Hunter Mourned (Wild Hunt Book 3) (5 page)

“Aren’t we all?”

The woman shrugged. “Sometimes it’s better to leave memories alone. The present doesn’t always live up to past happiness.”

There was truth in that statement. Rowan wouldn’t deny that. “Speaking from experience?”

A tired, bitter smirk spread over the female’s face. “Too many. I wish I could scrub every lifetime from my mind. Unfortunately, I gave up that privilege several millennia ago with the vow I took.”

Rowan froze and studied the female. The woman appeared human. She even felt human. Her words, however, suggested more. There was only one possibility.

Rowan took several steps into the alley. “Have we met?”

“No, but my goddess cried for you.”

The human’s words confirmed Rowan’s suspicions. With a wiggle of her fingers, she called the power of the Hunt to her, not for the purpose of summoning her horse or hounds but to erect a veil around the section of the street where she stood.

The shadows around her stretched and lengthened, mixing with the dark haze bleeding from the Underworld. The murky cloud was the same that obscured the Wild Hunt from the mortals while the Huntsman rode, blurring the humans’ vision and distorting their senses, both mortal and man-made.

The noises from the city and the voices from the people around her faded. With their privacy assured, she approached the human, who hadn’t even reacted to the show of supernatural power.

“Which maiden are you?” Minerva had chosen seventeen sisters to be her handmaidens many millennia ago. They lived and died as humans, acting as extensions of the goddess of love’s hands on the mortal realm, much the same way the Huntsmen did for Arawn.

“I’m Alana, lucky number seven.” The maiden swept her hand down her body. “My daddy in this lifetime turned me into a whore at eleven. Got knocked up by some loser. After I had the kid and dropped her off on some church’s doorstep, I ran. I did shit I regret. Spent time in rehab, and now I’m here, waiting to finish my last task so I can die and return to my goddess.”

No doubt Minerva had cried over her handmaiden’s pain too. Minerva couldn’t touch the mortal world any more than Arawn could. The gods and goddesses watched over it, fulfilling whatever task had been handed to them by the Triad. They couldn’t intervene in the fate of the humans without sacrifice. Minerva had chosen to do so when she’d placed her handmaidens in the world, making some deal with the Triad, just as Arawn had when he’d created his Teulu.

Rowan didn’t know much about the goddess’s handmaidens other than that they lived and died as humans, completing whatever goals Minerva gave them, even if it took multiple lifetimes to do so. When they succeeded, they returned to Minerva for further instructions. Except Minerva no longer acted as the goddess of love. Her deal to save her son, Ian, had demanded she give up the role. What did that mean for her maidens?

“Minerva is no longer the goddess of love. You won’t be returning to her.”

Surprise flashed across Alana’s face, followed by amusement. “The Triad spoke the truth.”

“About?”

Alana took a drag of her cigarette. “Minerva’s punishment. It promised she would lose everything for her sin.”

“What sin?”

Alana rolled the cigarette between her fingers and worked her jaw back and forth. “Minerva is the most powerful goddess. In fact, she ranks right below the Triad.” She held up her hand. “Or at least she did. I guess without her title, she’s nothing.”

“Her role? As the goddess of love?” Rowan couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice. How exactly did the soft emotion warrant such power?

A huge grin took over Alana’s face, exposing a few missing teeth. “Surprised you, Hunter, didn’t I? Well, let me assure you, it’s true. Love is powerful, and in its truest form knows no bounds. Amazing feats can be accomplished because of it. Nations can topple. Wars can be started or ended in its name.”

Alana stepped forward, excitement glinting in her eyes. “Life, you see, can’t exist without it. Attempts to squelch it are temporary. It flourishes, no matter what happens or how horrendous the attempts to destroy it. Maybe not immediately. Maybe not easily. But it does. And it always returns stronger than ever.”

It was obvious that Alana’s hardships had not wiped out her passion for her role as a maiden of love. Then again, the hell the Huntsmen had endured for a millennium hadn’t destroyed their spirit either.

“I agree the emotion is important, even necessary, but to make such a claim is foolish. Wars are won with strategy and strength. It’s about having the right weapon to use at the right time.”

