Huntress

Home > Other > Huntress > Page 26
Huntress Page 26

by Elizabeth Hartwell


  “I will,” I promise him, watching as he withdraws his hand, his finger glistening with my juices. He sucks it into his mouth, moaning in ecstasy as my musk fills his memory, and his hips twitch twice in his chair, not quite coming in his pants but damn near. “Didn’t know I was that good.”

  “You’re the best,” he whispers before clearing his throat, remembering that time’s started again. “Yeah, anyway, it was freaky. I just had enough time to see the rockets coming for the tower. I started to time stop just as they exploded. I got hit with a lot of the heat, which is how the flash burns were so bad.”

  “You could feel the heat?” I ask, and he nods.

  “In time stop, I feel everything. If it’s windy, I feel the wind at the moment I stop like a constant pressure against my skin. If it’s cold, I feel the chill. And with a flash heat of six hundred degrees in my face . . . well, I had just enough energy to get out of there and halfway down the stairs before the whole thing blew up on me. Still, it knocked me out for a few minutes, or else I would have jumped into the fight a little earlier.”

  “Well, you saved me. I’ll never forget it,” I promise him. “You’re a good man, Lance.”

  “Now I know you got a concussion,” he replies, smirking with that dimple showing again. “Thinking I’m a decent guy.”

  “I didn’t say decent . . . I said good,” I correct him. “Don’t make me get strict on you.”

  “If you’re going to be strict on anyone, it’s gonna be me,” he says, making me laugh as he waggles his eyebrows. “Hey, I’m going to head down to talk to the guys. Got anything you want me to tell them?”

  “Yeah, ask Tym how he’s even thinking of staying in the same room as Brandon with a room available,” I joke. “Seriously, how have those two not killed each other after this?”

  “Gay sex,” Lance immediately replies, making me laugh out loud even as the sexy thought of those two studs sixty-nining makes my already wet pussy gush again. “Should I try and arrange a demonstration?”

  “I doubt that’ll be necessary,” a tight, aristocratic voice comes from the doorway, and both of us look over to see Crassus standing there, his face suspicious. “Cerena, I came by to see how you were doing. And you are, sir?”

  “Definitely not a sir,” Lance replies, chuckling. Ignoring Crassus, he looks over at me. “Okay, I’ll tell the guys to come see you when they feel like getting out of bed. Or you can pay them a visit. They’re decent—well, Tym is. You know how noble and shit he gets. You take care of yourself, okay, Cerena?”

  “I’m sure Cerena will be just fine,” Crassus says, stepping further into the room with a tight threat in his eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse us, sir.”

  “Yup, I’m going,” Lance says before stopping time again and quickly kissing me. I kiss him back, and he stands up as time starts again and he retreats. At the door, he pauses, looking at Crassus’s back and pointing at his ass, or most likely his cock, and holding up his hands about two inches apart and mouthing, “Tiny, tiny cock, huh?”

  I nod, and he grins before ducking out the door, leaving a very confused Crassus behind. He waits until the door closes, his face written in that look I’ve become familiar with. He’s pissed and doesn’t like the fact that he’s pissed.

  “Are you done making me look like a fool?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Laughing at me? Let me guess, you two were scheming.”

  “What I was discussing with Lance is none of your business,” I tell Crassus, sitting up in my bed. “Considering it’s been three days since I’ve come back and this is your first visit here, you don’t have a lot of room to complain about anything, Crassus.”

  “I was busy!” he growls. “I thought, based on the nurse’s advice, that I’d give you a little time. While you were back here recovering, I was cleaning up the mess left over by that battle. I just got back into the city last night.”

  “And how is the village?” I ask. “Did you get Lucian?”

  “No. He got away,” Crassus says, sounding not too upset over the fact. “The town’s got a lot of damage, but the construction crews are out already, and they’ll have everything rebuilt within a month.”

  “That’s good. Those people didn’t ask to become victims of a crossfire, and they didn’t deserve to have their town destroyed.”

