Hunter's Blood Special Edition (Cursed by Blood Saga) (2 page)

“You didn’t even take the precaution
of telling anyone you were coming here. What if something happens?”

“Yes I did. You’ll know.”

“Considering the fact you’re the only
person who can see or hear me, that’s not such a great plan,” Terry replied.

Lily shrugged, shoving wooden stakes
into the side of her boot. She was hunting tonight, regardless of how much
Terry disapproved.

Loose bullets suddenly ricocheted past
Lily’s head, clattering against the wall. Narrowing her eyes, she shook her
head. “You know, if it weren’t for the fact my hand would pass right through
you, I’d punch you dead in the face right now.”

“Dead is the operative word, don’t you
think? Don’t go, Lil. I’ve got a terrible feeling about this in the pit of my
stomach.”

“First off, you haven’t got a stomach
anymore. Second, forget it. I’m going—and no, you cannot come with me, so you
can stop with the cheap parlor tricks!”

“Oh, I’m coming with you all right,
and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. I move decidedly differently from
you these days in case you’ve forgotten, and I can sense where you are and what
you’re doing at any time. So don’t piss me off!”

Lily smiled at her friend. Shade or
not, she was still the same old Terry, and Lily’s throat tightened even as her
heart ached once again. She cleared her throat. “If you’re coming then let’s
go, we’re wasting time.”

Picking up the last few things from
the table, she turned toward her friend, her car keys dangling from her
fingers. “Would you care to drive?”

“Funny, I always said you should have
been a comedian,” Terry answered dryly. Then without a word, she blew right
through her friend, leaving Lily shivering in a seventy degree room.

Lily rubbed her arms, grumbling before
shrugging into her leather jacket. “Always has to have the last word,” she
mumbled, snapping off the lights and closing the door behind her.

Chapter Two

***

L
ily pulled her
car to the side of the road and cut the engine. Except for the wind and the
distant echo of the waves crashing against the cliffs, it was silent. Mouth
tight, she closed her eyes, focusing all of her clairvoyance on the psychic
thread she’d been following for the last few miles.

Her senses were spread thin and taut
as trip wire in all directions, and the hair on her arms rose as her body
tensed. Looking down the deserted stretch of rural highway, she took note of
her position and where she was in conjunction to the thread pulsing in the wind
and decided to go on foot. “Showtime,” she whispered getting out of the car.

“Why are you parking so far away from
the perimeter?” Terry asked, materializing behind her.

Lily whirled into a defensive stance.
“Will you please stop doing that? It’s starting to creep me out!” she hissed
through her teeth, embarrassed at being caught unaware.

“Some psychic! Don’t you think it
would be wiser to park a little closer in case you need to get away in a hurry?
You can’t just dematerialize like me, you know.”

“
Shhh
, I know what I’m doing so
just hush up, okay? Don’t distract me anymore. If you’re going to be here, then
just hang around and be quiet. Why don’t you float to the top of a tree or
something? Just stay out of my way.”

Terry hmmphed but didn’t say another
word. She knew it was best to leave Lily alone—at least for now.

Quietly making her way across the
road, Lily trudged lightly through the scrub on the other side of the shoulder
and stopped, just inside the woods to check her weapons.

With a .45 caliber pistol shoved into
the waistband of her leather jeans, and a 9mm semi-automatic at the small of
her back, the feel of cold steel sent thrills shooting across her belly. The
same thrill of anticipation she always got before a hunt.

A crossbow was slung low across her
back, as well, and a silver-plated bowie knife and sharpened stakes were tucked
firmly into her boot. No matter what kind of supe crossed her path tonight, she
was ready.

Lily glanced at the sky. Its quiet
blackness reminded her of the weekend hunting trips she and Terry took as teens
with Terry’s dad. He had trained them well—regardless of how many times Terry’s
mom had balked at the idea, muttering how a girl’s weapon of choice should be
her charm and not a gun or a bow. Somehow, Lily knew tonight would be the one
exception to that rule.

It was dark and cold, but the
refracted moonlight coming through the clouds gave her just enough light. The
sky had been ominous all day, but the snow held, covering the ground with
barely an inch of fresh powder. The air held a lonesome quality, and the forest
was still, almost too still.

Squatting down, she sent her senses
out again, tracking the exact direction of the thread before heading deeper
into the woods. She opened herself up entirely, not wanting any more surprises
tonight.

The creature’s trace pulsed like a
neon sign in her mind, and she smirked. It was almost too easy. She moved
quickly, following the thrum through the dense forest and navigating trees and
brush like a familiar obstacle course.

As she rounded a wide thicket, she
caught a flicker on the edge of her mind. The feel of the new trace was
different, and its pulse loosely cloaked. She needed to investigate, but out
here she was too exposed. Ahead, low brambles twisted into a rough, barren
hedge, and she crouched down beside it for cover.

The trace’s cadence was human, but
not, and its feel was unquestionably male. He was headed southeast toward the
cliffs, the same direction as she. Lily exhaled, sending a quiet stream of
expletives into the wind. She’d be damned before allowing anyone or anything to
get in her way tonight.

With a cleansing breath, she focused
her senses and grabbed hold of the new pulse. She needed calm and absolute
stealth before merging her mind with his. A wave of vertigo hit as she made
contact, overwhelming her senses with the sensation of flight.

Lightness enveloped her, yet she
remained aware of her body’s position in the scrub below. Nausea crept up the
back of her throat, and she grimaced. The last thing she needed was motion
sickness when she was stock still. Perhaps this was some version of astral
projection, but whatever the feeling she needed to be the one in the driver’s
seat.

