A Hunter's Passion (2 page)

Blinking, Ryker studied his brother’s grave face, struggling to comprehend the meaning behind his words. “What about Jenna?” Anger colored his cheeks, his thoughts darting in countless directions. “Is she hurt? Did something happen—”

“
No
,” his brother scoffed, before muttering under his breath. “Lord Almighty, and Dad said
you
were the intelligent one.”

“What? Then what’s going on...” Understanding silenced him the moment he caught sight of the guilt in his brother’s eyes.
It’s Jenna
...the way he’d said it, his voice thick with emotion. “No,” Ryker stammered. “No, Jenna is human...she’s perfect...she’s a bloody librarian for crying out loud, not—”

“She’s a witch.”

A snarl tore free of Ryker’s reared lips as he lunged forward. “Shut your damn mouth!” he thundered, fingers curling into his brother’s shirt.

Silence blanketed them, as though the world hung on a precipice awaiting Mason’s response.

“Believe what you will, little brother,” Mason finally spoke, his eyes softening with compassion. “But the fact remains that she’s been named, and we aren’t the only ones who will be searching for her.”

“Who else?” Ryker demanded.

Mason lifted a shoulder. “Not a clue. I was just told to do our job before the other hunter does. I just thought you might want first dibs.”

Without another word, Mason pushed a hand into his jeans’ pocket and retrieved a slip of paper, the scent of incense still lingering on the curled edges. Ryker would know that fragrance anywhere. Still, he refused to look down, refused to acknowledge all that his brother was saying. A lie, a trick—for what purpose, he’d no idea. Jenna was like no other in this world, but accusing her of sorcery...that went too far. He’d loved her, but she’d walked out. And now his brother stood before him, claiming the only woman he’d ever loved was some filthy magic user?

Baring his teeth, Ryker released Mason, watching with cold eyes as he teetered back onto the step. There was nothing left to say, no words that could diminish this fury burning a hole through his chest. The only one who could lessen this pain was the accused herself.

Perhaps it was time to find her.

Chapter Two

“So, how long
has
it been?”

Jenna Sinclair winced, her hand stilling as she reached for her cup of coffee. Every time she braved meeting with Kara, the conversation always found its way to sex; the woman was obsessed with it. Every inane thought that filled her head was sexual in some fashion—positions, size, curve—it was ridiculous.

“Bet I can guess,” Kara continued, leaning over the small table with a lewd grin.

“No one asked you to,” Jenna grumbled.

When Kara had suggested they meet for coffee, Jenna had been relieved. It’d been a particularly harrowing day; her skin itched with the pent-up need for a little release. It wasn’t just sex she’d been denying herself, but also magic. Her entire body hummed with potent energy and the air surrounding her all but crackled. A short coffee break had seemed the perfect escape. At the time.

“Call it my gift to you,” Kara snickered. “And if I’m right...” Her sentence faded, eyes aglitter with mischievousness.

Jenna shot her friend a droll look. Whatever schemes Kara was plotting, Jenna didn’t want to play.

“You have to go talk to the delicious vanilla sundae that just walked in,” Kara finished, her chin jerking to indicate someone Jenna couldn’t see across the café.

Jenna silently counted to ten, praying for a little patience. She could only imagine the man Kara was eyeballing. Tall, muscled in all the right places, chiseled jaw and soulful eyes that held a world of pain. Kara had her type, and while any man with a penis would do, she only referred to certain ones as
delicious.

“Let’s see—” Kara tapped her chin, her lips curving as she studied Jenna’s form.

“I didn’t agree to your terms yet,” Jenna sighed, wracking her brain for a way out of this. The very last thing she wanted was to chat up some stranger. Regardless of her unbalanced emotional and magical state, she still had no desire to meet a man. Not tonight, not again, not ever.

Reaching for her caramel latte, she lifted it to her mouth and inhaled the sweet aroma. Steamed milk dotted her upper lip as she took a small sip, amusement and annoyance warring in her stomach. At least her friend was consistent.

“Oh, come on! Don’t be such a spoilsport.” Kara pouted, batting her long, dark eyelashes at her. “What harm can come from talking with someone? Let me have my fun.”

What harm?
Jenna could think of plenty. “How about this,” she mumbled against the rim of her cup. “You guess correctly and
you
can go talk to him.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kara grumbled, her eyes narrowing. “Girl, you need to lighten up a little. Cut loose, break some rules...you act like everything could lead to some great catastrophe.”

