Run Little Fawn (Hunter’s Mark #1)

Chapter 20

THE FAWN

I stare out the small oval window of the chartered jet as it soars through wispy clouds, my mind racing with the implications of what I've just done.

My stomach churns with both exhilaration and dread. If he's true to his promise, if he really has given me a fighting chance, this bold move will buy me precious time and distance.

I can't just run around the same general area if I want to evade him during the final round. I have to think big, spread my wings a little.

This will be a good test run.

But if he's been playing me all along, if the card is just another way to track my every move...

I need to know that, too.

I think I'd be disappointed, though. How fucked up is it that out of all the things he's done, that would be what gets to me? What makes me feel… betrayed?

I shake my head, pushing the thought aside. I can't afford to second-guess myself, not now. I have to believe that I'm making the right call, that I'm one step ahead of the game.

As the plane begins its descent into Las Vegas, I find myself scanning the faces of the other passengers, half-expecting to see a familiar shock of platinum hair and piercing gray eyes.

But of course, he isn't here. He's probably still back in New York, waiting for the Hunt to begin anew.

And yet, I can't shake the feeling that he's watching me somehow. That his presence lingers like a phantom just beyond my field of vision.

Every glimpse of the back of a tall, broad-shouldered man sends a jolt of adrenaline through my veins, every flash of pale skin and dark clothing makes my heart skip a beat.

It's maddening, this hold he has over me. How can someone so cruel, so ruthless, stir such conflicting emotions within me? How can I fear him and crave him in equal measure, despise him and yearn for him all at once?

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady myself. I can't let him get in my head, can't let him distract me from my goal.

I have a plan, a way to throw him off his guard and maybe even buy me some time before the hunt after this.

Round four.

And if it works, if I can stay one step ahead of him, maybe I'll have a chance of making it out of this twisted game alive.

The plane touches down with a jolt, the wheels screeching against the tarmac. I gather my meager belongings, my heart pounding as I make my way down the narrow aisle and out into the harsh desert sun.

A sleek black car is waiting for me at the curb, the driver leaning against the hood with a bored expression. He straightens up as I approach, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in my appearance.

"Kira Jensen?" he asks, glancing down at a clipboard in his hand.

I nod, the fake name a bit jarring to hear. "That's me."

He opens the rear door, gesturing for me to climb in. "Where to, Miss Jensen?"

I slide into the cool leather interior, my mind racing with the next step in my plan. "I need to go to a strip club called the Velvet Room. Do you know it?"

The driver does a double take, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. "A strip club? Uh, sure thing, lady. You got it."

I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head, the unspoken questions and judgments.

I don't exactly look the part of a strip club patron, with my plain clothes and tired eyes. But that's the point, isn't it?

To become someone else entirely.

Someone Lucian would never expect me to be.

As the car weaves through the garish neon jungle, I pull out the burner phone, my heart in my throat as I check for any new messages. But the screen is blank, no sign of Lucian or the hunt. Other than the last message.

7 AM. The Hunt begins anew.

- H

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, a flicker of hope sparking in my chest. Maybe he really is keeping his word, giving me a fair chance to outrun him. Or maybe he's just biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Either way, I can't afford to let my guard down. I have to stay focused, stay one step ahead of the game.

I pull up the website for The Velvet Room, my eyes scanning the garish red and black homepage. There, in bold letters, is the announcement I've been hoping for.

OPEN AUDITIONS TONIGHT

BECOME A VELVET VIXEN!

Fitting.

A laugh bubbles up in my throat, edged with hysteria. Am I really considering this? Am I actually going to audition to become a stripper just to throw Lucian off my trail? To hide in plain sight and bait him into making a rash move if he's half as possessive as I think he is?

It's insane. It's reckless.

It's quite possibly the stupidest thing I've ever done.

But it just might work.

The Velvet Room is the last place Lucian would ever think to look for me. It's a world away from the quiet, studious librarian he's been chasing, a far cry from the frightened fawn he's been hunting.

He told me I had to become a different person entirely, to shed my skin and transform into someone new...

And now, I'll be shedding my clothes, too.

The thought of the look on his face when he finally finds me makes my mouth pull into a wry smile.

The car pulls up to a seedy-looking motel, the neon sign flickering and buzzing in the fading light. "This is as close as I can get you," the driver says, his voice laced with a hint of concern. As if it's any of his business.

