Hunted

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “Yep.” Conn straightened, running along the top and arriving at a skylight. What kind of arrogant moron kept a skylight in a house holding hostages? “This guy isn’t expecting us. Must be planning to move the women fast.” No need for stealth. The world was lighting up with fire behind him. Jumping up, he smashed his feet into the glass, falling through to the room below.

  He landed in a crouch ... in a master bathroom. The plush carpet was an emerald green matching his mate’s pretty eyes. The reminder of her made his fangs lengthen, his body vibrate as the animal wanted loose. The animal needed to protect and defend his mate. Quiet surrounded him.

  Talen dropped down, scanning the area. “Dage wants him alive.” Angry and annoyed, his tone came out through obvious fangs.

  Conn rose, grabbing his gun from his waistband. “What are the chances of that?”

  “Zero.” Talen kicked open the door. “Where is everybody?”

  The moron really hadn’t expected them. “The guards are outside fighting ... Trevan must have an escape route. We need to hurry.” The visible heat signatures had held bulk as well as weapons, so the women must be underground. If they were still there. Dread and fear set up in Conn’s gut, and he ruthlessly shoved them aside.

  Priceless watercolors lined the hallway, reminding Conn of his mother’s fanciest parlor. He swept side to side with his gun, hurrying toward the stairs and running down to a sprawling living area with a huge stone fireplace. Explosions echoed in the distance.

  He turned the corner, heading down another set of stairs to a playroom with pool tables, arcade games, and a bar. A warning tickled at the base of his neck. “Back.”

  Talen whipped back around the corner just as gunfire erupted. Watercolors exploded, pieces of glass shattering. Dropping to his knees, Conn emerged from safety, firing toward the bar. Talen followed suit, aiming at the men behind the pool tables. One shrieked in pain.

  Conn’s bullets aimed true, taking out two men with glowing green guns behind the bar. Bottles shattered. The scent of bourbon and scotch permeated the air ... along with blood. With a roar, Talen leaped over the pool table, his knife in hand. Red arced across the window, spraying like a rainbow of death. When Talen rose and turned, gone was his brother. In his place stood vengeance.

  Giving a short nod, Conn pivoted and rushed toward another flight of stairs. Down. He’d keep going down until he found his woman.

  A whisper of her reached out. The hint of lilacs. A savage wildness consumed him. Taking his mate out of safety and away from him pissed off the soldier inside him. Almost as much as the action challenged the animal lurking even deeper.

  She was his.

  The soldier easily, almost too willingly, gave over to the predator. Gone was reason, gone was mercy. Anyone else standing between him and his mate would die. Slow, fast, he no longer cared. Their time would end.

  With a snarl, the animal rose in dominance, pure instinct taking over.

  Talen swept the area, turning his focus and aim to a thick oak door set to the side. Conn nodded, putting his boot to it. The door slammed open to reveal wide cement steps leading down. He hated basements. “Down.”

  The metal door slid open and Trevan rushed inside to slam it shut. Moira grabbed the bars with both hands, shielding Cara and the babe from his sight. She forced a smile. “So. Guess we have company.” Though dim, the sound of gunfire could be heard in the distance. Even stronger, the sense of Conn drew nearer. She may not be able to get into his head yet, but his fury sent out vibrations.

  Trevan pivoted to her, his eyes wild. “How the hell did they find you?” He gestured toward the walls. “No way you could send a message.”

  He didn’t know about Cara’s ability to reach her mate. A closely guarded secret, and one Moira had kept through the years. “I’m more powerful than you think, dumbass.”

  A beep sounded from his pocket and he yanked out a phone to read a message. Fury swept across his face in clotted red. “The outer door has been breached. The locks will slow them down some, but they’ll eventually make it inside here.” His smile chilled her blood. The gun he pulled from his waistband heated her right back up.

  “You going to shoot me, Trevan?” Not for a second did she believe he’d kill his bargaining chip.

  “No.” He took two steps forward and slid to the side, pointing the weapon.

  The shot echoed around the small room.

  “No,” Moira screamed, leaping to shield Cara and the babe in unison with Simone.

