Destiny Unchained (7 page)

Oh,
just stop!
Her head spun. This was ridiculous. She was
acting like a love-drunk idiot.

She’d been travelling north for two days, stopping in
every town larger than ten thousand residents, eavesdropping among
the bar patrons and watching news reports. And every step of the
way, she looked for Cristian, expecting to see him trailing behind
her. It had been three days since he’d made the promise – or
threat, depending on how she looked at it – that he’d see her
again. But there was no trace of him. Could she really have shaken
him this time?

Part of her was happy he seemed to have disappeared.
Life would go on as usual. She’d hunt, she’d kill, she’d report to
the witches. This was how her life had passed: weeks turned into
months, months into years. It all felt like a blink of an eye yet
eternity at the same time.

But part of her secretly longed to spar with the
werewolf again, even just to break up the monotony. There was
something about him that made her feel safe. Protected. Wanted. The
timing couldn’t have sucked worse. Focus was crucial as she
narrowed in on the Slayer. Cristian was a distraction. A fucking
sexy as hell distraction, but one she couldn’t afford.

She shuddered, remembering his sharp teeth on her
earlobe. He’d bitten her. The gall. Her lips twitched, as did the
body under her hand.
Focus!

She’d been hot on the Slayer’s heels, and just when
she thought she had him cornered, the dying wolf went and muddied
it up. Twice she’d gotten turned around because of the bloodshed.
Had she been close to the Slayer at all, or had she mistaken the
wolf for him?

The creature’s injuries were not by a hunter’s hand.
Someone had stabbed the thing and left it to die. Hunters would
have taken the body, at least for bragging rights if not for the
fur. A predator would have eaten it. Had a vampire tried to drain
it then gotten spooked when Natalia was close? She looked down at
the blood pooling in the dirt. Cristian had said it made vampires
stronger. Strong enough to catch up with the Slayer and finish him
once and for all?

Human blood tasted good, supernatural blood superb,
but in desperation she’d resorted to animals in the past. It
wouldn’t be hard to take just one little taste. The wolf was going
to die anyway.

As if it knew what she was thinking, its black eyes
rolled to look up at her, pleading. And all she could see was
Cristian’s love for the animals under his protection. And his
disappointment if he ever found out what she’d done. Though she had
no idea why that bothered her, it did.

With a sigh she patted the gray wolf’s head. “Better
to do it quick.” She took out her knife, lowered it just above the
heart, and stabbed it quick and hard. It died instantly. She wiped
the knife on her pants then tucked it back into its sheath.

Leaves rustled behind her. She froze. Her palm curled
around the knife handle. A tangy scent hit the air. Every muscle in
her body stiffened as she focused on the presence behind her.
Closer it moved. She could hear its breath, calm and steady. With a
burst of energy she jumped up, spun, and stabbed at the dark figure
a few feet away. She caught the scent of gunpowder one second too
late. The bullet grazed her shoulder. She winced then shut out the
pain. With a mental push, the knives tucked into her boots soared
toward her attacker. He grunted when one lodged in his thigh. She
ran at him full speed then leapt in the air with a spinning
kick.

The gun went off. Searing pain exploded in her back
and she fell to the ground. The lower half of her body tingled then
dulled. She was numb.

Bullet to the spine. Oh joy.

Footsteps rustled the leaves as black spots dotted
her vision. She fought to stay alert. The sharp bite of a needle in
her arm sent a pit of dread to her stomach. She had enough energy
to push the bullet out of her spine before the world went
black.

A dark chuckle echoed around her. Bark bit into her
back, her arms pulled painfully behind her. She was tied to a tree.
Again.

“So you’re the Huntress.” The deep voice made chills
run down her spine.

She opened her heavy eyelids and got her first look
at the Silver Slayer. And to her surprise, he was handsome. Dark,
exotic, with impeccable clothing and trimmed hair. She’d expected a
monster – crooked teeth, dirty, ugly, someone who looked like the
evil he created.

Figures. Sometimes the devil wore a three-piece suit
and a smile. She should know.

He bent down and stared in her eyes. “You don’t look
like much.” His gaze swept over her. “But the Magistrate wants you.
A hundred thousand dollar reward for your capture. That’s pretty
impressive.”

