Hunter's Rise (18 page)

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Authors: Shiloh Walker

BOOK: Hunter's Rise
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That did it.

 

She smacked at his hand, jerking away. “You don’t know jackshit about the jobs I do.”

 

“Don’t I?” Smiling, he rubbed his knuckles along his jaw and leaned back against the wall near the open window. “Prove it. Tell me you’re taking the money they offered you for this job. It’s not like they can’t afford it.”

 

They could… Toby Clemons’s folks were loaded. Seriously loaded.

 

Sylvia just glared at him.

 

“That’s what I thought.”

 

Sooty black lashes fell to shield her eyes. “I don’t think
I like you very much,” she said, sighing and reaching up, gathering her hair in her hand.

 

Distracted, he watched as she twisted it around and around, piling it in a loose knot on the crown of her head. “Yeah, you do.” She seemed to like him, though. A lot. Which was actually something of a surprise. A lot of people wouldn’t mind at all if he disappeared from the face of the earth.

 

“Arrogant bastard,” she muttered, a faint, reluctant smile curling her lips. She held the mass of hair with one hand and reached into a pocket with the other. A few seconds later, she had a couple of neat little sticks jammed into the ebony locks, holding the knot in place. Slanting a look at him, she said, “You ought to know that I’m tempted to tell you
no
, just for the hell of it, just to see what you’d do, just to give you grief.”

 

Hearing the unsaid
but
, he cocked a brow and waited. And thought about going over there, pulling those sticks out of her hair, just to see it all come tumbling down around her shoulders. Damn, that hair. He loved it.

 

“But… I get the feeling you’re serious about letting me have Pulaski. And I think we could do this better together. So, fine. We’ll do it together.” She sauntered toward him, her lush mouth an unsmiling line, her eyes glinting with an unholy light. “But I’m warning you, Hunter… screw me over and I
will
make you bleed.”

 

Two seconds later, he felt a prick. And he realized she was better than he thought. She’d distracted him, all right, using that lovely body and that gorgeous hair. She’d palmed a knife again, and this time he hadn’t noticed.
Shit
, she was dangerous.

 

And not just because she currently had that thin sliver of a blade pressed against his cock, either. Crooking a grin at her, he drawled, “Oh, come on, sweetheart. You really want to make me bleed
there
?”

 

“Right now, I want you to bleed in so many ways and in so many places, I can’t even begin to list them.” She stepped back and then he watched as she took the blade and sheathed it.

 

Narrowing his eyes, he studied the sheath— it was one of her fucking hair things. Sticking a knife in her hair was
just plain stupid, but that little blade was sheathed. And nobody would think to look for it there, either. With a sly smile, she stuck it into her hair knot and grabbed her bag. “Come on, Hunter. Let’s get this done.”

 

“I’ve got a name,” he said mildly.

 

“Yeah. A weird one.”

 

S

 
HE
followed him down the stairs, carefully checking for any signs she might have left. There wasn’t anything. If he’d left anything when he’d come in earlier, that was his own damn fault.

He could worry about his own ass.

 

That very, very fine ass…

 

Scowling, she jerked her gaze away from that very, very fine ass and focused on his back instead. Nice back. Leanly muscled. Not bulky though. It was possible for shifters to bulk up— she’d seen it. It was freaky and required a dedication to pumping iron— usually in the seven-, eight-, nine-hundred-pound range, but she didn’t like that kind of mass on a man anyway.

 

He looked… well, like what he was. A leanly muscled wolf in human’s clothing. That skin he wore was the disguise. Once they reached the kitchen, she pushed around him and said, “You know, if you damaged my bike, I’m going to damage you.”

 

“You’re so violent… I love it.” He followed her outside, but before she could get to the bike, he did, using that wolf-quick speed and resting a hand on the handlebars. “I’ll push it out.”

 

“I can get my own bike,” she said, glaring at him.

 

“Yeah, and until I’m
on
the damn bike with you, I’m pushing it. You don’t trust me… I don’t trust you, either. I definitely don’t trust you not to try and take off without me.”

 

Sylvia had to admit. It
had
occurred to her, more than once, although she’d brushed the idea away almost immediately.

 

She’d
said
she’d work with the jerk. She didn’t go back on her word. Glaring at him, she shoved him back from her
bike. Or she tried. He didn’t move. “Look, pal. I said we could do this together. Now will you back
off
?”

 

“So you can try to get on it and take off?” He leaned over the bike, pressed his nose against the curve between her neck and shoulder.

 

Sylvia shuddered, but all he did was breathe her in.

 

“You know, I think I’ll back off. And part of me even hopes you try to run. You know what will happen if you do? I’ll chase you… ever been chased by a Hunter, Syl?”

 

“Don’t call me Syl,” she said hoarsely.

 

He ignored her, rubbing his cheek against the sensitive flesh of her neck. She needed to push him away. Really. That was what she needed to do. Instead, she just stood there. “You haven’t been chased by one of us. You’ve done a damn good job staying out of our way,” he rumbled, his voice taking on that deep, low rasp. “But you couldn’t do it this time. Know what they say about a Hunter and his prey?”

 

He bit her.

 

Sylvia slammed a hand against her bike. If she hadn’t, she just might have collapsed to the ground, a useless puddle of flesh, want and lust.

 

“Once we get your scent, we never stop.” He lifted his head, staring down at her with eyes that glittered. Eyes that burned. Eyes that glowed. “And Sylvia… I’ve got your scent all fucking
over
me.”