  The bullet hit the new mother, throwing her back against the wall. Blood sprayed out, catching Moira across the face. A vicious roar split the night from the other side of the door. Moira leaped forward, her hands going to the wound in Cara’s right shoulder—three inches from the babe’s head.

  Cara’s mouth dropped open. She paled to white cardboard, her blue eyes cutting to Trevan. “Talen will kill you.” Her hand cupped her child’s head, caressing when he started to whimper.

  Moira took the towel Simone had grabbed, pressing hard against the bullet hole. “Cara. Focus, hon. You’re going into shock.” Rage shot through her. Talen wouldn’t get a chance to kill Trevan. She glared over her shoulder. “What the hell are you thinking?” Who could actually shoot at a woman holding her newborn? What kind of a monster was he?

  Simone dropped to her knees by the bed. “Cara, let me hold the baby so we can take a look at your injury.” Tremors shook her voice.

  “No.” Cara tightened her hold on the baby, tears gathering in her eyes. Shock had her pupils dilating.

  Trevan stepped up to the bars, the gun pointed at Cara’s head. Moira nodded to Simone, who placed her hands on the towel to stem the bleeding.

  Then Moira stood and turned, shielding. “Why?”

  Trevan leveled the weapon between her eyes, reaching to the side wall and punching in a code. The bars swung open. “Come here. Make one move and I’ll shoot the baby.”

  Anger threatened to still her legs. But outside, next to him, she had more of a chance to get the weapon. She needed to get his focus off Cara. So Moira stepped lightly toward him, training moves filtering through her thoughts. He grabbed her hair and yanked her to his side, shutting the door, pressing her back to his front. Cold metal pressed against her temple.

  Leather slid around her neck.

  Weakness assaulted her limbs. Her blood slowed. A tingling set up in her extremities.

  He whipped her around, clinking something into place. She reached up, her eyes widening at the cold lock. “What the hell?” Her eyelids fluttered. A lump of dread settled hard in her stomach. Oh God, it couldn’t be.

  Trevan smiled. “Phanakite. A collar just for you, bitch.”

  With a low cry, she dug her nails into the leather, her fingers burning. Leather mixed with phanakite. Against her jugular, against her flesh. She tugged. Nothing. Her muscles went lax. It couldn’t touch her skin like this. She might never recover. Tears poked her eyes, and she forced them back.

  Trevan punched in another code, and the far wall opened to reveal a passageway. He turned toward the cell. “Simone. I had hoped things would be different.” Then he grabbed Moira’s arm and tugged her through. The door slid shut, and lights strung along the ceiling flickered to life. He shoved her into the passenger seat of a golf cart. “Well now. I guess contingency plans are always a good idea, right, Seventh?”

  Her mind twirled. She clutched the fabric seat, trying to keep her balance. “Why did you shoot Cara?” The words emerged slow and slurred.

  He pressed the pedal, sending the cart flying forward through the tunnels. “Whatever Kayrs shows up will stop and make sure she and the babe are all right. I just bought us some time.”

  Moira struggled to keep upright. Damp earth filled her nostrils. Lights flashed by, and she blinked. She swayed.

  Trevan clapped a hand around her arm. “Don’t go falling out, now. Your body will adjust to the collar. You won’t get any strength back, but you should be able to sit upright soon
.” His voice echoed from far away.

  She lost track of time. Or maybe reality. Finally they came to the end of the tunnel. Trevan jumped out and yanked open a worn door. Snow and wind bombarded inside, and Moira turned her head to the side, shutting her eyes. So cold. Slowly, her thoughts began to organize.

  Trevan grabbed her hair, tugging her off the seat.

  She protested as he pulled her into the swirling storm. A sprawling hill lay to the right, trees and rock ahead. Atop the hill stood a large warming hut. Hail pelted her, leaving bruises. But the pain centered her. Until she tripped over a rock, smashing to the ground. Her hands stopped her fall, shredding from brittle pinecones. Cold, she was so cold. Trevan tightened his hold on her hair, dragging her along an overgrown trail into the forest.

  The knees of her jeans shredded. She stumbled to her feet, yanking her head away. The wind nearly knocked her over. She should run.