  “I’m sure the Outlanders were so helpful in the defense of their homes,” Crassus sneers, pissing me off. “What? I can see you disagree?”

  “Those people weren’t prepared for a fight, certainly not against three dozen werewolves. Considering that those people feed us, I’d drop the fucking attitude, Crassus.”

  Crassus’s fist clenches against his chest, and he shakes his head. “You’ve been out too long, too much. You need to let go of the mission.”

  “Hate to tell you, but after I’m healthy, I’m strapping back up and heading back out,” I reply. “I went face to face and sword to sword with the son of a bitch who killed both of my parents, Crassus. Remember, your two teammates whom you told me you grieved over?”

  “I have not forgotten your mother or father!” Crassus yells, his eyes blazing. “How dare you accuse me of not honoring them! I’ve honored them every day since your father bled to death in my arms! I’ve protected you, I’ve honored their memories, and yes, I fell in love with you! Now it’s time for you to honor me!”

  “Honor you?” I seethe, my anger getting the better of me. “Crassus, you’re over twice my age, and you’ve known me since I was in diapers. How is that supposed to be the foundation of a fucking marriage?”

  “You didn’t feel that way when I took your maidenhood!”

  I laugh, leaning back. “Crassus . . . you’re good-looking, you’ve got good DNA, and you’ve taken care of yourself. But you and I are different people.”

  “You made me a promise,” Crassus says, his voice quaking with intensity. “You swore before me, you swore before Edward, that you’d become my wife. I’ve let you hold me at an arm’s distance for years since then, hoping to do this the romantic way and have you come to me. But you aren’t, and I’m tired of it. You made a promise, Cerena. It’s beyond time that you honored it.”

  “And what, lie down so you can fill my womb with a couple of little pure-strand-DNA Hunter babies?” I mock him, doing everything I can to hold back the truth. All the lies we’ve both been filled with, that somehow our pure DNA was better than all the outsiders’, that we . . . all bullshit.

  But I promised Elizabeth, and while my faith in a lot of what I’ve built my life around is shaken, she’s been honorable to me, and I intend to honor my promise to her as well.

  “What’s so bad about having children?” Crassus asks me. “We’re a good match.”

  “There’s more to a good match than just what a DNA computer tells you,” I answer, forcing my voice to remain calm. “What about love, Crassus? What about a connection that goes beyond just the ability to get it up for your partner and the idea that you can have an actual partner, not just a . . . a bedmate and a spouse?”

  Crassus snorts. “Not every marriage is like what your parents had, Cerena. I’d hoped for a long time that you and I could have something like that, but I see I was wrong. But I don’t care. We’re a good match, and it’s time you did your duty and honored your promise. When the Elder returns, I will inform her that you will be going on hiatus from the Hunter ranks . . . and you will become a good wife.”

  “No.”

  He blinks, like the word doesn’t even register to him for a moment, and when it does, his face somehow tightens and sags simultaneously. “What?”

  “I said no,” I repeat, getting out of bed and squaring my shoulders with him, even if I’m wearing only a ridiculous hospital robe, a bit of my own excitement still moistening my inner thighs from Lance’s fingering. I don’t care. I’m not going to sit here and take this shit from Crassus any longer. “This mission taught me something, Crassus. It taught me that I’m more than just your charity case, that I’
m some malcontent who can only run solo missions because I don’t play well with others. Well, guess what? I do play well with others. I’m badass, I’m lethal, I’m skilled, and I play fantastically with others. I just don’t play well with you.”

  Crassus glances over his shoulder, then back at me. “I thought I smelled it in the air when I came in. You fucked him, didn’t you? Took a little walk on the wild side?”

  “Damn right, I did,” I declare heatedly, my temper getting the better of me. I’m not ashamed though. “And it was good. Damn good.”

  “So you’re willing to throw it all away because of a little action with some Outlander?” Crassus says, sniffing. “God, I can almost smell your filthy cunt from here.”

