Heart of a Huntress: The Kavanaugh Foundation Read online

  When Lana emerged from her room half an hour later, her pale face and tense expression barely showed any of the surprise he heard in her voice. “What are you still doing here?”

  “Helping you.”

  That sparked her anger. Her stormy eyes flashed and her upper lip curled. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t need your help? You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “You underestimate me.”

  The stress of the situation finally revealed itself in the sudden slump of her shoulders. She massaged her temples. “Byron, Espe was a trained hunter, and they got her. What makes you think you stand a chance against a gang of vampires?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “I have backup on the way. They’ll be here in three to four hours.”

  “I have backup on the way, too, only they’ll be here within the hour.”

  So much for breaking her will. A new surge of color climbed up her neck into her cheeks. “Why the fuck do you feel the need to stick your nose into my business? Apparently it isn’t enough to endanger your own life. No, you have to drag others into it as well.”

  “Lana, all the men I invited to join us hate vampires and have a vendetta to settle with them over my uncle’s death.”

  “Who cares? They’re still humans with nothing more than revenge on their side.”

  “You’re wrong about that.” He cupped her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. “I’m not letting you face them alone, Lana. If I have to hound your every step, I will, but I’d prefer to be treated as an equal here.”

  “Byron, please, I can’t bear to lose you.”

  And then he saw it. All her fear, her pain, her guilt, her grief. The real motivation for her words played out on her face like a movie, but only in fast-forward. She’d lost someone she cared about to a vampire.

  He pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. “I’m harder to get rid of than you think.”

  He should tell her the truth about what he was, about the pack, about why he’d never in his right mind leave her. It was sitting on the tip of his tongue when her phone rang.

  She broke free from his embrace and rushed to answer it. “Hello?” The color drained from her cheeks. She turned on the speakerphone and brought her finger up to her lips.

  A rich, German-accented voice filled the room. The same one he’d heard in the voice mail on Eddie’s phone. “How are you this evening?”

  A snarl formed in the back of Byron’s throat. He’d have his vengeance tonight or die trying.

  “Quit the games, Klaus, and tell me where Espe is.”

  The vampire chuckled as if she had told him a joke. “You get right to the point. I like you, Hunter.”

  “I wish I could say the feeling was mutual, asshole.”

  Klaus made a sound of disapproval. “Such a temper. And here I was calling you to negotiate Espe’s freedom.”

  “Spill it.”

  “As you can see outside, it’s almost sunset. I’d like to propose an exchange. You show up alone at a place of my choosing, and I let your little hunter go. You bring others with you, and she becomes more than just a delicious little snack.”

  Her eyes narrowed and her fingers tightened about the phone. “What do you want with me?”

  “We’ll discuss that at the drop-off point. Now, are you willing to agree to my terms?”

  “The Foundation doesn’t negotiate with bloodsuckers.”

  “That’s what they say, but you know as well as I do that rules are broken all the time.”

  She turned to him and silently asked for his advice. He crossed his arms and nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to play along for now. Anything to get him closer to Eddie’s killer.

  “Fine. Where’s the drop-off point?”

  “I’ll have a limo parked in front of the Mardi Gras in two hours. Remember, come alone, or Espe becomes my new plaything.”

  The line went dead, and a shiver rippled through her body. She threw the phone at the couch in disgust. “God, I can’t believe I just agreed to this.”

  He massaged the knots in her shoulders. “You did what you had to do to protect Espe. No one will fault you for that.”

  “But I’ll be walking into his trap before my reinforcements get into town.”

  “That’s why I’m glad I called the rest of the pack in.”

  Her shoulders tensed. “The pack?”

  Now it was his phone that interrupted the conversation. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered.

  Greg’s voice filled the airwaves. “We’re almost there. Where’s the rendezvous point?”

  Byron checked his watch. “Shit, you must’ve been going at least ninety miles per hour.”

  His friend laughed. “Try over a hundred. When the Alpha calls, the pack responds.”

  “I’m not the Alpha yet.” He glanced over at Lana to see if she’d overheard him. The downward angle of the corners of her mouth told him she had.

  “Speak for yourself. So, are you gonna give me an address, or are we going to have to circle the city all night?”

  He rattled off Lana’s address and clicked the phone closed. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  “Your ‘pack’?”

  “Yes, my pack.”

  She increased the gulf between them and crossed her arms. “I’m not letting anyone in here until I get an explanation.”

  So, she would finally learn the truth, although not in the way he wanted to tell her. Maybe after dinner or a few glasses of wine—something to lessen the initial shock. Now she was forcing him to show his hand.

  He took a deep breath and decided the simplest explanation was the best. “I’m a werewolf.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Lana couldn’t decide if she should laugh or lock herself in her bedroom. “A werewolf? You’re joking, right?”

  He shook his head with the soberness of a funeral-parlor director.

  Her throat tightened, and a half laugh seemed to be the only thing that opened it up. The Foundation dealt with all kinds of paranormal creatures, but she didn’t remember hearing about how to deal with werewolves at any point during her training. In fact, they weren’t even mentioned. For all she knew, Byron suffered from delusions of grandeur.