  Trevan grabbed the front of her blouse and forced her through the trees. A rocky cliff stood before them. He reached out, slid his hand across the rock, and a keypad appeared.

  Dizziness swamped Moira. The stones moved. Crap. An elevator? Her mind wanted to fight. Her body wanted to sleep for weeks. “Take the collar off, Trevan.” She staggered inside the elevator, reaching out to steady herself against the walls.

  “No.” The door slid shut. The lift began to rise. “Your mate won’t find the elevator, Moira. We’ll be safe at the top while waiting for my people.”

  Nobody would see the lift. But Conn would scale the mountain to rescue her. None of it was making sense. The collar muddled everything.

  The lift halted and the doors slid open. Mother Nature smashed her way inside. The squeal from the wind pierced Moira’s eardrums. She cringed back when Trevan clasped her hand, but he dragged her into the storm unhampered, as if she had no strength.

  Hail pelted them during the short trek from rock to cabin. With a sigh of relief, Trevan pushed open the door and propelled her inside.

  Chapter 30

  Trevan shoved Moira against the wall of the cabin, casting a worried glance at the hail battering the window. “This storm is unbelievable.” Quick motions had her handcuffed to iron rings set into the rough wooden planks.

  She looked around for a weapon. Shelves held gloves, goggles, and hand warmers. The walls were bare, and unbleached pine spread across the floors. A broken board from the floor would make an excellent weapon. A closed door stood to the north, probably to a bathroom. “Your helicopter isn’t going to make it here, asshole.” Moira struggled to keep her neck upright. The collar seemed to be dragging energy right out of her skin.

  Trevan tightened his jaw. “Sure it is. The landing spot is next to this warming hut. We always meet transportation right here.”

  A tingling set up at the base of her neck. She focused on the closed interior door. An energy, one barely measurable, pulsated in the next room. Something familiar. “Who’s in there?”

  His eyes lightened. “You truly have power, Seventh.” He strode over to the door, ripping it open and revealing a bathroom. Reaching inside, he grabbed something and yanked.

  Moira cried out as her sister tumbled out. “Brenna!” Thank God. Relief threatened to steal whatever strength Moira had left. Tears gathered, wanting to fall.

  Brenna shook her head, her eyes fluttering before opening. Frayed rope bound her hands and feet. Duct tape covered her mouth. She wore a matching, sparkling collar around her neck. Her dark eyes widened on her sister before she scowled.

  Trevan grabbed her hair and dragged her next to Moira, handcuffing her to the wall. “I left her in the bathroom—wasn’t sure how long we’d be.” Flashing a wide smile, he ripped off the tape.

  “Ouch god dam it you fucking prick,” Brenna hissed. Angry motions had her tossing strands out of her face. “I am so going to kill you. First I’m going to take your skin, then I’m concentrating on your liver. You think my aunt is scary—”

  Trevan backhanded her, slamming her head back into the oak.

  Brenna gasped. “Now that just hurt, Trevan.”

  Moira struggled against the cuffs, feeling like sand had swallowed her limbs. She’d kill him. She’d take his liver out and eat it. “How did he get you here, Bren?”

  “Two of his guys dropped by. I let them right in.” Self-disgust curled Brenna’s lip. “We fought, and I woke up on a plane coming to this palace. He brought me to keep you in control, the dumbass. How did you get here?”

  “Transported. Prick.” Moira stared into the darkness outside the wide window. Anger rose at her helplessness. “Take this collar off and fight me like a man, Trevan.” She could take him one-on-one. Using a device made of phanakite violated every oath he’d ever taken.

  “No.” He frowned at his cuticles. “I bruised my hand on your cousin’s face already.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Quite a surprise, that one. Thought I knew Simone.”

  “Guess you don’t understand women.” Brenna rested her head against the wall.

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. Besides, Simone was a temporary distraction. One I now regret.”

  Moira kept her body still, forcing boredom into her tone. “Right. Considering you already have a woman.” She had heard a female voice ... who the hell was it?

  “Nice try.” Trevan inched closer to the window. “I promised my lady protection and unfortunately am unable to satisfy your curiosity.”