 

Her heart beat hard and slow inside her chest. Stifling a groan, she whispered, “Is that a threat, Hunter?”

 

“No.” He cupped her chin in his hand, stroked his thumb over her lip.

 

“It’s a promise. And I think you and I both know that I don’t plan on sticking a knife in you. I want something else entirely.” Pressing down against her lip, he held her gaze with his and then asked gruffly, “So… are you going to try and run?”

 

She was tempted. Wildly tempted. For several reasons. He made her nervous… and she didn’t like it. He made her needy… that wasn’t so bad. And while she might have enjoyed the chase, she was more inclined to run just to get the hell
away
. Because he was complicating her life all too
much and he’d only been
in
it for less than a day. And in a matter of days, he’d likely be out of it.

 

Sylvia didn’t need complications.

 

Blowing out a sigh, she turned her head. “I’ve got a job to do. Anything else has to wait… including jerking your chain.”

 

“So you’d run to jerk my chain?”

 

Sliding him a look, she muttered, “I get the feeling I could have a lot of fun jerking your chain.”

 
C
HAPTER 12

 

“Y

 
OU’VE
got people after you.”

Alan Pulaski rolled onto his belly and smiled at the man on the bed. He felt half-drunk. This was… intense. He’d had no idea life could get this fucking
intense
. “Yeah. I know.” Of course, he had people after him. He wasn’t worried… they couldn’t find him.

 

Not now.

 

A hand, hard and brutal, came down on his flank with bruising force. “You should be a little more aware.”

 

Pouting, Alan stared at his lover. “What’s the problem? The cops haven’t found me yet. They aren’t very likely to. Nobody knows
you
. Nobody knows about you. Nobody knows I’m here, and it’s not likely I’m going to go to the grocery store or anything.” He giggled insanely at the thought.

 

The grocery store… well, he’d always enjoyed that place. But still, he knew he had to be careful. He wasn’t going to go out
advertising
himself for crying out loud.

 

A hand fisted in his hair and jerked him up. “I’m having fun with you, but if you start being stupid, that’s not going to last.”

 

“I…” Alan swallowed, fear filtering through the near-drugged feeling that had wrapped around him for the past
few weeks. “Look, I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m not going anywhere, not talking to anybody. How can anybody find me?”

 

Shooting for a smile, he slid a hand down, wrapped it around the man’s cock. Squeezed. Watched as the man’s lashes dropped. He squeezed, tighter… tighter. “I’m not going to be stupid. I’m just going to be here. Right here. Until you’re ready for us to be elsewhere.”

 

The hand in his hair pushed downward. Alan went. He’d please the man. Later, the man would please
him
with their games. And maybe he’d even bring him another little toy. He found the best ones.

 

H

 
E
rose from the bed, leaving Alan sleeping behind him.

They needed to leave.

 

It had to be handled with care, but they needed to leave.

 

Alan didn’t realize what was coming after them, but he did.

 

He’d felt that strange, hushed silence for the past two nights, and it had kept him trapped in the house like a little rabbit cowering in a field, hoping the hawk wouldn’t find him.

 

It pissed him off, but he rather enjoyed life, so he’d cower. He’d be pissed off. He’d live— and he’d make sure Alan did the same.

 

His latest lover was a stupid son of a bitch, but Alan understood
pain
.

 

And pain was something he had to have… since Alan could give it to him, Alan would get some leniency.

 

But they couldn’t linger any longer.

 

He’d had a feeling this was coming, so preparations had been in the works all day. No more time to waste.

 

S

 
HE’D
been riding motorcycles off and on for decades. Her first bike had been an Indian— a 441. Sylvia had loved it… damn, she’d loved that one. It had died a brutal death,
though, when she’d been pursuing one icy piece of work in 1949. Since then, she’d had a number of other bikes, Indians, Harleys, a couple of Ducatis, but she had a fondness for the Indian.

For the past three decades, she’d spent a decent amount of free time restoring bikes. The new bikes were fun, but there was just something about the classics. She knew them inside and out and it was almost as much fun for her to build one as it was to ride one— almost.

 

Riding, for her, though, was a solitary thing. She didn’t like to share— hell, she didn’t even like to be
around
people.

 

So why was it oddly easy to be around him? Easy… and erotic. Having Toronto sitting so close up against her back was driving her mad, making it almost impossible for her to concentrate on what she needed to be doing.

 

His hands, those long-fingered, poetic-looking hands, rested on her hips, fingers splayed down to touch the tops of her thighs, another distraction she just didn’t need. As she took a left on the road up ahead, he asked, “Are we looking for something in particular?”

 

“Yeah. Use your nose. Tell me when you smell it.” It was in the air, but it was faint, fainter than last night.

 

“I already smell it. You want to tell me why we’re tracking it?” He leaned forward, dipping his head a little so that his chin rested on her shoulder.

 

Close… man, he was just too close. Did he have to sit so close? She wanted to groan. At the same time, she wanted to cuddle even
closer
, sink against the warmth of that lean, powerful body and feel his arms come around her. Instead, she kept her body rigid as she replied, “Because I think we need to. You wanted to work together, so work with me.”

 

“I
am
working with you.” He laughed, humor heavy in his voice, his fingers kneading her hips. “Come on, it’s not like I’m demanding you turn around and head somewhere else, am I? I’m not growling at you to follow my lead or anything. And actually… I had a source tell me that Pulaski had a rich new lover. Even indicated this general area.”

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