The Wanted

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by Rory Miles


  Padding into the kitchen, I put on a pot of water while birds chirped outside the kitchen window. I stood before the newly replaced pane of glass and took in the early morning activity. The sun shone down on the garden where I’d planted some flowers. They weren’t practical, but they made the place feel like home. Or, as close to home as I could get on the run.

  I’d only been to Forest City twice since finding the cottage. Once to buy some food, and another to get the flowers. The cottage sat just outside civilization, closer than I had thought it would be. A ten-minute walk put me at the edge of the bustling city. I welcomed the isolation. Living in Desert City had been convenient, but I’d always felt crowded.

  Whistling while fixing my tea, I tried to decide what to do for the day. Finding where the local bounty hunters hung out was top priority and I already needed to get more food. My pretty bag of money would only last so long. I raised my mug to the bird on the windowsill.

  “Here’s to new beginnings,” I sang out. The bird startled and flew away. I frowned. Was that a bad omen? Other than bounty hunting, the only thing I excelled at was singing. “Screw you too, bird,” I muttered, not letting the bird get me down.

  I chopped the carrots with a bit more force than needed. Frustrated didn’t begin to describe my current mood. I had had zero luck finding the bounty hunters. They were like ghosts. The locals hadn’t helped much either. One name. All I had was one stupid name.

  Flynn.

  Setting down the knife, I dumped the carrots into the soup cooking on the stove. Thunder rolled overhead, making my scowl deepen. The sun had disappeared behind a blanket of dark angry clouds hours ago, cutting my in-town excursion short. I leaned against the counter by the stove, crossing my arms and tapping my fingers. My stomach made a loud noise. I sighed. The muffin I ate earlier wasn’t sufficient.

  Turning back to the soup, I went up on my tiptoes to stir it. The stovetop almost came to my chest, unusually high if you asked me. But then again, I was shorter than most people. A shadow passed over the cabinet to my right. Narrowing my eyes, I stirred the pot, keeping watch on the group of shadows reflected on the cabinet. Six, I counted six people.

  Damn.

  Only one person would send six men after me.

  Rule number five in the unwritten rules of bounty hunters: Everything can become a weapon.

  Humming to myself, I grabbed one of the pans I’d used to cook the meat in before putting it in the soup. One of the six stepped toward me. I spun, striking out with the pan.

  “No soup for you!” I screamed, holding the pan tight when it smacked the guy in the head, the impact reverberating up my arm. He went down hard, crying out in pain. Wielding a spatula in my left had and the heavy pan in my right, I glared at the rest of them.

  Five sets of surprised eyes stared at me. All men. All fit, tall, and strong. All of them were unbelievably handsome.

  Goddess above, Winter. Get it together.

  Just then, the door opened and a seventh man walked in. His eyes flitted to me, the weapons in my hands, and to his friend on the floor before narrowing, anger burning bright. I knew that look. Lumi absorbed the brunt of the magical assault, saving me from the paralytic spell. The guy’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Bad choice.” Lifting my hand, I sneered at him and shot his brown magic at the group, hitting one after the other in rapid succession. They fell to the ground, temporarily knocked unconscious. I loosened my grip on the spatula and threw the pan and utensil on the counter, making a frustrated sound. Eating would have to wait.

  Goddess please don’t let me kill them because I’m hangry.

  All the restraints I owned were in the bedroom along with the rest of my gear. I hurried down the hall to grab them, hoping the giant men wouldn’t wake up before I got them all tied up. My heart plummeted when I counted the restraints. Six. There were only six. Glancing around frowning, I searched for anything I could use as a substitute.

  The dresser. I wrinkled my nose, realizing what I’d have to use. There wasn’t time to find a better alternative. After stuffing three pairs of my slinky underwear into the pocket of my shorts, I ran back into the kitchen. No one had moved.

  The man closest to me had deep chestnut hair, a strong jaw line, and the beginnings of a beard. I slipped the first rope cuff over one of his hands before pulling the other arm over. This guy was stacked. I looked around. Correction, they were all stacked. The cuffs were spelled with magic I’d siphoned from powerful marks. The spell I used on the cuffs caused the rope to tighten if someone tried to magic them off. The restraints were near impossible to break with physical strength, but I worried these men would be the ones to finally break them.

