Chapter Five
FIVE
HUNTER
The dancer was least stealthy person he’d ever seen. Not only was she not taking the slightest care to muffle the sounds of her progress as she moved from building to building on her approach to the lodge, but she seemed to be muttering the same couple of phrases under her breath as she skulked.
“I don’t know who told you that sticking to the perimeters of buildings will keep you from being seen, but either they are stupid or don’t understand how security cameras work,” he said after following her for a few minutes.
She squawked at the sound of his voice, rising almost a meter in the air as she twisted around, her smoky-gray eyes huge. “Wha—who—holy shitsnacks. Hunter?”
“In the flesh,” he said, making his best bow, unable to keep from running his gaze down her body.
Although they were in the shadows, it appeared she was clad much as he’d seen previously, in black leggings and an oversized shirt.
He itched to get her inside, where the light would allow him to admire her legs.
With that thought in mind, he added, “You could have come straight to the lodge, you know. I’ve been expecting you. ”
“You have?” Several expressions passed over her face. He wished he could see better, but he thought she was thrown by his comment, and he wondered why that was. “Er ... you’re not angry?”
“Not in the least,” he said, gesturing toward the lodge. She didn’t seem to want to go, but a hand on her back giving her a gentle push got her moving. “In fact, I’m grateful you’re available to do the job. It saves me from putting trust in someone unknown.”
“OK,” she said, stopping at the bottom of the steps to the main hall of the lodge. Solar lights lined the pathways and the edges of the flower beds, casting a golden glow that was enough for him to see the confusion on her oval face. “I think we’re talking at cross-purposes.”
“Why would you think that?” he asked, badly wanting to get her inside. He had a suspicious feeling she was on the verge of bolting, and he very much wished to avoid that.
“Because not many people—dragons—would be happy to see someone sent to steal their sword. Oh, merciful goddess ... the sword. Papi was talking about your special dragon hunter sword, wasn’t he?
That’s what he wants me to take?” She rubbed her forehead.
“He must want me dead and is too cowardly to do it himself.”
Hunter stared at her. “You want my élan vital? Why? And who is Papi? Is he your lover? Does he have some hold over you that forces you to do his bidding? One of the wyverns has a mate who was in that situation. He told me how unfeasible it was. I do not know of a demon lord named Papi, but I admit that I’ve had little to do with Abaddon, despite my nature being what it is.
Was. I am no longer filled solely with dark power.
Regardless, I have sufficient that I will be able to attend to your lover. ”
She stared at him like he had a behemoth dancing on his head. “Do you say things simply because you like to hear yourself talk? I get it—your accent is very ... alluring ... but man alive, that was the oddest stream of consciousness I’ve heard in a long time.”
“First,” he said, taking her arm and herding her up the stairs to the lodge, quickly pivoting her around the handful of tribe members who were inside, heading straight for the wing containing his quarters, “I do not have an accent, although I appreciate the ‘alluring’ comment.”
“Dude,” she said, not resisting when he ushered her into his personal library. “You sound very Irish, so yes, you have an accent. And when you pair it with looking like you do ... I’m sure I don’t need to inflate your ego, so I’ll stop talking now.”
“Thank you for the compliments,” he said with a feeling of warmth starting in his chest and spreading outward.
“Allow me to reciprocate: I like your face. Your legs are spectacular. They’re very long, and full and lush, and the fact that your calves could probably beat the shite out of mine aside, they inspire nothing but admiration and lust in me.
Sadly, I can’t discuss the rest of you because your shirt is hiding things, but I live in hope that the rest of you matches your legs. ”
He was amused when she ran her hands down her oversized shirt, looking both annoyed and pleased at his comments.
“If you’re hinting that I’m chunky, then yes, I am.
And I have no problem with the fact that I’m bigger than the rest of my company.
My body is happy this way, and yes, I don’t have the normal body type for a ballerina, which is why I’ll most likely never move past soloist into principal dancer, but that’s OK.
