Thankfully, she stopped struggling and after a few minutes of tugging, he finally found where the cloth was knotted and yanked it down, the quick movement working to release the rest of it from her head.
She opened her lips as if to scream, so he quickly laid his hand over her mouth. Her eyes flared open with shock. He whispered in her ear for silence.
“There is another beast tracking us. You must remain hidden in the cloak until it passes. No matter what you hear or what you think you hear, you must wear the cloak. If you take it off, you will die. Understand?”
With eyes still wide, she nodded slowly. He motioned with his free hand for her to be silent, then slowly removed the hand that covered her mouth. He repositioned the cloak so that it draped naturally from her shoulders, his fingers grazing the flesh above her breasts as he clasped it closed and raised the hood to cover her head.
Just that mere contact had his body responding to the point of distraction. He was hard for her already, wanting more than just a mistaken touch. My Huntress. He held her waist as he lifted her to stand, his hands molding to her flesh so perfectly that he ached to crush her against him, to feel her yielding, soft curves against his body. But this was not the time for fantasy and lust, even if he craved her beyond anything he could ever prepare for, just as the Oracle said he would.
“Now stay here. I’ll return shortly.”
“Wait!” she hissed, her eyes blazing.
Cal turned to face her, doing little to mask his impatience. “What?”
“Who are you?” She didn’t sound scared. In fact, by the look in her eyes, he had a feeling that there was more to her question than he could guess.
“My name is Caleb, your Hunter.”
With a gasp, her eyes wide open once again, she moved toward him, her hand raised as if to stroke his cheek. Cal moved forward, compelled by her action, his body wanting her touch like fire wanted air. Was it possible that she felt the same irresistible pull to him? As the backs of her fingers lightly brushed his jaw, she leaned forward until her lips were inches from his. Okay, maybe one kiss—he could afford at least one indulgence.
Her eyes blazed once again. “As if, asshole! Screw you!”
With a swift and well-placed knee thrust, Cal was rocked with such vivid pain that he dropped to the ground in a writhing mess, the dual sensation of wanting to vomit and shit himself slamming him with brutal intensity. But even as wave upon wave of nauseating pain rolled through him, he struggled to stand, biting back his moans, not wanting to attract the attention of the beast, as Cal searched the darkness for her. It was amazing how powerful getting kicked in the sac was, especially when in a state of arousal. Fucking hell. The Oracle had warned him this wouldn’t be an easy mission. No shit. He’d never hear the end of it from his men.
As the initial shocking pain slowly faded to a throbbing beat, he released his protective grip on his balls and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket, swallowing the saliva that pooled in his mouth and the bile that lodged in his throat.
He flipped open his phone and punched the speed dial, furious with himself for being so damn stupid. Your Hunter. What the fuck possessed him to utter those words he couldn’t say. This Huntress was different. Just as the Oracle had warned, she’d grown up outside of the Order and away from the rich cultural upbringing that would have prepared her for such a night. She wouldn’t know what a Hunter was other than in the simplest definition of the word, and to someone who thought they were human, a hunter could be a very scary thing. Cal cursed his thoughtless comment, knowing that his brain had been so distracted by his body’s needs that he hadn’t been thinking straight.
“You lost her, didn’t you?” The cocky voice of his second in command, Lance, pulled him from his thoughts.
“She’s running east.”
“I’m on it.”
Just as he clicked off his phone and slid it back into his pocket, he heard the scrape of claws behind him and felt the puff of rancid breath billow over his neck. Shit. He shifted his gaze to his sword, which thankfully still lay at his side, calculating the odds of him getting a strike in before his head was ripped from his neck. Picking up a handful of gravel and sand, he battled his screaming instinct to snatch up his sword and instead spun away from it. Taking the beast by surprise, Cal threw the mixture into its eyes before barreling into its flank, landing jab after jab to its ribcage as he rolled toward his blade, praying this time luck would be on his side.
Chapter Four
Possession
You are marked for death. You are being hunted. Beware of the beast. The psychic’s words pulsed in my head, consuming my thoughts as I raced away from the carnival grounds toward my home.