Hunting Evander

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Hunting Evander

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Hunting Evander Copyright 2010 Kim Knox

Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower

Cover art by Syneca

Electronic book publication January 2010

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Hunting Evander

Kim Knox

Table of Contents

Chapter One

About the Author

Chapter One

The seconds counted down and I frowned. Already I
’
d wasted too much time.

I stopped outside the bar and drew in a deep lungful of warm, filtered air. Running a hand through my hair, I glanced around me. The entrance to the bar had been set back beyond a bowl carved into the rock. Ice crusted the curves of the distant cavern roof. It clung to the cracks above the reach of the tech that brought warmth to the labyrinthine city below the miles of surface ice. The tunnels were empty at the late hour, the citizens of Lisala-7 finding pleasure in the outer-planet
’
s many dives. Only the whir of the air filters and the dulled throb of music cut the silence.

The Festival of
Chiaran
held the underground city in its grip and any who ignored the festivities were shipped off planet. No questions, no pleas. The
Lisalans
took their
festivals,
and this one in particular, very seriously.

I snorted. Of course, five days of licensed debauchery would be popular on any planet, but the
Lisalans
had made it compulsory.

I ran my fingers over the time-graft on my left wrist, the dark numbers turning over. Only twenty minutes left. My time was almost at an end and if it passed, I would forfeit the hunt. My mouth thinned. No, that was
not
going to happen.

I rolled my neck, the strap of leather tied at my nape creaking. I cursed. The skimpy halter-neck top barely covered my chest, exposed my arms and stomach. The shorts I wore were equally tight and revealing. I had to look the part. That was also compulsory. I stroked my fingers over the grip of the gun strapped to my thigh and felt better. Doran Evander—Van—lay on the other side of the pitted metal door. Find him and my hunt would be complete.

I pushed at the heavy door. The hinges creaked and rock dust drifted on the slight stir of the air. Throbbing music, the heavy odor of drugs and sex, hit me like a wall. I winced. Naturally, Van was hiding out here. Hell, he could
’
ve at least picked somewhere
clean
.

I stood to the side and the door
thunked
back into its frame. With my spine pressed against the smooth, cool rock wall, I let my eyes grow accustomed to the low light. The heavy beat of the music pounded through my blood and the heat of the interior pressed against my bared skin. Darkened shadows shifted, almost moving to the rhythms. Arms, legs, torsos…I couldn
’
t tell, and didn
’
t want to know. A bar counter stretched off to the left, its surface a soft, white glow. Bartenders served leisurely, as the clients who had made it to the counter didn
’
t seem overly interested in drinking.

I pushed myself away from the safety of the wall and headed for the bar. If anyone had seen Van stash himself away, then it was likely to be one of the staff on duty.

I insinuated myself between the bodies, planted my elbows on the counter and ignored the press of hot flesh against mine. The heavy beat dulled around the bar and I eased out a relieved breath. I could almost think again. The glow only illuminated those immediately in front of it. I glanced to my right and a caught a woman gripping the bar rail with whitened fists, panting, her body bared and only the movement of shadows behind her. Who and what drew out her increasing moans, I had no idea.

I looked away to catch the attention of one of the staff and jerked forward as a hand curved across my ass, long, warm fingers teasing, dipping between my thighs to
almost
find my pussy. Another hand eased over my hip and a hard, male body pressed up against my spine. I didn
’
t look down, but the slow slide of fingers over my bare stomach, the push of them under my leather top to cup my breast had me breathing fast. My belly tightened and I tried not to push back against the man
’
s hand between my thighs. It had been too long since I
’
d had sex…and
hell,
the thought of losing myself in the anonymity of the festival was tempting. But I couldn
’
t. I had a mission to fulfill.

A barman lifted an eyebrow, watching the fingers knead my breast. He met my gaze. “Not celebrating?
”

I didn
’
t turn, didn
’
t see who stood close behind me, his heat washing over my skin, the rhythmic rock against my backside chasing fire through my veins. Hell, I wouldn
’
t be able to see him as the bar
’
s interior tech dropped shadow immediately behind me.

