. She ached to wrap her arms around Sophia and bury her face in Sophia’s neck. She wanted to be sheltered and protected. For once in her life, she didn’t want to be strong. But she couldn’t. Not for pride, not even for instinct. For love. Gently, she moved Sophia back. “At least keep some distance between us.”

  “Never,” Sophia murmured. “Let’s get that blood sample.”

  Niki sat while Sophia assembled her equipment again. As Sophia was filling the last tube, a door somewhere clattered and running footsteps approached her cell. Nadia stepped aside and Beryl halted breathless beside her. “Callan received word that a raiding party has crossed into our territory.”

  *

  Gray lay on her stomach on a rocky ledge halfway down a steep slope, watching a deer trail that ran along the shallow, rock-strewn creek. The sun was just coming up over the mountaintop behind her, and the twilight painted everything a soft, shimmering silver. Fog lifted off the water in small puffs of white as if the creek were breathing. The forest slumbered still, the birds not yet awake, the night creatures having already returned to their dens. The brief curtain of time between night and day was utterly silent, the only sound her own heart thudding faintly in her ears. This was her favorite time. The time of the hunter, the moment before the deer broke from cover and started to forage, when the rabbits left their burrows, when the pheasants abandoned their nests in the undergrowth.

  The wolf in her hungered to hunt. The warrior in her wanted to fight. She had taken the last watch, and the night had been long and cold. Her small squad was spread out at twenty-yard intervals, wedged between Mira’s squad somewhere higher up to her left and Jazz’s down to her right. Two of her four, now five with the human, Clint, were asleep. Tamara and Clint had taken the same watch as her. She wondered what they had done over the last six hours while she had lain alone. Her wolf growled impatiently, unhappy with the inactivity. Unhappy that Tamara was out of sight, in the presence of an interested male. Not that it mattered. It couldn’t matter. She wasn’t interested in Tamara, but her belly tightened when she remembered their tangle by the creek. Remembered the feel of Tamara beneath her, above her.

  How would you feel if you were about to submit a
nother Were in the midst of a tangle and all of a sudden you couldn’t bring yourself to do it? When all you could think of was how good it would feel to drag them down on top of you?

  Tamara’s words, her nightmare. She hadn’t been brave enough to admit she knew just what Tamara meant. Tamara was braver than her on every front—she’d been injured in battle, endured captivity, lost her Pack, and still she fought back. Gray hadn’t even been brave enough to admit she wanted Tamara’s claws in her back, her teeth in her flesh. She’d never even thought about what an Omega wanted from a tangle.

  Neither dominant nor submissive, what did that mean? How did Tamara find her way, grow to be so sure and strong? Gray had never questioned her urges—her wants had always been clear, unquestioned, simple. She was a dominant, she’d known it from the time she was old enough to tussle with Packmates, driven by the instinct to keep going until all the others had given up. When she’d gotten old enough to want more than a playful tussle, when she’d wanted the tangle that followed, that urge had been inborn too. Now those urges were entwined in different needs, leaving her confused and unsure. Far less brave than the Were who kept watch a few yards away. If she tried, she might catch Tamara’s scent on the wind.

  Gray grumbled softly and tried to put Tamara and what she might be saying to Clint out of her mind. She couldn’t let herself be distracted, even if the constant level of alertness kept her loins tight and her clitoris tense. Her body seemed to know what it wanted—it was her head that didn’t.

  A vibration in the pocket of her BDUs saved her from more punishing imaginings of Tamara and Clint lying close together under cover, and she pulled out her phone.

  I smell Blackpaw. T

  Gray scanned the trail below and the forest beyond and saw nothing. She lifted her head, sniffed the damp cool air. Scented nothing. Settling her rifle across her back, she crept back from the ledge and, keeping low, cut through the underbrush until she reached the outlook where Tamara and Clint were posted.

  “Do you see anything?” she whispered to Tamara.

  Tamara shook her head. “I caught a scent just a moment ago. Wolf. And more than one.”

  “Are you sure it’s Blackpaw? Maybe it’s Mira’s patrol. They might have moved downwind and you caught their scent.”

  “No, it was Blackpaw. I know their smell.”

  “All right. Watch for them to break cover.” She eyed Clint, who had black camouflage paint under his eyes. He still looked fresh and happy. “If you have a shot, take it.”

  “Roger that.” He grinned, showing straight, white teeth.

  Small teeth. His bite would not be much to worry about. Gray growled softly and Tamara frowned at her.

  “Be careful,” Gray said and backed away. She texted the others in her patrol, then Mira and Jazz, and finally Callan.

  Possible Blackpaw raiders approaching.

  Gunfire broke out off to her right. Jazz’s squad was under attack. She turned to head back to her post and leaves shredded overhead as if plummeted by a heavy rain. She threw herself to the ground a small distance away from Tamara and Clint. “Get down!”

  Bringing her rifle around, she crawled forward on elbows and knees until she could look down on the trail. No one. She checked the creek, saw nothing on the other side, but the fog was dense and her vision was obscured. They could be right on the other side and she would not see them. She raised her head to sight along the crest toward Jazz’s position, and another spatter of gunfire cracked the air. Splintered branches rained down. She called to Tamara. “Can you track where they’re firing from?”

  “Not yet.”

  “When you can, return fire and change position.”

  “I’m better off firing from a fixed location,” Clint said.

  “Not if you’re dead! Follow orders.”

