A Hunter's Challenge [The Hunters 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) Read online

  She looked behind him.

  “Erica?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, nîcimos, we still can’t find her.”

  “Why are you here?” she said shrilly. “Go away! I told you not to come here unless you found her.”

  “I’m so sorry. I just wanted to tell you... I...”

  “Go away!”

  Martin felt he had no choice but to leave. His heart felt leaden as he turned away from Amy and walked out the house. He quickly flew back to Anthan’s. Anthan looked up in surprise as Martin walked in.

  “Don’t say anything!” he warned as he walked through the room and headed down the stairs to his bedroom.

  When he rose that evening, he felt awful. Somehow he felt that finding Erica alive was linked to Amy accepting him. With each day proving unsuccessful, his chances of finding Erica alive were dwindling and he felt his chances of convincing Amy to accept him lessened.

  Going upstairs, he rummaged in the fridge. There was not much worth eating in it. He poured a glass of milk. As he was drinking it Anthan walked into the room.

  Wisely, Anthan just said, “Ready to go?”

  Martin finished the milk and walked out onto the deck before launching himself off. He saw Anthan fly alongside. Once more, they flew together for an hour until Anthan peeled off to fly to his search area. Martin continued on to his.

  Again hour after useless hour.

  Again nothing.

  Anthan “spoke” to him a few times. Each time he sounded as frustrated as Martin. They both knew the chances of finding Erica alive were slim. Already she had been gone three nights, this was the fourth. They really had no idea if she was still alive. It was only Amy telling them she could psychically feel her pain that gave them any hope.

  In all honesty Martin was worried that either the strigoi had killed her or else the torture it inflicted and the toxins in her body had.

  Martin was mentally weary as he continued along his grid. Another half hour or so and it would be completed. He wondered how he would be able to face Amy with the news of yet another unsuccessful night’s searching.

  * * * *

  “Anthan! I think I have found her! If it isn’t her then it is another mortal who is alive!”

  “Okay. I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes. Don’t do anything till I get there!”

  “I won’t, I don’t want to risk the human.”

  “Good. Can you check out the area without being seen?”

  “Yes. I’ll transform into a possum and scuttle around.”

  Anthan increased his speed trying to cut down his flying time as much as possible. Who knew what the strigoi would do with whoever it had? He hoped it was the woman they were searching for. If not it meant there was definitely another strigoi in the area, unless Erica was already dead. He managed to cut his time down to just under forty minutes.

  Anthan grinned to himself when he landed some distance away where Martin was waiting. He must have got a little bored or was really edgy. He had found some eagle feathers and tied them into his hair. He wore no shirt, just his black jeans and the heavy black combat boots they both wore. As well, he had obviously moistened some dirt or crushed rock and drawn the paint lines of a warrior on his cheeks and chest.

  When he stood, Anthan thought his tribe would be proud of the man he had become. He looked every inch the fearsome warrior that he was.

  “I have some holy water, do you?”

  Martin nodded.

  “We need to distract it then one of us can hopefully get in a fatal hit.”

  “I’ll distract it then.”

  “Martin, if we time this right it will work. I’ll materialise behind it when you distract it. Ready?”

  Martin agreed. “Yes. Let’s go. I’ll grab the mortal and put her into a coma immediately for her safety.”

  Taking a deep breath, Martin nodded his readiness then yelling a Cree war cry, he charged into the lair. The strigoi had a woman in its hands, its long filthy nails digging into her. He dropped her in surprise and turned to face Martin as he raced in. At the same time as he turned, Anthan materialised behind him and sunk his knife deep into the back through the rib cage.

  The strigoi screamed in fury and in pain but managed to get a quick cut with its nails across Martin’s arm as Martin lashed out with his knife to slash across its throat. Anthan grabbed it and dragged it outside as Martin quickly went to the woman’s side and sent her into a deep sleep.

