Hunter Trials

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Hunter Trials Page 12

by Caroline Peckham


  I stumbled back, glaring at him and he muttered an apology.

  I spotted Arabella across the room, dressed in gleaming silver armour with two fierce-looking women beside her. She strode toward the ring, gesturing for me to leave.

  “Want to learn what happens to rule breakers?” she asked and I shrugged, heading after her, ducking under the wire.

  My chest was bare, but someone ran over, passing me a body plate and strapping it onto me without question. A girl passed me a large machete and I raised my brows at Arabella. “Where are we going?”

  She turned on her heel, leading the way forward. “To break up a fight,” she muttered, her shoulders tensing.

  I hurried after her as we marched through the cave system, winding into the darkness.

  A rush of feathers made me look up and I spotted Solomon's owl flying ahead of us. Glancing back, I spotted Solomon himself hurrying up behind us with a man and woman at his side, all dressed for a fight.

  “What's going on?” I asked Arabella.

  “Bain and Hawke,” she said in answer. “I'm sick of their animosity.”

  Solomon hurried to her side. He was as wide as an ox, his body primed with muscle. The huge bear fur hung from his shoulders, billowing behind him as he walked.

  “It ends today,” he snarled and Arabella nodded firmly.

  The owl hooted as we arrived in a huge cavern with the word Tenebris carved into the wall above a row of severed heads.

  The entire clan were grouped around something, crying out, cheering on the fight that was evidently breaking out.

  As Arabella pushed through them, they parted like a sea around her, letting her through. She lifted her chin as we arrived before the six people battling with each other. As I moved around Arabella, Hawke fell atop Bain, jamming his knee into his ribs.

  “Enough!” Arabella cried.

  One guy was choking another who was turning blue. His attacker released him, getting to his feet and gazing calmly at Arabella.

  Hawke didn't stop, lifting his sword as if he was fully prepared to decapitate Bain.

  Arabella nudged me forward. “Break them up, new boy.”

  I marched forward, grabbing Hawke's shoulders and heaving him back. He only fought a little, giving in as he released Bain and rose to his feet. He shoved me away from him, turning to Arabella. A line of blood was sailing down his brow from a deep cut, but it healed over as I eyed it.

  “He has gone too far this time,” Hawke snarled at her, looking like a wild man.

  Solomon stepped past her, speaking in his booming tone. “Then you come to us for counsel. You are entitled to a formal fight, but this looks like an ambush.”

  “Ambush?!” Hawke roared, marching forward. “He cannot be let away with breaking the rules again and again.”

  “Quiet,” Arabella hissed. “You are moments from losing your position as Nox leader, Hawke.”

  “You have no right,” Hawke snarled as Bain rose to his feet behind him, adjusting his mask which was askew on his face.

  “I can if the other leaders agree,” Arabella said, composing herself.

  Solomon rested a hand on her shoulder, his eyes on Hawke. “What is it you accuse Bain of?”

  “Another of my harem is dead!” Hawke roared, breathing heavily. “And he lured Mercy here and used his goddamn Siren gift on her,” he spat.

  My shoulders tensed. He touched Mercy?

  Solomon turned to Bain. “Is this true?”

  “I have killed no one. And the Helsing girl came to me willingly. She practically took the mask from my face,” Bain said calmly, looking to his harem who were lined up behind him. “Isn't that true?”

  “Yes sire,” they murmured in unison.

  Liar.

  Bain lifted his hands. “You see?”

  I glanced at Arabella, praying she wouldn't fall for this bullshit.

  “Your harem would lie for you, of course,” Arabella said calmly and the knot in my chest eased a fraction. She took a slow breath, looking between Bain and Hawke. “We cannot let these deaths continue. Hawke...you are no longer entitled to a harem. If they are being targeted, we cannot let them remain in danger.”

  “What?” he snarled.

  Bain started laughing and my hands curled into tight fists. Something about the guy creeped me out. And it wasn't just the way he looked, he reeked of danger.

