Hunter Mourned (Wild Hunt Book 3) (36 page)

“So, what did you find at Tony’s office?” Rafe asked.

“A whole box of documents from the lawyer who handled Megan’s adoption and…”

Rafe waited for him to finish and finally prompted, “And?”

Devin cleared his throat. “The female you smelled at Tony’s house has spent time here too.”

Rafe cursed. When they’d stopped by the house listed as Megan’s residence, they’d found it engulfed in flames. There had been no sign of their white lion cub, but
her
fragrance had lingered there—a feline scent-marked human. Rafe had to find her. He had questions for her, including what her interest was in Megan.

More importantly, he needed to discover which male had marked her. He’d been a Royal, not a single species shifter. That much Rafe had been able to tell from the unique scent. The mix of lion, tiger and jaguar was unmistakable, but he couldn’t put a face to the smell. Considering there were only a couple dozen Royal feline shifters in the States, an unknown male was a threat. The safety of their women and children couldn’t be risked.

“Did you pick up her trail?” Rafe asked.

“Nope. She must’ve driven every time.”

“All right. Check out the next of kin addresses. I’ll corner Josh and find out what he knows. Hopefully, one of us will get lucky.”

He ended the call, gave the pile of toys in the car another glance, then headed to the front entrance. The door opened before he reached it. The stench of sweat and stale beer swept out along with the heavy thump of music. He inwardly cringed at the sensory overload. With three animal spirits sharing his body, everything was enhanced, from his instincts to his senses. It was enough to drive a male insane. Fortunately, he’d been dealing with his shifter nature for centuries. He knew how to handle it—with patience and control.

Darkness edged the room. Rafe moved toward the farthest wall, needing a moment to acclimate to the environment. Eyes closed, he parted his lips slightly to taste the scents on the air. He had two very specific ones he sought—Megan’s and the feline scent-marked human’s.

After a few more deep inhales, he cursed. Neither had been in the bar over the last couple of hours. Still, he loped the room and checked the hallways. Nothing. He ground his teeth and leaned farther into the shadows. He might’ve missed out on finding the females he sought, but his trip hadn’t been a complete failure. Josh Conway, Tony’s brother and Megan’s uncle, stood behind the bar with his arms crossed over his chest.

His commanding personality was clear from his confident stance and the way his wait staff interacted with him, responding immediately to whatever direction he gave. Had the tall, black-haired, blue-eyed male been born a shifter, he would’ve been a dominant or maybe an alpha, leading his own pack or pride.

Rafe rubbed his knuckles under his chin. Just his damn luck the human who’d been left as Megan’s guardian was Josh. Rafe doubted the male would blindly accept the bullshit speech or the legal papers claiming Megan was an Alexander and had been stolen at birth.

It wouldn’t matter if it were the truth. Or partially true. She had been stolen, but Rafe had no idea which pride she belonged to. White lion shifters were nearly extinct. Megan was the only female left. No matter the circumstances. Josh wouldn’t give her up without a fight. Rafe would bet his life on it.

Oh yeah, they needed to talk, and Josh’s answer would set his path. The way Rafe looked at it, Josh had two options: become assimilated into the shifter world, vowing to protect their secret, or be handed over to the human government for reprogramming, a procedure that mixed brainwashing and magic and had about a fifty-fifty success rate.

Neither option was ideal, but there was no choice. The general population couldn’t learn of shifters’ existence. They weren’t ready.

Rafe’s cell vibrated against his leg, pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and let Devin’s call go unanswered. It was too loud in the room, and he wasn’t about to leave Josh unsupervised. Rafe had no desire to hunt him down a second time.

Knowing the drill, Devin sent a text. The rhythmic thumping announcing its arrival traveled up his arm. He glanced at the screen and breathed a sigh of relief.

Devin had found Megan at the first address: Josh’s parents. Devin was laying low and watching the house. Everyone inside was asleep. At least one thing had gone right tonight. The most important thing—Megan was safe.

Rafe sent a reply saying he’d meet him after talking with Josh. He slid the phone into his pocket and made his way to the bar.

Josh ambled over to the counter. “What can I get you?”

“Actually, the question you should be asking me is, can you help me?” Rafe grinned at the bemused expression on the male’s face. “You see, your brother’s desperation has dropped you in a world I can guarantee you don’t want to be in.”

Continue Reading Treasured Find

A woman seeking answers…

Cat, a renowned scientist, embarks on a quest to uncover the source of the unknown deadly virus that claimed her sister’s life. What she finds is a man shrouded in mystery who manages the impossible—swaying her devotion from logic to passion. But Rune isn’t simply a lover. He’s a weapon, one that has the potential to save her or destroy her.

A man searching for treasure…

Rune, a child of the mist, awakens into a world hovering on the verge of destruction. Ragnarok is coming. His enemies have been released from their prison. And he’s discovered the one woman who can thaw his frozen heart. But the race to stop the final battle isn’t the time to fall in love. Or is it?

A discovery that will change everything…

Life evolves, and what was lost can be recovered. But the truth revealed isn’t the one Cat or Rune expects. The impossible has become reality. And two lovers must make a choice—adapt or die.

C
HAPTER
O
NE

Rune sucked in a sharp breath. The ice particles in the air seared his lungs. Pain radiated from his chest outward. His heart compressed once, then again. Another inhale brought a multitude of unknown scents. He ignored them and focused on the pungent odor that had brought him out of his death-sleep.

The
eldjötnar
, the fire demons, were free, and they’d begun to feed.

Rage pulsed through him, fueling the awakening. The children of the mist had been betrayed. By whom, he did not know. He would find out, however. Those who’d thought to unleash their enemies would die.

