The Hunted (63 page)

Read The Hunted Online

Authors: Kristy Berridge

Tags: #Fiction, #Horror, #Romance, #General

‘You said that you found some new trails today?’ I asked.

‘Yes, we did. Unfortunately the news isn’t good.’

I frowned. ‘What’s happened?’

His face was grim. ‘I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t consult you first, but I’ve already contacted your parents and told them what’s going on. I’ve asked them to get everyone back to Cairns as soon as possible. There isn’t just an alpha here anymore. Thomas and I picked up two extra scents today. The alpha has already started forming a new pack.’

I cupped a hand to my mouth in shock. ‘Did they believe you? Are they coming back?’

He shrugged. ‘I hope so. I spoke to Susan. She’s a little more agreeable.’

I gulped. ‘Did you mention anything about us?’

He frowned. ‘Should I have?’

I let out a small sigh of relief. ‘No. I would prefer if our little, whatever this is, stays just between us.’

‘This
thing
between us Elena is called
love
,’ he said unapologetically.

I groaned. ‘Stop that, will you? My head doesn’t have room for nonsense right now.’

‘Who said anything about nonsense?’

‘Don’t you have some werewolves to catch?’ I muttered.

He grinned again, swooping down and brushing a quick kiss across my forehead before jumping up onto the window sill, about to leave. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said, letting every word roll off his tongue as a sensual promise.

‘Bring the story of your past with you when you come.’

He smiled suggestively and then winked. ‘Good night, Elena … my love.’

‘Ugh! Get out of here before I push you off the window sill myself.’

His laughter trickled down into the garden and disappeared as quickly as his physical presence allowed.

I closed the window behind him and locked the latch, just in case. With a new pack roaming around Cairns, I didn’t want to leave a big welcome mat under my window by giving them easy access. Mind you, if a vânâtor wanted to get into our house, there was very little that Lucas and I could do about it anyway. The locks on our doors would be no match for the realm of the supernatural.

I shut the bedroom door behind me and wandered back down the stairs. Lucas had only been gone for about fifteen minutes. Besides, he was right. He was just as capable of taking a vânâtor down as I was. He’d even been training a year longer than I had, so if it came down to it, he should be able to take care of himself.

I settled into my favourite chair in the living room and flipped on the TV. I flicked through all of the stations a couple of times—there was absolutely nothing on. I didn’t know what I wanted to watch anyway. All I could think about was William being in love with me. What a ridiculous notion. We’d only known each other for just over a fortnight.

It was ridiculous. Wasn’t it?

Why did he have to go and do that anyway? What was wrong with things just staying casual? Why did he have to go and get all heavy with the love stuff? Don’t get me wrong. I liked William, liked him a lot. But I wasn’t ready to commit myself to him in a sexual way. I’d just wind up getting my heart broken in return.

I decided to ease my mind by burying myself in a mind-numbing movie that involved plenty of action and little of anything else. Perfect for drowning out notions of love and matters of the heart—those were best left reserved for Jane Austin novels and sentimental idiots who believed that love conquered all.

I ended up scanning through the DVDs we owned and selecting one of the action flicks. Plenty of fast cars and things getting blown up should pass the time and keep me occupied before the pizza arrived.

I settled back into my chair again, fast-forwarded through the opening credits and dove straight into the first lot of action sequences from
Commando
. I had heavy expectations that thoughts of love and happily ever after were about to be annihilated from my mind by Arnie’s big machine gun. I watched the movie, absorbed, for about twenty minutes, only to glance up at the wall clock and wonder how much longer dinner and Lucas would be. It was only Thursday. There should have been no reason pizza was taking so long. But Lucas did walk about as fast as he drove. I wasn’t expecting him home for at least another fifteen minutes.

A hollow knocking sound came from the front door.

Must be the pizza.

‘Just a minute,’ I yelled as I switched off the movie, got up from my chair and headed for the front door.

I peered through the peephole first to verify it was the pizza delivery guy standing on the front porch. It was, but he was shrouded in darkness. The sensor light must have broken.

‘Pizza delivery,’ the muffled voice sounded from the other side of the door.

I took another cursory glance through the peephole, just to be safe, and then unlocked the latch, pulled back the chain and opened the door. The scent of blood immediately assaulted my nostrils and sent me reeling backwards.

On the other side of the door was a man in his late twenties. He had shoulder-length brown hair covered by the standard blue and red baseball cap that came with his uniform, and a blue shirt that was covered in a mass of wet red stains, not pasta sauce but stains that I knew to be fresh blood. Even the smell of pizza and garlic bread could not dull the smell.

This man was in no way shape or form human.

‘Wait here,’ I said shakily, ‘I’m just going to grab your money.’ I started to close the door on him, but he was fast. He wedged his foot in the door so I could not close it any further. As he proceeded to smash his way through the door, the wood exploding into splintered debris, I cursed myself silently for not having my knife on me. But there wasn’t too much I could do about that now.