  Calling down the lightning, Anthan quickly destroyed the creature before heading into the lair. As he walked, he sprinkled the holy water around the entrance to the lair.

  “I’ve put her into a deep coma. I’m sure it’s Erica, I caught a scream of Amy’s name in her thoughts. Her mind is in turmoil but thankfully I was able to enter and send her into a deep sleep.”

  “Good. Is she badly hurt?”

  “Badly broken leg—it’s shattered really. Plus a broken arm. Hell of a lot of cuts, bites, slashes, and puncture wounds. Haven’t looked internally yet. She looks a mess, if she’s hurt inside she may not survive. We’ll have quite a few hours work to repair her.”

  Anthan stood looking around the lair thinking. He turned back to Martin.

  “Let’s see. We’re about two hours flying from her house. The sun’ll be rising in about an hour. Either we get her back and do the repairs there or else we have to stay here do what we can then sleep.”

  “I’d prefer to get her back to her house. What about you?”

  “Yeah, me, too, Martin.”

  He looked down at the woman. She was barely covered by her bloodstained and tattered clothing. Her well-padded and beautifully rounded body was a mess of wounds and tears, blood covering her. She had very long hair, at least as long as Martin’s, although Anthan thought it probably was much longer but at the moment it was a tangled mass. Filled with twigs and matted with blood from a cut on her head. She looked pale. Streaks of blood covered her face from the cuts and she had a wound on her temple that was bleeding freely.

  He thought despite the blood and dirt she was beautiful, filled with luscious curves that he found very attractive. He felt sad that another human had suffered so badly by strigoi.

  “Let me splint the leg with a thick branch, I’ll tie her arms to her chest then we can go.”

  “Okay, Anthan,” Martin agreed. “Be best if you take her. I took a cut to the arm, nothing much but it might be a bit weak until I repair it and she needs to be carried carefully.”

  Anthan nodded his agreement and then went to work splinting the broken bones in the woman’s leg as carefully as possible. He bound her arm tightly across her body so there was no chance of it moving as he carried her. Once done, he and Martin took to the air, Erica held tightly in Anthan’s talons as he transformed into a huge eagle.

  They were both so tired when they finally landed at the house. Martin called out to Amy as he walked in and held the door open for Anthan to enter. She took one look at him and gasped, taking a step backward.

  Anthan smiled to himself, Martin must have looked dangerous to her—his war paint still visible, he had no shirt on, and Amy would see blood on his arm from a cut. There were still feathers in his hair.

  “We found her. She’s alive.”

  Amy looked puzzled until looking past Martin, she saw Erica being gently held in Anthan’s arms. She flung herself forward into Martin’s arms, sobbing.

  Martin moved aside with her in his embrace.

  Anthan entered the house and asked Amy, “Do you have a dining table? It will be easier for us to work at one.”

  Amy nodded into Martin’s chest, then pulled away to lead them into the dining room. Anthan place Erica carefully on the table. Amy’s tears got heavier as they looked down at her sister.

  “She will be all right, nîcimos. We can heal her.”

  She looked up at Martin then across to Anthan, unsure of his words. Anthan gave her a weak smile and nodded.

  “I hope you’re right my
friend.” Aloud he said, “Right. Martin you take that side of her body and I’ll take this. First make sure you remove the marker. Don’t forget to check for poison everywhere. He’s had her for four days so it will have spread everywhere.”

  He looked at Martin. “I’m amazed the poison hasn’t killed her.”

  Martin nodded then said, “I’ll remember.”

  Anthan looked over to Amy.

  “This will take us a few hours. We’ll have to sleep at some point. Is there somewhere we can here? It will be too late for us to go outside.”

  “Yes. The room where Martin slept, it has two beds in it. Will she really be all right?”

  “I hope so. She has a really badly broken leg and her arm is also broken. They’ll take us the longest to repair. There are a lot of bite wounds, cuts, and punctures. We have no idea what damage is internally.