  I laugh, knowing I’ve won. To Crassus, ‘cunt’ is just about the filthiest word that exists in his mind. “Oh, I’m sure you can. But Lance is a better lover than you’ll ever be, Crassus. One time with him was better than both times we were ever together. Same could be said for Tym and Brandon, too. The whole time on that mission, the only time I thought of you was to compare you to them . . . and find that you came up very, very lacking.”

  Crassus raises his hand, like he’s about to hit me, but something in my eyes or maybe something inside him stops him. “Go ahead, Crassus,” I whisper, not raising my hands at all. “Go ahead, hit me. I dare you. Show me I’m right to invoke my rights. Prove to yourself that not only are you not worthy to be my husband, but you’re so insecure that you let a trio of Outlanders turn you insane with jealousy. Of course, if you do, I’ll just let it be known that you’re just some beta cuck. I’m sure they’ll love that down in the training grounds.”

  What are these words coming out of my mouth? First, I’m channeling Lance’s teasing, now Brandon’s vicious taunts? Give me a hammer, and I’ll have a trifecta.

  Crassus’s hand trembles but eventually falls. “Your actions on the mission are a severe violation of Hunter protocol,” he says, backing away from me. “I was willing to overlook them before, on this and other missions . . . but you have given me no choice. Be prepared after your release from the clinic to have to answer for your actions to the Headmistress.”

  “Go ahead and tell her,” I reply, watching him retreat. “It doesn’t matter what you do. It doesn’t matter who you try and put against me, Crassus. You’re not going to get me back. I’m my own woman now, Crassus, and nothing you’re going to do will stop that.”

  Crassus stops at the door, looking back at me with a mix of anger, pain, sadness, and hurt on his face. For a long moment, I stare back at him, and he looks like he wants to say something, but instead, he opens the door and walks out, closing it behind him.

  After he’s left, I collapse down into my bed again, knowing I’ve done something stupid . . . but for some reason, being stupid has never felt so right.

  Chapter 32

  Brandon

  “So, what are your limits?”

  Tym, who’s sitting up in bed with his arm still in a sling, shrugs. “I’ve never really tested myself. I mean, when I’m in control.”

  I lean back, looking at my left ankle and considering his words. My injury had luckily come at the end of the fight, literally in the final moments. I’d done a decent job of fighting off the circle of wolves that was hemming me in, trying to separate me from the others.

  It didn’t take me long to figure out what they were doing, working more to disable me than to actually take me out. They were toying with me, exhausting me.

  But I’d adjusted, fighting to preserve my energy while at the same time pulling more and more of the werewolves toward me. I figured that the more of them I could tie up, the better the chances were that Tym or Cerena would be able to inflict casualties. Lance coming out of the rubble was certainly the straw that tipped the scales in our favor, but it also distracted me, and at the end, I took a hit right in the ankle, just as the wolves were fleeing.

  One ruptured Achilles tendon and a couple of broken bones later, and here I am, sharing a room with Tym in what is very clearly the cleanest hospital I’ve ever seen.

  Hell, it’s the cleanest room I’ve ever seen. I’d say I’d be willing to eat lunch off the floor, but I’m pretty sure I’ve scrounged food off of much dirtier surfaces before.

  “Tym?” I ask, looking at the remains of my lunch, a grilled sandwich that tasted truly delicious. Yup, much, much better than anything I can remember before.

  “Yes, Brandon?” he asks, always calm and patient. I don’t know what it is about him, maybe just because of his need to control his temper, but he’s a lot easier to get along with than Lance or Cerena.

  “I’ve walked myself into another prisoner situation, haven’t I?” I ask, picking up the last bit of grilled crust and munching on it. “There are no shackles, but with this ankle, I’m not exactly getting up and walking out for a couple of days.”

  “I have dealt with many different groups and governments,” Tym says, wiping his mouth, “from the anarchists of Bane to the monarchists to the north, the tribalists of the winter stalkers, and even the south with their forced equality for all and inequality for everyone. None of them are perfect. None of them are that great.”

  “You’re not answering my question.”

