The Hunter's Pet (15 page)

“I’ll know what I planted when the plants come up,” the wildling said, completely unconcerned. “It will be written on their leaves.”

“Leaves die,” William said. “Words don’t.”

The wildling gave him a curious look of incomprehension. “I see leaves, not words.”

“Words are for the air.” Another wildling joined in the discussion.

“But you can catch the words when you write them down,” William tried to explain.

“Catch words, ha!” The wildling began flailing at the air as if trying to catch invisible words. “They’re escaping! Catch the words!”

Sarah watched, giggling as William shook his head and gave up. The wildlings weren’t stupid people, but they did refuse to care about that which did not matter. No amount of lecturing or cajoling could change that. The wildlings hunted, gathered, and copulated and they were not interested in changing their lifestyles.

William and Sarah retreated back to their cabin, William’s little bastion of order amidst the reckless wilds. Not much was said on the way back, for Sarah was too busy finding new routes and paths through the trees and picking the occasional berry or fruit. By the time they got home, she had half a basket of food to add to their stores.

Then there was work to be done. The garden had to be tended, the food had to be stored, the torches had to be lit before evening fell and wild beasts started prowling around the house, following the scent of man and food.

It was almost dusk before they settled down to dinner, and Sarah was still amused by the events of the day. The mental image of wild men pretending to catch their words played over and over, leaving her giggling.

“Stop smiling,” William said gruffly. The harshness of his words was ameliorated by a little wink in her direction as they sat at their hand-hewn dinner table enjoying a stew of vegetables from their very own garden. “This is about those damn wildlings today, isn’t it?”

“They were funny,” she said. “And so were you.”

“There’s nothing funny about education,” William insisted. “You know how beneficial the written word can be. It saved your life.”

“They were never going to kill me,” she reminded him. “Besides, you’re a hunter. You would have found me whether I’d left a note or not.”

“It’s still important,” he insisted. “If we teach them to write, we teach them to record their history.”

“Because if there’s anything we need, it’s history.”

“It’s important to know what came before,” he said, his expression consumed with a kind of seriousness that didn’t have anything to do with writing. He wasn’t trying to teach a skill. He was trying to build a civilization. He did not often speak of his old life, but she knew he must yearn for it. The decision to live wild had been made impulsively in the aftermath of a grand disaster. He was probably regretting his decision and the hardships it had brought.

“You miss the city,” she said, reaching across to touch his hand gently.

He shrugged and returned to his meal without comment. Sarah felt a pang of sadness for him. Try as he might, he was not fully adapting to the wilds. He kept trying to make things as they were in the city, ordered and neat. But nothing in the wild was neat, and order was swept away in winds and rain and other elements far more powerful than a man.

“Hello?”

William and Sarah looked up from their meal to discover a stranger at the door. A stranger who was not a wildling, but a man who wore the armor of the cities. He was a tall, handsome man with shaven cheeks and all the proud bearing of a citizen. For a long moment, neither Sarah nor William responded to him. He seemed more like a hallucination than something real.

“Are you the hunter from Albion, the one they call William?” The stranger asked the question with officious confidence, as if the question itself were a mere formality, an opportunity to show his superior knowledge.

“I am,” William said. “Who are you?”

“My name is Rik Malfrew,” the man said. “I am the Nalbin City search party. I have been looking for you.”

“You have?” William’s surprise was clear.

“Of course, no citizen can be left behind.” He tapped a device on his wrist. “It would have been easier if you’d stayed in the general vicinity of Albion, but I can’t blame you for vacating the area as quickly as possible. Give us a couple of days and we’ll arrange a transport to get us to Nalbin city.”

“Wait,” William said. “I’m not sure we want a transport.”

Rik’s look of shock was quite priceless. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m not sure we want to leave.”

“You don’t want to live out here with these animals, do you?” Rik gestured in Sarah’s direction.

“They’re not animals.” William’s voice lowered to a more serious register. “They’re people like you and me.”