  “Because of how wounded she is, how weak her psychic control is from her ordeal, Martin was able to enter her mind and put her into a deep sleep—a coma. Her brain is completely blocked. She won’t feel any pain, nothing can enter her mind and she won’t wake until Martin gives her his command to.”

  “Nîcimos, I promise she’ll be fine.”

  She peered through her tears at Martin. He took her hand and lifted to his lips, kissed it, and then embraced her.

  Anthan looked over at her.

  “I promise also,” he vowed earnestly.

  He quickly pulled off the few tattered and bloodied remnants of her clothing. Amy gasped when she saw her sister’s body. It seemed like the entire surface of her torso was shredded. It was covered with blood mixed with dirt.

  “Just sit and let us work now. As Martin said, she’ll be okay.”

  Amy removed herself from Martin’s arms, pulled a chair away from the table and sat.

  Anthan looked at Martin. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  The two men sat on a chair either side of Erica, they centered themselves, then entered Erica’s body. To Amy watching they looked as if they were laying their hands on her sister and just closing their eyes.

  Slowly the minutes turned into hours as the two Hunters worked. Anthan felt other Hunters add their strength to the two of them as they worked. He repaired the badly broken leg, matching the bones carefully so there would be no chance of a limp. The bones were pulverised in places and it took all his ancient talent to repair them.

  He mended all the slashes, cuts, and punctures he could find on the side he worked on. There was so much poison in her body, Anthan was surprised she had managed to fight it. She would have been in such terrible pain. Often the poison killed the mortal long before the strigoi did because of the agony it produced as it filtered through the body.

  There were savage bruises to her liver, part of her intestine was ripped, and he found a tear in one kidney. Carefully he repaired every hurt he found. She had to have endured such agony.

  “Martin!”

  “Anthan, I can’t...”

  Both voices pierced through Anthan’s deep concentration. He withdrew from Erica and looked across the table. Martin was pale and drawn, his face a mask of perspiration. Amy looked at him fearfully.

  Anthan called, “You need to sleep, Martin. Now!”

  Martin tried to get to his feet but stumbled, falling against the wall. Amy quickly wrapped her arm around his waist. Anthan moved around the table and grabbed him from the other side. They walked him into the spare bedroom and let him fall onto one of the two single beds in there.

  He muttered, “Sorry, Anthan.”

  “Get some rest. Did you eat?”

  Martin shook his head, trying desperately to keep his eyes open.

  “Can’t remember.”

  “Make sure you eat when you wake. And feed. Feed before you do anything else.”

  “Yes,” he replied weakly as his eyes slid closed.

  “Will he be okay?” Amy’s voice was filled with fear for Martin.

  “Yes. The sun is very high. We can’t stay awake during its highest times. Plus he hasn’t eaten or fed. We’ve used up a lot of our reserves searching and then healing Erica.”

  “Why are you still awake?”

  He gave a wry laugh. “I’m older and more used to the sun but truthfully I can’t stay awake much longer. Let me just check your sister, then if I may, I must sleep.”

  “Yes, yes I understand. Thank you. I know you couldn’t survive outside at this time of the day anyway. It’s about 10:45.”

  Anthan gave a groan and staggered back into the dining room as Amy was removing Martin’s heavy boots. He quickly checked Erica’s body for remaining poison and made sure both breaks were set properly. He withdrew and looked at Amy.

  “She will sleep until Martin commands her to wake. He put her in a deep healing coma, nothing will enter her mind. Amy, when we sleep, it will seem as if we are dead. Our heart only beats once every five minutes in time with our breath. Don’t be afraid.”

  “Oh! Okay,” she answered warily.

  “When Martin wakes can you make sure he eats something please?”

  Amy looked across at her sister, then at Anthan.

  “Thank you, thank you for saving her. Yes, I’ll make something for you both to eat.”

  Anthan just nodded and lurched back into the bedroom, throwing himself on the remaining empty bed. He was asleep almost before his body hit the mattress.