Jenna laughed. If only Kara understood what she was asking. A couple years ago, Jenna might have agreed with her. Some innocent flirting, a little playful teasing...but then her entire world had flipped on its side. With the awakening of her magic and the deaths of the two people who had meant most to her, she no longer saw life through rose-colored glasses. Every choice came with consequences, every relationship with lies—even hers and Kara’s, and she hated it.

“I’m sure
you
of all people could find something exciting to do with him,” Jenna teased dryly, her eyes lingering on her friend’s ample curves.

Collecting men came naturally to Kara, something Jenna had never envied. Men flocked to her luscious hourglass figure, tempted by her curves. Jenna preferred her own athletic build. Long and lean, she was more suited to running a marathon than her bikini babe of a friend.

“Mmm, the things I could do to him.” Kara laughed as she brushed a lock of sable hair back over her shoulder. “That is the most delectable treat just waiting to be nibbled. I can’t imagine he’d be healthy for me in any fashion.”

Mirth graced Jenna’s mouth, her humor reappearing. “Like that’d stop you.”

A peal of laughter bubbled from Kara’s throat as she fiddled with her blouse, loosening the top button and plumping her breasts. “Not in a million years, darling. He’s far too scrumptious to deny. Tall, blond, sinful...just the way I like them.”

Unsure whether to pity the poor man or congratulate him, Jenna leaned back in her chair and took another sip. Whoever the poor sod was, he was in for a shock. Kara would hit on him, as was her way, and he would ask for her number. He’d take her out, show her a good time both in and out of bed, and then she’d drop him like a hot potato, ready for her next conquest. Same tune, different man. Sadly, they never failed to succumb to her wiles, only to be tossed out in the cold. Kara liked her men one way and one way only: disposable.

“By the way,” Kara called out as she swayed across the coffee shop, her designer heels clacking against the tile.

Jenna spun in her seat and met Kara’s gaze, still unable to spot her friend’s latest target.

“Two years.” Was all Kara said, her matter-of-fact tone daring Jenna to deny it.

Breath catching in her throat, Jenna stared wide-eyed after Kara. How the hell could she know such a thing? It wasn’t exactly something Jenna spoke about and surely it couldn’t be so obvious...could it? Was she walking around with a giant, blinking sign above her head that read
virgin reincarnated?

So, maybe she was overdue for a fling, but that was something she just wasn’t willing to risk. Far too dangerous, and not just for her, but also for whatever unlucky fool she tumbled into bed with. With her magic tied to her emotions, she feared letting anyone close enough to test what would happen in moments of intense pleasure. She’d attempted it herself, but whenever she neared those final moments, fear jerked her back, ruining the moment.

Throwing her a final saucy grin, Kara spun and strutted toward the unsuspecting bloke leaning against the counter. Unable to tear her eyes away, Jenna draped an arm over the back of her chair, watching the event unfold. He’d come in for coffee, and was about to leave with a dark, lusty beauty. She wasn’t sure if this was his lucky day or not.

With an arched brow, Jenna’s gaze climbed the length of his strapping body. A flicker of déjà vu dulled her thoughts; there was something all too familiar about this man, though she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Chuckling under her breath, she shook her head. It was doubtful she knew him. Ever the wallflower, she rarely ventured to new places. Fear of discovery held her prisoner within her small house. It would take only one slipup and people would be lighting their torches and burning her at the stake.

What friends she had managed to gain since discovering the truth of her heritage were predominantly online, where she could maintain certain anonymity. Kara was the one exception, their friendship blossoming until Jenna felt she had something she’d never had before: a sister. Kara was the only one willing to overlook some of Jenna’s eccentricities.

That tickle of recognition lingered as her gaze roamed the broad width of his shoulders and back, sheathed in a well-worn canvas jacket. They were popular as far as jackets went, but warmth still spread through her stomach as a haunting memory of former happiness sparked to life. Her nose filled with a remembered scent clinging to the dark material, her fingers twitching as she recalled how soft and supple it was beneath her touch. All ghosts of the past and ones she didn’t want to face. Closing her eyes, she succumbed to the image of one Ryker Bennett, though no good could come from thinking about him.

Blithely happy, she’d believed the two of them to be perfect for one another. She couldn’t have been more wrong. She’d fallen head over heels in love with him, and then been forced to leave him. A mocking snort rose from the back of her throat; she’d been such a fool to think they could have built a future together.

Grimacing, she pushed the ghostly memory from her mind and focused on the present. Ryker wasn’t a part of her life any longer, and thinking about him did nothing but dredge up past pains. He was little more than a phantom, a dark shadow that she’d never been able to shed light on.