  She lifted her chin and fought to keep the hysteria from rising in her voice. “Prove it to me, then. Change into a wolf.”

  “I can’t. It’s not the full moon. Only the strongest of werewolves can shift at other times of the month.”

  God, maybe he really is a nutcase. Only someone like that would want to sleep with me. “Listen, if this is just some attempt to prove to me that you’re capable of hunting vampires—”

  He seized her shoulders and shook her a couple of times until she stared into his face. The strength of his grasp startled her, but not as much as the eerie yellow glow that radiated from his eyes. A low growl rumbled from his chest, and her heart skipped a beat. Whatever he was, he wasn’t human. “Does this convince you?”

  She licked her lips, unsure what to say. “Maybe.”

  He shoved her away, turned on his heel and ran his fingers through his hair. “I should have known you’d be this stubborn when I told you the truth. Those scars on my chest—they came from a werewolf attack. The man I call my uncle took me into his pack when my own family wanted nothing to do with me. He had a habit of doing that. You know, rescuing newly turned and abandoned werewolves. We joked that we were his own collection of Lost Boys.”

  The way his voice cracked as he told her about his past made her chest tighten and her eyes burn. Could he actually be telling her the truth? “How old were you?”

  “Almost eight. I was the youngest, by far. Most of the guys come into the pack somewhere in their teens. I mean, puberty is bad enough, but when you have to deal with becoming a monster once every month…”

  The corners of her mouth twitched. “At least you have some idea of how girls feel when we’re PMSing.”

&nb
sp; He glanced at her over his shoulder. His mouth hung open at her lighthearted attempt to make a joke. “Lana, I’m being serious here.”

  “So am I. You’ve never seen me attack a carton of Ben and Jerry’s.” She stepped forward and grazed his hand with her own. “I want to believe you.”

  “But you don’t.” He sighed and threaded their fingers together. “At least you’re not running away screaming.”

  “You haven’t given me a reason to run.”

  “Not yet, anyway.”

  A knock at the door ended their conversation, much to her relief. She’d ask the Foundation about the existence of werewolves later. Until then, she had to convince Byron and his “pack” to stay away from the vampires.

  He opened the door and at least a dozen men poured into her tiny condo. He greeted them all by name and thanked them for coming. As far as she could tell, they all looked like normal guys, varying in age from their late teens to their forties. When the steady stream dried up, he frowned. “Where’s Alan?”

  The smallest guy adjusted his glasses. “He, um, refused to come.”

  A scowl darkened Byron’s face. “Figures. But now that the rest of you are here, let’s form a game plan. Lana here is a vampire hunter.”

  A dozen heads turned to her, and her muscles stiffened. She hated being the center of attention, and she especially hated people knowing her occupation. If the Foundation knew about this, they’d send her packing to Little Rock or Bozeman or some other hick town. She gave them an awkward wave.

  “Her partner, Espe, has been kidnapped by a vampire named Klaus. He’s the same son of a bitch who’s responsible for Eddie’s murder, right down to the German accent.”

  A collective growl rippled through the room and caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. She noticed a faint yellow glow in their eyes. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Maybe he was telling the truth.

  “He’s setting a trap for her at the Mardi Gras, but how many of you think that yellow bloodsucker will be there in person?” A few men snickered. “Exactly. What I’d like to do is send some of you down there to deal with his underlings while the rest of us try and catch his scent and track him down.”

  “Yeah, I noticed the stench when I arrived,” the smallest one said. His cheeks grew slightly pink as he turned to her. “Not that I was referring to you, Lana. It’s just that vampires have a unique smell.” He paused and drew in a deep breath. “You, on the other hand, smell quite nice actually.”

  “Greg, stop it right now.” The low snarl in Byron’s voice left little room for argument.

  “Of course. You’re the boss.”

  So that’s how it was. They weren’t just members of his pack, they were his pack. He led, and they followed. No wonder his tone became harsh and no-nonsense when he spoke to them.

  “So how do you want to divide us up, Byron?” one of the older members of the pack asked.

  “You know your strengths. I want the better fighters to stake out the Mardi Gras. Klaus said he’d send a limo over there in about an hour and a half. You’ll know it by the smell.” A few more snickers traveled around the room. “Take some of Greg’s wooden-tipped bullets with you. Now that we know they work, there’s no need to bloody ourselves with hand-to-hand combat.”

  “But what if we want to rip their heads off?” another asked.

  Instead of discouraging the idea, Byron just grinned. “Just remember you’ll be in a public place. Eddie always preached about the importance of discretion.”

  A few of the men shuffled on their feet and cast uncomfortable glances in her direction.

  “Don’t worry about her. She’s a vampire hunter. She’s used to dealing with things most normal people refuse to believe exist.” He caught her gaze in a challenge as if to say, “Are you going to believe me now?”

  One side of her mouth rose higher than the other, creating what she’d heard referred to as her token “You’re full of it” smile.

  “As for the rest of you, I need the best trackers to come with me. Go into Espe’s room, get a hold of her scent, and let’s find her before that Klaus asshole makes her lunch.”