  Chapter Ten

  Amy stood looking down at her sister’s body. She couldn’t believe that she was here, that she had survived. The horrid wounds that had crisscrossed her body were now all closed. They were still red, her body almost one huge black and purple bruise.

  The cuts on her face and head were also closed. The makeshift splint was still on her leg, but the bandage holding her arm in place was gone. Her beautiful long brown hair was a tangled mess. Amy wondered if she could clean her, but decided against it in case she opened some of the horrid wounds. Instead, she got a clean blanket and tucked it over her sister, covering her nakedness and giving her some warmth. She carefully placed a pillow under her head.

  For a long time, she stood looking at Erica. Her mind was churning. These men were nothing like the callous, merciless men that their grandmother had told them. They seemed open and honest, not manipulative and controlling. Both had worked on her sister’s wounds until they had passed exhaustion. They had searched for her nonstop without concern for their own health.

  She felt torn.

  As each day passed, she knew she was deeper and deeper in love with Martin. She had pushed him away and yet he had never tried to force himself on her. All he had asked for was that she make one exchange. And that exchange was for her own safety, it didn’t seem to be a way of controlling her. His reasons for it did make sense, if she were honest to herself.

  He had come as soon as she called to save her sister. Yet, yesterday morning she had sent him away. All he had wanted was to reassure her, and she had screamed at him.

  Both men could have washed their hands of her but instead they had continued searching, pushing themselves way beyond their own tiredness.

  When they had returned after finding Erica, her heart leapt at the sight of Martin standing proudly. He looked like a Native American, maybe that was his heritage. When she saw him at the doorway, he looked so wonderful. Then she saw him to the point of collapse, her heart had almost jumped from her chest. She thought something bad had happened to him.

  Even Anthan, who seemed more distant and somehow lost, was honourable and caring. Somehow she had to find the truth.

  Their parents had disappeared when she and Erica were young and their grandmother had taken the two girls and brought them up.

  She only dimly remembered her mother. She had been taken ill suddenly and rushed to hospital. Their grandmother had come to the hospital to see her. There had been a terrible fight but Amy and Erica had left with their grandmother.

  The following day they had moved far away and neither girl had seen their pa
rents since. A month after that day they had moved to Australia and remained here ever since, becoming Australian citizens when their grandmother became one. Her grandmother had told them their mother had died in hospital and her father had given both girls to her.

  Amy tried to look at the memory of the day after being at the hospital with the hindsight of an adult. She remembered her grandmother had told them that their mother had died. As an adult looking back, her mother hadn’t seemed that ill and the fight between her parents and grandmother seemed to have nothing to do with illness. Her father had been very angry and shouted a lot at Gram.

  She needed to talk things through with Erica and see what she remembered. Erica was older, she was forty-one while Amy was thirty-six, which meant she was eight when it happened. She may remember things clearer. Even though Amy was only a baby at the time she did remember that Gram rarely came to visit and whenever she did, there were always arguments between Gram and her parents.

  Both girls had stayed with their grandmother until they were in their mid-twenties. Erica had left first when she began working as a photographer for a newspaper. A couple of years later Amy had left. She had found employment as a bookkeeper for a large firm and had been with them ever since.

  Neither sister had married. Neither could find a man that they felt comfortable with. Amy had a few lovers but none seemed able to satisfy her. She had the feeling her sister had never even done that.

  Anyway, they had visited their grandmother regularly until she died when she was in her eighties a few years back. She had left her house to them both. They sold it and Amy had bought her house with it.

  Erica had been travelling overseas a lot and had only recently returned to Australia. She was renting the house she lived in at the moment while she looked for something to buy. She was now a highly successful freelance photographer of wildlife as well as scenes and her work sought after by a number of companies.

  Erica had been the one who had cleared up Gram’s house when she died. Maybe there was something she may remember. Gram used to keep a journal. Amy wondered where it was now and, more fearfully, what was in it.