Hunter Forsaken (Wild Hunt #2) (17 page)

Ian brought his legs up and pushed against the heavier man, stopping him from ripping out his throat. Craig growled and dug his talon-tipped fingers into Ian’s sides. Ian groaned, hating the sound of weakness but unable to stop it. The redcap had pierced Ian’s lungs. Sharp pain seized him. He struggled to hold Craig back.

More roars mixed with the growls of his hounds. Ian cut a sharp look in the direction of the sound. Dozens of badly nourished sluaghs spilled from the surrounding woods. Malformed with elongated limbs and saggy gray skin, they resembled the walking dead. They fed like them too, and they all converged on Trevor.

“No!” Ian yelled.

Craig’s hot breath bathed Ian’s neck a moment before he bit. Shooting pain whipped through Ian. He ignored it and rammed his fist into Craig’s face before he could tear out a chunk of Ian’s flesh. The sound of bone shattering added to the redcap’s scream. Ian shoved him off. He would’ve taken Craig’s head, but concern over Trevor directed him.

Ian closed the distance between him and Trevor. Ian willed his blade to appear and slashed at the nearest sluagh. It fell. Another replaced it. He brought his blade down in an arc, gutting the creature. Its rotten insides spilled out. The stench choked him. He held his breath and kicked it aside.

“Let him go!”

Ian jerked his head toward Allie’s bellow. She tugged on Trevor’s wrists while a pasty teen yanked on his calf.

“Allie, don’t!”

She froze and stared at Ian with frightened eyes.

“You can’t pull him in. He’ll be trapped like you are.”

If it was possible, her eyes widened more. She released Trevor and lunged for the sluagh. She hit an invisible barrier, preventing her from escaping, and shrieked. She bounced back, a hand covering her bloody nose.

Ian shoved the sluaghs out of his way.

Craig beat him to the ring.

He grabbed Trevor’s legs and tossed him inside the circle. A whoosh of rain-scented air swept out, and both Trevor and Allie disappeared.

Ian dove at Craig, knocking him away from the mushrooms. They rolled across the ground. Stones and sharp twigs tore at their skin. Blood soaked them. Ian dug his nails into the redcap while Craig ripped at Ian’s back with his claws. On a grunt, Ian rolled them, pinning Craig. He recalled his blade and shifted his hold on the handle to impale him. Before he could, three sluaghs tackled Ian, knocking him off the redcap.

They were no match for Ian, not with the strength of the Hunt behind him. Within moments, he took their heads. Their souls rushed out of the husks they’d been confined to and floated on the breeze above his head. They’d have to be collected and given peace, but he had to deal with Craig first.

Ian pivoted and scanned the woods. Instead of Craig, he found close to two dozen sluaghs, all pathetically malnourished. Craig had been starving them, exactly as Raul had been doing to his sluaghs. Ian acknowledged the similarity and dismissed it in the next breath. They still needed to be cut down and given peace.

As they shuffled forward, Ian raised his blade and met them head-on. They fell, one by one, until only their lost souls remained. Ian stood in the middle of the dark valley, chest heaving and rage choking him. He’d failed. Trevor and Allie were gone. So was the redcap. Sure, Ian could go after him. He might find him. Craig couldn’t have gotten far, but Ian had a duty to the unfortunate victims who whispered their thanks in his ear. Only he could give them peace. No other Huntsmen were close.

Ian sent Larry, Mo and Curly into the woods. Hopefully, they’d find Craig. It was the best Ian could do.

He turned his back on the hounds, opened the portal to Hell and called forth his horse, Doubt, to collect the sluaghs’ souls. The irony of his steed’s name hit him. Arawn had named all the horses in the Hunt. Ian had assumed his had been given that name because the Lord of the Underworld mistrusted Ian. He wondered for the first time if it didn’t mean more.

Doubt.

It’d be the death of him. If he could actually die permanently, anyway.

He shook off the disturbing thought and patted Doubt’s flank when it trotted over. They had a job to do before he could return to Tegan: release the souls into the fields surrounding the Huntsmen’s fortress in Hell.