With the front door now strewn across the living room floor and my pizza and garlic bread now lying face down on the porch outside, I backed up quickly, towards the stairs. My plan was simple—get the knife from the bag in my bedroom, stab this damned werewolf wherever I could, and then get the hell out of here so I could find Lucas.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he said, tilting his head to the side as he watched me back step up the first stair.

‘I’d leave if I was you,’ I said, more confident than before. ‘This home is owned by The Protectors and one of them is due back at any moment.’

Well, that was semi-true.

He crept forward again. ‘I’m not afraid of you, little girl.’

I frowned. ‘You should be. Have you seen what I did to your alpha’s shoulder?’

He growled and I took another few steps up the stairs. In my head I’d calculated that it was a short run through the hallway to my bedroom. I hoped I could make it.

Without waiting a second longer, I spun on my heels, leapt up the stairs three at a time and sprinted down the hallway to my bedroom. He was fast. He caught up to me before I had even reached the door, grabbing at the top of my jeans and dragging me down to the ground. The air rushed out of my lungs as the hardwood floor hit my chest and stomach, forcing my breath from me.

I struggled to my knees, sucking in air as the pizza man grabbed at my legs with strong, able hands and yanked me back under him, his putrid breath, so close to my face now. He grappled me around my waist, trying to shake me around like a ragdoll. Before he could spin me around completely, I bought my elbow up hard underneath his chin, connecting with a mighty
thump
and sending his head and upper body whipping backwards.

I scrambled back to my feet and tried to scoot past him to the bedroom. No good. He had his hand on my ankle in an instant and I was back where I started, lying on the hardwood floor next to him. I tried to roll away and get up, but he punched me hard in the face, breaking my nose and sending a fresh tidal of blood running down my face and neck. While I cried out in pain, the Vânâtor abruptly stopped and sniffed at the air, his eyes transforming from human to black, demonic slits of fury and hunger.

I struggled, kicking out with my feet, but he managed to pin me underneath him again with his legs. He held my hands tightly above my head, but he wasn’t much stronger than I was, and I knew if I persisted eventually I would break free of his grasp and finish what he had started. By breaking
his
nose.

Bastard.

I already felt my nose beginning to heal. There was a slight cracking sound as cartilage and bone re-set, and the blood beginning its slow progress back inside. But the Vânâtor wasted no time—he was too consumed with thirst.

He leaned down towards me, and with his tongue, began to sweep a wet path along the flesh of my neck all the way up my face and back to my nose. I convulsed in disgust underneath him, suddenly aware his skin had taken on a greyish tinge, the surface sprouting soft, hairy down. His claws extended. I could hear them scratching against the hardwood floor next to my ears.

He leaned forward again, this time throwing his head back slightly to reveal a set of teeth that were pointed and sharp and stained heavily in yellow. I couldn’t afford for him to bite me. It would drain me of too much energy and I needed to get out of this unscathed.

‘Get away from me!’ I screamed, pulling my knee up underneath me with as much brute force as I could muster. I connected with his groin with relative ease, sailing up between his parted legs to wallop him where it hurt.

He let out something that resembled a cross between a howl and a grunt and I managed to break free again.

This time I didn’t waste time trying to get to my bed-room—his body blocked the passageway. Instead, I took off back down the stairs, trusting that my legs would get me there safely without buckling. There were plenty of knives in the kitchen and with the front door now very open I’d have an easy escape if things got too rough.

Where the hell is Lucas?

I rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, my shoes skidding on the floor as I flung myself through the opening, gripping the wall to steady myself. I booked it into the kitchen, and quickly searched through the second drawer, trying to find any of the sharper knives. I almost kicked the dishwasher in when I remembered they were all there getting cleaned. It didn’t matter now anyway. This wolf was determined … and fast.

He reached me a second later, pushing me backwards into the bench top, my lower spine groaning in protest. I could only rely on my hands now and I knew enough about handto-hand combat, thanks to Peter’s training, that I could take this wolf down if I just concentrated hard enough.

Before I had a second to think, he grabbed me fiercely by the neck and hoisted me off the ground, my feet kicking wildly in the air. I struggled, his grip on my throat was tight, but not enough to kill me. If he wasn’t going to kill me, the alpha obviously wanted to keep me alive, either to feed from me again or mate with me. Either prospect was unappealing.

I took a second and tried to calm myself. I balled my hands into fits and swung at the Vânâtor’s face as hard as I could in a one, two, three punch combination. I started from the left, then the right, finishing with one massive hit under the chin.

I watched as my first hit connected with his face, breaking his nose, the second practically exploding into his cheekbone. The third snapped his head backwards, knocking a few teeth out of his jaw. Blood started to spill down his decimated nose and pool around his mouth, dripping onto the floor.

He staggered backwards in surprise, releasing his grip on me so that I fell back clumsily onto the floor, gripping at the edge of the counter for support and rubbing at my sore gravelly throat.

He roared out in pain, the sound erupting from the pit of his stomach soon turning into a mighty howl that spat blood in every direction. His whole body began to quiver in front of me as his skin started to tear open, and thicker tufts of grey matted fur began to poke their way through.

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