Chapter Three
THREE
HUNTER
“I’m tired of this,” Hunter announced on the phone, looking out the windows toward the grayish-blue water glimpsed through the trees that filled his compound.
“I would imagine breaking up and getting back together with Clover three times is tiring, but you insisted on dating an esprit,” his twin, Archer, responded, sounding distracted.
“I’m not talking about Clover,” he answered, his lips twisting at the memory of things she accused him of when she last took her leave. He might not be a perfect man—he was well aware he was anything but that—but he wasn’t horrible, either.
Not since his inner demon side had been tamed.
“Then who? No, it’s just Hunter, flower. Go back to sleep.”
Archer was clearly talking to his mate, Thaisa. Hunter dwelled on that sourly for a few seconds until Archer finished. “Is she still having issues?”
The soft sound of a door closing made it clear Archer had slipped away. “Yes. She’d been with her grandmother since she was a little girl, so she’s taken the loss hard.”
“I thought Gran’s passing was peaceful?” Hunter asked, feeling a pang of guilt. He’d offered his condolences to Thaisa after the loss of her beloved grandmother, but wasn’t aware that even though it had been a month, she was still suffering.
“It was, and I’m glad we had her with us for the last two years, since it gave Thaisa more time with her than we could expect with Gran being at the memory care facility, but it’s still hard for her. Who are you talking about if not your former esprit?”
“No one in particular. It’s just a general sense of being annoyed with everything.
We were meant to take care of the sire, and we didn’t.
” Hunter stepped out onto the balcony that ran the length of the lodge.
“Now we have to trust that Yrian did the job correctly, and Xavier can’t come back to torment us. ”
“I’ve told you that you’re welcome to go to the Duat without me, if you want to verify that there’s no way that can happen,” Archer told him. “I can’t leave Thaisa while she’s still grieving this hard.”
Hunter gave a little roll of his eyes. “I like Thaisa. You know I do. She’s charming and smart, and I know she makes you happy. But are you saying that you seriously can’t be parted with her for a couple of days because she’s sad?”
“Spoken like a man without a mate, or even a girlfriend,” Archer said with what Hunter thought of as a waspish tone.
He bristled at the words. “I may not have a mate like you, but the day will never dawn when I’m at the beck and call of a woman. I’ve never allowed myself to be treated that way, and I never will. I’m not a one-woman man, like you. Women get boring after a few weeks, and then it’s time to move on.”
Archer made what sounded like a half choke, half laugh. “The urge to explain how a healthy relationship works is strong, but I don’t have the time for that now, not with trying to find Deus while supporting Thaisa. I will say that you’re setting yourself up for one hell of a fall.”
“What do you mean?” Hunter frowned as the moon crested one of the tall trees, its light turning the shadows an odd silvery black.
“One day you’re going to meet a woman who makes you take back every word you’ve just spoken. I know, because it happened to me.” Archer was laughing now, a fact that rubbed along his skin like a burr.
He wiggled his shoulders, his mind automatically returning to the woman he’d met a few months before, a long-legged redheaded reaper.
He’d seen Mabel for only a short time, most of which was spent keeping her safe while she and the others conducted a jailbreak, but it was enough to stir his interest.
“Deus is another thing I’m tired of,” he said by way of ignoring his brother’s prediction.
“Don’t want to address the issue of the dancer?”
Hunter froze for a few seconds. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? How do you know about Mabel?”
“That’s her name, is it?” Archer definitely sounded amused, damn him.
“How do you know about her?” Hunter repeated.
“Thaisa said that the former Sovereign had mentioned her to Aisling Grey, who passed it on to the mates’ chat group. Evidently, they have been discussing whether or not the dancer would be a good fit for you.”
Hunter was simultaneously intrigued and outraged by the idea that the wyverns’ mates had decided to play matchmaker for him. “I don’t need any help finding a woman,” was what he said, although he thought a good deal more.
“Keeping them is where the challenge lays, eh?” Archer asked, still obviously entertained by his discomfort.
“I’m tired of the accusations that it was my fault Deus’s mate brought an entire battalion of chaos dragons and demons down on Drake’s house and subsequently freed him,” Hunter answered, refusing to be drawn into a conversation about the lamentable state of his romantic life.
“And I’ve told you three times now that no one blames you for that.
It just happened to be you heading the watch that day.
