Huntbound (Moonfate Serial Book 2) (9 page)

“I’m—”

Orion cuts me off by pulling me into his bare chest. He’s holding me so tightly I can’t breathe. Maybe he really is going to kill me. Maybe it’s a death I’d welcome. Anything would be better than this.

The woman’s cries burn into my eardrums. They sound just like my mother’s, the surprise, the animalistic sound of them, the lack of humanity in her death. Oh, God. She’s being ripped to pieces. My jagged fingernails dig into Orion’s skin. I can’t be here. I can’t watch this happen again. Even if it’s happening to someone who tried to kill me.

But Orion doesn’t let me go. He doesn’t even look at me.

Behind me the woman’s screams soften, turning to pathetic, whimpering gurgles. She’s dying.

“Cal!” Orion shouts over my head. “Enough.”

The tiger roars, and it holds none of the melody of Orion’s wolf’s cry; it’s all unadulterated, angry predator.

“N-no.” I shake my head and press against Orion. I’m so overwhelmed I don’t even care that he’s completely naked against me. “Tell the tiger to stop. Please.”

“The tiger has a name,” drawls a low, smoky voice from behind me. “Which you should ask for, so that you can say a proper thank you for just saving your sorry ass.”

“Cal,” says Orion, his grip loosening around me, in shock or I don’t know what. I take his relaxation as my chance to turn around, the horror forgotten for a second as I try to register the reality of one important and yet impossible truth.

The tiger is a she.

And not just any she. A very naked, bloody she.

How can this be possible? Every werebeast is a man. It’s been that way since the beginning of time.

But there’s no arguing her gender.

She stands in front of the body of the werecoyote’s mate, her large, voluptuous form completely naked. Her curves make mine look like indents, but she’s fitter than me, too. Almost as much muscle as fat.

Going by that, I would’ve guessed she was Indian, but her hair is something that could only be called an atomic explosion of black curls. Stripes of orange and black fur crisscross her limbs like furry scars. If she hadn’t just transformed into a tiger I would’ve sworn they were a matemark. Maybe they still are, but she isn’t the mate being taken like I was. She is clearly the one doing the taking.

Cal. As in, his best friend. As in, the other FBSI agent.

“So, are you going to thank me or not?” Cal gives me a fierce smile. Even her human teeth are still stained with red. The woman’s blood.

“
You’re
Cal. You work with Orion at the FBSI?”

“Give the girl a cookie, ’Rion.”

I shudder, staring at the broken body of the woman behind her. “You killed her. You didn’t have to kill her.”

Her sneer widens and coupled with the blood on her teeth, it makes her whole mouth look like a violent gash across her face. “Just because I’m a mutant doesn’t mean I’m fucking Batman, and this isn’t some stupid video game. You don’t get any points for not killing the bad guys, human.”

“My name is Artemis,” I say. I try to cross my arms, but Orion’s hands fly to my wrists, rendering me immobile. He’s treating me like a child.

Cal rolls her eyes and with the back of her hand wipes off the blood still staining her lips. “You and every other girl in the county. Jesus. You’d think the name would’ve gone out of style after the whole Artemis Williams fiasco, but humans are fucking sheep.”

I flinch at hearing my name, but Orion doesn’t. I can feel his every muscle, so either he really does have no idea who I am, or he’s got very good control over his body. Probably both.

“And I’d appreciate you not staring at me like I’m a mutant, human.” She leans down and licks the back of her hand, as if that will clean up the blood.

God, they’re monsters, they really are. All of them. Behind Cal is the bike, one wheel digging into the dirt, surrounded by a confetti of black fabric. Of course. “You were on the motorcycle.”

Cal hisses and bares her teeth. “You’ve got your own little private eye. You should have your own buddy cop TV show. Arrogant bastard tracker and his intellectually stunted mate.”

“Cal,” Orion says sharply. “You can insult me all you like, but you
will
be polite to Artemis.”

Cal recoils, and if it weren’t for the fact that I’m trying my best not to look at the body behind her, I might try to parse out her reaction and wonder if they had a history. As it is, I’m just wondering if I’m going to throw up.

“It was just a joke, ’Rion,” she says. “You know how I am.”

Orion’s hands snake around my middle, pushing me against him. The possessiveness should be attractive, as should his already hardening cock against my thigh. But all I can feel is fear.

“Did Stephania decode the phone?” he asks.

“Not yet. She’s working on it,” says Cal.

“How about O’Mailey? Has he found any leads on the werebeast herd moving south? Do we think they’re related?”

“Nope. But give him a couple more hours with the computer crew and he’ll start swearing at them in Gaelic. Then they’ll get some shit done.”
 

“So what you’re telling me is that we’re no closer to finding the vampire than we were seven hours ago.”

“Wait. I found a bit of Lawrence’s t-shirt in the van. Can we use that?” I open up my left hand enough to show the scrap of cloth, but not enough to let it fall.

Orion steals it from my grasp and brings it to his nose, inhaling. “This has been doused in silver nitrate. Probably all of Lawrence’s clothing was, along with the coyote’s weremate. It’s useless.”

“Well, you have him.” Cal nods at the limp body of the coyote only a few feet away from us. Then she gives a wicked smile. “Do you want to question him or should I?”

“I’ll be doing it. You’re going to be taking Artemis back to headquarters.”

“What?” I squawk.

Orion tightens his grip. “She might try to run. She has an irritating tendency to do that.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say. “I have to find Lawrence.”

“Shut up, human,” barks Cal.

“Cal,” Orion growls. “I won’t warn you again.”

“Or what?” she sneers. “Going to use your werecall on me? Don’t see how you could, since you can’t even control your own mate.”