  Moira’s feet began to tingle, her hands going numb. The collar needed to be removed, and fast. “I suggest you make a run for it now, Trevan. My mate will be here soon.”

  “I’m counting on Connlan making an appearance. My people will arrive in due time, and we’ll arrange an alternate meeting point with the Kurjans.” Trevan grinned, flipping open a cell phone to speak. “That helicopter needs to land on the roof within thirty minutes, or I’ll kill you and your entire family. Everyone you’ve ever known, in fact.” He listened and then nodded. “I thought you’d see things my way. Are the sharpshooters in position? Good.”

  Nausea competed with dread in Moira’s stomach. “You’d truly hand me over to the Kurjans? Knowing they want a witch to experiment on?”

  “I need an alliance with them to take over the Nine.” He punched a code into a keypad on the wall, and the hill below them lit, illuminating the pelting hail. Wind beat against the sides, shaking the rafters. “Ladies, I believe we’re about to have some fun while we wait.”

  Moira’s eyes fluttered, and she bit down on her lip. The pain helped her focus. “What have you done?”

  Trevan rubbed his hands together. “We’re against solid rock with a sheer cliff on the other side. This hill, this sweet-looking hill, is the only way to reach you, Moira. I assume we’ll see your mate shortly.”

  The gods continued to hail missiles at the ground, and Moira forced a smile. “Your sharpshooters can’t see through that muck. They can’t find my mate.”

  Though was he all right? Conn’s internal injuries hadn’t had time to heal, and the skirmish below had sounded bloody.

  “They can spot him well enough, don’t you worry.” Trevan placed one hand against the window. “Besides, bullets are the least of your boy’s worries.”

  “Conn will find land mines and traps,” Brenna whispered. “Don’t worry, Moira.”

  Trevan shook his head. “The land mines are set too far down to be sensed. While they won’t kill like normal, they’ll certainly injure and slow a vampire—which is all I need for my shooters to take him down long enough so we can cut his head off.”

  Moira shared a worried look with her sister. The plan wasn’t bad. Conn’s injuries would slow him down, and the blast from a land mine wouldn’t help. Not to mention carefully aimed bullets.

  “How could you turn your back on everything you’ve vowed to protect?” Moira asked.

  Trevan turned, both dark eyebrows raised. “Why would I protect a council that won’t grow? We’re the most powerful species on this planet, yet we follow
the vampires’ lead and chase down our own ... for doing what comes naturally.” Two steps and his face lowered close to hers. “Deep down, we all know this. How else could I have spun the king’s training request so easily?”

  The bastard had set them all up from the beginning. “So you weren’t concerned the king wanted our soldiers.”

  Trevan shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care. Maybe the king had ulterior motives, maybe he didn’t. But the Coven Nine was all too ready to dig in their feet about training our own soldiers.”

  She shook her head. “This is treason.”

  “Treason is a matter of perspective.” His gaze dropped to her lips and back up. “How many of your own have you taken down, Enforcer? For practicing magic?”

  His minty breath made her stomach roll. “That wasn’t magic. That was the manipulation of matter to harm. The laws exist for a reason.” So the whole damn planet didn’t blow up.

  “Laws change along with leadership.” With a dark gleam in his eye, he placed a kiss on her lips.

  She bared her teeth and snapped.

  He darted back, barely missing her sharp bite. Regret flashed across his handsome face. “I’m sorry I won’t get a chance to break you, Seventh.” With a shrug, he sidled back to the window. “I guess the Kurjans get all the fun this time.”

  “Do they know?” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep the tremor from her voice. “Did you tell them about the phanakite?” Having the witches’ biggest weakness become public knowledge was frightful. The repercussions were unfathomable.

  “No.” Trevan’s breath fogged the glass. “My lady talked me out of that. Guess you owe her.”

  Apparently his woman was a whole lot smarter than he was. No way the Kurjans wouldn’t turn that kind of information against him. “Tell me who she is so I can properly thank her.”

  He laughed. “Well, while the Kurjans are ripping through your genetics, I’ll have some fun with your little sister here.” His autocratic head tilted toward Brenna. “I’ll still need leverage with the Coven Nine. For a while.”