When he did see her again, he had his work cut out for him. He had to win her trust. He’d need it. If Calan refused to go after Trevor and Allie, Ian would. One way or the other, he was getting into the fairy realm and saving them. Tegan would have to get him out. He’d proved it was possible.

He reopened the portal and stepped through. Arawn waited for him, legs spread and fists clenched at his sides. Anger tightened the god’s features. Any number of reasons might’ve caused it—he’d found out about Ian’s mating to Tegan, discovered Ian was an incubus, or that Ian was his mate’s kid. Ian hoped for the first. An angry dad he could handle. A god bent on punishing him for being born, he couldn’t.

Ian slapped Doubt’s back, sending the horse forward. “Arawn.”

The god looked him over and focused on his dual-colored eyes. “You mated her.”

Ian nodded. “Yes, I love Tegan.”

Arawn snarled. Black leathery skin overtook his body. His back arched, his spine extended, and wings burst from his taller frame. “Lies. Incubuses don’t love.”

Ian silently cursed. At least he knew the reason for the confrontation, not that he could do a damn thing about it. He had no control over his heritage. “How did you find out?”

Arawn grinned. The smile distorted his elongated face. He looked like a Huntsman on steroids, only with the power of Hell at his fingertips and no qualms over using it to suit his needs. “From Tegan, of course.”

No.
Ian stumbled back. The sense of betrayal overwhelmed him. He shoved it aside. She’d professed her love for him. He wouldn’t doubt her. “You lie. Tegan loves me.”

“My foolish daughter only wanted to meet the Triad’s challenge. She made a mistake.” Arawn approached, talons extended and murder on his face. “I will save her from it.”

Arawn leaned over him. Ian tipped his head to hold his gaze. He refused to cower. “You can’t. She’s my mate, bound to me for eternity.”

“She will cut her bond to you. I will see to it. Do you think I stupidly gave Calan all the angel’s tears I’d collected to sever a mate bond?” Arawn sneered. “I’d saved some for myself, but I will give them to my daughter instead. I’d rather suffer than see her cry over you.”

Ian’s heart raced. “One chance at love. She gave me hers. You take it away, and she’ll be alone forever.”

“Better alone than with one such as you. I know my child. She will become enraged the first time you cheat on her. She’ll embrace the Hunt, lose herself to its power, and I will once more have to restrain her because of it.”

Arawn wrapped a clawed hand around Ian’s throat. The sharp points dented his skin but didn’t cut him. The promise of pain hovered between them, however.

Ian considered fighting back, but it’d only make the situation worse. For the moment, he couldn’t die permanently. If the god succeeded in carrying out his threat, that would change in a heartbeat. Without a tie to Tegan, he was a demigod trapped in a mortal body. What that meant, he had no idea. He didn’t want to find out either.

“I won’t cheat on her.” Ian let the god see the truth in his eyes. “That is my vow. I gave it to her and now you.”

Arawn tightened his grip. Warm blood trickled down Ian’s throat. “Promises can be broken, and love isn’t forever. It’s an illusion.”

“It’s a commitment, one that needs to be treasured and valued.”

Arawn dug the sharpened nails of his other hand into Ian’s chest, right over his Huntsman’s mark. Ian’s heart raced, knowing what would happen and powerless to stop it.

“And one that all too often is tossed aside for a quick fuck.” Arawn leaned closer so his monstrous face filled Ian’s vision. “I won’t put my daughter through that. She was betrayed before. Your promise isn’t worth risking her sanity.”

“Why don’t you let her make that decision?” Because Ian was convinced he could keep Tegan happy and sated long enough to earn her trust.

“I must. Free will demands it.” Arawn shrugged. “But she will. Of that I have no doubt. And when she does, I’ll be free of my mate’s mistake once and for all.”

Arawn dug his hand into Ian’s chest at the same time that he tugged at the front of his neck. Pain whipped through Ian, stealing his breath, his life and his tie to the other Huntsmen. He felt the invisible cords connecting him to them snap. He tried to hold on to them—he’d grown attached to their presences in his mind—but he couldn’t. His horse, hounds and friends…

Gone.