Yeah, she was a regular celebrity.

“You don’t seem so dangerous.” His mouth curled up in
a lop-sided smile. It was all devil. No charm, just sadistic
intent. It made her skin crawl. “At least not all tied up and
helpless like this. What is it you do that they’re so afraid
of?”

Wouldn’t you like to know?
She remained silent.

“Nothing to say? Well, maybe this will loosen your
tongue.” Slowly, he removed the knife she’d used on the wolf from
her pocket.

Struggling against the binds was useless. He’d tied
them so tight her fingers were numb from lack of circulation. The
important thing was to maintain consciousness. And to learn as much
as she could about the Slayer – all to kill him easier in the end.
“Why don’t you just kill me?”

“I don’t want to kill you, Huntress.” He ran a finger
down her cheek. It was as cold as his heart – as her heart too.

Maybe they were kindred spirits. Shit, now she knew
she’d lost a lot of blood. She was slipping into Crazy Land.

“I get a thrill out of the hunt too,” he said. “We’re
not so different, you and I. You believe your loose morals dictate
the right people to kill. I don’t.” With the knife he cut straight
through her shirt. “That’s the only difference between the hunter
and the hunted.”

She rolled her eyes. “Is this how you’re going to
torture me? Spewing philosophical bullshit? I prefer the
knife.”

He chuckled though his eyes blackened with a hint of
rage. “The knife it is then.” He pressed the point into the skin
above her right breast. A burning sensation gave way to warm blood
rising to the surface then dripping down her chest.

“Will you survive my games this time?” He grinned. “I
guess we’ll find out.”

And so the fun began.

The slippery vampire had taken every precaution to
hide her trail. But her exotic beauty gave her away. The residents
of the small towns between Rider’s Landing and Milltown, just south
of the Montana border, knew and respected Cristian. They were loose
with their tongues regarding “the red head in leather with the nice
ass.” Yes, he’d noticed that ass too. And he longed to have some
fun with it. But he had to be sure he was hunting with his head,
not his cock. Natalia wasn’t likely to respect a stray pup. No, he
needed to be strong and confident when he handled her. She would
eat a spineless man for breakfast.

After they’d separated three nights ago, he called
Sorin and explained the situation. He was surprised to learn a few
men had heard of the Silver Slayer. Surprised because his pack
purposefully tuned out the rest of the world, keeping this small
corner of the country to themselves. Actually, it was the younger
members of the pack who knew the most about the Slayer. Cristian’s
fear that the Magistrate would become involved was unfounded. The
Magistrate wasn’t interested in stopping the Slayer. Curious. The
kids had excitedly told him that it was a conspiracy. The Slayer
had something on the Magistrate that kept them from hunting him
down. Cristian had thanked them for the information, unsure of what
to believe. But Magistrate or no, this was still his territory. And
the Silver Slayer would pay for his crimes.

He found a lone motorcycle covered in her scent
parked where a trailhead merged with the main road. From there,
hunting was easy. That is, until her scent mingled with a wolf. A
true wolf, not one of his kind, but the ones he worked so hard to
protect. He inhaled a lungful of the potent odor. It had bled, a
lot, and the vampire had been with it. Fury erupted in his chest
and he sprinted headlong toward the source of the smell. She’d lied
to him.

He found the wolf first. Stab wounds marked its
belly, then one through the heart. But all that magic-filled blood
matted in his fur and pooled in the dirt. He was beginning to doubt
his initial suspicion that Natalia had drank the wolf’s blood. If
she wanted to get high, why would she have stabbed it then left the
blood behind?

He took another deep breath and stilled when it hit
him. One of his kind but not pack. And Natalia. Looking closer, he
noticed a trail of blood leading north. He memorized the scent then
tore through the trees.

A mile from the dead wolf, he came to an abrupt stop
in a patch of sparsely wooded forest. Natalia was bound to a tree,
covered in blood, shirtless, and alone. Her head hung limply and
the only indication she was alive was a slight twitch of her
shoulders when he approached. He yearned to cut her free and cradle
her in his arms, but with a great deal of effort, stopped himself.
Natalia wouldn’t give the time of day to someone she didn’t
respect. Coddling her would only push her away. She was mercenary
to the core, and to get anything from her, he would need to be
mercenary too.

