Taming the Hunted

by

Larisa Anderson

Taming the Hunted

Copyright © 2013, Larisa Anderson

ISBN: 9781940744001

Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.

Electronic Publication: November,
2013

Editor: Leigh Lamb

Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

eBooks are not transferable. No part
of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in
the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction and
any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is
purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination
and used fictitiously.

Hunting just got hotter.

Marian is a hunter of night creatures. She stalks and stakes
vampires, isn’t afraid of the odd silver bullet if a werewolf turns rogue, and
is perfectly content with her complete lack of social life.

When a staking goes wrong, a handsome, mesmerizing man comes
to Marian’s rescue. But Gabriel isn’t what he seems to be. After Marian loses
consciousness she awakes to find herself in a house filled with werewolves.

If she can survive the night she might discover that
sometimes opposites attract in the best ways. Now if she could just silence
that irritating little voice in the back of her mind that keeps reminding her
that hunters are supposed to kill creatures of the night, not date them.

Content Warning: contains mature language and graphic sexual
content

This book was very close to my heart, and I had such fun
writing it. It would not have been possible without my critique partners and
author group. Thank you to everyone who gave up their own time to read it and
help get it to my readers.

The fire leapt from the match and caught the corpse’s clothes
as the body started to burn, the smoke spiraling up in the breeze. Marian hoped he finished burning before it rained and extinguished the flickering orange and
green-tinged flames, or else the vampire would be back and causing havoc
tomorrow night. The dumpster she had hidden him in muffled the flames from
those passing the alley where she hid. Blackened smoke spiraled up into the sky
through the gaps in the battered dumpster lid. A slight shift in the
smoke-tinged wind gave away another presence behind her, and she turned,
balling her fists to defend herself, but she wasn’t fast enough to block him.

He knocked her off her feet with one swing of his broad arm,
and she sailed through the air. Her back slammed with a teeth-rattling thud
high into the trunk of a sturdy tree along the sidewalk. She dropped onto her
belly on the branch below and wrapped her arms and legs around its thin form to
keep from falling farther. Air caught in her chest as she struggled to draw
breath through clenched teeth. Adrenalin coursed through her veins as she
fought to regain her balance. She was twenty feet above the pavement and
scrambled for a better hold, her nails ripping and stinging as they gripped the
wood.

The vampire seemed to no longer consider her a threat and
bent to retrieve his mate from the bin with a snarl in her direction. What was
left of the blackened corpse hung in his arms as he disappeared into the fading
light, running at a speed that left a faint whiff of smoke from the dying
embers in his wake.

Marian cursed, thinking she’d have to waste another night on
that bloodsucker. As a hunter, it was her job to go where she was needed and
kill what evil she found. Night walkers were not bad as a whole. Those who
preyed on humans, however, brought a bounty upon themselves and should expect
to be hunted.

The sun sank lower in the sky, creating a deep orange-pink
glow over the city. If she had not been thinking of her impending fall from the
tree, she would have thought it beautiful. Instead, Marian cringed at the
thought of being stuck up there when the sun set and darkness took over. No
one, not even a hunter, liked to be in the city after night fall. Dusk and dawn
were the times she hunted, the sun keeping all but the hardest and oldest of
the night beings at bay; even those who came out in the day kept to the shadows.
She wasn’t interested in the little ones, the young and peaceful creatures.
Nightfall, however, was their time, when glowing eyes stalked from alleyways
and any creature could venture forth into the streets without fear of the light.
Those like her, who knew where to look, could see them. Worse, they recognized
her for what she was—a hunter, whose sole purpose in life was to rid the world
of their kind.

The tree swayed as a breeze kicked its leaves. She looked at
the pavement below and closed her eyes, gulping back fear. As she clung tighter
to the branch, the bark ripping at her exposed arms, a different feeling crept
over her skin. Goose bumps lifted all over her as she sensed a being approach,
something non-human.

The squeal of car brakes and the sharp, acrid smell of
burning rubber made her lurch. Her skin tore in small scratches and scrapes,
drawing pinpricks of blood which fell and traced along the rough, brown tree
limb. The sharp metallic tang of her blood filled her nose.

“What are you doing up there?” a deep male voice asked from
below.

The undertones of his words put Marian instantly on the
defensive, yet a calm settled over her, and her muscles relaxed as fog clouded
her thoughts, like someone was controlling them.