“Not everything is about strength.” Alana tugged on the ribbon in Rowan’s hair, unraveling the bow, then flicked the end so the shiny material flopped against Rowan’s shoulder. “Nor is everything about beauty. That is the argument that started this whole fucking mess we’re in.”

Rowan resisted adjusting the tie and focused on the maiden’s face from inches away. Anger burned in the female’s dark blue eyes, the tragic and all-consuming kind that left its mark on a person’s soul. Minerva often wore the same look.

“Are you talking about Dagda?” The Seelie King had been corrupted by Chaos long before Rowan had been born. After the raw power altered his mind and body, he turned Unseelie and took the name Dar.

“He’s a player in the game the Triad put into motion, the same as you, nothing more.”

“Tell me about this game. Everything you know.”

Alana stepped back. She turned her head slightly to the side and took another drag of her cigarette. “I know little more than you, I’m sure.”

Rowan yanked off her glove and shoved her right hand at the maiden. “I know that if I fail to make the choice required of me, I lose. I will return to the hell I escaped, and the barrier between the Underworld and the mortal one will thin. If enough of my siblings fail, the horrors of my father’s realm will take over yours. Do you want that,
maiden
?”

“No.” Alana lifted her foot and rubbed the lit end of the cigarette against her shoe, then dropped the stub. With a gentle touch, she cradled Rowan’s hand and leaned close to examine the mark. Finally, she sighed. “I honestly know very little, Hunter. I only know what spurred the game, but that is because it was Minerva’s sin that did so.”

Rowan curled her fingers. “What did she do?”

“I can’t answer that question. You’ll have to ask Minerva.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Does it matter? The result is the same. If you wish to uncover my goddess’s secret, you’ll have to pry the knowledge from her.”

“Minerva is no longer the goddess of love.”

Alana shrugged. “Title or not, she is still my goddess. I am bound to her for eternity, and I will carry out the vow I took when I agreed to act as her maiden, with or without her guidance.”

Stubbornness was stamped on the female’s face. Rowan understood the emotion well. It was what had kept her functioning all these years. “What task do you have yet to complete?”

Alana raised a brow. “Why do you care? It has to do with love, not seeking retribution for the wronged.”

“Then tell me about this neighborhood. I’m looking for the man who’s been attacking women. I have reason to believe he’s a redcap.”

The color drained from Alana’s face. “A redcap, huh? What does he look like?”

“Built. Tall. Dark hair and eyes. Nice-looking, I guess. Dar prefers pretty men to join his court.” Rowan grinned. “But he’s got a nasty scar on his face from a Hunter’s blade. That’s the one feature his latest victims have described.”

“Haven’t seen him.” Alana stepped around Rowan and headed toward the main street. She walked through the hazy barrier, shattering the veil.

“Wait.” Rowan grabbed Alana’s arm. “Where are you going?”

“Back to work. I’ve got a job to do and bills to pay.”

“I still have questions for you.”

“Unless you want to talk about love, I can’t help you. I told you everything I know.”

“Then let me show you the file we have on this man. He might cloak himself in one of the visages he’s used in the past. According to my sources, he’s predictable and enjoys toying with the authorities.”

“He’s demented then, huh?” Alana snorted. “Great.”

Rowan lowered her voice. “All redcaps are. They did choose to tie themselves to Dar for eternity.”

“Then visit me another night. If I don’t get in there, I’m going to be fired.”

“You’ll be here tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ll be here. I work every night except Tuesday.” Alana yanked her arm free. “Come if you want, but I really need to go.”

Alana jogged down the street without waiting for Rowan’s answer, said something to the bouncer, and slipped inside the bar.

Rowan waited a few moments, then continued on. Despite the unexpected encounter, she had a task to accomplish. Craig needed to be found and killed. He was a threat to the humans, including Alana.

The maiden couldn’t fall victim to the redcap. Alana had a task to complete. Rowan didn’t need to know what kind or who it involved. It had to do with love. Although she wouldn’t experience the emotion again, she remembered how wonderful it had been. If keeping Alana alive long enough helped another person experience it, then Rowan would do everything in her power to make that happen.

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

The sound of giggling women grated on Trevor’s nerves. He waited until the two redheads who’d just given them their numbers were swallowed up by the crowd before facing Zeph. The Huntsman was as tall as Trevor but carried more muscle. Not the same way a bodybuilder did. Zeph was fit. Sculpted might be a better term. If the attention Zeph drew was any indicator, he was good-looking too. Maybe hot, or whatever term women used for attractive guys.