He got down on one knee and lifted her head with his
hand under her chin. Bruises covered her face and her lip bled, but
she met his gaze with clear blue eyes.

“We really have to stop meeting up like this,” she
rasped.

His lips twitched. “Still too proud to ask for
help?”

“I’m stubborn, not stupid.” She swallowed hard, her
gaze never leaving his. “Help me.”

“That’s not asking.”

She nearly managed a sneer. “Help me or don’t, but
don’t gloat. It’s obnoxious.” Weakly, she pulled from his
grasp.

“Agree to accept my help hunting the Silver Slayer
and I’ll free you and keep you safe until you heal.”

“Forget it.” She wiggled her shoulders then hissed in
a breath and sagged.

He took a moment to inspect her injuries. There was
so much blood he could hardly see where it came from. But he
couldn’t miss the deep gash that ran the width of her abdomen. He
was surprised her intestines were still inside. And when he looked
closer he could see the letter S carved above her right breast.

Bastard. He inhaled a deep breath, turning his anger
into determination. “Would it be so bad to work with me?”

“You’re a control freak. You’d take over my
investigation.”

He arched a brow. “And how do you know that?”

“You’re a man.”

A chuckle escaped him. “I’ll try to contain my…manly
urges.” He sensed her reluctance and pushed. “I think you’d be
surprised how reasonable I can be.”

Blue eyes stared at him, guarded and lonely. He
wanted to fill them with joy.

“What are the terms?”

“The terms?”

“I’m not going blindly into a deal without spelling
out the terms first.”

He sighed. “Talia, you’re about to pass out. We’ll
work out the terms later.” She cast him a wary glance. “Come on.
Have a little trust.”

He had a feeling her reluctant nod had nothing to do
with her willingness to trust him, but all to do with her lack of
better options. Either way, he sliced through her binds and helped
her to her feet. A sign of just how injured she was, she leaned
into him when he wrapped an arm around her waist. Then all her
weight fell onto him and he cursed. She was half-dead.

She made a move to pull away but he tightened his arm
around her. A weak growl was her response.

“Talia, you’re hurt.”

“No shit.”

He thrust his wrist to her mouth. “Drink.”

“I don’t drink from dogs.”

With a small shake he ordered again, “Drink!”

“No.”

He exploded. Anger at the Slayer, frustration with
Talia’s stubbornness, sadness for the dying wolves – all of it came
to a head. “For fuck’s sake, Natalia!” He pinned her arms to her
sides and grabbed her face with one of his hands. “You are going to
drink, or by God, I will force you!”

Her eyes widened, dropped to his wrist then narrowed.
“All right, werewolf. If you insist.” Fangs slid down below her top
lip and she gave him a grim look before biting into his vein.

He’d been bitten plenty by werewolves – in play, in
combat, and in practice. But this…this curvy woman in skin tight
leather and velvety lips was a real life wet dream. He hissed in an
agonized breath.

A strand of hair fell in front of her face, blocking
his view. Gently, he swept it back behind her ear. It was soft,
like down feathers. Not able to stop himself, he continued to
stroke her hair tenderly. He hadn’t touched a woman this way in a
long time. “Yes, Talia. Drink. Take all you need.”

As if she just remembered where she was, her eyes
flew open. She pulled her fangs from his skin. Her gaze, wild and
intense, remained on him. Already her face regained its color and
she stood on her own, her strength back. Blood stained her lips
making her fangs gleam against the crimson liquid. His shaft
hardened instantly at the erotic vision. She looked like a goddess
of night. Dark and mysterious. A haunting beauty that was dangerous
and unattainable.

Deep in her fathomless blue eyes the smallest flicker
of emotion glittered. Lust.

He wasn’t beyond taking advantage of that. His hand
drifted from her hair, down her cheek where he wiped the blood from
her lip with his finger. She took a tentative step toward him, her
gaze locked on his neck. He reached around her waist and pulled her
into his arms. Then he kissed her.