  Solomon nodded his agreement. “And Bain will spend a night in the hole.”

  “Bullshit,” Bain snarled, the smile falling dramatically from his face.

  “There is always smoke where there is fire, Bain. And I know you,” Arabella said. “If you touch Mercy Helsing again, there will be more severe consequences.”

  Bain glared evenly back at her then shrugged. “Fine. If I must go to the hole for being irresistible to women, then that is the price I'll pay.” His clan chuckled and I squared my shoulders toward him.

  One punch, that's the least I wanted for what he'd done to Mercy. Arabella leaned toward me and the women who had escorted her. “Take Bain to the hole.”

  I nodded, more than happy to comply as I moved forward and grabbed Bain's arm. He glowered at me, but let me guide him. The other girls led the way forward and I moved behind Bain, my machete drawn.

  We soon arrived in a large cavern with a pit at the heart of it. A rope dangled over the edge and Bain dropped smoothly to his knees, lowering himself down. When he'd dropped the four storeys to the bottom, the girls hauled the rope back out.

  “Good riddance,” one of them muttered, stalking away.

  The other swiftly followed, but as I turned to do the same, Bain hissed, “Hey new kid.”

  I stiffened, half considering not answering but curiosity got the better of me. “What?” I gazed down into the pit where Bain was sitting against a wall, not looking particularly bothered by his current predicament.

  “Want to earn a few privileges?” he asked, his eyes glinting.

  I folded my arms. “What's that supposed to mean? I'm not even in your clan. And if you think I'm gonna smuggle you a pillow in here, you've sorely misjudged me.”

  He smirked beneath his half bone mask. “A little birdy told me you're trying to break out of here.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Oh really?” I didn't like the idea that Bain had been spying on me. I wondered how many people were truly loyal to their clans.

  “Yes and I can help,” Bain said. “If you help me, too.”

  “Why do I need your help? I have a map. I'll figure it out.” I stepped back, but he called after me.

  “You don't have a full map. I know that much. And did Arabella tell you about the only man who ever came back from exile?”

  I frowned, approaching the edge of the pit again. Bain was shrouded in shadow, but his eyes seemed darker than the thickest shade. I didn't trust him one bit, but if what he said was true, I had to know more.

  “Who?” I inquired.

  Bain's lips tipped up and something in his expression made my heart rate quicken. “Me.”

  My brows lifted, then doubts spilled through me. “You could be lying.”

  “Ask Arabella,” he said coolly. “She won't deny it.”

  “And so what if it is true?” I growled, not wanting to make any deals with this creep.

  “I know a way out,” he purred. “I can't do it alone. The other clans refused to believe me, as always. But I never lied about this. If I could have escaped alone, I would have. But it cannot be done.”

  I pressed my tongue into my cheek, thinking. Did I trust Bain? No. But if he was telling the truth about this, I damn well needed his help. I'd have to get Arabella to confirm it. But that still didn't make it true. Bain could have lied about the escape route when he returned from exile.

  “I can see you need time to think on this,” Bain said in a low tone. “Go ahead. Come to me when you've made your decision.”

  I moved to leave, then paused. “Why me? What is it you want me to do?”

  He grinned keenl
y. “I know who you are Accolt Jones and I know what you did to get here.”

  “And?” I prompted, my spine prickling.

  Bain gazed up at me, his voice a hiss as he spoke. “I need an assassin. And who is more capable of killing a Vampire than a Hunter?”

  SEVENTY FIVE YEARS AGO

  I'd made more kills before my eighteenth birthday than any man I knew. But I no longer got the thrill off of it I once had. Something was missing. After my mother had been killed in one of the games, something had changed in me. Why had father let her play again and again, for all those years? Hadn't he loved her? Seeing the female contestants die in his games became common practice. But why did it leave me empty? So hollow? I'd once adored the way killing had felt. I still got the bloodlust, just before a kill. But murdering those weaker than me didn't feel strong anymore. It felt pointless.