“Killing myself apparently,” she shouted down to him as she
fought to retain her cool, recalling her training. His voice resonated deep
with such seductive undertones that his simple words settled into her as she
struggled to focus on simple facts. Her name, the city, the day and year, all
memories she knew were true, and as she worked through the list, her mind
cleared. In her experience with vampires, when you felt calm speaking to one,
you were about to become their dinner. Vampires did not toy with their food;
they took it without hesitation or mesmerized their victim. Blood now coated
her arms in a sticky crimson lace. A vampire would not be able to contain
himself with the scent available to his sensitive nose.

“That doesn’t sound like such a good idea,” the man
commented.

She chanced a quick look down at him and saw a mop of wind-swept
black hair on a man who, from this angle, looked built to support heavy armor.
His body was all slabs of muscle over a solid, powerful frame. She sucked much
needed air into her lungs, releasing it through dry lips. He wasn’t a vampire,
she was sure of that.

The branch she clung to swayed in the wind and groaned under
her weight. She gulped back her fear, focusing on the man again. No vampire
could tan, and this man’s skin sported the deep, rusty hues of an islander.
Some of the older vampires, ones who avoided the light, had skin so light and
thin their veins were visible near the surface. There were worse creatures in
this city, but for Marian, vamps just gave her the creeps.

“If you have a better idea, I would love to hear it, mate.”
Her eyes closed tight as the ground started dropping away, her mind playing tricks
in its fear.

“You’re afraid of heights.” It wasn’t a question. “So why
did you decide to kill yourself by jumping from a height?”

“No one asked me if I would like to jump, or fall, but that
seems to be what God handed me, so that’s how I’m going to die.” Marian said
this all very fast as she tried not to dwell on the large beef hamburger she’d
had for lunch, which was making a sharp U-turn in her stomach. Her guts
clenched as a wave of nausea engulfed her.

“So you don’t want to kill yourself?”

“Have you not been listening?” she snapped, growing
agitated. Marian tried not to focus on the deep, sexy voice lacing through her
subconscious.

“Why did you climb the tree if you weren’t going to jump?”

Was that the hint of a snicker?
“Are you going to
talk to me all night or are you going to ninja up some way to get me down?” She
gulped several times to keep the burger in its place as the sharp taste of bile
rose in her throat.

“Are you going to ask me for help?”

His voice sent tremors through her, which had nothing to do
with fear. As though he spoke to her center, heat built there in response to
the purr as he pronounced each power-laced word.

“You’re laughing at me!” she scolded him. Swallowing, the
heat left her veins. “You’re laughing at me, and I’m going to barf on your
gorgeous head.” She heaved, a low sound deep in her chest.

The smile dropped from the man’s face, but he didn’t attempt
to move from the line of fire. He stood, strong and commanding, as if by sheer
will he could stop her from throwing up on him.

“You’re not going to throw up,” he told her.

“Damn straight I’m not going to throw up.” Why had she
thought she was going to hurl?

“You don’t need my help, you can descend yourself.”

Looking down to tell him to piss off, she saw the ground
fall away with a sharp lurch. Dread gripped her chest. “Oh my God, I’m going to
die
.” She screamed a little louder than she intended and several people
passing in the street below her turned to look.

“You can just climb down.”

The smooth melody of his voice held such authority, she felt
her body wanting to obey. Muscles flexed and moved as they took her weight,
readying her to jump.

Marian
, her mind said,
this isn’t what you want to
do. Think.
The command slid off her like water over glass as she
subconsciously raised her barriers.

“Fuck off!” She looked down. His angular face turned toward
her, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “What?” Her traitorous voice cracked.

“No one has ever refused me.”

His gorgeous eyes gazed up at her. Marian put it down to
light-headedness making her think such things. One foolish mistake and look at
the predicament she was in.

The surprise in his words was as plain as the shock on his
well-defined face. He wasn’t human. The ability to control minds, which he
seemed to have, made him wolf or demon. She hoped for the latter, but either
way she needed his help to get out of there before something nastier came
looking for her. She took a deep breath to settle her fluttering pulse and
closed her eyes so she couldn’t see the drop below her.

“I get that a lot. I guess I’m good for keeping your ego
down.” It was true. Marian was too stubborn to let anyone control her mind, and
others had tried, several hundred times. “Now please get me out of here.”

“So, now you need my assistance?”

“Get me down!”