Lily scooped up a small handful of
fresh snow and wet her tongue. She swallowed back on her queasiness and
adjusted her focus, attuning herself to the peaks and valleys of the man’s
flight. Whoever this guy was, he was too intent on his target to distinguish
her presence. But what was he hunting?

She soared along with him above the
tree line and watched as he canvased the ground below. His distraction made it
easy for her to advance, and she crept further into his mind, allowing herself
to see through his eyes.

The outline of reflected body heat
from potential prey radiated in shades of red and blue from the ground below,
but it was clear his interest was elsewhere.

Either he doesn’t know I’m here, or he
does and just doesn’t consider me a threat. Maybe he’s just out for a joy ride,
and I’m imagining all this. No. Supes are never just out no good reason. He’s
hunting something…

A disgusted sound left her mouth and
she sat back on her heels, chewing on her lower lip. This was too much of a
coincidence for her not to be sure. She dug her fingers into the earth on
either side of her legs to ground herself, before dropping deeper into his
psyche. Her stomach clenched with the effort, her mind spinning from the
unaccustomed depth of her probe. Within seconds, a snarl reverberated up her
spine, and she shook under the weight of its menace. If he didn’t know she was
there before, he certainly knew it now.

Without warning, he reached out with
his own mind and seized control of their merge. His mental grip was like iron,
but effortless. Panic threatened as she struggled against his hold, gulping
down air while trying to stay calm enough to focus. What the hell was he?

His mind probed hers looking for the
same answers Lily had wanted from him. He stripped away layer after layer of
memory and thought, and she screamed at the violated feel.

Self-preservation kicked in, and she
slammed doors shut all over her mind. There was no way she would allow some
stranger to mind-rape her, even if she was the one guilty of trespassing,
first. She had to keep him out or risk him learning why she was in the woods
tonight.

The man exuded raw strength, and as
the sarcastic timbre of the words
‘nice try’
echoed through her mind,
she caught a glimpse of a slow, seductive and decidedly male grin.

Heat poured through her body, pooling
between her legs. Her breath caught in her throat, and she went weak, pitching
forward to land on her hands in the cold snow. She sucked in a breath and tried
to sit back, but another wave of desire hit her point blank.

Almost of their own volition, her
hands trailed the length of her thighs, grazing her sex through her leather
pants. The friction nearly sent her over the edge. As she struggled to maintain
control of her body, she heard his deep chuckle. Whatever he was, the son of a
bitch was enjoying himself at her expense.

 With a snarl of her own, Lily
centered her strength and shoved against his hold, managing somehow to slam
down a wall, shutting him out.

Drained, she slumped forward into the
snow, again.
Stupid
. If she lost the creature’s threat because she
allowed herself to veer off task, she’d kill the first thing that crossed her
path tonight—starting with that Flyboy supe.

On rubbery legs, she crawled forward
and grabbed onto a raised tree root, pushing herself up. She brushed the snow
from her pants, careful to keep her mind guarded. Steeling herself, Lily walled
off any errant thoughts or emotions and sent her senses out again, this time
focusing solely on the creature. She’d have time later to reconcile herself
with what just happened. She had a score to settle, first.

***

The sound of the ocean grew louder,
and Lily could smell the salt in the air as she approached the tree line. She
was angry at herself, but then again, that was nothing new. Her anger was what
gave her an edge. Only now she wasn’t just angry. Whoever that supe was, he had
rocked her to her core. He had taken her control, and she hated that.

She had no idea how, but without a
single touch, he managed to make her body come alive—like he was some sort of a
puppet master. Well, she was nobody’s private doll. Not if she had anything to
say about it.

In the midst of her angry reverie, a
pulse ignited without warning and flared bright in her mind. The thrum was
stronger than before, closer, and it was filled with a snarl of incoherent
threads too tangled and enraged to decipher, yet too complex to be strictly
animal.

Lily smiled. This was it, the moment
she had been waiting for. All previous thoughts vanished, and her mind focused
entirely on her target.

The tangle of threads spread across
her mind in the same pattern of frenzied thought that had rampaged through her
consciousness the night Terry was killed. The psychic footprint was an exact
match, and there was no question this was the same beast that had ripped her
friend to shreds.

“I’ve got you now, you son of a
bitch,” she uttered through clenched teeth, taking off through the trees.

Her fingers coiled around the grip of
her .45 as she pulled it from her waistband and unlocked the safety. The
beast’s hostility spurred her racing heart, growing louder and the cadence more
frantic. It was hunting.

Lily ran with desperation, picking up
speed while images of Terry’s torn and ravaged body ripped through her mind.
Heat flamed at her cheeks, her mouth twisted with the memory. She’d never
forget or forgive those responsible for Terry’s death. Herself included.

The forest thinned the further east
she tracked the creature, and now the beast was no more than a bullet away from
where she stood. It had dragged a deer out onto the bluff. The gentle animal
was barely alive, its skittering heart like a stone on Lily’s chest as its
life’s blood ran out onto the cliffs.

The wind was wild. The spray from the
waves crashing against the rocks, a tempest in the background. The sound was
unforgiving, as if heaven itself demanded retribution along with her.

Stepping out from the shelter of the
trees, Lily raised her .45. “This is for you, Terry!” she shouted pulling the
trigger.

The gun exploded in her hand, and the
beast’s head jerked up from its bloody feast and shrieked. The bullet had hit
home. The creature staggered backwards, but with a roar got to its feet, and
leaped vertically over the deer’s carcass.

The beast landed only a few feet from
Lily in an ugly parody of a four-legged stance. It charged at her with a
vengeance, swinging it claws and growling.