None of the wyverns believe the fault lies with you.
No one short of the two of us together could have stood up to the attack, let alone prevented it.
So stop beating yourself up for that. If you want to assuage your guilt to the weyr, go help Bastian and his blue dragons find where Deus has gone to ground. ”
“The weyr is the third thing I’m tired of,” Hunter snapped, feeling attacked on all fronts of his life.
“Why is it taking Yrian so long to modify it so we can join? I tell you, Archer, I don’t think they want to make the change to allow in tribes.
They’re blowing smoke up our arses just so we’ll help them out with Deus. ”
The silence that followed that statement was almost pregnant with unspoken thoughts.
Hunter sighed loudly. “Yes, I’m aware of how much of an idiot I sound.”
“Good, because I didn’t want to have to say it.” Archer’s voice grew somber. “You’ve seen the messages from the wyverns’ group—Yrian and the vampire thane are both searching for the blood moon. Once they have that, Yrian can reform the weyr to include us.”
He was about to answer, but his phone vibrated, indicating another call. A blonde woman’s face popped up on his screen. “I could debate the point that they are looking hard, but I have another call. My love to Thaisa.”
Archer murmured he’d pass that along, and hung up, allowing the dulcet tones of Sally the former Sovereign to fill his ears.
“Hunter Vehar, you handsome devil. How are you now that Clover has severed ties with you once and for all?”
“Hello, Sally,” he answered, his spirits—already in the doldrums—sinking ever further into a morass of self-pity and frustration.
“Did you call just to rub salt in the wound of Clover abandoning me in my time of need—and I speak here of my élan vital, not my personal life—or have you found another esprit for me?”
“Darlin’,” she said with a laugh that offended him on many levels, “you know I’m no longer Sovereign of the Court of Divine Blood, and thus, I am limited in my abilities to hunt for an esprit who hasn’t heard all about you from Clover.
It’s Sasha who facilitates these things, and sadly, the fact that you infuriated her sister with your gallivanting ways might make things more difficult in convincing anyone to power up your sword. ”
He sighed loudly, feeling he was due such a dramatic action.
“You can save the lectures about what Clover called my player personality. I’ve heard what she’s telling everyone.
I just thought you might know of someone else who is interested in the job of esprit.
I’m at a significant disadvantage to not have one, especially when Bree, Archer’s esprit, is quite happy with him, while my élan vital is unpowered. ”
“As I said, Sasha controls such things,” Sally said, sounding somewhat distant.
He struggled with a response that wasn’t profane, oozing self-pity, or morose, well aware that without his esprit he was severely limited in abilities when it came to tackling Deus and his Chaos Tribe.
Before he could beg Sally for help, she continued.
“I wish I could do something, but I’m currently tied up with helping a friend with a problem.” She was silent for a moment, and Hunter wondered if she was coming to him for help. He’d have to disappoint her, since he couldn’t even take care of his own issues.
Still, it was Sally, and she had to have a reason to call him. “What sort of a problem?” he asked. “I’m not up to much without a fully powered sword, but if there’s something I can do—”
“Well, now, that’s an idea,” Sally said. He could hear the smile in her voice. “As you mentioned it, I suppose I could see my way clear to speaking with Sasha if you were to help me with my friend Dawn’s situation.”
He straightened up, narrowing his gaze on the shadow of a tall pine tree, hope instantly raising his spirits. “You’re willing to make a deal?”
“Of course I am. For one, I’m not unreasonable, and it’s clear you’re going to need a working élan vital in the very near future.
And for another, I know how much you dragons like to negotiate.
The situation couldn’t be easier—you need someone to plead your case to Sasha, and my friend needs help escaping an underworld. ”
“There’s another person needing to be broken out?” he asked, wondering how many people he was going to have to help rescue just to get an esprit.
“Yes, but Dawn is in the Eleventh Hour, not the Thirteenth like Desi. How about it? Are you up to rescuing a woman who could use a break in the mortal realm?”
“I can try, but I make no promises about how effective I’ll be with most of my power absent,” he warned.
“That’s a valid point,” she said thoughtfully. “Especially since the Eleventh Hour is a bit tricky to get out of, even for the living. I’ll send you someone to help.”
“Someone? An esprit?” he asked, feeling that he was missing something she was dancing around, but not quite saying.