The Wanted

by Rory Miles

  Look. She mouthed the words and lifted her finger.

  I followed the direction she pointed, noticing a small ring of men surrounding another man. The man in the center had his hands raised; lush brown hair came into view.

  Goddess bless, what did he do now?

  I approached the men, stepping to the side of the crowd when I neared, straining to listen to the fiercely whispered conversation.

  “You’ve got the wrong person,” Flynn said, eyes catching mine. A brief moment of surprise rippled over his face before he schooled his features.

  “We saw you with her. Do you deny knowing who she is?” one of the men in the ring asked.

  Crap.

  I had a pretty good idea of who these men were. Pulling closer to a large tree trunk, I concealed most of my body with its mass. Flynn flicked his gaze to me. So many questions danced in his eyes and I wished I had the time to answer them. I couldn’t risk getting involved, though. If they saw me, they’d try to take me. Surveying the surrounding area, I checked for the rest of the retrieval team. Surveillance teams weren’t uncommon with the DMC, and if they caught me watching they’d turn tail and report me while the others tried to apprehend me.

  “Can you really blame her, whoever she is, for chasing a guy like me?” Flynn smirked.

  Oh please.

  “Gregon,” the man who’d spoken before said.

  My eyes widened while Flynn’s scrunched in confusion. The man to his right struck out swift and sudden with a dart. My invention. The pointed end stuck in Flynn’s arm. He looked at it in shock, as if he couldn’t entirely process what happened.

  “What did you do?” he asked, looking at me instead of the man who had stabbed them.

  I cringed when he began to sway on his feet. When he fell, they caught him and hauled him off toward the west side of the forest. A few people watched but didn’t dare intervene. Not with that many men surrounding him. Flynn had a reputation, and people knew not to interfere with bounty hunter business, even if it looked like the hunter had become the hunted.

  After the two men departed and the surveillance team left, a shaky breath rattled my lungs. I leaned my forehead against the tree, the brown bark digging into the tender flesh. My palms were sweaty and my heartbeat erratic.

  Why hadn’t he told them I was here? He didn’t owe me anything.

  Had Flynn given me up, I’d be the one getting carted off to DMC territory instead of him. I needed to decide if hiding was more important than trying to help Flynn escape. The former sounded like a much better option, but Flynn had purposely lied to them for me. Damn him for making me feel obligated to save him. Realistically, I knew running would only work for so long. Now it was time to face the truth.

  Daman had found me. Not only that, he planned on using Flynn as bait. Curse him for knowing I wouldn’t let an innocent person suffer on my behalf. The vile man knew me too well. I had to save Flynn, even if it meant going back to the one place I swore I’d never go again.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Bron, can we talk?” Much to my surprise, I’d found him kneeling in the garden tending to the vegetables I had planted. He hadn’t asked for permission, so why was he covered in mud messing with my garden? If he had intended on helping me, he should have asked. My mother always said caring for another person’s plants without permission was a cardinal sin.

  He sat back on his heels, turning to face me. A piece of jet-black hair fell into his eyes and a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. Goddess, how did he make sweating look so good? It really wasn’t fair for one person to be so attractive.

  “Are you going to yell at me?” he asked, lips twitching.

  My hands rested on my hips. “You’re in my garden.”

  “Technically,” he said with a full smile, “this is my garden.”

  I waved my hand. “Semantics. I planted those. Why are you messing with them?”

  “I’m not sure what pests you’ve got over in the valley, but here we have these nasty things called squash bugs.”

  I scowled. “I know what squash bugs are.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Then why have they ruined half of your plants already?”

  “What?” I asked, my voice rising with concern. I knelt down, nudging him out of the way. True to what he’d said, half of what I’d planted was destroyed by stupid little bugs.

  “Fucking bugs.” I smacked the ground with my palm.

  Bron chuckled. “I was picking the eggs off the leaves of the others, but I can stop.”

  I sat back, dropping my head down and letting out a frustrated breath before looking him in the eyes.

  “Let me help you. They are my plants, after all.”

  He gave me a smile, one that nearly stopped my heart. How such a handsome man managed to be so infuriating was beyond me. Though him saving my plants did make me despise him a little less. The undeniable pull of attraction I felt whenever he was near beat down my defenses as well as we worked together.

  We plucked the eggs and bugs off the leaves. Our arms brushed occasionally, making me hyper-aware of how close he was, how his biceps and forearms were corded with muscle and flexed when he moved, and how even drenched in sweat he smelled wonderful. Like freshly fallen rain.

  “What did you want to talk about?” he asked when we were almost done.

  “Oh.” I had forgotten all about Flynn when I heard squash bugs. “I might need your help.”

  “Might?” He laughed, brushing his hands on his pants to clean them off. “What might you need me for?”

  I gave him a look. “Please don’t make this more awkward for me.”

  Returning my appraising look with one of his own, he nodded. “All right. I’m listening.”

  Thirty minutes later, with no interruptions from Bron, I’d finished my story.

