The Huntress (18 page)

The other member looked at her with more care and she saw recognition in his eyes. He whispered in his companion’s ear then gave her a short nod. “Giving offense was not our intent. We will do as you ask. Please tell the director that we will be contacting him in the morning.”

“Courtesy, especially at a time like this, is always welcome. Thank you.”

Mea turned away with Regan crowding at her side and moved toward Mike at the buffet table. But she was stopped before she went three steps by a woman who looked vaguely familiar, though Mea couldn’t place her. Her chin was set at a fierce angle and her short hair bristled with aggression.

“You’re a fine one to talk about giving offense.”

Mea raised her eyebrows, exasperation growing as she felt Regan’s unease. She and Regan should be celebrating, not suffer attacks from all sides. A weapons check, Coalition members, and now this woman.

“You’re Nat’s killer and here you are, at his wake!”

“I’m here to pay my respects to a fine hunter who died in the line of duty.” Mea tried to shift past her, but the woman blocked her path.

“Respects,” she spit. She seemed to be enjoying the dramatics. She wasn’t the only one—a circle began to form around them. Mea thought hard about turning the woman over her knee for such childish behavior. “Did you show him any respect when you slaughtered him?”

Stepping very close to the shorter woman, Mea held her gaze and said in a low, firm tone, “Nat Bragan tried to kill this little girl. I regret what I had to do, but I would do it again in a heartbeat. If you cannot give the same answer, than I suggest you reevaluate your career choice.”

Pushing past her, Mea once again headed toward Mike, aware of the crowd drifting in between her and the female hunter as though nothing had happened. As a group, her fellow hunters were very willing to be entertained, but their attention spans were short.

She was also aware that Regan was very quiet and very solemn at her
side.

“Don’t worry about it, honey. There are some nice people here, I promise.”

“Are they blaming me for him being dead?”

“What? No! Why would you think that?”

They reached Mike, and he handed them drinks. Mea’s was spiked with alcohol, and she eyed Regan’s cup suspiciously.

The girl was looking down at her feet. “Because I wished him dead when he was holding me.”

Mea stepped behind the girl and hugged her small form to her chest with one arm, resting her chin on the child’s head. She spoke softly so no one would hear but Regan. “You have no reason to be ashamed of that. I wished him dead, too, when I saw what he was doing to you. I know nobody here has even thought to blame you for it, sugar.”

Regan rested against her and tipped her head back, little face open with a trust that made Mea want to sing. “You promise?”

“I promise.” Mea kissed her on the forehead and shared a smile with her.

Then Regan lifted her drink to her mouth.

“Hang on, let me see that.” Mea took it from her and gave it an experimental sip. No alcohol. With a grin, she gave it back. “All clear.”

Uncle Mike sent her a wounded look. “I wouldn’t have put anything in her drink.”

“You’ve done it to me before.”

“That was an accident, damn it! I only did it once. When are you going to let that go?”

“When I forget the hangover I had the next day. I was only fourteen, Uncle Mike.”

“I said I was sorry,” he muttered, shifting in place, but he caught sight of Regan snickering behind one hand and his face lightened. “She did make a funny little drunk, though.”

Regan began to laugh outright, and he grinned back, unaware that Bella had appeared behind him like magic.

“Are you getting her drunk again, Michael Conley?”

He jumped as though stuck with a hot poker and paled so guiltily that he set Regan off on another gale of laughter. Mea took the drink from her again before she spilled it, grinning as Bella winked over Mike’s shoulder.

“I didn’t— I wasn’t—”

“Calm down, Mike. I was kidding.” Bella drifted around him and approached Regan with a gentle smile. “Hi there, sweetheart. I’m Bella, Michael’s assistant and tormentor. I heard some good news about you today.”

“What’s that?” Regan managed to say around her giggles.

“That you were just recently adopted by our favorite hunter. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Regan glowed like a new star, and Mea thought that the warmth of her smile would be enough to heat the whole academy for at least a year.

“But—” Bella eyed her shrewdly. “I can see by your wasted appearance that Mea is going to take after her uncle and not feed you properly. Let me help you fix a plate of food.”

Regan looked up at Mea with a question in her dark eyes.