He chuckled.

Asshole.

He stepped up to the tree. Grasping it, he rammed his
shoulder into the trunk, causing a violent shudder.

“Arrrr, what the fuck? Are you trying to kill me?” Her heart
throbbed hard in her ribs as if trying to escape from her chest. She could hear
the roar of her blood in her ears, echoing around in her head.

“No, although fucking might not be a bad idea.” He barged
the tree again, his teeth flashing into a grin in the glow of the setting sun.

Marian screamed and considered letting go just to throw one
of the knives hidden on her body at him. He shook the tree again and the branch
she lay on shuddered. Her grasp slipped and she fell fast toward the sidewalk,
the air rushing past her.

She felt a jolt and wondered why death hadn’t hurt. Should
she be able to think when she was dead? Not only could she still think, but she
could smell the scent of the musk of male skin.

Marian opened her eyes to see the man watching her with a
look of pure smugness tugging at the corner of his mouth. His full lips were
framed with a straight cut jaw and rough stubble, his arms cradling her as if
she weighed nothing. Her heart beat fast from the adrenalin. She tried to
focus, but had trouble keeping her eyes open.

“When I wake up, you are so dead.” All she could think of
was his deep, very male smell and the warmth of his arms as he pushed past the
audience they had attracted and carried her to his car before she slipped into
blackness.

Marian woke to a heady scent filling her senses. A spice she
couldn’t name in her addled state, yet it aroused her every nerve and drove a
damp heat through her core. Sweeping her hand across silken sheets, she tried
to cling to the scent, savoring it as she pulled it into her lungs. Rolling,
she took a plush pillow in her arms, wincing as her skin stung across the
shallow wounds there. Recollection hit her fast as she jolted to wakefulness
and fell from the bed to the old, rough carpet. She twisted in the sheets which
encased her, her limbs caught up in their folds. A furious battle ensued as she
struggled to free first her legs, then her arms, from their smooth embrace.

Free at last, she stood and moved to the window, hoping to
identify her surroundings. Darkness pressed in on her with only the distant
city lights glowing against the black sky. The dark arms of trees circled the
home, which she could see from her lofty vantage point, was large. Wherever she
was, she wasn’t going home tonight. Only the brave, suicidal, or stupid went
into the city at night. She was, of course, the exception, but this was too
late even for her liking.

There was a tap at the door. She dropped into a defensive
crouch as her hands went to her hip and the concealed daggers arranged there. A
tall, sullen man walked in with a bread roll steaming on a plate alongside a
bowl of something which smelled like stew. Marian sniffed, but didn’t take her
eyes from his face. Her stomach growled in hunger as her muscles clenched and
coiled, ready to fight her way out.

The man’s skin was waxy and stretched tight across his high
cheekbones. Vampire.

“Good evening. My name is Kennard Watkins.”

Kennard was a tall man, six-foot-two at least, and so pale
his veins showed through his skin. He wore black, leather pants and a tailored
white shirt rolled to his elbows. For some reason, his feet were bare, his
toenails painted a bright blood red.

“I shall let Gabriel know you are awake.”

He must have thought she was slow; he spoke in clear
syllables, and she saw him pocket the butter knife with a backward glance as he
left. Did he suspect what she was? Marian stayed by the window for a moment
until she felt sure the vampire, Kennard, had enough time to move away from the
room before she hurried to the door. Listening through the wood for the soft
pad of footfalls, she was met with the silence an older house offered. The soft
creaks of old timbers and the call of night animals were the only sounds to
reach her ears. She eased the door open, her free hand poised at her lower back
over the longer blade she carried there.

Moving an inch out of the doorframe, she smacked into a
solid, black-shirted chest she was sure had not been there a second ago, and
stumbled back into the room. “Shit!”

“You’re awake,” the guy who saved her said.

She assumed he was Gabriel, the one Kennard mentioned.

The room seemed to shrink with the size of him as he moved
forward. She thought he was big before, but now she could see he had a good few
inches on Kennard with shoulders so wide she was surprised he fit through the
doorway. The heady scent filled her nose once more, the scent of his body
triggered her memory of each time she’d encountered the spice that day. It
seemed to drop into her center, flowing through all her senses and setting them
on fire. She inhaled and felt herself respond to his presence in a warming of
her pussy lips.

“You okay?” he asked, looking down at her sprawled on the
carpet and barely suppressing a choked laugh at her shock.