  “Deep Magic Crew?” Bron asked. The skin between his brows wrinkled with his confusion.

  “They go by DMC and they aren’t people to mess around with. They work almost exclusively with deep magic, and nothing good ever comes from it.”

  “How did you meet them?” His eyes turned wary.

  I glanced away from him, grinding my teeth together. “That part isn’t important. I can tell you they use deep magic to hoard power. The full moon is in ten days and that’s when they’ll complete the ritual. We have to get Flynn before then.”

  Memories of flashing purple magic assaulted me. The skin on my back tingled in remembrance of the torture the DMC had put me through. All to get magic that no longer existed, no thanks to my brother.

  She has magic. I can feel it in her blood, it resonates within her bones, the crazed leader Daman had said, standing over me, body shaking with anger. He had been trying to siphon my magic. Too bad my brother had stripped me of mine just days before, leaving only an echo of my former power. They had yet to understand what happened that day deep magic flared and caught their attention.

  “I don’t understand why they took Flynn,” Bron said, interrupting the unpleasant memory.

  “Neither do I, but they did and it’s my fault.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “What do they do with the extra power?”

  I tossed my hands up in frustration. The what and why didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was getting Flynn back before the moon completed its cycle and the DMC stole his magic.

  “Why does anyone want power?” I asked, shaking my head. “To control things. People. Cities. All the land. Is it really necessary to know how or why they do it? We should be making plans to get Flynn back, not trying to understand the insanity of it all.”

  He rubbed his jaw.

  When he didn’t respond, I said, “Forget it. Noah and Corban will come with me.”

  “I never said I wouldn’t help you.”

  “Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

  He stood, crossing the room and placing his hands on my arms. I scowled at him for taking such liberties but didn’t ask him to stop
.

  “I’m sorry. Knowing as much as I can is how I plan. You may know all about these people but I don’t. Can you blame me for asking questions?”

  I sighed, my face softening, and glanced at the floor. “No.”

  “These people mean something to you?”

  My head reared back. “They mean nothing to me.” My words were cold as steel on a chilly winter night.

  “Why?” His eyes searched mine. I turned away, not trusting myself. He had a way of making me talk and I still didn’t trust him enough to believe he wouldn’t use magic to dig around my mind again.

  He let out a frustrated breath. “All right then, keep your secrets. But someday I hope you’ll trust me enough to tell me.”

  “Removing a few bugs from my plants doesn’t erase the fact that you used your magic to poke around in my memories.”

  Shame flickered across his face before he grimaced. “I suppose not. To be fair, you used your little magic tools on me.”

  Touché.

  “So, you’ll help me?”

  “I was always going to help you.”

  My lips pursed in annoyance. He tapped me on my nose, chuckling when I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “You’re lucky I need your help. Otherwise, I’d stab you.”

  “I love it when you talk dirty to me like that.”

  My fist hit his stomach—not as hard as it could have; I held back since I liked the asshole—and he let out a hiss of breath. His dark eyes glinted with the promise of retribution, mouth curling into a menacing smile that made my stomach flutter.

  What kind of delusional fool liked the strong, silent, scary—might/probably definitely will hurt you when you aren’t looking—type?

  Me. That’s who. I knew he wouldn’t really hurt me, though, at least not in a permanent way. After all, I had just sucker-punched him. Goddess, if I wasn’t already disowned, my mother would surely disown me for knowing I was excited about being on the receiving end of Bron’s vengeance.

  “You’ll pay for that.”

  “Not until we find Flynn.” I pushed him back with my palm on his chest, ignoring the inconvenient warmth blooming in my stomach.

  He glanced down at my hand, smirking at it. “After we find him then.”

  He sounded all too sure of himself and it made me feel a bit out of my depth, like I was about to be overwhelmed by what I’d just started.

  “Right then, let’s go.”

  He chuckled when my throat bobbed with a nervous swallow, watching me like a predator excited at the thought of toying with his prey. To be honest, the idea of being caught in his snare was all too alluring. Regardless of what my traitorous mind and body wanted, Flynn came first. Bron would have to wait.

  Bron insisted Kace join us instead of Noah or Corban. His tracking skills were unmatched, at least according to Bron. Aloof as he remained, I had yet to get to know him, but I’d take skill over comfort any day when it came to dealing with the DMC.

  I had just finished bathing and dressing in my signature shorts and tank top when I heard a knock on the door. With a towel still wrapped around my hair, I opened it.

  “What’s up?” I asked Noah.

  His mouth tilted down. “I’m not sure it is safe to go after the DMC.”

  “You’ve heard of them?” I raised an eyebrow.

  He shook his head in a noncommittal sort of way, avoiding the question and glancing down at his feet. “Does the DMC have something to do with your fear of lightning?”

  My breath caught in my throat.

  “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he said, kindly giving me an opportunity to take the easy out. I shouldn’t respond. Little by little they were gathering the pieces of my story. I didn’t think I’d be able to look them in the eyes once they knew the full truth.

  “They are part of the reason,” I said, ignoring the warning bells in my head.

