Wild Hunt (9 page)

A
s soon as
we arrived back at the Elite office, I took one look at my piled-high desk and grabbed the gym bag I kept for times when I could get some training in. I’d been neglecting my training far too much lately; all of my time tended to be eaten up out in the field. And while practical experience was definitely a good thing, if I didn’t stay on top of keeping myself in tip-top physical shape, then one of these days I wasn’t going to be able to outrun the monsters.

Changing into my sweats, I pinned my hair up and out of the way before making my way into the large gym the Elite had set up for the officers. Considering it was mid-afternoon, it was surprisingly empty, and I took my place at one of the heavy bags, starting out with some slow practice drills before I moved into some more complicated combinations.

I kept my mind deliberately blank as I worked through my frustrations, the sweat dripping down my back as I moved back and forth.

“You’re not bringing your leg up high enough,” Jason said.

He was too close and the fright he gave me was enough to send my heart into high gear. I spun on the spot, bringing my leg up in a move that would have dropped a lesser fighter. But he was faster, and it was almost as though he knew what I’d planned to do before my body’s instincts had even kicked in.

He caught my leg mid-swing. I started to withdraw but he used my own weight against me, twisting my leg easily, his power flipping me as though I weighed nothing at all. My back hit the mat, the air whooshing out of me as he sat astride me, pinning me in place.

Panic flooded through me as the movement reminded me of what the Fae had done the night before and I brought my fist up, letting it connect with his jaw, driving his body back off mine and onto the floor.

“Don’t do that,” I said, panting hard enough that each word was punctuated by a breath.

He grinned and raised his hands in surrender but I had a feeling from the look in his eyes that he would do it again in a heartbeat, and the next time he wouldn’t be so easy to dislodge. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But hey, at least we now know you can defend yourself.”

“I could always defend myself. I wouldn’t be in the Elite if I couldn’t,” I snapped, climbing slowly to my feet.

It was the second time he’d he’d pinned me and embarrassment made my face flame. I needed to be better. Fine, Jason was a Saga Venatione; he was one of the toughest guys out there, but that didn’t mean I could allow him to beat me at every opportunity. If I couldn’t hold my own against someone like him, then how could I expect to do it out in the field when there would be so much more in play than just who could get their feet at the correct angle?

“Looks like I struck a nerve,” he said, his smug smile insufferable.

“No, it’s just you panicked me. It reminded me of something someone else did….” I trailed off; the very last person I wanted to have this conversation with was him.

His smile faded and the expression in his eyes shifted to one of unbridled anger. “Nic?” he asked, his tone barely concealing the rage within him.

“God, no! The Fae we’re hunting, he got inside my head … broke into my apartment last night and….” I trailed off, pushing away the memory of what he’d done.

I’d won; my mind was my own. Always and forever.

Jason was suddenly standing in front of me, his movements a blur of speed. That was something else I needed to keep in mind: he was fast. Really bloody fast, maybe even faster than some of the shifters I had seen, and they were no joke when it came to speed.

He grabbed my upper arms, his hand sliding down until it came to the bite on my wrist. Whatever Lily had done to it, it definitely didn’t itch anymore, but the skin was raw and angry looking. Turning my hand gently, he stared down at the mark and then glanced up into my face.

“What did this?” he asked. The colour had faded from his face and his expression was nothing but white hot rage.

“A Heart Hound. The Fae brought it with him when he broke in…. It’s dead so no big deal,” I said, trying to draw my hand back out of his.

There was a tremor running through him and I knew without needing to ask him that he desperately wanted to hurt something. But why? Nic had only just told me about the relationships between the witch hunters and Shadow Sorcerers—why would it be working this quickly?

“Did he—?” Jason didn’t finish the question, but I knew what he was asking me.

“It wasn’t like that. He wants to control me, thinks he can use me as a puppet….” I cut off. It didn’t make any sense and I couldn’t exactly explain to Jason why the Fae would want to control any normal human. Well, normal except for the demon mark, which he knew about.