Scrambling to her feet, she pulled her shirt down to settle
over her waist, checking her hidden knives as she did. She would take this turn
of events as she did her life—if he tried anything, she would stab him.

She thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch again,
but it was so fast she couldn’t be sure. His gaze on her body made her shudder.
He watched her like a cat stalking its prey, cautious and predatory. She felt
cornered, vulnerable, and she wasn’t sure she would resist if he tried
anything.

His hand shot out as if to steady her, but instead dropped
to trace the length of her arm. A trail of fire followed his contact. As he
reached the tips of her fingers, he paused before letting his hand drop to his
side. Her body slumped, wanting to follow that tantalizing hand back to its
owner. One thing stopped her, her mind remained clear; he wasn’t controlling
her as he’d tried to do earlier. He must have felt secure with her in this
building.

“Why did you bring me here, to what I assume is your house?”
She had to find out more about this man and this place if she hoped to get home
in one piece.

He nodded. “You passed out and since I don’t know where you
live, I thought it best to bring you here until you felt better.”

He watched her as he lowered himself into a chair on one
side of the room. Her gaze moved to the bulge in his slacks. A gust of air pushed
from her lungs as she tried to clear her head.

“What?” she asked when he didn’t appear to want to share his
thoughts. Her hand slipped to the small of her back where she gripped the
comforting flat hilt of her silver dagger.

“You’re quite fascinating when you sleep.”

He slid deeper in the chair, his lips parted as if he tasted
her in the air, those large hands flexed over his taut stomach.

“You watched me! That’s so…”
Hot, sweet, sexy, weird.
“Weird.”

“Who is Lione?” he asked, not looking disturbed by invading
her personal time.

“None of your business. And for the record, pal,” she
snapped, crossing the room and jabbing a finger in his chest. “No more watching
me. My dreams are my business.” She knew she talked in her sleep and shuddered
at the thought of what he may have heard.

“So you intend on staying here again?” He grinned, showing a
wide mouth full of almost sharp, white teeth, cased in broad lips.

Marian felt her face heat and took an unconscious step back.
His eyes sparkled in the artificial light of the city and she noticed for the
first time that they were yellow, not light brown, but yellow like a lion. She leaned
toward him, coming within inches of his face. Realizing what she was doing, she
shook herself. His hands were faster than her resolve. Before she could move away
from him, he grasped her face, pausing for just a moment before pressing his
lips hard against hers.

His mouth tasted like ripe peaches. His kiss moved against
her lips as he parted them with his tongue. She resisted at first, but her body
gave in to the need for physical contact. She groaned and allowed her urges to
take over as she climbed forward onto him, lowering herself to straddle his lap
like a grown-up kid on Santa Claus, with her legs folded on either side of his
against the armrests. Her hand fell from her clutch on her blade and rose to
cup his rough, stubbled chin, drawing his mouth harder to hers. His large hands
slid across the concave of her neck down to the curve of her hip. His hands
rose again, and he slid her shirt up her waist. She shifted and felt the
growing bulge that was his warm cock stirring against her crotch.

His teeth nipped her neck in a gesture that was all too
familiar and arousing. The sharp pain brought her back to her surroundings.
What was she doing! She pushed him away and stood, pulling her shirt down and
thanking the gods he hadn’t gotten it high enough to reveal her concealed
blades. She assumed he knew she had them, after all, the man had all but
carried her there. Still, she wanted what was hidden to stay hidden.

“So, um. What are you all doing up after nightfall anyway?”
Her words came out breathless and rushed.

He chuckled, that fire still in those yellow eyes, which
watched her as she tried to shift the feelings he’d awakened in her just
moments ago. “You can hardly judge all of us by me and Kennard,” he replied.

“There are more of you?” she asked.

“Yes, most of my pa—um, friends live here.”

“How many is most?”

“At last count, there were ten people living here, including
myself.”

“Ten!” The back of her neck prickled. She could take on one,
but ten...

“Is there a reason you live with a vampire?” she asked,
needing to know what she was up against here. His expression did not show
surprise that she knew what Kennard was.

“He was kicked out of his coven in a rather elaborate
fashion. I stepped in and now he feels he owes me.”