  Moving to the next one, I secured the cuffs and admired his darker skin and short hair.

  Look but don’t touch, you know how these guys are.

  While I didn’t recognize any of them, the DMC had over 200 members. It stood to reason they were either new recruits or I had overlooked them when I was held prisoner. It wasn’t like they let me out to socialize while I’d been held captive.

  The next two men looked nearly identical, with dark hair the color of fire and pale skin spotted with freckles. No one stirred, no shouts of protest rose up when I put the magicked cuffs on them. Thank the goddess they were knocked out, otherwise it wouldn’t have been so easy. The next two had blond hair but looked nothing alike. One had a nose that looked like it had been broken more than once; the other had cheekbones and thick lashes any woman would envy. I hoped pretty-boy would forgive me for hitting him with the frying pan.

  Focus on restraining them. I narrowed my eyes and straddled the last guy. The one who shot his power at me. He had landed on his stomach with his arms splayed to the side. I pulled the left up, placing it on my leg and pulling out the underwear from my pocket. My heart hurt when I knotted the black, red, and pink fabrics together. Nice things were hard to come by, and these were premium-quality thongs. This imbecile didn’t deserve them.

  Lumi still had a bit of a charge, so I focused on the intent of a restraining spell.

  No escape. Immobilize. Contain.

  Brown light jumped from Lumi to my undie cuffs before receding. I tugged on the undies, feeling the slight vibration of power. While I didn’t have my own magic anymore, I had a knack for feeling it and manipulating it with tools.

  The guy I sat on had raven-black hair, cut close on the sides and longer on the top. His butt provided a nice, firm cushion. I’d just finished checking the knot when he moaned. He blinked, lifted his head enough to look around, craning his neck to glance back at me. His arms tugged against the undies but they held tight.

  I smirked. Hell yeah.

  His fingers brushed the tops of my thighs in his struggle, causing an unwelcome and inconvenient warmth to flare low in my belly. I would not crush on the enemy. I would not. No matter how gorgeous they were. The man grunted, flipping over so suddenly I toppled off. He landed on top of me as soon as my back hit the floor.

  I stifled a snort. He looked adorable with his hands tied behind his back. Not to mention the scowl he pinned me with added a bit of allure as his gray eyes darkened with frustration.

  “Untie me,” he said, pushing his weight down on me.

  “No.” I cocked my head to the side and smiled. “You shouldn’t have tried to hit me with your magic.”

  He growled, then looked at his comrades who were all slowly waking up. The one with chestnut-colored hair came to first, rolling to his side, sitting up, and frowning at his cuffs. Meeting his friend’s gaze before glancing down, he made a sound resembling a squawk, then looked at me, eyes sparkling with mirth.

  “Why’d he get the fun cuffs?” he asked, voice gravelly and deep.

  I quirked a brow at him. “If you play nice maybe I’ll let you trade.”

  He barked out a laugh, startling the others to full consciousness. The edges of my mouth tipped up but I quickly pulled them down, remembering who I was dealing with.

  W
hy the fuck was I flirting with him?

  “Hey,” the one sitting on me said, wriggling on me to get my attention.

  My breath caught. Not because he rolled his hips against my stomach, giving me an intimate preview of his manhood. No. The jerk bounced on me, knocking the air from my lungs.

  “Shit,” I wheezed, wincing against the pain. Chestnut laughed again. Tears pricked my eyes. My ribs were still tender and I hadn’t wrapped them today because I’d been feeling better. Seeing the agony on my face, he rolled off of me, face softening for just a moment before his eyes went cold.

  “You’re hurt.” There wasn’t a shred of sympathy in his voice. He looked at my bruised wrists, the scabs covering my arms, before his gaze rested on my stomach. I wore a shirt, but it felt as though he could see through the material to the dark bruising and gouges covering my torso. The creases in his forehead deepened.