  Tym nods, humming. “I guess what I’m saying is that while you may be in a restricted life here in Solace, I suspect you will find it better than what you could find in those other places, and certainly more than your apparent fate in Bane.”

  He’s got a point, but I still don’t like it. A prisoner, again. My whole life, I’ve been forced to submit, to live under the yoke of those stronger, who kept their boot on my neck and ground my face into the dirt in one way or another.

  Now I’m in Solace, and while the boot might be cleaner, it’s still a boot. “Honestly, I’d rather have my freedom.”

  “That is quite hard, considering your potential,” Tym points out. “Even if you do not believe it yourself. Speaking of which, how is your memory?”

  “Most of the way back,” I reply, thinking back over what I do know. “The autodoc apparently diagnosed my issue. That vampire attack apparently irritated some sort of benign cyst in my brain, or at least that’s what the gadget said. When I was attacked, it got inflamed, which was causing most of my memory loss. They repaired it, and now I guess I’m normal. I can’t tell you the name of my school teacher, but that’s because I grew up in Bane.”

  Tym chuckles. “Where there are no schools other than the streets.”

  “So, where exactly are you from, anyway?” I ask, leaning back. “You obviously know Bane, but in your talk, you describe a lot—”

  My words are cut off as Cerena comes in, dressed casually in a black shirt and pants but still looking a lot better than anything I’ve seen over the past few days. After our combative fucking on the rocks, where I know I made her scream my name even as I was groaning hers, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about her.

  She fought with passion, and in the few glances I got of her during the fight, she was a battle angel, her hair flying and her swords flashing in the dim light. Outnumbered, outgunned, she fought with the passion and skill of an avenging spirit, crippling werewolves and killing others. Even after Lucian himself got involved, he could only wound her, and she more than gave him a receipt.

  I was in awe of her, and even now, as she crosses the room to Tym’s side, taking his hand and giving it a friendly squeeze, I’m a little jealous. “Hey, guys, I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “Not as well as you,” Tym says, looking at her admiringly. I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that I know she and Tym have fucked, but I can’t fault his taking a look. “You have almost no limp at all.”

  “It’s mostly a tingling. It sort of goes from my waist to my knee,” Cerena admits before giggling. “Don’t tell Lance. He’ll make some wisecrack about my ass needing a massage.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” I interject, and she turns, her eyes flashing before she no
ds, going along with the joke. “I mean, I am the one with two good hands. Sorry, Tym, you’re out of luck.”

  Cerena’s smile falters a little, but she still keeps it on as she shakes her head. “Sorry Bran, but I think I’ll take care of my own ass. But thanks for the offer.”

  “No problem . . . but please, don’t call me that.”

  “What?” Cerena asks, and then her mouth drops open in comprehension. “Oh, gotcha. Sorry, Brandon.”

  Her apology actually means something to me, and I find myself nodding back, smiling. “Of course, Cerena. Thank you for visiting.”

  “Well, I was just down the hall,” she reminds us before quieting. There’s obviously something on her mind, and she turns to Tym. “Uhm, I wanted to come by and say thank you, to both of you, for that last fight. You both fought your asses off, and I couldn’t have asked for a better pair of warriors to share the battlefield with.”

  I nod, knowing she’s got more to say. Tym pats Cerena on the shoulder, his hand nearly dwarfing her shoulder as he does. “Cerena, it was an honor and a pleasure to work with you.”

  “You too, Tym,” she says, reaching up and taking his hand again. “I really hope you get what you want and that I can stop by your shop in Solace. You do still plan on that, right?”

  Tym nods. “Yesterday, I went over to the office. They have the paperwork all completed. They should bring by my visa this afternoon.”

  “That’s good,” she says, her voice still heavy with emotion. Something’s going on in her head, and when she pats his hand again, her smile’s not quite reaching her eyes.

  “Cerena, what is it?” I ask suddenly, curious. “You look . . . troubled.”

  Cerena turns to me, nodding a little before shrugging. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, guys. Just some personal issues.”

 

‹ Prev