Envy reared its ugly head as she watched Kara delight her newest victim. So free, so careless—Jenna longed for those days. Regardless of what she wanted, she could not return to the time before she’d learned of her family’s heritage.

Life had been simpler then, without this constant need to keep what she was a secret. Truth be told, she hated what she’d become—a darkling, as Ryker and his family called them, creatures that haunted the night and preyed on the innocent.

The sight of Kara’s fingers dancing a seductive path down the man’s firm arm snapped Jenna from her thoughts. Such devout interest shone in her friend’s face—clearly she’d found her newest play toy.

Or perhaps not
, Jenna mused as she watched the stranger brush Kara’s hand away.

Stunned, she straightened and studied him more intently. Everything about him was standoffish—rigid back, tight neck, the distance he kept between them. Whenever Kara reached for him, he simply wasn’t there, avoiding her touches with grace and poise. The very notion tickled Jenna’s fancy. Perhaps she shouldn’t have taken pleasure in her friend’s rejection, but it was just so rare an event, how could she not?

For one brief moment, she contemplated allowing her friend to sink, to feel the fiery burn of his cold shoulder. The thought gave her such a giddy satisfaction that she had to clap her hand over her mouth to muffle her snickers—until wrath lit within Kara’s eyes, her mouth thinning with displeasure. Beautiful as she may have been, the woman also possessed a hot temper. Unfortunately for the poor guy, he was about to get an earful, all because he wasn’t interested.

Didn’t seem very fair.

Resigned, Jenna pushed to her feet and smoothed down her sundress. Though it wasn’t her responsibility to clean up Kara’s messes, she couldn’t just abandon him to her friend’s fury. Deep down, she felt pity for the poor guy. All he’d wanted was a cup of coffee, not to be harassed by some sexually overcharged woman who hated to hear the word
no.

Pasting a forced grin on her face, Jenna approached from behind, noting how quickly Kara’s gaze snapped to hers. Eyes ablaze with anger, she jerked her chin to the side, silently indicating that Jenna should leave. But how could she? This coffee shop was her favorite spot, and if Hurricane Kara was unleashed upon this poor stranger, it seemed doubtful they’d be allowed to return.

“Listen, lady,” a disapproving baritone rumbled from his chest. “I don’t give a damn who you think you are...”

Jenna sucked in a sharp breath, her heart stopping. Stiffening, a wave of emotion cascaded within, her blood running cold as his words echoed in her ears. That voice...she’d know it anywhere. It
couldn’t
be, but denying the truth was dangerous. Nights spent pining for it, torturing herself as she recalled his whispered words claiming to love her...

No,
no.

Bottom lip trembling, her gaze rose, sweeping over his neck, searching. From afar, the collar of his jacket had concealed it, but now her attention was pulled to a pair of identical crosses inked into the flesh beneath his hairline. She’d only ever met one family that donned such a brazen tattoo—a modern means of protection against the dark creatures they hunted. It was difficult to sink fang into a neck emblazoned with the holy symbol.

Once, she’d felt nothing but gratitude for the mark that kept the vampires from tearing into his throat, but now she felt trepidation. There was no denying who it was that stood before her.

Ryker Bennett.
The one man she’d hoped never to lay eyes on again, and the only one she secretly longed for in the dead of night. No words came to mind, no clever repartee or witty one-liners. Her mouth was bone-dry, her voice missing in the parched desert that was her throat.

The only thought in her mind was to flee. She knew what he was, and more importantly, knew what
she
was. If she ever wanted to see another sunrise, she needed to leave, right now—grab whatever she could and get the hell out of town. She’d run once, she could do it again.

Heart in her throat, she shifted her weight back onto her heel, about to make her escape when he suddenly turned.

A soft haze filled her head the moment his familiar steel gaze narrowed on her. He seemed unsurprised to have found her standing behind him. Instead, there was nothing but accusation in his eyes.

Chest tight, she bravely met his accusing stare as everything else faded away. He carried a world of pain within and she knew she was the cause. Regardless, the last thing she’d expected was for his lips to rear back over his teeth, snarling at her in disgust. She’d always expected that he’d be furious with her for leaving, but never had she imagined it to this extent. Hate emanated from him, his body tight with revulsion.

Scalding tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. It seemed the moment that often haunted her nightmares had come to pass. There was no denying the way he glared at her, impossible to ignore the blatant allegations twisting his face.

Ryker knew she was a witch.