“I’ve heard of Fae like that. You were lucky to get away from him. How did you?” he asked, and this time there was no mistaking the curiosity in his voice as he reluctantly released my hand and took a small step back.

“The demon mark,” I said. “It doesn’t take too kindly to anyone trying to muscle in on its territory.”

Jason smiled and lifted his hand, his fingers running along the edge of the demon brand with a tenderness I hadn’t been expecting. Swallowing hard, I took a clumsy step back, my foot rolling as I stepped over the edge of the mat.

My training kept me on my feet and for that I was grateful, but Jason’s expression had closed down, becoming guarded as he watched me from unreadable eyes.

“I’m sorry, I keep on doing the wrong thing today…” he said finally. Turning away from me, I watched as he pushed his hands violently through his hair, causing it to stand on end.

“Perhaps a little training will help?” I suggested, but his bitter laugh told me it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I’ve got to go,” he said finally, and without a backward glance, he jogged for the doors and disappeared out into the hall.

Whatever in Hell was going on with him, it was definitely getting weirder. But what I was supposed to do with that knowledge … well, that was just going to have to be a problem for another day.

Hopping on the treadmill, I ran until every breath I took burned in my lungs and my legs ached as though they were on fire. At least when I was running I didn’t have time to think of anything else; my brain was far too consumed with thoughts of simply staying on the treadmill and not flying off and crashing into the wall.

On the verge of collapse, I hopped off the end, my legs like jelly as I jogged slowly back toward the locker rooms and stripped for the shower. Securing my towel, I crammed my sweat-soaked clothes back into my gym bag and headed for the shower stalls. One of the best things about training down at the Elite was the fact that they had sprung for the privacy stalls rather than one large open-plan shower room that high-schools tended to favour and which had given me the heebie-jeebies growing up.

Stepping beneath the spray of water, I hung the towel from the peg just inside the door. Heat radiated through my body as the water fell like tiny needle pins across my face and chest, easing my aching muscles. Turning around, I let the powerful spray soak one particularly nasty knot in my shoulder. The price to pay for getting slammed into a wall and the floor in one day.

Something creaked in the locker room and I froze, my breath catching in the back of my throat as I strained to listen over the rush of the shower spray. When nothing else happened, I slowly turned the shower off and reached around to grab the towel hanging from the hook.

My fingers closed around nothing but air and my heart began to hammer in my chest.

“This better be the worst prank in history!” I called out as the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention.

The slow tic-tac of sharp nails on the tiled floor sent my adrenaline into overdrive and I peered around the edge of the shower stall. There was nothing there but I could still hear the sound of the nails on the floor growing ever closer.

Slipping from the shower stall, I crept down the length of the room toward the back. Catching sight of the janitor’s closet, I dashed the final couple of steps toward it and tugged it open before climbing inside.

Water dripped from my skin and a cold shiver raced down my spine as I searched the tiny closet for something, anything I could use as a weapon.

Grabbing a metal-handled heavy-duty wire broom, I unscrewed the brush end and swung the handle in my hands. Training with sticks had never been my strong suit—I was far better with knives, even swords—but I was passable with a stick and it would be enough to help me defend myself.

My eyes fell on a packet of overalls, an almost identical pack to the ones we used for crime scenes, and without a moment’s hesitation, I pulled one out and tugged it on. I did not feel up to facing whatever was out there in the locker room naked.

Grabbing the metal stick once more, I slowly opened the closet door and with a two-handed grip, I took stock of my surroundings.

Silence reigned once more, and from my vantage point, nothing looked different. I hadn’t imagined it all; there had definitely been something in the locker room with me….

Creeping through the space, I came to my now empty shower stall and paused. The towel I’d been looking for was hanging on the peg.

Was I losing my mind?

Perhaps everything that had been going on had finally caused my mind to snap? It wasn’t impossible, but the only problem with that theory was that I didn’t feel any different. Surely when you lost your mind you felt different?