  “I think you need to start talking,” he said, glaring at Chestnut who still laughed like we were old friends and being tied up was his idea of a good time. The other men looked at me, faces a mixture of surprise, frustration, and anger.

  My head fell back against the floor. Goddess, I wished I had magic so I could make Raven stop talking.

  Chapter Six

  Every single scab itched. I resisted the urge to scrape my nails across my skin. Sitting on the couch provided a weird sort of power dynamic, placing me higher than all the men who sat on the floor. We’d been staring at each other for some time now; the only ones willing to speak to me thus far had been Raven and Chestnut. I didn’t necessarily want the others to talk, but their silence unsettled me.

  The twins, or at least I assumed they were twins, bothered me the most. Both pairs of hazel eyes—one lighter than the other—penetrated me, as though searching for my soul. I straightened, ignoring them and looking at the blond men. Their similarities stopped there. They definitely weren’t related. The first had icy blue eyes, arresting yet cold at the same time. The other had chocolaty brown eyes and the crooked nose.

  The one with blue eyes had a trim build, though still strong if the muscle definition of his arms gave any indication. The other one had more . . . girth, for lack of a better word. I smirked. Girthy sounded like a fine nickname to me.

  “Why are you smiling?” Raven asked, frowning at me. “Are you sane?”

  My eyes shot to him. “Why are you such an asshole?”

  “You’re the one holding us hostage and I’m the asshole?”

  “You tried to use your magic on me.”

  “You’re in our house. You assaulted Corban! What did you expect me to do?”

  I glanced at the blond one with icy blue eyes; he wasn’t so pretty when he scowled. Right, so he was still upset about the whole pan incident. I offered him a smile, hoping to defuse his anger. He glared at me until I had to look away.

  “Right, well. Sorry about that, Corban, but I found this cottage abandoned.” I put up a finger, counting the ways I had made the home mine. “I cleaned it up, fixed the broken window, and I planted the flowers out front. If anyone has rights to this house, it’s me.”

  Raven’s jaw ticked. “We didn’t abandon it.”

  “Oh really? So the broken glass, dirt and grime are just part of how you live?” I scoffed. “No wonder you all live together; no woman would have you.”

  Corban laughed. Oh good, maybe he’s over the whole pan-hitting thing. “You are way off base there . . .” He trailed off.

  “Winter,” I said, supplying my name for some stupid reason.

  “Winter.” He scowled, like saying my name offended him.

  Perhaps not.

  “The point is,” Raven cut in, “this is our house. We had to leave for work. Now we are back.”

  My fingers clasped together. “I’m sorry, but I can’t leave.”

  “She’s crazy,” one of the twins said.

  His brother nodded in agreement.

  I narrowed my eyes at the one who spoke. “I’m not crazy. I just need a few weeks and then I’ll leave.”

  The blond one with the crooked nose and girth scrunched his eyebrows. “Are you trying to negotiate with us while we’re still tied up?”

  “Well, yeah. What am I supposed to do? Let you loose so you can all attack me at once? I’m not stupid.”

  He scoffed, as though he disagreed with the last statement.

  “How about we make a deal? You uncuff us and we can talk.” This came from the brown-haired one. Chestnut.

  I got up, strode to the bedroom, picked up my darts and shooter and walked back into the living room. Raven looked at me with suspicion as I loaded a dart. When I raised the tube they all tensed, sharing concerned looks. I sighted Raven’s thigh and shot the dart at him. He moved, but I had anticipated it and he wasn’t fast enough.

  “Crazy wench, get this shit out of me. Oh goddess. What the . . . the . . . fuc?” His body thudded to the ground.

  “Oh fuck,” the twins said in unison.

  I smirked. “Don’t worry, it’ll wear off. If I untie the rest of you, no funny business. Otherwise I’ll stick you all with one of these. Got it?” Tilting my head and raising a brow, I gave them a saccharine smile.

  Perhaps I was laying it on a little thick, but I really wasn’t in the mood to fuck around.

  Chestnut erupted into laughter. “You are one scary chick. You know that, right?”

  I smiled and winked at him. “You have no idea.”

