Hunter Betrayed (2 page)

Nine Years Ago

Tegan’s screams echoed in Calan’s head. He tried to connect
to his sister, but she rarely acknowledged him anymore. She was slowly losing
her mind and it was his fault.

His desperate attempt to stop Dahm, the dark fairy prince of
the Unseelie Court, from opening the gates of hell had damned his siblings, the
other riders of the Wild Hunt. They bore the weight of the punishment meant for
the corrupted fairies by dying over and over in the worst conceivable ways. It
was their fear and pain that fed the magic that held the damaged barrier
between the realms closed.

It should have been he who suffered. Instead, he hung from
chains in a solitary prison no god or human could enter. The only thing he
could offer his siblings was his company. He could touch their minds, engage
them in conversation and share their pain, but not alleviate it.

None of the Huntsmen blamed him for the tragedy that had
befallen them, but the suffering they’d endured over the past thousand years
had broken some of them. He hoped he didn’t lose Tegan too. Third born, she had
fought in the Great War at his side.

On his other flank, his second had ridden. Calan conjured
his face. Rhys’ dark-brown hair and glacier-blue eyes made him both striking
and frightening. Calan recalled the battles they’d won, the nights of drunken
revelry and the affection he’d always felt but rarely showed. The pull to his brother
flared and Rhys’ personal hell became Calan’s too.

Thick smoke filled his lungs, burned his eyes and wrapped
around him in a suffocating blanket he couldn’t escape. Calan released his
breath in a slow hiss and embraced the pain. It didn’t ease the suffering Rhys experienced,
but the compulsion to protect him couldn’t be denied.

Hot air washed over Calan, bubbling his skin and searing his
throat. He locked his muscles and waited for the first flick of the
never-ending fire. A crackle and whoosh heralded the arrival of hungry flames.
The living inferno crawled up his legs, down his arms and wound around him
until every inch of his body ignited. He fought the urge to cry out even though
he knew it was the only way to make the blaze retreat.

The flames ate away at his skin, his manhood, his sanity. A
scream built in his chest. He clamped his jaw.
Too much, too much.
He
thrashed against his bonds, twisting and turning to escape. There was none. The
pressure in his lungs intensified. His lips parted against his will. Laughter
echoed around him and the fire raced into his mouth.

He burst into flames.

The scent of his burning flesh surrounded him along with his
continuous roar. On and on, the torment continued until his heart took its
final beat. The flames retreated, their task complete for the time being. The
sacrifice had been made and his suffering fueled the magic.

The barrier separating the human realm from hell would hold
for yet another hour.

Minutes passed and he wondered if death would finally find him
and give him relief, but the curse of being the child of a god reared its head.
Flesh regrew. Bones reformed. The clothing he’d worn the day he’d been
imprisoned wove itself over his body. The hope fizzled.

He sagged in his bonds and dragged in a shuddering breath.

Why do you insist on sharing our suffering when you do
not need to?

Rhys asked the same question every time they spoke. Calan
gave his usual answer.
Because it is my punishment, my hell and my sin for
condemning you. I would bear it all if I could.

Rhys sighed.
You did not know what would happen any more
than I did. I would have done the same.

Calan’s next words would’ve been,
No, brother, you
would’ve saved us all.
He couldn’t utter them today. The game they’d played
for what might have been forever felt like a betrayal without Tegan’s sarcastic
retorts.

How is Tegan today?

Of course Rhys would guess at the reason behind Calan’s
hesitation in their choreographed act. They’d been together since the humans
had first drawn the attention of the fairies and upset the fabric of the world.
Calan closed his eyes and attempted once more to draw her mind to theirs. A
mental shove pushed him out.

She refuses my company.
Calan cursed.
She’s
slipping away from us, Rhys. I cannot bear the loss of her.

She senses the end is coming and has given up.

There is still hope. If I can convince one of Dahm’s
children to release me—

Stop, Calan. Our sister is right. There is no hope, not
for us or the humans. Dahm has won. The Unseelie Court will rule the human
realm exactly as they had vowed to do eons ago. We have only delayed the
inevitable. We continue to do so.