  I sat in the grand hall at a table of people. My father was up on the stage. His games had intensified since my mother's death. So much blood was spilled, it was enough to fill several swimming pools a week. I didn't know whether my mother's death was the reason or if he was trying to please his spectators.

  More and more men started to attend the games. His resort was growing in size, new buildings sprang up every year. But this season was already boring me. I hadn't made a kill since it had started. I wasn't interested in it. Sometimes I watched the games, hoped my heart would beat a little harder or I'd find that sweet rush that accompanied a death. But it wasn't happening. Perhaps there was only so much killing a man could watch before that desire was fulfilled. Perhaps I needed other pleasures. As I thought it, I played with a knife in my hand, finding myself pressing it a little too hard into my palm.

  Today was my birthday. I'd aged well in my last cycle, now looking like a young man more than a teen. And though my father had offered me the company of whores whenever I liked, I'd never taken up the opportunity. I'd seen him and my mother's love, how it had fulfilled him. And perhaps that was what I was looking for now.

  “More wine, sir?” The pretty waitress appeared. I'd known her for a few years; father had employed her even though she was young. Perhaps eighteen now though.

  I smiled at her, gesturing for her to fill up my glass. She leant forward and her blonde ponytail slipped over her shoulder, a sweet fragrance reaching to me from her neck. I thanked her and she blushed. She often did that around me.

  “Jessica, isn't it?” I asked and she nodded, seeming surprised that I knew her name. I didn't often take an interest in our employees.

  “Join me for a drink, Jessica.” I pushed out the chair beside mine and her brows raised.

  “I'm working, sir.”

  “Colt, please,” I said with a slanted smile. “And I have authority here. So please, sit.”

  She dropped into the seat, visibly swallowing.

  Nothing around here was earned. And I really wanted to earn something. Her desire for me maybe. But more than that...

  I leant in closer, taking the bottle from her hand and filling her a glass on the table. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “Me?” she breathed.

  I nodded, amused by her.

  “Well... there's not much to say.” She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear, her cheeks flushing the most perfect pink colour like a winter sunset.

  “I'm sure that's not true,” I teased.

  She started telling me about how her mother had gotten her the job. Originally a maid from England, she hadn't had much in the way of money, but my father paid her well now.

  “And what do you think of the resort?” I asked.

  Her eyes grew distant. “It's wonderful, sir – er – Colt.” Her expression spoke of another truth.

  I tilted my head. “Are you sure?” I whispered, leaning closer.

  She nodded firmly, but I could tell she was lying. Of course some of the staff here were uncomfortable with the games. It took a certain type of person to enjoy them. And something about knowing that secret she held made my blood heat up. It was somehow refreshing. A new opinion. Most of the people in the resort fell at my feet to make me happy. She was trying, but I sensed I might be able to break down those walls. Certainly she wouldn't dare tell me the real truth. Not unless she trusted me...

  I decided not to pursue it for now, chatting with her about work, about the games. There wasn't much else to my life besides hunting. When the game season was over, I packed up a bag and spent time in the wilderness. Sometimes weeks, just living off the land. There was peace in it. The absolute silence of a winter wonderland. But I was growing tired of it, year by year. The monotony, the loneliness of it all.

  After a while, I let her go back to work, but not before slipping a key card into her pocket for my hotel room. Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous. And I didn't want her arriving under the illusion she had to be there. But I'd see if she came first...then put her at ease.

  I was starting to realise how different I was from my father. I didn't take what I wanted because it was handed it to me. There was no pride in that. And I wanted the opportunity to acquire something by earning it.

  ✭☠ ✭

  Jessica came to my room every night for two weeks. I never laid a hand on her. We simply spoke. And finally, she was starting to trust me. My interest in her grew to something else. I was starting to care for her and it felt like the whole world was opening up before me, offering me the opportunity of another life. One without games and blood. One with a girl at my side who knew me. Really knew me. And cared about me too.

  We were playing cards on my bed; she sat opposite me in her waitress uniform, smiling as she won another round.