  None of the men protested when I left Raven tied up. They gave me a wide berth, rubbing at their wrists and watching me like I was about to go full psycho on them. The soup was still warm and I had plenty, so I grabbed eight bowls from the cabinet, leaving the last one for Raven when he woke up. My ribs smarted when I handed the first bowl to Corban. His frosty eyes were filled with apprehension. I smiled, filling the next bowl and handing it to Chestnut. He gave me a weak smile, glancing at the soup with concern.

  “I didn’t put poison in my own soup.” Tossing my hands up in exasperation, I grabbed a spoon and took a big bite, chewing with exaggeration.

  One of the twins came closer, pushing Chestnut aside. He picked up a bowl and served himself.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled, not meeting my eyes as he went to sit at the table.

  With hands on my hips, I watched as the rest of the men served themselves. Only the seventh seat remained open. I stared at it, wondering if it would be rude to take Raven’s spot while he lay incapacitated. I glanced at him, biting my lip, still worried I’d be breaking some unspoken rule if I took his spot. Not to mention, I wasn’t totally convinced they weren’t part of the DMC.

  Corban met my gaze with a knowing smile. “It’s all right, Winter. We don’t bite.” He gestured to the chair.

  “Unless you ask us to,” Chestnut added with a devious grin.

  Ducking my head, I used my hair to hide the blush staining my cheeks. He could bite me whenever he wanted. I hurried to the seat, pulling it out with more force than needed, and sat. We ate in silence, trading appraising glances between bites. Playing house with men I’d knocked out with borrowed magic and tied up was . . . strange, to say the least.

  “Is he going to wake up?” the twin with the darker green eyes asked.

  Raven hadn’t stirred. I used one of the weaker darts, the kind that only lasted twenty minutes.

  “Eventually,” I said.

  He shared a look with his brother, who shook his head. My spine tingled, making me frown. I stood and grabbed the shooter I’d forgotten on the counter. The men all leaned away from me.

  “Just a precaution.” I set the tube next to my bowl. “I don’t want you to get any ideas.”

  Chestnut snickered, breaking the tension.

  “What are your names anyway?”

  “Noah,” said the one with dark skin and short hair. His eyelashes were long but it didn’t soften his stoic facial features. Without a doubt he was the most attractive. He lacked the cocky arrogance the others had but in no way did he cower. He�
��d been quiet, but I sensed he noticed every movement I made. The silent ones were always the most dangerous.

  I shifted my body ever so slightly toward him, watching as he took note of the movement. He tilted his head, eyes bright with an unspoken challenge.

  Yup. Definitely the dangerous one.

  “Kace,” the blond one with the crooked nose said.

  My eyes landed on the twin with light hazel eyes and he averted his attention to the soup. The one with darker eyes sighed.

  “I’m Shawn.”

  “Sloan,” his brother offered, not looking up from his bowl.

  “Erik,” Chestnut said, smiling wide. I bit back my own. That one was dangerous for an entirely different reason.

  “And Raven?”

  “Raven?” Noah asked.

  I gestured to the one on the floor.

  “His name is Bron,” Kace said.

  The corners of my mouth dipped down. I liked Raven better. As if hearing his name, the man began to stir. Noah stood, holding up a hand when I made to go to Raven.

  “You should probably stay where you are.” He fixed me with a look, daring me to argue with him. Part of me wanted to, just because it sounded fun. I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms.

  “You’re cute when you pout,” Erik said.

  “Shut it, Erik,” I snapped.

  “Stop flirting with her. She attacked us,” Sloan scolded him.

  Erik shot him a scathing look but didn’t argue.

  I heard a deep moan and cringed when the six of them glared at me.

  “He’ll be fine,” I said, hoping they’d believe me.

  I turned back in time to see Bron retching all over the floor I’d just cleaned.

  Great. I should have remembered the venom caused such a reaction.

  Noah grabbed a towel from the counter, handing it to Bron. His dark brown eyes met mine; a mixture of curiosity and respect shone in them. Bron threw up again, the contents of his stomach landing on Noah’s shoes.

 

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