No. We wait. Our key has not yet presented itself.

Rhys groaned.
Dahm’s half-breed children are of no use to
us. His hungry minions pick them off as soon as their darkness flares.

Calan flexed his right hand. His other remained stretched
above his head while his feet were shackled to hooks on the floor. He rested
his head against the smooth stone wall at his back.

Not always.
A hundred years ago, a young boy had
stumbled upon him. Calan had convinced the half-breed to free one of his arms
but the child had fled before he finished releasing him.
Perhaps once my
prison moves to a new location, I will have better luck finding a half-breed
who’ll help us.

His prison moved with each new moon. In some locations he
could connect to Dahm’s offspring, the only other fairies remaining in the
human realm. In others he found none. The frustration came when he discovered a
child who was too young to be reached. By the time he returned, the young
half-breed was either already dead or too corrupted to be coaxed into unlocking
him.

Silence stretched. Finally, Rhys released a long, weary
breath.
No child will free you, Calan. Those unfortunate offspring
instinctually fear the ones bred to kill them. We have lost. The sooner you
accept that—

I will never accept it, Rhys. Never. Do you understand
me?
Harsh pants heaved his chest. The nails of his unshackled hand
elongated into sharpened tips. He curled his fingers, piercing his palm with
the points. The pain helped chase back the rage and allowed him to think.
I
can’t abandon the vow I made to protect the mortals. I have to believe we will
succeed.

Then I too will endure. I won’t abandon you, my brother.

Rhys broke their connection and left Calan alone with only
his regret as company. He should’ve reached out to his other siblings to ensure
they were still coping, but Rhys’ words bothered him more than he’d like to
admit.

Time was running out.

The Huntsmen couldn’t pay the price demanded of them to hold
the barrier to hell closed when their minds shut down. As more of his siblings
succumbed to madness, the crack had widened and allowed the chaotic aspects of
the Underworld to slip out. Only returning the curse to Dahm would mend the damaged
barrier, but Calan couldn’t do that while he hung in a prison only a fairy
could see or enter.

He had to make another attempt at connecting to one of the
half-breeds, but he feared Rhys was right. None of Dahm’s unfortunate children
would be brave enough to release the very creature who would destroy them.

* * * * *

Harley Callahan peered through the windshield. No lights
shone in her house. She scanned the windows for movement. After a week of late
night dates, she considered herself an expert at sneaking out. Sloppiness would
get her caught, though. No way would she risk that.

The past seven days had been the best of her life. Today,
her eighteenth birthday, would be even better. She was moving out. As soon as
she worked up the courage to tell her mom, anyway.

She continued her survey. Deep in the Catskill Mountains of
New York, her parents’ secluded three-hundred-acre estate offered walking
paths, gardens, a lake and a greenhouse. It was beautiful. It had also
essentially acted as her prison. She could count on one hand the number of
times she’d left it, but that had changed a couple of months ago when she’d
taught herself to drive.

The experiences she’d had since had changed her. No longer
the obedient daughter, she hungered. For what, she didn’t know, but she’d find
it. It was out there, waiting for her.

Darkness covered the grounds she knew by heart. Nothing
unusual grabbed her attention. She opened the car door and listened. Only the
sounds of insects and the hoots of owls carried over the quiet of the night.
She scanned the windows once more and breathed a sigh of relief. Her mother
still slept.

Harley had evaded the woman’s oppressive control again. She
grinned at the small victory. Of course, she hadn’t made it back to her room
yet. She hoped to leave on good terms, not storm out like her brother Ian had
done three years ago. She loved her mom, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual.

She slipped out of her car and took several steps across the
lawn before a dull ache spread through her chest. She pressed a balled fist to
heart where the hollow feeling she experienced nightly flared, worse than she’d
ever endured. She nibbled her lip and considered mentioning it to her mom, but
dismissed the idea in the next breath. It’d be pointless. She refused to take
her to a doctor.

