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Authors: Denise Grover Swank

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Contemporary

Hunted (36 page)

BOOK: Hunted
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“Emma, don’t go out there. Stay here and let me help you.”

She shook her head and pushed open the door. “You helped me enough. No one can help me now.”

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

 

Goosebumps erupted on Emma’s arms from chill and fright. The wind picked up, swirling around her, her gown flapping around her legs. Thousands of stars twinkled over her head in the narrow gap between the trees. A feeling of dread crept over her.

She kept moving down the gravel road, the woods on either side of her silent. With any luck at all, she had imagined the noises before. She hoped that Will was closer than he thought.

Did she love him? Sophia told her that she would know. She could never ask for a better man than Will Davenport and he loved her unconditionally. Yet there was no denying the unstoppable pull to Raphael. It was as though he had cast her in a magic spell.

Emma nearly scoffed at the thought, then stopped. After every other crazy thing that had happened to her in the last month, it didn’t seem so crazy after all. The pull to him was almost magnetic. She found herself unable to resist, especially if he touched her. And every time she saw him, it grew stronger and stronger.

She didn’t even know what Raphael wanted from her, but she was sure he wanted something. Why would he keep showing up out of nowhere? If only she had the stone, maybe she could use its power to defend herself from him.

Goddamn James. He’d drugged her, handed her over to Kramer and stolen her pendant. The one tie to who she really was and what she was capable of. Her anger grew, mushrooming into a near explosive level. Then she felt it. The burn in her chest.

Her eyes widened at the possibility.

A noise in the trees startled her. Emma stopped turning her head to the sound. The wind died down and a voice floated on the remnants.

“Emma.” It was only one word, but it was laden with warmth and promise. And beckoning.

She froze, grabbing onto a tree for support as a cramp griped her lower abdomen. She shook her head, sure she had imagined the voice. Her pain eased and she straightened, her worry for the baby growing stronger. The man had kicked her in the stomach and she was sore. That was all.

She continued toward the main road, shadows creeping along the edges, moving with the breeze as though they beckoned. The wind lifted the hem of her nightgown, as though it played with her, taunting her. Her chest tightened. Her imagination had gone into overdrive.

“Emma.” The wind called again, warm and inviting. It pulled her into the trees.

She gripped the nearest trunk, clinging as her will fought against the pull that drew her. It was too strong, her curiosity too piqued to deny the call. Step by agonizing slow step, she walked toward the force that drew her, a roaring bonfire in a clearing in the forest. She stopped far enough away to feel its warmth without getting burned.

The cool, damp air clung to her skin contrasting with the heat of the blaze that warmed the front of her. Her breath came in shallow pants, her chest rising and falling while her heart beat savagely against her chest. An undercurrent of electricity flowed along the surface of her skin, causing a tingle that rippled across her body. She wasn’t frightened. She was more alive than she had ever been and she felt power, unimaginable power. Her excitement mingled with the electrical current, causing an unexpected pleasurable sensation to spread through her. She gasped in surprise and delight.

The fire called to her. Every part of her being shivered with anticipation. Emma felt a presence approach from behind. It lifted the hair off the side of her neck. A soft breeze blew and the leaves of the trees rustled, whispering in the night. Stray hairs tickled her face, leaving tiny electrical jolts in their wake. Warm, soft lips moved to her neck, kissing lightly and moving up to her ear. Warm breath fanned her damp skin and a slow burn began to ignite in her stomach. Emma tilted her head, looking up into the leaves of the trees above her before closing her eyes.

“You are not bound to destiny.” A warm, husky voice filled her ear as the lips that spoke the words kissed her neck below her ear lobe. Waves of pleasure washed through her. Every part of her yearned for more. She wanted what he offered. She wanted him. Only it wasn’t Will.

“We’re so close,” he said, his very breath pushing her closer and closer to ecstasy. “So very close.”

Her body agreed, straining for more. He circled in front of her and she knew who it was even before she saw him. Raphael.

His eyes glowed, feral and hungry. Raphael reached up, touching her cheek. The firelight danced on his face. “What have they done to you, my love?” His finger traced her cheekbone, electricity following in its wake. “Again, he hasn’t protected you.” His fingertip slid along her lower lip, hesitating at the fullest part. She inhaled and he smiled.

His hand slid down to her neck, his thumb tracing along her pulse point. Raphael’s face inched closer to hers until his breath mingled with her own. His mouth hovered over hers, so close that her lips ached with need.

His mouth touched hers, a whisper of a kiss, taunting her. She moaned and he smiled against her lower lip. “You want this too.” He nipped and she cried out again. His tongue licked her upper lip, then darted in finding her tongue. She froze as his tongue teased hers.

“Do you remember the words?” he murmured against her mouth.

She was lost. Lost in feelings and sensations, smoldering in the fire that swept her body. “No.”

He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling until her chest molded into his. His hand skimmed her shoulder with agonizing slowness up to her neck, his thumb tracing a line up to her ear. “You always liked this. Do you really not remember?”

His mouthed claimed hers with ferociousness, as though he could breathe the words into her. She clung to him overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations. His mouth moved to her ear as she panted for breath. “We’re so close now. Closer than we’ve ever been, my love. How can you not know the words?”

“Because it’s not her.” A man’s voice called out.

Raphael’s arm tightened around her waist and he hissed. “Alex.”

Emma’s eyes widened and she looked over her shoulder to see Alex standing on the other side of the fire. Passion swept away with the wind, leaving anger in its wake. She clenched her fists and pushed against Raphael’s chest, but his grip tightened.

“You’re a little late to the party, Alex. Emmanuella was about to choose me.”

The light of the bonfire accentuated the glint in his eyes. “It’s not her.”