“You’re not nervous having him around?” She watched his eyes
for some indication of whether he told the truth or not. Vamps and wolves were
notorious for their feuds; hunting the same prey resulted in turf wars. She was
sure now, after that bite, that he was a werewolf. The last one to try and mark
her had been Lione. She shuddered at the thought and pushed the memory away so
she could focus on the situation at hand.

“He thinks we taste bad,” he replied, grinning.

He stood, unfolding like a great panther, and stalked past
her to the door. She breathed in as he passed, his scent lingering, making her
heart give an extra beat. He held the door open and gestured for her to take a
look out into the hall with a sweep of one broad hand. She made sure to stand a
little behind him where she could see any move he might make, taking the
opportunity to admire the curves and dimples of his ass through his tailored
trousers which sat a little too snug around his hips. She always appreciated a
man who took care of himself. Realizing where her thoughts were leading, she
cast the idea out. Night stalkers and hunters did not hook-up.

Looking around his great ass, she found they were standing
in the second floor hallway, which opened onto the entryway below. A wooden
rail ran the length of the hall with stairs at each end leading to the entry.

“Like it? It was being used as a bed-and-breakfast until we
moved in.”

“Where are the rest of your friends?” she asked, noting that
the house was quiet and still.

“Out, they should be back soon.” He looked like he wanted to
say more, but thought better of it. Closing his mouth, he ushered her to the
end of the hall.

“They must be brave to be out at night.” Her body was coiled
in tension in the unfamiliar surroundings, each step calculated and her eyes
scanning for exits as they walked.

“They can take care of themselves.” He started down the
metal stairs that spiraled to the bottom level. He was at the bottom before he
seemed to realize she wasn’t behind him. “Come on.”

“I think I’ll just go back to our, my, your room,” she
stated before sliding back along the wall so that she didn’t present her back
to him. Her hands clenched and unclenched as she fought to keep the fear at bay,
her eyes firmly fixed on the solid floor beneath her feet.

He was at her side before she moved more than two steps.
Grasping her elbow lightly, he turned her face. His hand felt hot on her skin,
but she kept her arms by her sides and her eyes focused on the faded red carpet
under her feet.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding surprised at her sudden
change in mood.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m afraid of heights.”

He was silent for a moment, and she felt drawn to look up at
his face to see what he was thinking. She couldn’t read voices as well as body
language and needed to know if he was angry with her.

“But it’s only one floor up.”

She looked straight up. It was a bad idea to gaze into those
incredible golden eyes. Her brain started to scramble and her breath caught in
her chest. She tried to tell herself it was from the fear, but the heat rising in
her chest and the fluid pooling between her legs had nothing to do with the
height. With him just inches from her, she could feel the heat of his body
through his shirt and shuddered as his breath warmed her neck.

“I won’t let you fall,” he whispered.

She nodded and tried to calm her breath as the dizziness
from the heightened lust welled in her body. His smell was like a pheromone,
setting every cell in her body on fire.

She felt him guide her to the top of the stairs, her gaze
still fixed somewhere between his face and shoulders. His arm was firm and
comforting around her waist as he lifted her into his arms and jumped over the
banister, landing hard, but balanced, on the floor below. The air left her
lungs in a huff of surprise as they landed.

“What’s the hurry?” she asked, breathless as he set her on
her feet again. His hand accidentally—or not—brushed the sensitive path up her
ass and the curve of her back.

He gave her a smile, showing too many teeth, and his eyes
sparkled, enticing her in.

A choked laugh pushed past her lips, feeling like a fool,
forgetting her training at one smile from this guy. She looked around the foyer
in an attempt to orient herself. She could hear noise now, low voices
murmuring. A room led off to one side, and she could see Kennard in there,
reading the paper on a beige lounge. Intrigued by the vampire who lived with his
natural enemy, she went to investigate, stepping across the foyer. She felt Gabriel follow and made sure to keep him in sight.

Pushing open the door and entering the room, she was
surprised to find a small girl, no more than ten, sitting at Kennard’s feet and
painting his toenails red before a large, empty fireplace.

“Hello,” the girl said not looking up.

Something about her voice made shivers crawl up Marian’s back. That voice should have belonged to a much older woman. She studied the girl, not
trusting anyone to be what they seemed in this house where vampires and wolves
coexisted. She had no shoes, dirty nails, and short, cropped blonde hair that
cupped her round face.

“Yours?” she asked Kennard who hadn’t looked up from his
paper at her entrance.

“I belong to no one,” the girl stated, glancing up.