Taming the Hunted (3 page)

“Do you love Gabriel?” Marian asked, curious about their
relationship, and if this wolf could in fact be different from others of his
kind.

“He will not remember, but he once paid me a kindness when
he was a child.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Marian pointed out.

“Nor you mine.”

Marian could not fault her on that. She hadn’t addressed her
statement about loving him, and had no intention of doing so. Besides, she
didn’t even know if she knew the answer. Could she love a man she had known
barely a day? A wolf at that. Wolves mated with little time for courtship, and
for life. She wasn’t ready for that, not to give up her life as a hunter.

“Be careful, hunter. This is no place for a human. You
should leave, now.” With that, she eased back into the trees, invisible in the
darkness and quiet as a cat.

“Nole?” Marian called out. She got no reply and could no
longer sense Nole’s odd presence.

The conversation had unnerved her. The little girl saw too
much, and rumor had it that werecats were also fortune tellers. Her last words,
to leave now, had seemed more like a warning than an idle comment. Their
conversation had made one thing clear, however…she was not ready for where this
may lead. She would heed the warning. At first light, she would leave, with or
without Gabriel’s aid.

The sounds of the fight grew fainter as the minutes ticked
by, and she assumed they were gaining control of themselves…or they had killed
each other. She shook her head to clear that idea and regretted it when the
throbbing behind her skull grew to such a pitch that she had to knead her
temples in an attempt to calm it.

She didn’t even have time to open her eyes before the calm
night air was split, a rushing noise was all the warning she had as she was
slammed to the side with the jarring force of a car wreck. A white, hot pain
ran down her back as her ribs cracked from the impact. A tearing, wet sensation
coursed through her skin as something ripped deep into her flesh. She cried out
so loud that her scream echoed around the dense trees.

The dark outline of a huge wolf sprawled across the path in
front of her face as she thudded to the ground. Regaining its legs, it took off
down the path with one backward glance, its claws stained dark with her blood.

Pain flared in Marian’s back with every agonizing breath.
The blackness faded in and out as she tried to remain conscious, her breath
coming in short, sharp gasps as she lay paralyzed in the dirt.

Aware of her surroundings, she felt someone touching her,
but the memory blended with nightmares of huge beasts rearing over her and the
sounds of wolves racing through her mind. There were voices that at times she
was sure were real, but as they talked of hunts and deaths she knew they were
part of her waking dreams.

It was the realization that she was no longer in pain that
made her think she was still asleep, even though she could smell the hot
porridge somewhere in the room and feel the warm sun on her skin. She sat up,
flinching as the skin on her back stretched tight. With her fingertips, she
explored the two thick scars which wrapped around her side and up across her
back. She flinched as she turned, trying to see what had happened to her.

Her brain felt sluggish, but one thought persisted: she was
hungry. Her body yearned for food as hunger pains stabbed at her, overriding
all other needs. Scanning the room, she found a bowl of porridge on the table
by the window. Its white, fluffy mounds drew her in as she picked up the scent
of cinnamon and creamy, warm milk. She sat and looked at it for a moment.
Moving slowly, Marian stood, balancing before moving to the window seat.

Glorious food, where have you been all my life?
It
was as good as it smelled and she shoveled it into her mouth with relish. Her
stomach growled as she stood, looking for something else to devour, the small
bowl not filling the hole in her appetite.

She twisted in the window bay as she scanned the room. The
skin on her back stretched, but wasn’t painful. That was reassuring. It meant
she could hunt down something else to eat.

The room looked odd to her. The curtains were closed, yet
she could see with detail each corner of the space with no effort. Despite her
accident, she felt firm on her feet. Confident in each step she took toward the
door, her body moved with the strength and agility of a cat as she stalked her
next meal. The smell from the kitchen guided her, the faint scent of cold meats
and coffee. She didn’t give her accident another thought as she made her way
across the entry, the floorboards cold on her bare feet.

The kitchen was full of large, brawny men, whom she guessed
were the other occupants of the house. Ignoring them, she made for the fridge,
its large, gleaming stainless-steel doors seeming to call to her. Grabbing a
packet of what smelled like ham, she shoved a handful in her mouth before
closing the door. She found the bread and made herself a sandwich, which she
consumed whilst making another. After the third, her hunger began to lessen and
she allowed herself to sit as she ate, boosting herself onto the marble bench
top.

“Marian.”

She looked up to find Gabriel and the rest of the household
staring at her. The sun felt warm on her skin through the window behind her, and
she groaned and leaned back further into it. “What?” she said around the bread
and ham, but it came out more like “Whooft.”