I force a smile, handing him a wad of cash. "If anyone asks, you never saw me. Got it?"

I climb out of the car, my legs wobbling slightly as I adjust to solid ground. The motel looms before me, a cheap, anonymous haven in a city built on illusions and false promises.

The clerk barely glances up as I approach the front desk, too engrossed in his phone to spare me more than a cursory once-over. "How many nights?" he drones, his voice flat and disinterested.

"Just one," I say, sliding a stack of bills across the counter. "And I need a room with a view of the Strip."

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to the cash and then back to my face. "A view, huh? Gonna cost you extra."

I lean forward, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm willing to pay for discretion. No names, no records, no questions asked."

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he weighs the risks and rewards. But in the end, the lure of easy money wins out, and he slides a key across the counter with a grunt of assent.

"Room 214. Checkout's at noon tomorrow. And I never saw you."

I nod, slipping the key into my purse. As I make my way up the narrow, dingy stairwell, my mind is already racing ahead to the next phase of my plan.

The room is small and shabby, the air stale with the ghosts of a thousand forgotten dreams. But it's clean enough, and the bed looks marginally more comfortable than the hard plastic chairs at the airport.

I drop the new bag I picked up on the floor, my fingers trembling slightly as I unzip it and pull out the clothes I bought at the adult store. The burgundy lingerie seems to glow in the dim light, the lace and satin a lurid contrast to the drab surroundings.

I strip off my plain, forgettable clothes, my skin prickling with goosebumps as I slide the delicate fabrics over my curves.

The bra is a bit too tight, the panties a bit too revealing, but that's all part of the disguise, isn't it? I'm not supposed to be comfortable, not supposed to feel like myself.

Next comes the wig, the long, platinum locks transforming me into someone else entirely. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman looking back at me.

She's a stranger, this Velvet Vixen. A creature of the night, all smoldering eyes and pouty lips and dangerous curves.

She's everything I'm not.

Everything I've never dared to be.

But tonight, she's my ticket to freedom. My chance to outsmart the hunter who's been dogging my every step, to slip through his grasp and disappear into the shadows.

I glance at the clock, my heart skipping a beat as I realize it's almost time for the auditions. I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves as I slip on a coat and head out into the neon-soaked night.

The Velvet Room is everything I expected and more, a garish temple of flesh and fantasy tucked away in the seedy underbelly of the city. The bouncer barely glances at my fake ID, too busy ogling my cleavage to notice the tremor in my voice as I give him my stage name.

"Cinnamon," I purr, the word feeling strange and slippery on my tongue. "I'm here for the auditions."

He nods, his eyes glazed with a mix of boredom and lust. "Head on back, sweetheart. Dressing room's to the left, stage is straight ahead. Knock 'em dead."

I force a smile, my stomach churning with nerves as I make my way through the dimly lit hallway. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and perfume, the thump of the bass vibrating through the walls like a pulse.

I find the dressing room, a cramped, dingy space filled with a dizzying array of sequins and feathers and glittering, barely-there costumes. The other girls barely spare me a glance as I slip off my coat, too focused on their own pre-show rituals to pay me any mind.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman staring back at me. The burgundy lingerie hugs my curves like a second skin, the fishnets and stilettos transforming my legs into long, lean lines of temptation. The wig falls in tousled waves around my shoulders, the platinum locks a stark contrast to my smoky, heavily lined eyes.

I look like a different person entirely.

Like someone Lucian will never see coming.

The audition itself is a blur, a haze of pulsing lights and pounding music and the roar of the crowd. I move on instinct, letting the beat guide my hips, my hands, my every sensual sway and dip.

I've never done anything like this before, never bared my body or my soul in such a raw, visceral way. But I'm not the same person I was before the hunt. Not by a long shot.

I am the hunter now, stalking my prey with every smoldering glance and teasing touch. I am the predator, the temptress, the siren luring men to their doom.

And when the music fades and the lights go down, when the manager pulls me aside with a leering grin and a nod of approval to let me know I've got the job, I feel a flicker of triumph, a spark of hope that maybe I can pull this off.

And somewhere out there, Lucian is searching for me, hunting me, his every instinct honed to the chase.

But this time, I'll be the one laying the trap.

This time, I'll be the one waiting in the shadows, ready to strike.

All I have to do now is wait for him to take the bait.

And when he does…

I'll be ready.