  Tamara said, “We will. Go! You need better cover.”

  Gray ran back to her post. Shouts from Jazz’s position were drowned out by more gunfire. Dropping onto the ledge, she trained her weapon on the trail and searched for a target. The undergrowth was thick, and the raiders were firing from behind the cover of trees. She saw muzzle flash and fired in that direction. As soon as she did, she rolled to her right and took cover behind another tree. Bullets peppered the ledge where she’d just been.

  From her left, she heard a steady string of measured shots. The human was firing. She tried to check Tamara’s location, but more rapid fire from assault rifles scoured the earth and underbrush in front of her. They were blindly raking the hillside, hoping to hit the Timberwolves in the barrage.

  She texted her team.

  Take rocky cover.

  All of her squad was firing now in the direction from which the raiders were shooting. Still no clear targets. Her team had the high ground.

  Fire in quadrants to your front. Go.

  She sprayed the trees downslope from her, rolling behind rocky outcroppings after each short burst. The Blackpaws returned fire every few seconds. Their force appeared to be concentrated just at the bend of the trail. She focused her next salvo there. Someone close by on her right cried out. Someone was hit. One of her squad? Jazz’s? Tamara?

  Gray waited for a break in the gunfire and jumped to another rocky outcropping. Immediately the air was filled with bullets. She waited again, jumped again. A minute later she found Acer, one of Jazz’s recruits, writhing in a pool of blood, both hands clutching his thigh. She quickly pulled a tourniquet from her pocket and wrapped it around his leg. “Come on, grab onto my belt.”

  “I’ll drag you down.”

  “No, you won’t. We need to get out of the line of fire.” She grabbed him around the waist. “Do it.”

  He pushed with his good leg while she tugged him up the hill toward a cluster of boulders where he would be shielded. The firing seemed to be lessening, but she wasn’t sure who had the upper hand. If the Blackpaws overran their lines, Acer would be helpless. She couldn’t let him be taken captive or executed. She pushed him behind the rocks, and he fell heavily on his uninjured side. Blood still seeped from the wound.

  Quickly, she texted Tamara. Have wounded. You in charge. Retreat to Compound if needed.

  She turned to brace her weapon on the largest boulder and the firing started again. They’d seen her. Rock chips flew into the air, grazing her face and neck. She blinked away blood and sighted down the escarpment. A shadow flickered between the trees, and she fired. A hammer blow struck her shoulder and she flew backward. She landed hard on her back, her rifle flying from her hands. A stream of fire scorched down her arm. She’d been hit. She clamped a hand to her shoulder and blood seeped through her fingers. Pushing with her legs, she crowded closer to Acer, shielding him as best she could.

  She wasn’t sure how long she lay there as the gunfire slowly ceased. Her vision was dimming even as the sky brightened. From below her, rocks grated and rolled downslope. Someone was coming. She scented the air and smelled only gun smoke and blood. With her good arm she fumbled for her weapon. Gone. Then a shadow fell over her face and a figure loomed above her, blocking out the rising sun.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Veronica checked the digital readout in the lower right corner of her screen again. She’d never before cared about the passage of minutes and hours. Time was an inconsequential abstraction—the only measurements that motivated her were the data scrolling down the screen, the only yardstick by which she measured success. She’d certainly never given a second’s thought to the precise time of sunrise. Now her life was marked by the rising and setting of the sun, almost as rigidly circumscribed as Luce’s existence. Dawn meant Luce would disappear into the depths of the lair with Francesca, to do what Veronica could only imagine, and envy. Feed, fuck, rest? No matter the answer, Luce would leave her to toss and turn restlessly, her body hungering for release until sunfall, when Luce would emerge from her protected shelter and seek her out to feed. Time was now her keeper, and she was late.

  She’d taken longer than she’d intended rev
iewing the data that had been acquired while she was away. Her focus had been off at first, but when she’d settled into her familiar mental landscape, she’d lost herself in the planning and the projections and the pleasure of imagining a world where humans ruled without needing to worry about who might be hiding undercover among them. Of course, her thinking had changed recently. She no longer envisioned a future with only humans, but one inhabited by their carefully selected Vampire collaborators. Humans of course would always be in the dominant position, due not only to their superior numbers but by virtue of their greater intellect. Humans had learned very early to take pleasure from the other species that shared the planet, most often as food, and now, in a more primal form of pleasure. The urgency to experience that pleasure again soon made her tremble. Only one more thing to do before she could find Luce and they could return to the lair before full daylight. When Luce would want to feed.

  Veronica dialed the number and waited.

  “Who is this?” Nicholas asked, sounding as if he’d been awake and expecting a call he didn’t want to take.

  “Who else would it be, darling?” Veronica said. “Do you give this number to many people?”

  “No one has this number except you,” he said, “but I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon after—well, so soon.”

  “Really? And did you think I was going to let the work stop just because Sylvan Mir managed a minor victory?”

  Nicholas scoffed. “I wouldn’t call it minor. She’s unseated Francesca and thrown her support to the Regent who’s taken her place.”

  “A temporary setback at best. Surely you haven’t lost faith in Francesca?”

  “Of course not,” he said quickly.

  “Good, because I’m ready to get back to work, and I need a full complement of technicians to do that.” She’d been relegated to making do with a skeleton staff while the lab was being rebuilt, but now that she’d acquired the right specimens she was ready to return to full power.