“They are definitely not like you and me,” Rik said, chortling to himself. “We’ve run into half a dozen groups of the things. They’re wretched and violent. Had to put a lot of them down.”

“Put them down? You mean murder them,” William said grimly, his body stiffening with hostility.

Sarah had not spoken. She was still in shock at the sudden appearance of the citizen. It seemed there was nowhere, however wild, that was out of reach of those people once they set their minds to a thing.

“Only citizens can be murdered,” Rik said. “Animals are hunted. You know that.”

“Wildlings are humans with a mutation.”

“And monkeys share 98% of our DNA. What is your point?” Rik began to scowl. “You’re being rescued. You could show some gratitude.”

“I don’t need rescuing,” William said stiffly. “And you’re trespassing on my property.”

Rik laughed. And laughed. And then stopped when he realized that William was actually serious. “Oh, my dear man,” Rik said, “you must be addled from the radiation. This isn’t property. This is a hovel.”

“Get. Out.” There was now undeniable menace in William’s voice. His hand lingered near his weapon, still holstered at his hip, still charged after all that time.

“William…” Sarah spoke softly. “Don’t be rash. You miss the city.”

“The city,” William nodded, “but not this.”

“Listen to your pet,” Rik said. “She has the sense to know where you belong.”

“I decide where I belong,” William said. “And you are not welcome here. Leave. Now.”

“I’m afraid I’ve been tasked with bringing you back to Nalbin, and that’s what I’m going to do.” Rik lifted his weapon. It was probably only set to stun. Maybe he never had any intention of firing it at all, but William didn’t wait to find out. He rushed the man, throwing him to the ground with the sheer force of his body.

Rik went flying backwards into the grass outside their house, narrowly avoiding crushing ripening marrows. In the process he lost his grip on the weapon, which skidded across the grass. Sarah scampered out to retrieve it before anyone could start wrestling for it. The two men were struggling, but Rik was at a disadvantage. His armor protected him from blows and projectiles, but it made him awkward and slow as well. William soon had the upper hand, pinning Rik to the ground beneath his powerful body.

“Listen,” William said softly as he held the citizen down. “I’m going to let you go with your life, but if you, or any other city people come this way again, if I find out that even one wildling has been harmed, I will hunt 
you
. Understand?”

Rik might have been a proud citizen, civilized and empowered with technology, but he knew when he was beaten. His nod of assent was accompanied by a small whimper of pain.

“William,” Sarah said. “Please, let him up. You’re hurting him.”

“Not nearly enough,” William growled.

It came as a shock to Sarah that William’s response wasn’t at all civilized. It was wild. He was not politely asking the intruder to go away, he was defending his territory with all necessary force. She had been wrong about him. William wasn’t the same man he’d been in the city. The wilds had changed him, more than she had realized, and more than he knew.

“Please,” Rik said. “Let me go. I won’t come back.”

“You won’t come back and you won’t tell anyone you found me. You’ll have me removed from the records.”

“Okay,” Rik agreed quickly. He probably would have agreed to anything to get the great bearded hunter off him.

“If anyone else comes here, if we find hunting parties out here, rescue teams, anything that shouldn’t be here, I will come after you,” William reiterated, his great fists clenched just below Rik’s jaw. “Understand?”

“Understood.” The citizen’s voice was cracking with fear.

Taking pity on the man, William got up and pulled Rik up with him. “Thank you for looking for me,” he said more kindly. “But I’m not lost. I’m home.”

“Can’t say this is what I’d choose,” Rik said, straightening the plates of his armor. “But if this is really what you want…”

“It is,” William said firmly. “I have everything I need out here.”

“Mm-hmm.” Rik’s eyes slid over to Sarah and took on a shrewd expression. “This is about her, isn’t it? I’ve heard some hunters engage in unnatural acts with their pets…”

“Watch your words,” William warned.

“Oh, no, I get it.” Rik lifted his hands in pre-emptive surrender. “You like your pet.”

“She’s not a pet,” William corrected him sharply.