  The men sprang into action. Four of them slipped into the bedroom he pointed to and started sniffing Espe’s pillows. The rest opened the boxes Greg set out on the table and began loading their guns. She stepped forward to stop them before they got themselves all killed, but Byron caught her and pushed her back into her bedroom.

  “No, Lana, let them do it.”

  “But—”

  “No ‘buts’. When the vampires murdered Eddie, they broke the treaty.”

  Her hands curled into fists. “You had a fucking treaty with vampires?”

  “Not me. Eddie formed it years ago with the local vampires before I even joined the pack. Basically, they agreed to stay away from our ranch, and we agreed not to hunt them. You see, you’re not the only one who thinks the world would be a better place without bloodsuckers.”

  “But why the hell did he agree to it?”

  “Because, I told you, most of the werewolves Eddie took in were young and confused. He did it to protect us while he taught us what it meant to be a werewolf and how to handle our new condition. If he didn’t, the vampires probably would have wiped us out years ago.”

  She peered out into the main room at the grim faces of the men preparing for battle. The pack’s loyalty to one man spoke of his influence over them. No wonder Byron seemed so determined to have his revenge. “Eddie must have been one helluva man.”

  Sadness darkened his eyes. “He was. I only hope I can be half the man he was.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. The more she knew about Byron, the more her heart ached for him. She wanted to take him in her arms and kiss his pain away. How could she have come to care so much for someone she’d only met three days ago? “Where do I fit into your plan?”

  “You stay here. Let us deal with him.”

  Her joints locked into place. “Not a chance, wolf-boy. This was the Foundation’s fight long before it was yours, and Klaus is playing games with me now, not you. I’m the one he wants.”

  “Which is exactly why you’re going to wait in your room until we kill him.”

  “Bullshit.” She shoved him aside and opened the mini-arsenal in her closet. She grabbed a custom-made holster for her stake and strapped it to her thigh. “I’m a trained vampire hunter. This is what I do for a living.”

  “You’re also my mate, and I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to you.” As soon as he said the words, he looked like he wanted to puke.

  “Your mate?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and a low hiss blew through his teeth. “I’ll explain later.”

  “Just because we slept together doesn’t make me your property.” She dug out her small crossbow and snatched a bundle of bolts for it.

  “It’s more than that.”

  “Then what?”

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her. At first, he seemed to be trying to bend her to his will, pillaging her mouth with his tongue. But then, something changed. His kiss softened, pleading with her to accept him with each gentle twist of his tongue.

  She eased into him and allowed the heat to flow through her body. Ever since last night, she knew something had changed between them, but it terrified her to admit it. She could fall in love with him so easily. It felt like he’d been made especially for her, and his absence would leave an empty void in her soul. All the more reason not to let him continue on this suicide mission.

  “Byron, we—” Greg’s voice came from the doorway and they jumped apart, ending the kiss far sooner than she would’ve liked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “It’s okay.” Byron pressed his lips against her cheek one more time before devoting his full attention to his friend. “Everyone ready?”

  “Yeah. Pete even thinks he may have a lead on Espe’s scent.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  La
na slung the crossbow over her shoulder and tucked the bolts into a specially designed harness that she could strap onto her arm. “I’m coming with you.”

  “No, you’re staying.” He practically growled at her, and she caught the flash in his eyes.

  He might lead the pack, but she wasn’t a member of it. “Get used to disappointment.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Byron’s Jeep crawled through the streets of South Las Vegas. His theory about Klaus setting a trap at the Mardi Gras seemed dead-on so far.

  Behind him, Pete stood on the backseat while holding on to the roll bar and sniffing the air. “Turn left.”

  He did, and a few tendrils of Espe’s scent tickled his nose. “We’re getting closer,” he whispered to Lana.

  She sat next to him and flexed her fingers around her mini-crossbow. Why she didn’t grab a gun and some of Greg’s bullets, he didn’t understand. When he questioned her about it, she replied that she preferred the old ways.

  “I can smell her now, too,” Greg added from the backseat. “She’s still alive.”

  “How do you know?” The steely edge in Lana’s voice matched the sharp point on the bolts in her holster.

  “Dead humans smell different than live ones.”

  “Do I smell?”

  “You have your own unique scent,” Byron answered. One that still nearly drives me blind with lust. He worried he might not be able to concentrate with her nearby, especially now that they’d bonded. He had tried to explain it to her earlier, but quickly realized that it could wait. No need to add to her worries or her guilt. “Why do you ask?”

  “I overheard one of the vampires say they couldn’t smell me the other night.”

  He glanced up in the rearview mirror at Greg. His friend shrugged as if to say he’d never heard anything about that. “If that’s the case, then maybe they won’t know you’re coming.”

  “But they can smell you, right?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Stop,” Pete hissed. He lifted his nose to the air, and his eyes widened. “Turn off your lights and hide.”

  A wave of vampire stench rolled toward them like a tsunami. Pete and Greg disappeared into an alley. Byron turned off the engine and grabbed Lana’s wrist a second later, pulling her after them. From the intensity of it, the bloodsuckers outnumbered the four of them at three to one. A limo with dark tinted windows drove by them, followed by two more cars with the same blackened glass. Klaus’s trap.