Ian fell. Darkness spread over his vision, but he stretched out with his mind to the only person he had left.

“Tegan. Need you.”

Silence answered him. Whether she couldn’t hear him or refused their bond meant little. Death had arrived, and he’d meet it alone.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Tegan paced the length of the living room. Rhys watched her from where he leaned next to the patio door, one foot flat against the wall and arms crossed. His silent support gave her strength. She needed it. Guilt weighed heavily on her. She only prayed Ian understood why she’d betrayed his secret.

The note explaining her reasoning lay on his bed, unopened. The voice-mail messages and texts she’d left had gone unanswered. Nobody had seen him…or Rowan.

She’d been mated one day, and Ian had disappeared.
Along with my sister.
Tegan groaned. Dammit, she had no reason to suspect him of being with Rowan, but Tegan knew how easily affected Rowan was by the demons. She’d spent too many years in their beds.

Both she and Tegan had become addicted to them during their time in the Haven. Sure, they’d broken themselves of the habit by avoiding the demon’s sexual lair, but it’d be too easy to slip into the cycle again. For Tegan, it didn’t matter. She didn’t have to resist the lure when the incubus in question was her mate. Rowan, on the other hand, had many reasons why she couldn’t.

Tegan bit her lip and turned her attention to the spread of papers lying on the coffee table. The maps and redcap profiles scattered there hinted at a more likely scenario for Ian’s disappearance and one she desperately clung to. What it didn’t explain was why she couldn’t touch his mind. She’d tried several times.

She sensed him, but it was as if a veil hovered over him. She couldn’t break through it. Since she hadn’t tried to touch his mind before, she didn’t know if it was a new occurrence or a consequence of his tie to Lucas. She suspected the latter, though. A similar cloak shrouded his nature, hiding any traits of who he once was.

“Send the hounds out after him,” Rhys suggested.

She turned away, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes. “I’m not pulling the hounds away from their nightly hunt of the fairies’ creatures so they can search for my mate. I have no reason to believe he’s in danger.”

“Then call Calan. He’ll connect with him and find out what he’s doing.” Rhys dropped a booted foot to the ground. The thump echoed in the room. “Or who he’s with.”

She wanted to. Her fingers itched to pull her cell phone out of her pocket and dial Calan. It was the only way to reach him. Only he had the power to draw her mind to his. She resisted.

“Not yet. I’m trying not to jump to any conclusions.” She peered over her shoulder. “Trust, remember?”

“You’re failing at it.”

She lifted her hand. About double the length it had originally been, the jagged line mocked her. She curled her fingers. “I’m trying. It’s the best I can do.”

“No, it’s not.” He stepped in front of her and waited until she met his gaze. “You’re basing your reactions on your fears about who he’s with and if he can control himself. You need to focus on facts.” He motioned toward the scattered papers. “Why hasn’t he returned?”

She made her way to the coffee table and picked up the top sheet, a map. “Several areas are circled. I don’t—”

A sharp pain pierced her Huntsman’s mark. She gasped and pressed a hand against it. Rhys flinched too.

“Ian.” She closed her eyes. Guilt and fear stole her breath. “Arawn took the mark back.”

“I fear you’re right. I…”

Rhys’s words faded. For a moment, she shared Ian’s soul. Agony and a sense of betrayal washed over her.

Ian!
She tried to hold him close, but between one second and the next, his heart stopped.

Gone. He was gone.

No!
Black dots spread over her vision, and her knees gave out.

Rhys caught her before she hit the ground. “What happened?”

She blinked Rhys’s face into focus. “Arawn killed him.”

Rhys ripped the other glove from her hand. Her mate mark showed two circles. “Not permanently. You saved him.”

Tegan dragged in a shallow breath and tried to tamp down her anxiety. “I can’t feel him.”

“With his father being Lucas, I’m not surprised.”