He cracked his eyelids. In increments, his eyesight returned. The sluggish beat of his heart gained strength. Tingles spread through his muscles. He forced his numb limbs to respond to his command to rise, but his body protested the movement. After a millennium of slumber, life did not return easily, even for an immortal being.

He pushed to his feet and swayed. The narrow alcove he’d chosen as his resting place stopped his collapse. He braced a hand against the rock wall. More breaths expanded his lungs and forced his blood to flow. Several minutes passed while he consciously directed the primitive functions of his body before it picked up the remembered rhythm.

He shrugged off the remaining weakness and put one foot in front of the other. He stumbled into the main chamber. Rays of diluted moonlight brightened the space. He squinted against the glare and picked out Jaron’s familiar shape at the mouth of the cave. Mist swirled around his crouched form.

Jaron turned at his approach. The flush to his skin ignited Rune’s hunger. His fangs descended, and saliva pooled in his mouth. He dragged his tongue across the sharp teeth, slicing it open, but the diluted blood did little to satisfy his craving. It only clenched his gut, the need for more a palpable desire.

He concentrated on Jaron’s silver eyes instead of the gnawing sensation squeezing his stomach. “How long have you been awake, my brother?”

“Long enough to coax a flock of
Eider
to share their blood with me.” Jaron extended his arm. “Come, take nourishment from me. We do not have time to draw a meal to you.”

“Yes, we must find the escaped
eldjötnar
and the foolish humans who freed them.”

“I’m not sure the humans were involved in the release of the demons.” Jaron jerked his chin in the direction of the opening he blocked. “Look.”

Rune closed the distance between them, glad his initial sluggishness had abated. Jaron shifted to the side, allowing Rune a view he’d never thought he’d see.

He dropped to his knees.

The endless expanse of ice and snow he’d known since the beginning of his existence no longer filled the valley of
Niflheim
. Mist still weaved its way along the ground and inched up the sides of their hidden mountain, but not to the extent it had.

He swept his gaze across the land and zeroed in on the spot where Surtr, the eldest of the
eldjötnar
, and his sons had been imprisoned in the icy tomb Rune had fashioned for them eons ago.

“Our world has melted.” And released their worst nightmare.

“Yes. Ragnarok is coming, earlier than we had planned.”

Rune flicked his gaze to Jaron’s face. “Impossible. The cycle is tied to the movement of the heavens.” He pointed to the moon and its lack of haze. “It is not time.”

“Do you have another explanation?”

Rune shook his head. “You know I do not, but I refuse to believe the rebirth has arrived. Neither do you. If you did, you’d be awakening the gods from their slumber, not be crouched here with me.”

Jaron inclined his head. “You were always the voice of reason.”

“Reason?” He chuckled. The dry bitter sound hurt his own ears. “I think you have me confused with Lyal. I’m the cold one, or have you forgotten my legacy?”

He was the only one who hadn’t grieved over the loss of their females. He’d chosen revenge instead.

Jaron extended his arm. “Feed. We waste time.”

Rune shook his head and settled his gaze on the rocky shore where once a mountain of ice had sat. In its place was an unfortunate victim’s bloated body. Birds picked at what remained of the human. Rune glanced away from the sight before memories choked him.

“I am not sure it matters. This did not happen overnight.” Which meant the
eldjötnar
had been free for some time. “Why did we not sense their awakening?”

“The ice has broken off in chunks and floated with the movement of the sea.” Jaron pointed toward where an iceberg floated several hundred feet from the shore.

Curses whipped through Rune’s head. “Then we have failed in our role again.”

“Whatever occurred to bring about this disaster had nothing to do with us.”

“Not this time.”

“No, not this time, but we must act quickly to prevent the demons from desecrating the neighboring villages the way they did ours.” Jaron dragged a fang over his wrist. “Now feed.”

The scent of blood hit Rune square in the chest. Instinct directed his movements. He snatched Jaron’s hand and brought it to his mouth, sinking his fangs into his flesh. Rich blood spilled over his tongue. The nourishment it provided infused him with life. He greedily swallowed the gift and did his best to ignore Jaron’s thoughts that came with the intimate sharing of blood. Rune couldn’t stop them, though. The tie to his sibling was too strong.

Flashes of images from their last failure filled his head. One moment he knelt with Jaron; the next Rune stood with his brethren at the base of their mountain home.

Roars of frustration and cries of disbelief reverberated between his ears. The slideshow started. Jaron kneeling in a river of black blood. His cousins racing through their homes looking for survivors. Friends slashing their wrists and desperately trying to save their females. He pushed those memories away and embraced the one that still enraged him—the bloated, diseased bodies of their chosen consorts. They’d been staked and left to line the path leading to Asgard.

Their greatest failure.

Until now.

Rune forced his fangs to retract and licked the wound closed. A steadying breath cleared the last of the unsettling memories from his mind. “We must find them.”

“And do what?” Jaron rested his head against the rock wall. “They will not fall for our trap a second time.”

Rune shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Don’t be a fool. I would anticipate another attempt. So will they. In the end, we are the same.”

“No.” Rune pushed to his feet. “We are nothing like them.”

“Honor separates us, nothing more. The day we think differently is the day we fail.” Jaron moved to the edge of the opening. White mist swirled around his ankles, ready to welcome him. “I will awaken the others and check on our treasure troves. You will begin the search for the escaped
eldjötnar
. Be safe, little brother.”

With the order delivered, Jaron hopped off the ledge into the open air. He took several steps over the shimmering surface provided by the fog before the wind scattered his image. He would travel along the currents, one with the air particles and the life-giving water they contained.