Gabriel watched her eating. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got attacked by a werewolf. Got any milk?” she asked
once she’d swallowed.

He tapped the shoulder of the guy in front of him who was
staring at her, his mouth ajar. He seemed to come to himself after a second
tap, which was more of a slap across the back of his head, and jumped up to get
the milk. He poured her a glass, but with a second glance at her, poured
another before placing the carton back in the fridge. Marian drank down the
first glassful in just seconds. She was getting full now though, so when he
handed her the second glass with a crooked smile, she sipped it slower and
offered her hand to him.

“We haven’t met. I’m Marian.” She shook his hand, admiring
how warm his calloused skin was to the touch.

“Jake.”

“Say, Jake,” Marian said, looking around the room. “Why is
everyone staring at me?”

Several of the men looked away. Raphael, who she noticed was
sitting on the far side of the large wooden table, his blond hair glowing in
the sunlight like a halo, chuckled, until a sharp elbow in the ribs from Gabriel left him gasping instead.

“You’re in your underwear,” Gabriel said bluntly.

She looked down and, sure enough, she had not a scrap of
real clothing on. She sat shocked for a moment, noting that most of the men
were smirking, but also sporting very red faces. She turned on Jake, as he was closest, and all but ripped his shirt off as her heart beat faster in
embarrassment, a heavy, warm flush rising on her chest. She struggled for a
moment, trying to get the shirt over his head with one hand and trying to
maintain her modesty with the other.

He attempted to help at first, but as she struggled with it,
her body brushed against his and he stopped with a quick, inhaled breath. When
she donned the shirt, she punched him as hard as she could in the gut for being
a jerk and, to her surprise, he doubled over in pain.

“Serves you right,” she told him through gales of laughter
from the others.

She praised her five-foot-six frame for being so short when
the shirt came to mid-thigh as she wriggled into it from her sitting position.
Jake was a big guy also. In fact, now that she wasn’t so distracted by hunger,
or being naked, she noticed that there were maybe eight guys in the kitchen
with her and not one under six-foot-four.

Gathering her thoughts, she decided there were pressing
matters to handle, such as why she was semi-naked in the first place and how
the claw marks on her back had healed already. She remembered little and had no
idea of how much time had passed, but it could not have been more than a few
hours, a day at most.

“You, you, and you,” she said, pointing to Gabriel, Raphael, and Jake, being the only three she had met before. “Stay. The rest of you
out,” she commanded, sliding off the bench to stand for good measure.

Gabriel looked taken aback at first. She didn’t miss the
fact that the others all looked to him at her demand and only left after he
gave them the okay with a slight nod of his head.

“Marian, I—” Gabriel started, but she cut him off.

“I have some questions, and I’m not leaving until they’re
answered, and I have another sandwich,” she added as an afterthought.

Jake, seeming to want to get out of the line of fire, moved
to do the latter.

“Right, most important questions first. Where are my clothes?”

“That’s the most important question?” Raphael commented,
looking to Gabriel.

“I thought that would have been obvious,” Gabriel said. “But clearly not,” he added when she stared at him. “You were injured, and I
needed to tend to your wounds.”

“Not to mention your clothes were covered in blood and mud,”
Raphael pitched in, looking a little excited by the idea.

“You were there?” she asked, flinching as Gabriel wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her back on the bench. He moved his hands
lower to rest on her hips, a movement she found she didn’t mind as much as she
would have thought. Their weight felt comforting around her and helped her feel
grounded, protected in her current state of uncertainty.

“I sent Steve to look for Terrance, the guy who attacked you.
He had run away after the, ah, incident,” Gabriel explained.

“I carried you in,” Jake said, looking proud of himself as
he handed her a triple-decker sandwich with hamburger meat, cheese, pepperoni,
mayonnaise, cold sausage, and lettuce.

Marian smiled at him. He stood beside her against the bench,
shooting nervous glances at Gabriel every few seconds.

“How long was I out?”

“Two days,” Gabriel said, watching her with an awkward
protectiveness about him.

She was aware that in her semi-naked state, her legs fell on
either side of Gabriel as he stood protectively over her. Her bare flesh
clamped against his legs and her warm middle clenched in need for his cock
which rested just inches from her. Her eyes kept darting to the bulge in his
pants. A fact she was sure he was aware of, although she never caught him
looking. It appeared her hunger was not isolated to food. She pined for the
fullness that Gabriel could provide, the feel of him inside her, moving,
grinding along her slick, wanting pussy.

She did the math in her head to distract herself from more
pleasurable thoughts. Two days made tonight a full moon, and healing in two
days was not a power humans possessed.