Raphael jerked the nightgown down to reveal her shoulder blade and the marks embedded there. “This proves that it is.” He caressed her cheek seductively, and she found herself lost in him again. Raphael smiled in triumph. “And this proves it as well. She has never been able to resist me.”

“Maybe so, but it’s not your Emmanuella. She’s different.”

Raphael gripped Emma’s cheeks in his hand, looking into her eyes. “What makes you say that? She’s the same as always.”

“No, look deeper, Raphael. She’s similar but not the same. She fights harder. She resists us both more.”

Raphael laughed bitterly. “Of course, she does. That’s how she got this far this time. She’s a fighter.”

“No, Raphael. She’s different. When did you ever see her fall in love with the man sent to protect her?”

Raphael’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t love him. She cares for him, but love him?”

“She carries his child.”

“She carried your child too, you son of a bitch. That didn’t change anything, did it? Did you really think it would?”

“I hadn’t remembered at that point, but you and I both know we’re still drawn to her even before we remember.”

“You’re goddamned lucky that didn’t restart the whole thing.”

“Exactly. Why didn’t it?”

Raphael stood in stunned silence. Emma’s mind found a tiny foothold on sanity and pulled out of Raphael’s grip. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Raphael’s head whipped around to face her. “Do you really not remember?”

“Remember
what?

Raphael turned to Alex. “How can she not remember?”

“I keep telling you it’s not her.”

Emma backed up several steps. “
What the hell are you talking about?

Alex walked around the fire, keeping his gaze on her.

Raphael reached for her. “If you kill her this time, Alex. I will rip you apart with my bare hands. I haven’t gotten this close to lose her now.”

“No!” She held her hands up in front of her. “Stay away from me. I don’t know how you do that to me, but stay the hell away so I can think.”

“Emmanuella…” Raphael cooed, his hands reaching toward her, coaxing.

Alex moved toward her and she backed up another step. “Stay back, the both of you.”

“See?” Alex asked, turning an eye to Raphael. “Our Emmanuella is meeker. This one is a warrior. When I first met her, before I remembered who she was and who I was, she was like our Emmanuella, but she changed. When I met her a month ago and the memories returned, I knew it wasn’t her.”

Raphael looked crestfallen as he searched her face. “What does it mean?”

The air stilled before a voice broke the silence. “That everything has changed.”

They all turned to see a man standing on the other side of the fire.

“Aiden.” Both men spoke at the same time.

Emma’s heart skipped a beat. “My father?”

But the man before her couldn’t be her father. Tall, with a solid physique. Wavy brown hair covered his head. His face looked like a Renaissance painting, regal and cold. He looked far too young to be her father.

“Hello, Emmanuella. You’ve done well.”

Dizziness washed through her and she stumbled a step before catching herself. “Where the hell have you been for twenty-seven years?”

“Waiting for the right time.”

“Right time? Right fucking time for
what?

“What the hell is going on, Aiden?” Alex snarled. “She doesn’t remember anything. It’s not her, yet she has the marks. She has the power. Are you changing the rules of the game now? After all these centuries?”

Aiden shrugged and turned out his hands. “I’m bored. You all do almost exactly the same thing, time after time after time. She wants Raphael. You get angry and kill her before she can pick him. That is if you two even get that far. It was time to shake things up a bit. It’s time to end this.”

“About fucking damn time,” Alex said.

Aiden lifted an eyebrow, a bored look in his eyes. “I tried to help you out this time, Alex. I gave you an unfair advantage and sent you to her before you even knew who she really was. You had a chance to woo her and make her love you before her protector showed up. You could have won over Raphael this time but what did you do? In your human shortsightedness, you raped her and made her hate you even more.”

Raphael took a step toward Aiden, his hands clenched in fists at this side. “Why doesn’t she remember?” Torment and rage mixed in his words.

“Alex is correct. She isn’t the Emmanuella you know.”

A slow mournful wail filled the night air. “Why?” His torment carried on the wind, swirling around and filling her ears.

“Because time is running out for us. She loved you as much as you loved her. Alex never had a chance.”

Emma had had enough. “
What the hell is going on here?

Aiden looked at her and smiled, full of pride and arrogance. “You are my greatest creation yet.”

Raphael lifted his head to face Aiden. “Where is my Emmanuella?”

“Gone.” His tone was detached and cold.

Raphael fell to the ground, weeping. Emma’s chest filled with icy fear. Whatever was going on, she wanted no part of it. She took several steps backward, toward the trees.

“Not yet, Emma.” Aiden called to her. “We’re not finished.”

“You all are crazy.” She stood at the edge of the tree line.

“Not all of us, although Raphael seems to have temporarily lost control.”

“You haven’t told me what’s going on. What do I have to do with any of this?”

“You have everything to do with all of this. You are the
prize
.”

She looked from man to man, her eyes wide with fear and horror. “Prize?”

“The man you choose wins.”

“Have you lost your fucking mind? You can’t do that. It’s the twenty-first century, for God’s sake.”

Aiden laughed. “Oh, this started long, long ago before women had liberties and rights. Besides, you have all the power. You choose who wins or loses.”

“Wins or loses what?”

“Control, power. The world.”

“Do you work for Kramer and Senator Warren?”

Aiden laughed. “Now that is funny. No.” His face hardened. “They’re stupid humans. They’re minor players. My pawns.”

“They didn’t seem so minor when they tried to kidnap me and beat the crap out of me a short bit ago.”

Aiden shrugged. “They’re for my amusement. To add another dimension to the game.”

“It amuses you to see your daughter physically abused? And raped? And chased with guns? I gave up my entire life because of your little game.” she asked, incredulous. “You told the Vinco Potentia about me. You set all of that into motion. How can you live with yourself?”

BOOK: Hunted
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