It was probably Zeph’s white-blond hair that caught their eye. Or maybe his unique lavender eyes. No matter the reason, the sheer number of women who’d swarmed them since they’d entered the bar was absurd. Even Ian didn’t have the same effect on females, and he was an incubus. Trevor was sick of it. Trying to get a lead on Craig when Zeph kept getting offers to dance or other more blatant propositions was impossible.

“You need to wear a damn bag over your head or something. This is getting ridiculous.”

Zeph shrugged. “Just ignore them. I haven’t lived here long enough to build a reputation. Once they realize I don’t date, they’ll back off.”

“This isn’t some village where people live out their lives in one spot. People come and go all the time. A stranger isn’t going to know your reputation.”

“Then I’ll limit my time in public places. It’s not a big deal.” Zeph took a drink of his beer. “Besides, I’m only here tonight because of you. If I didn’t agree to come out, you would’ve left alone.”

Trevor crumpled the piece of paper with the girl’s number. “I don’t need a babysitter. I have my blade. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m not arguing that. Calan gave an order, though. You’re not supposed to hunt alone.”

“Calan can stick—”

“Do you want to join us or not?”

Trevor clenched his hands until white knuckles showed, frustration riding him hard. “You know I do. I haven’t exactly made it a secret.”

“Then you need to prove that you can follow orders. That’s what a Teulu does.”

“But—”

“No.” Zeph glared at Trevor. “No buts. This isn’t optional. We work, hunt, and fight as one unit, whether we’re together or not. Calan, as our leader, is the center of us, the one who links us and directs us. If we can’t trust that each member is going to follow his orders, then we are vulnerable. Failure becomes a real possibility, and with lives on the line, that can’t happen. So if obeying Calan isn’t something you can do, you’re wasting everyone’s time.”

Jaw clenched, Trevor nodded. Zeph made a good point. It didn’t mean Trevor had to like it, especially when he couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter what he did, he’d get left behind when the real fighting began. “I have followed the rules. Calan never specifically said I couldn’t go out.”

Zeph leaned forward, his elbows on the black laminate tabletop, and lowered his voice. “That’s because he never thought you’d be foolish enough to do so. Twice you’ve been in a redcap’s grasp. Calan thought those experiences with Raul and Craig would’ve been enough to convince you of the danger.”

Trevor didn’t need the reminder. The memories angered him, not for what had been done to him but over the pain he’d caused. Because of him, Harley had suffered at Raul’s hands, and Ian had gotten trapped in the fairy realm for close to a month. Both Raul and his brother Craig deserved every hellish torture they’d endure for eternity for their sins. All redcaps did.

“I do understand the danger.”

“Good. Then you’ll shut up and accept my company, or go back to the house until Ian and Tegan can investigate with you.”

Trevor finished his soda, then shoved the glass across the booth’s top. “Waiting is only putting innocents at risk. Craig needs to be stopped before he tires of playing with his victims and kills someone.”

“By you, right? That’s what this comes down to. You want revenge.”

Damn right he did. Admitting that after Zeph’s little talk about following the rules wouldn’t go over well. No doubt Calan would stop Trevor from making the kill, but he wanted it. No. He
needed
to make Craig suffer for the lives he’d taken, the pain he’d caused Allie, and the tears he’d made Rowan shed.

Trevor had heard her sobs as he’d drifted in and out of consciousness those first few hours in the hospital. Hearing her anguish and knowing he’d been the cause of it had freaking destroyed him. He’d wanted to comfort her. Hold her. Tell her he wasn’t worth it. He’d ended up pretending he hadn’t known. The tough female Hunter who gave him grief on a daily basis wouldn’t have wanted him to know she’d cried. For him.

“What answer do you want, Zeph? If I admit to wanting revenge, you’ll give me some lecture about how it doesn’t matter who strikes the blow as long as Craig’s taken out. If I say no, I’m not going after him for personal reasons, you’ll call me a liar.”

Zeph opened his mouth but closed it without saying anything. He grinned and motioned to the door with a tip of his chin. “We’ve been found.”