  “And the other?” he asked. The dark, assessing gaze he gave unnerved me.

  “A story for a different day.”

  He nodded, as though he expected me not to answer. His right hand reached back into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out an exquisite dagger with a jade pommel and a leather thigh sheath.

  “Are those for me?” I eyed the expensive-looking weapon.

  He smiled. “It never hurts to be prepared.”

  My fingers hovered over the weapon for a fraction of a second before they greedily wrapped around it. Testing the blade, I ran a finger up the side, not bothering to hide my smile when I felt it slice into the top layer of skin. Sharp, beautiful, and ready to kill.

  “I also thought it would complement your darts.”

  I laughed. “A thigh holster and sheath. Now I’ll really look badass.”

  His gaze ran the length of my body. “You’ve always looked badass.” When his eyes met mine, something akin to hunger lurked within the depths of his.

  “Thank you.” I grabbed the thigh sheath from him before he could see my reaction. “I have to finish getting ready.”

  “Let me know if you need help with strapping it on,” he said as I closed the door. Groaning in frustration, I leaned my head against the wood. Who knew Noah had it in him to be so forward? These men were messing with my sanity. Thankfully saving Flynn would distract me from figuring out what to do about them.

  My fingers brushed over my weapons, double-checking they were secure before leaving the bathroom. Lumi, the dagger, my darts and shooter, the magically enhanced metal link whip, the leather whip, some homemade vials of poison, and a few restraints were all in place.

  I pulled my hair up into a short ponytail, securing the shorter strands with pins. The woman staring back at me in the mirror looked ready to take on the world, appearing much more confident than I felt on the inside. Getting into the DMC stronghold wouldn’t be easy. Not to mention that the inevitable confrontation when we arrived and helped Flynn escape left me feeling jittery.

  When I opened the door to leave the bathroom, Erik stood in the hallway. Smiling, as usual.

  I scowled at him jokingly. “Erik,” I said, with mock severity.

  “Winter,” he said, using the same tone.

  I smiled. “What are you doing standing out here? It’s kind of creepy.”

  “Well, I came to give you a present before you left, but if you’re going to give me attitude . . .” He trailed off, turning to leave.

  I grabbed his arm to stop him. “I like presents.”

  He chuckled. “You like gifts from creepy men? Are you sure you aren’t insane?”

  My hands went up. “I never made claims about the state of my sanity. What did you get me?”

  He tilted his head, scrunching his nose at me. “You’re so demanding.”

  I sighed, rolling my eyes before stepping closer to him and looking up at him through my lashes. “Will you please let me see my present?” I asked, voice as sweet as pie.

  “I hate when you do that, it isn’t fair.” He handed me a pair of fingerless gloves. I stared at them in surprise. He remembered.

  “So you don’t ruin those pretty hands of yours.”

  I hugged him, not able to form words to show my gratitude. After my bout with the assassin, my hands had been shredded. When the guys found me in their cottage, most of the injuries had scabbed over. He must have seen them when Bron healed me.

  His arms enveloped me and he rested his head on top of mine.

  “You’re welcome.” He sounded a bit too self-satisfied.

  When we entered the living room, six pairs of eyes ran over my outfit, flicking over the various weapons strapped to my hip and thighs. I placed a hand on my hip and raised a brow at them. Bron scowled at the darts.

  “Ready?” I asked him, glancing to Kace, the one I’d interacted with the least.

  “Whenever you are,” he said.

  Sloan stood from his spot on the couch, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a small package. I waited for him to hand it to Bron, but he surprised me by walking
over and giving it to me. The package was warm and smelled like freshly baked blueberry muffins.

  “Sammie?”

  Sloan’s mouth twitched. “No. I made them. There is also some dried meat.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, casting my eyes down. Three gifts from men who up until last week had wanted me gone. What did it mean? Did they want me to stay? Were they each trying to win me over?

  Corban swept me up into a suffocating hug. I patted his shoulder because he seemed to need the reassurance.

  “I guess you’ll have to cuddle with Erik while I’m gone.”

  He pouted his lips. “He isn’t nearly as soft as you are.”

  “You’ll survive.” I went on my toes and kissed his cheek. “Save some for me,” I whispered into his ear. His fingers tightened on my hips in answer.

  “Can we go now?” Irritation laced Bron’s words. His face scrunched with anger.

  “Aww, I think he is jealous,” Erik said, dodging a flash of magic Bron threw at him.

  My lips pulled together. Could he really be jealous? Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I ignored them. Never before had so many men shown an interest in me. Frankly, it was weird as shit. Shawn and Kace hadn’t shown any interest; perhaps I should spend more time with them to avoid encouraging the others. I didn’t want to become something they fought over.

  “Let’s go.” I grabbed Bron’s arm and turned, taking him with me. He stiffened at my touch but relaxed once we exited the house with Kace, leaving whatever that awkwardness was behind. Once in the forest, I began to pull away but his hand clamped over mine, holding me in place.

  “I can’t walk like this the whole way,” I said with a laugh.