“And how about your mate, Cal? How is he?” Orion says quietly.

Cal’s entire face falls, her sneer replaced by a cold, hard, small expression. “You fuckwad.”

“Get changed, take care of the coyote and meet at my car in twenty minutes. I need to speak with my mate.”

“You know you’re technically not my boss,” Cal spits.

From behind me I can feel Orion give a strained smirk into my hair. “Then it’s a good thing you hate technicalities.”

Chapter Fifteen

Orion doesn’t even bother with a change of clothes before he hauls me toward a small wooded area at the end of the field. Normally, my eyes would be drawn to his nakedness, would devour the way his long cock swings with his stride, but anger, fear and shock have mixed in my veins to form a powerful antidote to desire.

His friend killed a weremate. Just like that. Just tore her in two the same way werebeasts killed my parents seven years ago. And I have no doubt that Orion could’ve — would’ve — done the same. But I don’t say any of this. I don’t even fight it at as Orion drags me off to God knows where.

I have no right to fight him anymore. I shot a silver bullet right in his direction.

The underbrush transforms, closely cropped grass growing taller and wilder. “Where are you taking me?” I sound breathless, perhaps from the none-too-slow pace that Orion has taken up, possibly from the fear.

Fear of him.

“Somewhere we can talk without Cal nosing in.”

“About what—”

“Hush.” His words are soft, but underscoring them is the powerful thread of his werecall.

My lips seal themselves shut. I couldn’t even question him if I wanted to. Dread itches in my veins. Is this how it’s going to be now? Him commanding me every moment, afraid that if he doesn’t I might shoot him?

I would do it again, though. If it meant saving Lawrence, I would. I would risk anything.

Soon the tall grasses give way to oaks and maples, but mostly those long, spindly trees that grow on the sides of highways whose names I don’t know. It seems more like an illusion of what the wilderness should be, than what it actually is.

It must be good enough for Orion, though, because he stops when we’re only a hundred feet in, lets go of my hand and pivots to face me. In the half-darkness caused by the dwindling sunset and the patchy canopy above us he looks even more like a demon. And his eyes… They’re still glowing with an icy fury directed straight at me.

I deserve it.

“Do you want to die, Artemis?”

“No.”

“No?” He shakes his head once and takes a step closer to me. “No?”

“No.” I take a step back, but my voice doesn’t shake. “I was aiming for the coyote, not you.”
 

A twig snaps under his bare foot, and knowing his gracefulness I can’t help but feel he did that on purpose. A warning. “Why in the seven astrums would you even exit the car?”

“I wanted to help,” I say. The moment the words have left my mouth I realize how lame they sound.

He throws back his head and laughs, although there’s no real humor in the sound, and it’s discordantly loud enough that I notice a squirrel start in the bush behind him. “You wanted to help me? Oh, you’ll have to do better than that, little one.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” I step around a tree, hoping to put some leaves between us.

“When have you ever wanted to do anything to benefit me?” He stops on the other side of the trunk so I can only see half of his face, but I don’t have to see his entire expression to be able to read the incredulity in his voice.

The worst part is, he’s right. I didn’t get out of the car to save him. I didn’t even get out of the car just to save Lawrence, really. I did it to atone for my past mistakes, but in the process I only made more.

I brush my hand against the bark. “I’m so sorry.” The words scratch at my throat on the way out. “But I didn’t know that Lawrence wasn’t there. What if he had been hurt and wasn’t able to get out of the car? There was smoke in there. He could’ve suffocated. I had to find him.”
 

Orion emerges from the other side of the tree and my heart falls when I note the tension in his naked muscles. “And you think I wouldn’t have rescued your friend?”

“No, but you were busy with the werecoyote and maybe you wouldn’t have been as quick as—”

With what looks like only a few steps, he’s suddenly behind me, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear with a perilous gentleness. “You would’ve been faster than me?”

I turn around, but he’s already gone. “No, I—”

“You wouldn’t have.” He’s leaning against a nearby ash, his posture relaxed, but his chin almost to his chest and his eyes still unrepentantly piercing.

“I was trying to be strong. You said you wanted a strong mate!” I slam my fist against the trunk so hard a single green leaf spirals down from above.

He explodes, his gaze darting from tree to tree, jaw opening, and lets out what can only be described as a howl. “You almost died! Do you have any idea what that would’ve done to me?”

Each of his words is like a physical assault, and the same tree I was abusing a minute before I grab onto for support. “D-done to
you
? You barely know me.”

His eyes narrow until they’re nothing but twin slits of pure arctic fire. “Barely know you,” he whispers. “I’ve made you scream my name, Artemis. I’ve tasted your body and walked through your dreams. And you’ve walked through mine.”

“That wasn’t real. And even if it was, we only met forty-eight hours ago. Less than that! I don’t know how you can just expect me to trust you so quickly. When—” I bite my lip. “Matemark or no. It’s crazy! I don’t know if you saw back there, but a werecoyote’s mate just held a blade to my throat and told me I smelled like old blood. What does that even mean, Orion? Old blood? Not to mention the fact that you neglected to tell me you’re a member of the FBSI. Or, I don’t know, that your best friend’s a bitchy weretigress who hates humans. Me in particular. I have no idea how I’m supposed to trust you. And I didn’t have a choice. Lawrence has been with me through everything. I…”

As he watches me rant and rave, I keep half-expecting him to interrupt me, but he never does. Somehow that’s worse. Even after I trail off, he lets silence fall over the space between us until it’s suffocatingly quiet and all I can hear is the whispering of the breeze through the leaves.