“I know, but I need to—”

A familiar presence brushed her mind. Calan asked for entry. She pushed him back. Rhys could talk to him. She had to find Ian. See him. Touch him. Know he really was okay.

She ran for the door.

Rhys grabbed her hand. “Wait! I’ll come with you.”

“No.” She pointed to the coffee table. “Find out why he went to Hell. He had to have had a reason.” And the delivery of lost souls to the fields was the only one she could come up with.

She shrugged off Rhys’s hold and fled though the front door. Anger and fear churned within her, threatening to throw her into the rage that could consume her. She held it at bay for the moment. Ian’s safety came first, but then…

Then Arawn would pay for killing her mate.

With a wave of her hand, she opened a portal. Arawn stood on the other side. Her alternate form emerged without conscious thought. At the moment, he was her enemy. There was only one way to deal with him. She bared a mouthful of deadly teeth and charged him. With a swipe of her hand, she ripped him open. He stood still for the first blow, but then grabbed her upper arms and lifted her until they were face-to-face.

She struggled to break his hold. Arawn held her tighter. “Enough, daughter. Your lover lives.”

The mention of Ian stopped her useless thrashing. Arawn wouldn’t allow her freedom unless he wanted it anyway. She glared at him. “No thanks to you.”

“I had every right to take back what belonged to me.”

“And killing him?”

“The death he suffered was for keeping the truth from you.” He shrugged. “It was a fitting punishment for lying to my daughter.”

His nonchalant tone pushed her to the edge of her control. She growled. “Where is he? What have you done to my mate?”

Arawn set Tegan on her feet. “You mean the incubus you foolishly bound yourself to for eternity?”

“Where is Ian?” She wouldn’t play her sire’s game. He hurt. She got that. It had nothing to do with Ian, however. He hadn’t asked to be born.

Arawn shrugged. “Somewhere in the Underworld, maybe? As your mate, he has the right to access everything you do, or”—he flashed her a sardonic smile—“maybe he’s left Hell. He can traverse the realms, something his father wishes to do.” He tipped his head to the side. “Do you suppose it was Lucas’s plan all along to use Ian to carry out whatever he’s been brewing?”

“The Demon King’s strategies aren’t my concern at the moment. His son, the man I love, is.” She fisted her hands and took a step forward. “Where. Is. Ian.”

“You still insist on your love for him, even knowing what he is?”

“I completed my half of the bond after learning of it.”

Arawn snorted. “Because you knew I would banish him from our Teulu, so you thought to sacrifice your only chance at having a mate in order to ensure he doesn’t lose his immortality.”

Tegan let her gaze roam over the male in front of her. Father, tyrant, protector, commander—she hated him as much as she loved him, always had. He could be as cold and cruel as the humans portrayed him, or more righteous and noble than any of the gods. At the moment, he was simply a man lashing out at the world over the pain Minerva had caused him. It didn’t excuse his actions, no matter how much she understood his pain.

“I’m glad I did. Ian didn’t ask to be born.” She leaned close. “You punished him because you’re too weak to deal with your mate’s infidelity. He was an easy target.”

“And how will you deal with your mate’s infidelity, daughter?” Arawn raised a brow.

She didn’t have an answer and prayed she’d never have to come up with one. “Don’t concern yourself over my mating. Deal with your own.”

“He’ll be drawn to any person, male or female, who can satisfy his cravings. You’ve been around enough demons to know that.”

She reached inside herself, needing the reminder of Ian’s presence. She might not be able to connect their minds, but he was there, wrapped around her body and soul like a second skin. She stroked a mental finger over the silken evidence of their bond. The taste of cinnamon on her tongue infused her with strength.

“Where is he?” She asked a third time.

“Find him yourself.”

She nodded. “Fine. I will.”

He squeezed her shoulder before she could escape. “I can help you as I did Calan. I have enough angel’s tears left to sever your bond to Ian.”

“I have no intention of breaking my tie to him.”

Arawn shrugged. “You will. Return to me when you are ready, and I will save you from your mistake.”

She turned her back on him and fled down the corridor before the doubt he stirred took her over completely.

She would not forsake her mate.