She handed the girl her drink with a nod. “Go ahead, but watch out for the dish with purple peppers on it. It’s hot as hell.”

Bella frowned like a storm at her. “Watch your language around the child.”

Baffled, Mea watched them begin a slow trek down the buffet table. “What’d I say?”

“Damned if I know,” Uncle Mike replied, and they shrugged at each other in mutual incomprehension.

Mea took a sip of her drink and watched her new daughter win Bella’s heart with her solemn waif’s charm. Delighted pride swelled in Mea’s chest, marred only by an unfamiliar uncertainty.
Holy Christ, I’m a mother.
A terrifying thought—what the hell did she know about raising a child? She was trained to hunt scum, not nurture and mold a precious little life. Watching Regan lift those trusting dark eyes up to the adult with her, Mea thought
I’ll just have to learn.
There was probably some kind of handbook on it.

She was turning to Mike to ask for his copy of that handbook when her ex-husband Job stepped out of the crowd. She snapped her mouth shut and watched him approach with a souring of her mood.
Just what this night needs,
she thought with a sardonic twist of her mouth.
An irritating ex.

Job nodded courteously to Mike. “Director. May I steal Mea away for a moment?”

Mike’s expression was grim. “That would be up to her, Hunter.”

Job turned to her, handsome face wreathed in a beguiling smile. He didn’t seem to notice that it had no effect on her. “Mea, I need to speak with you on a private matter.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d approached her on a ‘private matter.’ She knew what he wanted and stared at him for a long moment, weighing the amount of patience she had left against the sure knowledge that he wouldn’t stop pestering her until she heard him out. Turning her head, she sought out Regan’s small form.

“She’ll be fine with Bella,” Mike muttered. “I’ll go join them.”

“Thanks, Uncle Mike.” With a glum sigh, she tossed back the rest of her drink then waved Job to precede her.

Job led the way across the courtyard and Mea followed, praying the alcohol heating her stomach would lend her some patience. Or at least have a numbing effect. Beyond the crowd, he courteously cupped her elbow and walked her toward the overhang of one of the balconies. Isolated tables and shadowed nooks stood empty. They were alone.

Mea grimaced under the cover of the dim light. “What is it that you want, Job?” she prompted, hoping to get this over with quickly.

“You look simply stunning tonight, Mea. Is that one of Powel’s creations?”

“Yes, it is. You wanted to speak with me?”

“Every time I see you, you grow more beautiful, and I can’t believe I was fool enough to let you go. We were so good together, you and I. We were like two halves of the same whole.”

He reached for her hand, and she stared at him impatiently, avoiding his touch with mild revulsion. She was hard pressed not to knock him on his ass and tell him where to stick it. That would be putting too much emotion into it, though—she was afraid he would take it the wrong way.

“Hunting with you was like hunting with my own shadow; we were so in tune with one another. I can’t understand how we grew apart. Whatever happened to our plans to be together forever? A love like ours shouldn’t be denied, Mea. I’m asking you to be my wife.”

Nauseating.
Mea had to swallow bile in the back of her throat before she could tell him what to do with his proposal, an offer that had nothing to do with love and everything to do with ambition and pride.

In the pause, she heard a faint sound on the balcony above them. Someone was up there. Moving out from beneath the balcony, she looked up. The vine was a curtain, casting a lacework of shadows that she couldn’t see through, but instinct told her who was up there. She felt him like a heat on her skin.

“Mea?”

She ignored Job, running a thoughtful thumb over the thin slice on her neck and smiling with bemused delight. This was turning out to be a really good day.

“Is someone up there?” Job scanned the vines himself with a discontented frown.

He didn’t like to be upstaged. Mea felt a stab of alarm. She knew for a fact that the cadets at the front gate would not have let Stone into the academy, so he must have scaled the wall. Not an easy feat, but do-able. His presence here would not be taken lightly and Job was on the verge of discovering him.

“I need another drink,” she announced and walked away, certain that Job would follow—she hadn’t given him an answer yet.

He joined her, face stormy. “I’m sorry they disturbed our privacy, but I need to know how you feel. Will you marry me?”