  “I win,” she announced, grinning from ear to ear. That smile was starting to take a hold of me. Every time her pink lips pulled upwards, I longed to feel what they felt like against my mouth. But I didn't want to rush things with her, even though I sensed she was developing feelings for me too.

  “What now?” she asked. “Another game?”

  I shook my head, pushing the cards aside and dropping down onto the bed. “I'm bored of games.”

  She tentatively laid down beside me, her golden locks falling in a fan across my pillow. Her ocean green eyes shone at me. “All games?” she breathed and I knew what she meant.

  I dropped her gaze, nodding.

  Her hand slid onto my wrist. “I don't like them either.”

  I glanced up, a knot tying in my chest. It was my birthright to take over this resort. But for all the world, I couldn't see me doing it. And at last, I'd gotten Jessica to admit the truth. That she didn't want a part in it either.

  “Why don't you go home?” I asked. “I'll ensure you have enough money to set yourself up back in England.”

  Her eyes roamed over my face. “Would you come and visit me?”

  I'd still never left this part of the world. I longed to see all the places the spectators spoke of. London, Rome, Paris. It sounded like an adventure waiting to happen.

  “I'd like that.” I smiled and her hand slid further up my arm.

  “You're not who I thought you were, Colt.”

  “Who did you think I was?” I frowned.

  She didn't answer, glancing away.

  “Like my father?” I guessed and she nodded shyly.

  Her eyes widened suddenly in alarm. “Please...don't take offence to that. It's just that you're different, that's all.”

  “You're the first person to think so,” I whispered.

  Jessica shifted toward me and my mouth dried out.

  “Run away with me,” she whispered, teasing.

  I took her arm, drawing her closer, desperate for that kiss I'd been hungering for since we'd met.

  “Maybe I will,” I joked along with her, but leaving this place frightened me in a way I couldn't quite explain. Perhaps it was fear of the unknown.

  Her mouth parted and she gazed at me with the very thing I'd been looking for. It rose the heat in my veins, more than a kill ever could. I couldn't resist that look,
dragging her closer and she came willingly, falling down on top of me, her mouth suddenly on mine.

  My heart pounded harder and harder. I snared her in my arms, crushing her to me, needing to devour every drop of that feeling. The one I'd been missing for so long.

  I soon pinned her to the bed, pressing her hands into the sheets. Fire poured through my veins. I wanted her. Needed her. She made me forget this place, reminded me of what else the world could offer beyond spilled blood.

  She tugged my top over my head, urging me on and I soon had her naked beneath me, sighing my name like it was a prayer.

  I lost myself in her kisses, the heat of her skin, our bodies moving in a new and unexplored way. I already wanted to do this again and again. And forget all about the resort.

  At least for that moment, we weren't really present there. We'd created our own world and it had nothing to do with my father's.

  Since I'd transferred the money to Cade, I hadn't heard from him. Part of me feared he was a conman who'd run off with my cash. But he'd been too damn intimidating not to be a hitman. So I had to have faith.

  As I made myself a sandwich in my little green kitchen, I glanced over at Silas's body within the frosted cryo-chamber.

  “You're quiet today...maybe I'm not as crazy as I thought.”

  Maybe I'm quiet because I'm essentially a dead body.

  I tutted, slicing up my sandwich and placing it on a plate. I'd googled the symptoms of my insanity - plus I'd watched Castaway more times than I could count. It was somewhat 'expected' that someone as isolated from the world as me might make up a 'friend' in their head. But that didn't comfort me much. Still meant I was crazy, didn't it?

  My phone pinged in my pocket and I took it out, finding an email from the real-life Silas.

  Kate,

  I hope this isn't too much of an intrusion but I need to check up on my original body. There have been some developments. Would you mind if I came to your house tonight? I'll explain everything then.

  Silas Madigan

  C.E.O of IDAHO

  My gut dropped like a stone. Panic swept through me in torrents. Tonight? In my house? The real Silas Madigan?!

  I gazed at his body through the misted glass, speechless, my hand trembling where it clutched the phone.

 

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