A single finger circled, teasing through the tight fabric of my shorts to stroke over my pussy, a hot palm cupping my ass. I swallowed and held down a curse. Damn him. If I found offense then I would find myself booted off planet. I had to ignore him…as much as my body was warming to his clever touch.

“
I
’
m looking for the right man.
”
My words came out tight, quick, spoken to the barmen but meant for the man behind me.

“
Another time then.
”
He growled the words over my ear and I shivered. His calloused palm eased back from my breast and the other slid over my ass. He squeezed.
Hard.
“Hope the one you
’
re saving this for is worth it.
”
He pressed a hot kiss below my ear. “I
’
ll find you if he isn
’
t.
”

And then he was gone, his touch lost to the shadows.

I let out a slow breath, denying the raw heat in my flesh.
Bloody festival.
But then these people worked hard and long in the mines weaving through the ore-rich rock. They needed to find pleasure where they could. I ran my fingers over the time-graft and an image of Van flickered and then solidified.
Tall, lean, dark with smooth features and a tattoo spiraling down his left arm.
His image kicked the heat up in my gut and I let my gaze roam over him. Yes, he was far too
fuckable
.
“This one, in fact.
”

The man squinted.
“Those tattoos.
He looks
Tesh-dian
.
”

“
He is.
”

Dark eyes fixed on me and he frowned. “You
’
re best finding your pleasure at the front of house. Only a fool messes with a
Tesh-dian
.
”

“
Then I
’
m a fool.
”

“
This is festival time. The goddess says I must give you what you desire, freely and without charge.
”
The barman shrugged. “If you want him, he
’
s holed up in room six.
”
He pointed to the right and I craned my neck to see an illuminated archway. “It
’
s through there.
”

“
Thank you.
”

He snorted. “Thank me if you make it out alive.
”

I pushed myself away from the counter and dropped into the shroud of darkness. The heavy air, the thump of the music and the stroke of strangers
’
hands over my ass, my belly, cupping my
mons
, followed me as I pushed through the crush of writhing flesh. Lips brushed my skin,
whispers,
promises of how they would fuck me broke through the din and teased the shell of my ear.

My heart pounded and I wanted to deny how hot the wild, raw surge of sex held me. Fingers tugged at my clothes and I gripped my gun tight.
That
I couldn
’
t afford to lose. Holding tight to my weapon made it difficult to keep my stringy top in place and it came free with a hard yank of unknown hands. Other hands swept it away into the writhing bodies thick in the darkness.

My exposed breasts brushed up hard against a muscled back and my nipples peaked. Desire coiled tight in my belly. Yes, I
’
d left it too long. I was
Ambran
and I needed sex like I needed to breathe. The urge to press myself back against the strong hands cupping my ass was almost irresistible.

The surge of bodies pressed me up against the cool wall to the right of the glowing arch. A hot mouth found my breast, fingers sliding quick and sure between my thighs. He pushed aside my shorts and a strong finger slipped through my damp folds. My head fell back against the wall and I cursed, fighting the rapid rise of hot desire. Not here. I had a mission. My mission hid in room six.

I dropped down on my haunches, the mouth broke away from my flesh and I lost the delicious stroke of his fingers. I half-crawled beside the wall, my crouch weaving me past legs and what felt like the smooth caress of a slim tail skimming my bare spine. There were more than humans in the bar that
night
and I pushed down the ache to explore the available flesh.

I couldn
’
t help the laughter that escaped me. Hunting during the festival was turning out to be so much more problematic than I
’
d first anticipated.

I edged around the corner, the glow of the arch washing light over the naked bodies biting, licking, fucking, the heavy scent of sweat and sex thick in the warm air. Soft curses broke from me. Did Van think I wouldn
’
t follow him into this den of sex? That I would be too caught up in the insane atmosphere to find him? I turned my wrist, the time-graft showing just ten minutes remaining. My mouth thinned. I
’
d never failed a mission yet…and I was not about to make this my first.