“Job—” she started, but he interrupted.

“We’re perfect for each other, you know that. And I’ve always wanted children—though you said you didn’t want any.”

“I said I didn’t want yours,” she responded with icy bite.

He caught her arm before they could reenter the crowd. “I need an answer.”

She turned to face him, eyes flickering past him to the balcony as a thought struck her. “Shit,” she muttered. Stone had heard everything. Everything except her telling Job to go shove it up his ass. He was probably here for Regan, but still—she didn’t want him to think she would ever consider the ambitious, self-involved idiot in front of her.

Stepping back, she looked into Job’s handsome features with a grin of pure malice. This was going to be so much fun. “You want an answer?” Turning, she gave a piercing whistle. “Uncle Mike!” she hollered, using her singer’s lungs to project over the rumble of the crowd.

Perceptive enough to know when a show was about to start, her fellow hunters parted like a wave, leaving an open space between her and Uncle Mike. Mike took no notice of the many stares, acting as though she was calling to him from across their own living quarters. “Yeah?”

“Could you remind this man why it is that I am no longer his wife?”

He munched thoughtfully on a vegetable stick. Even from this distance Mea could see the hard gleam in his eye as he stared at Job. Stepping to one side, Mea glanced at Job and was gratified by the stiff wariness on his features while he bore the weight of the director’s stare.

In a conversational tone that nevertheless carried across the courtyard, Mike answered, “You cheated on her, you dumb fuck.”

Laughter rolled around them, and Mea waited with a smirk until it died down before she concluded her show. “The answer is no, Job. There’s no chance in hell that I would ever be your wife again.”

That sparked excited gossip within the crowd. Using the renewed noise for cover, she stepped closer to him, ignoring the furious redness in his cheeks and his balled fists. “Did you really think I would ever take you back? If you want any more humiliation, you just let me know.”

“You cold hearted bitch!” he snarled but low enough that no one else heard.

“Mmm, yes, and maybe next time you’ll remember that.” Then she walked away from him, grinning in satisfaction.

Mike had a similar expression on his face when she approached. He handed her another drink. “Feel better?”

“You have no idea,” she sighed.

His laugh boomed over the crowd. “Asked you to marry him again, huh? How many times is that now?”

“Who’s counting? He can’t figure out why I’m not dying to fall at his feet.” She rolled her eyes with a shake of her head then looked around. “Plus he’s trying to get back in your good graces— Where’s Regan?”

“Bella took her to meet some of the younger cadets.” He nodded to a small knot of people just beyond the buffet table.

Some cadets looking barely older than Regan herself had gathered around her. Bella presided over the group and nodded to Mea with a smile of reassurance.

“It’ll be good for her to meet those close to her own age. Right?” Mea worried about how Regan would cope with a group of strangers all huddled around her.

Mike put a warm, reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Of course it will. Help her get over what she’s been through.”

“Right. You’re right.”

Watching the group carefully, she nibbled on a carrot stick. When Regan burst out of the crowd and hurried toward her, Mea’s stomach dropped. Vowing to blister each and every one of the cadet’s asses, she moved toward her daughter.

“Mea!”

“What’s the matter? What’d they say to you?”

The girl skidded to a halt in front of her and glanced around at Mike. “Ah—” Tugging on Mea, she moved away from him. “Excuse us, Uncle Mike.” Regan didn’t look upset, just excited.

Relief loosened the knot in Mea’s chest. “Sure. No problem,” she heard Mike say in a low, baffled tone. She would have laughed, but the urgency on Regan’s face held her. “What’s going on?”

“Stone’s here!” Regan hissed, glancing around hurriedly to see if anyone could hear.

Mea’s eyebrows went up in surprise. She hadn’t planned on telling the girl and no alarm had been raised—so how had Regan found out? “He is?”

She must not have put enough shock in her tone, because Regan gave her an exasperated look. “I’m serious! I was showing the others the tracer I brought with me. I guess they don’t get to have one until later on and they were real curious, so I was showing them how it worked and—” She pressed her lips together, and stared pointedly in the direction of the balcony, eyes sparkling with excitement. “He’s up there!”

“Okay, sugar, calm down. Show me.”