The familiar anger rose and made the burning sensation
worse. Harley breathed through the discomfort and pushed the violent thoughts
away. Good girls didn’t act like that and she was good, no matter what her mom
said. Besides, soon she’d be on her own. She’d get a job and go to the doctor
herself.

She shrugged off the unease and made her way across the
lawn. The thin piece of plastic she’d shoved between the sliding glass door and
the doorframe still held her escape route open. With her lip caught between her
teeth, she pushed the door and squeezed inside.

Heart pounding hard, she waited. Nobody came running or
shouted accusations at her.

Thank god.

She tiptoed across the room. The grandfather clock next to
her chimed. She jumped, a hand over her mouth to muffle her cry.

“Harley Marie! Where have you been?”

Shit, shit, shit.
She turned and came face-to-face
with the woman who ruled the house—supermodel, actress and tyrant. Harley
flashed a hopefully innocent smile. “Hey, Mom. What are you doing up?”

“Where were you?”

At the livid glare stamped on her mom’s flawless features,
Harley groaned. “I went to see Ron.”

“In town?”

As if there was anywhere else to go. Harley nodded, no use
denying it.

“How did you get there?”

Here it came. The fight she’d hoped to avoid. “I drove.”

Her mom’s eyes widened. “Drove? You don’t have a license.”

Because Harley hadn’t been allowed to get one.

“No.” She sighed. “I don’t, but I borrowed one of the cars
and taught myself.”

Curses fell from her mom’s mouth. She threw her arms up in
the air. “You disobeyed me, put that boy and yourself in danger. Why, Harley,
why?”

She was so damn sick of the crazy rules only she had to
follow. “Why not? I’m eighteen!” Her chest heaved. All the pent-up rage and
resentment spilled over. “You keep me locked away in this prison, barely talk
to me and when you do it’s to reiterate your stupid rules! I’m sick of them.
I’m moving out!”

Her mom—a taller, thinner version of her—stepped closer.
“Those stupid rules are the reason you’re still alive! You should thank me, you
ungrateful little brat! I could’ve aborted you or given you away, but I didn’t
because it wasn’t your fault you were created from that monster who raped me!”

Harley stumbled back. “R-raped you?” Here she’d thought she
was an
oops
from one of her mom’s numerous affairs.

“Yeah, and it’s about time you learned the truth. You’re not
hu—”

Breaking glass stopped her words. A hulking man stepped over
the shards of the sliding door. Harley’s gaze locked onto him. He wore a black
baseball cap, a t-shirt with a screaming skull on it and motorcycle boots.

The burn in her body faded and heat replaced it, not the
same kind she’d experienced in Ron’s arms, but it still filled her with the
same promise of ecstasy. She stared at the stranger, unable to make sense of
her reaction. Something about him struck her as familiar. He intrigued her and
repulsed her at the same time. Heart pounding hard, she locked her knees so she
wouldn’t go to him.

He wasn’t…
right
.

The guy faced her. Black pupils swimming in red locked onto
hers. He grinned, showing off a mouthful of pointy teeth.

Fear replaced her fascination. She screamed.

Her mom yanked on her hand. “Run, Harley, run!”

She couldn’t. Her body wouldn’t obey her mind.

The man shifted his gaze to her mom and licked his lips. He
leapt at her with outstretched, clawed hands.

“Please, baby, r—” Her mom’s words turned into a shriek.

Harley pivoted on her heel and ran. More screams sounded—her
little brother’s, the butler’s, her dad’s. She pressed her palms to her ears
and kept running. In the front yard, monstrous men prowled—misshapen, hunched
and frightening. They all turned at once. Garbled roars added to the pitiful
cries spilling out from behind her.

She turned her back on them and fled across the grass toward
where she’d left her car parked farther down the driveway. Her lungs squeezed.
Muscles burned. Still, she ran. Her mother’s last plea to her urged her
forward.

A charley horse contorted her calf. Her pace faltered. The
grunts and groans from behind her grew louder, but a gust of wind swept over
her back. The cool breeze calmed the burn tightening her muscles and filled her
with strength.