Letting out the breath I’d been holding, I made my way back around to my locker and tugged out the clean clothes I’d left folded inside. Propping the stick against the bench, I lifted the blue T-shirt when something slammed into my back sending me sprawling onto my front.

Rolling with the fall, I awkwardly managed to find my feet, but my hands stung from the force with which I’d hit the ground and the shoulder I’d been trying to soak went straight back to screaming in protest.

The stick lay on the ground at the feet of the Fae who had attacked me in my apartment, the same Fae who was determined to crush my mind beneath the weight of his own.

“You’re always so alone—you make it far too easy, Amber.” Hearing him say my name was enough to make my back stiffen and my shoulders tense. The midnight-coloured velvet jacket he wore seemed to absorb the light around him but it enhanced the vividness of his hair and eyes, causing them to stand out and appear brighter than ever. The frothy, white shirt he wore would have looked out of place on anyone else but paired with the skin tight black leather trousers it only added to his appearance of other-worldliness.

The tic-tac of sharp claws on the tile floor met my ears again and I turned until my back was pressed to the metal lockers, my gaze darting between the Fae on my right and the Heart Hound on my left. It watched me with intelligent red eyes and whined before dropping its head low, its black ears flattening to its head, making it almost impossible to make them out against the rest of its body. A deep-throated growl rumbled from its chest.

Fear washed through me and the creature scented the air, its growl intensifying.

“You excite him. Humans are a novelty; you’re always afraid of something and you smell delicious.”

The Fae moved toward me and I tried to duck out of his grasp, but the sudden movement caused the Heart Hound to take a couple of threatening steps forward. It really didn’t like me moving and I knew instinctively that if I did something it didn’t want, it would rip me to shreds.

This one wasn’t as obedient as the other had been. I could feel the Fae’s control over the creature like a tenuous thread. If I could break it, then perhaps I would stand a chance of getting out of it.

“They don’t belong to you,” I said, addressing the Fae who now stood next to me.

A shudder ran through me as his hand caressed the side of my face, his fingers cold.

“Everything belongs to me,” he said.

“Not the Heart Hounds; they belong to the Hunt, not you…. You are not their master,” I said.

The Heart Hound had stopped growling and part of me couldn’t help but wonder just how much of our conversation it could understand. I’d seen the intelligence in its eyes, the eyes of a predator, the purest form of a predator that I had ever lain eyes on.

The thread between the Fae and the Heart Hound wavered like the flickering of a candle flame. I could practically taste how much the Heart Hound wanted to break free; he would help me if he could.

“I am master of the Hunt, they are mine to control,” the Fae said, his violet eyes snapping with anger.

“No, you’re just like every other perp we see through the doors here. Arrogant and stupid. You believe the world belongs to you, that everything in it is yours to control, when really you’re just a bunch of pathetic snivelling idiots who don’t even have control over their own lives. Newsflash, asshole—attempting to control everyone else around you won’t make your pathetic, worthless life any better!”

The tirade spewed from my mouth like a poison I needed to expel. The Fae’s face growing paler with every word I spoke; by the time I’d finished, he was shaking with anger, but that was all I needed. I’d created a doubt in his mind.

The thread tying the Heart Hound to him snapped, freeing the creature from his commands. It started to growl once more, but this time, it was directed at the Fae.

Pressing my back against the locker in an attempt to make myself as small as I could, the Heart Hound lunged past me, landing into the centre of the Fae’s chest, taking them both to the tile floor.

The room was filled with howls and shouts and I didn’t waste any time. Ripping open the locker, I tugged my gun free. When the Heart Hound came out on top—and I was certain a creature as ferocious as that would—I needed to put it down before it decided I was the next meal.

The Heart Hound made a sharp yelp, and a silence so complete that I half wondered if I’d gone deaf fell across the locker room.

Its body moved and then flopped over onto the tile floor, the front of its chest cracked open; from where I was standing, I could see the cavity was empty.