She needed some answers fast, and sex, but first answers.
Come nightfall, she would have a house full of werewolves to deal with, and if
her next sentence went badly, she may have to think fast to get out of there.

“So you’re the alpha werewolf, aren’t you, Gabriel?”

There was a thump as his elbow slipped off the bench and caught
the edge of the knife that Jake had used to cut the bread. His arm trickled
blood on the floor. Cursing under his breath, he went to the sink to wash it
off. The other two men stared at her open-mouthed. She expected as much and
started on her sandwich whilst they composed themselves.

“I, um…how?” Gabriel asked.

Marian found it adorable at how lost for words he was. She
wondered if this was a first for him, being trumped by a woman. He probably
thought he was hiding their secret quite well. He didn’t look angry though, she
observed with interest, just intrigued.

She guessed from the way he’d looked at her when she first
walked in that he knew she’d worked it out. Otherwise, she would have never
been so bold to say it flat out.

“How did you know?” he asked, his arm healing as she
watched.

“It’s my line of work.”

“And what line of work would that be?” Raphael smirked,
assuming, she was sure, that she was some kind of researcher.

“I’m a hunter.”

There was a scrape as Raphael’s chair skidded across the
floor. He launched himself at her across the kitchen, scattering plates and
glasses from the table.

Gabriel was still between them though. In one swift motion, Gabriel bounced him out the window with a splitting crash, raining glass down over her head as
she used her arms to protect her face. Jake issued a furious growl, but with a
glance to his leader exited the kitchen, almost breaking the door from its
hinges with an ominous crack in his haste.

She was thankful only two of the pack members had remained
with them when she revealed her secret. She wasn’t sure how far Gabriel would go to protect her at the cost of his family, especially as the shadows darkened
on his own face at her announcement.

He threw her over his shoulder with a squeak of protest from
her. Turning, he dumped her into one of the more sturdy looking chairs at the
table, making her head spin at the sudden change of direction. So fast that his
hand was a blur, he flipped the armrests around on the chair and shackled her
to it with the metal cuffs attached to the underside.

“You are in so much trouble when I get out of here,” she
growled at him as she regained equilibrium, but wasn’t sure if she was going to
be able to act on the threat. As much as she hated to admit it, he was growing
on her. Those large arms, the heat in his eyes every time he looked at her, and
those shoulders that she longed to cling to as she writhed under his heavy
body.

“I have to look out for the pack,” he said, though his voice
wasn’t angry. “Now sit still like a good puppy and I might let you go before
dinner.”

She struggled with the cuffs, but they were an inch thick,
and she realized that in addition to that, the chair was bolted to the floor.
How on earth had she missed that little detail? And who bolts their furniture down
anyway? For a more important point, who had shackles attached to their kitchen
chairs!

She struggled a bit more, but gave up and kicked herself for
not retrieving the long knife from the chopping board next to her before
telling them what she was. Kicking sounded like a good idea though. Gabriel had forgotten that she had legs too, and they were swinging free.

“I won’t hurt you,” she said, trying for the bluff first. He
was too far away to get a good kick in anyway.

“No. The whole room still smells of sulphur.”

“What?”

Gabriel leaned down to talk to her, his face level with
hers. “You will learn that later, or sooner at the rate you’re going.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded, her
patience with the situation growing thin.

He sat and watched her, and she realized he was waiting for
her to calm down again. Slumping back, she applied her patient face.

“Good puppy, you’re learning.”

His leering tone made her squirm with frustration. If she
hadn’t been secured to a chair she would have thrown something at him for that,
but as she was, she just rolled her eyes, aware that this little game didn’t
help the growing arousal and heat that burnt in her body.

“You have an increase in body hair,” he continued.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and noticed that it
was at least a few inches longer. The weight of his words struck her. She
looked down at her legs and saw, to her horror, that she really needed a razor.

He crossed his legs at the ankle as he pulled his chair up
before her, propping his chin on his fingers. “You will also become faster as
the day goes on.”

“And body heat?” She saw where he was headed with this. She
had heard the stories of people who had been attacked by werewolves. Not many
lived of course. Those who did were thought to have been better off dead. Her
breathing became deep and ragged as her fear and anger welled within her. She
was turning into her prey; she was a werewolf.

The thought rocked her to the core. A building panic
threatened to claim her sanity. She quenched that emotion, grasping it with a
tight fist and shoving it deep into her body. Losing her head now could be
dangerous; she knew she needed him. A lone wolf was easy picking, especially if
that wolf had a lot of enemies. But could she trust Gabriel to see her through
this?