“I’m not?” Sarah spoke up, confused.

“Oh, you’re always going to be 
my
 pet,” he said in deliciously deep tones that sent shivers of excitement down her spine. “But you’re not a pet in the eyes of the world here. You’re a free woman, the equal of any other. And that’s why we’ll never return to a city. I won’t ever ask you to go back to a place where you are not treated as an equal.”

“You’d give up everything for her?” Rik’s tone was equal parts incredulous and admiring. “You’d live in a hut in the middle of nowhere just for her?”

William locked eyes with Sarah, speaking more to her than to Rik. “I’d live in a hut in the middle of hell for her.”

Sarah smiled, feeling her eyes fill with happy tears. She had always felt his love, but she had never been so sure of its strength, or his commitment to it. He loved her more than he loved the world. He loved her more than life itself.

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll do as you asked. Good luck to you both.” Rik turned and walked quickly toward the setting sun, taking all hope of a return to civilization with him.

“That might have been your last chance to ever go back,” Sarah said urgently, “Are you sure? It’s not too late to catch him…”

William shook his head, abandoning all words. Strong arms wrapped themselves around her and hot lips claimed her mouth in a searing kiss that made every part of her body thrill to him. William had made his decision, and his decision was her.

The End

Stormy Night Publications would like to thank you for your interest in our books.

If you liked this book (or even if you didn’t), we would really appreciate you leaving a review on the site where you purchased it. Reviews provide useful feedback for us and our authors, and this feedback (both positive comments and constructive criticism) allows us to work even harder to make sure we provide the content our customers want to read. Reviewing stories you enjoyed also helps them sell better, which in turn leads to more high-quality work from your favorite authors in the future.

Adding keywords and tags (on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, etc.) really helps as well!

If you would like to check out more books from Stormy Night Publications, if you want to learn more about our company, or if you would like to join our mailing list, please visit our website at:

http://www.stormynightpublications.com

More Stormy Night Books by Loki Renard

The Lord’s Bride

When Mary de Vere’s closest companion Martin de Stafford—whom she secretly loves—is stolen from her by his long-promised marriage to another woman, eighteen-year-old Mary believes things can get no worse… until an assassin’s blade takes her father’s life. The laws of the land place her under the authority of her heartless uncle, but even as her world falls apart around her, Mary vows to one day reclaim her rights and her title.

Years later, Martin, now the Sheriff of Staffordshire and a widower since illness claimed his wife, encounters his childhood friend in the unlikeliest of places: a convent. Though Mary plays the part of a simple woman who dreams of becoming a nun, Martin is far from convinced. He knows the feisty girl far too well to believe that she aspires to a life of service in the church, and in any case, he has another future to offer her—a future as his wife.

When she spurns his affections, Martin only grows more determined to unravel her plot, and at last Mary is caught red-handed in an act of banditry. To save herself from the dungeon, she is left with no choice but to submit to the very thing she once longed for: marriage to Martin de Stafford. Mary soon learns that her new husband is more than her match and that from now on her bare bottom will pay the price for her scheming. In spite of her pride, Martin’s firm chastisement enflames her lust for him, but can she truly force herself to put aside the wrongs of the past and lay claim to a life at the side of the man she always wanted?

The Brat, the Bodyguard, and the Bounty Hunter

When runaway heiress Fiona Fayrefield hires bodyguard Harris Kingsley to protect her from her meddlesome father, Harris decides that his job includes putting the spoiled twenty-four-year-old brat over his knee for a long, hard spanking when he feels it necessary. For the first time in her life, Fiona discovers that doing whatever she wants, whenever she wants, is no longer an option.

After her father sends ex-military bounty hunter Tom Waters to bring her home, events take an unexpected turn and the two men soon join forces to protect Fiona, to tame her rebellious ways, and to bring her more pleasure than she ever imagined possible. But when they learn that she has more skeletons in her closet than they were counting on, will her fortune come between Fiona and the loves of her life?