And for the record, it’s rude to comment on people’s body types. ”
“You commented on me, first,” he pointed out. “I wasn’t disparaging you or your body, you know. Quite the opposite. I’d very much like to take you to bed, where I could stroke your luscious legs from your ankles up to your pleasure zone.”
She blinked at him, her lips twitching as she fought a smile.
“Wow. Pleasure zone. I haven’t heard genitalia described like that outside of nineteen seventies erotica.
And why are you being so nice to me? I thought dragons were super protective of their stuff, yet you’re ogling my calves and not batting an eyelash that I’m here to steal your fancy sword. ”
“élan vital,” he corrected, waving her toward a couch.
He nodded to the wall, where the sword sat in pride of place amongst a collection of his favorite weapons.
“But I agree that we seem to be having two different conversations. Yours appears to concern some demon lord named Papi who has you under his thrall, and has charged you with stealing my élan vital, while I was told you would arrive here solely with the purpose of aiding me help a spirit escape her Hour.”
She bristled at the thrall comment, but sat on the couch, sadly tucking her legs underneath her so he couldn’t admire them as he desired.
“Papi is a broker at the Midnight Bazaar, not a demon lord, and I most certainly am not under his thrall. I’m a reaper.
We can’t be enthralled. Who told you I was here to do a reaper job?
I haven’t been contacted by anyone about—” She stopped suddenly, her eyes wide.
“What is it?” he couldn’t help but ask, facing her as he sat on the solid plank of oak that served as a coffee table.
“Someone tried to book me with the Akashic League yesterday,” she answered, her gaze on her hands before she looked up, her expression filled with confusion and concern.
Immediately, a protective emotion rose inside him that extended to her, something untoward, since he felt that way about only his tribe members.
Certainly not a woman he’d seen for less time than it would take to walk the perimeter of his compound.
“And?” he asked when she hesitated.
Her gaze skittered away for a few seconds before reluctantly returning. She looked as if she was fighting an inner battle, and he wondered if she’d lie to protect herself.
Finally, she met his gaze and said, “Papi told me it was a dragon who wanted your sword. And while I don’t know for a fact that the his client and the guy who called me were the same person, it would be a huge coincidence if was anyone other than the one who tried to hire me earlier.
Do you happen to know of a dragon named Amadeus?
He tried to hire me to get his father out of the same Hour that we were at—”
He was on his feet, swearing as he stormed around the library, his fingers automatically drawing spells that he wanted badly to cast on Deus.
“His father? No, not his father. As if it’s not annoying enough Deus has taken a mate and has the weyr thrown into panic over the protection of their members, now he wants to take my élan vital in order to get Bael out.
I won’t have it, do you hear me? Much though I’d like to cut down Bael for the devastation he’s rained upon the dragonkin, he’s better left where he is. Tell me exactly what Deus said to you.”
“There wasn’t much, to be honest. He asked if I could get his father out of the Thirteenth Hour, and I told him I was just a reaper, and couldn’t do that.” Her gaze met his again, this time her gray eyes somber. “He said he heard I got Desislav out, and that I could the same for him.”
“You refused,” Hunter said, nodding as he thought over this latest evidence that Deus was about to become a very real problem for the dragonkin, dismissing the issue of the broker selling his the élan vital to Deus since there was no way he could benefit from it.
“Of course I did. I’d just returned from being grilled by Dr. Kostich about my role in Desi’s release. Luckily, Sally was there, and deflected and lied enough to throw him off our scent. There’s no way I’d agree to releasing anyone from that Hour again, even if I could manage it.”
Hunter asked the question that was uppermost in his mind. “What did the broker say about Deus?”
She shrugged. “Not much beyond he has a dragon client waiting for your sword. Evidently, Papi has sent some others after it—” She stopped abruptly, clearly realizing to whom she was speaking.
He strode across the room to the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the garden that wrapped around two sides of the lodge. “There has been a sudden influx of people trespassing of late. I assume those are the people your broker lover sent.”
“He’s not my lover,” she answered with a little eye roll, delighting him that she’d fallen straight into his trap.
“No? You have another?”
“I have no one. No partner, that is.” She slid him a look out of the corners of her eyes. “Do you have one?”