Taming the Hunted Read online

  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.

  Back Cover Copy

  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

  Dedication

  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.

  Chapter 1

  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 gul
ped 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.

  Chapter 2

  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 ou
t 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.