The Huntress Read online

  "Hey, there you are. I'm not the greatest cook, but I think this'll do."

  He put the bowl down on the table and gestured for her to sit. She did, nearly quivering with hunger. It had been a long time since their last meal.

  "It smells great." Picking up a spoon, she began shoveling the stew into her mouth as fast as she could.

  "Slow down! You'll choke."

  "You're not eating?" she managed around a mouthful of food.

  "I don't need to eat. I'm an android."

  Regan did choke then and he patted her on the back until she recovered. She watched him warily as he sat down across from her.

  "You look—pretty human."

  "Thanks. I work hard at it." He was trying to hide a smile. She stared at him for a minute longer, but her appetite overcame the novelty of an android and she dug back into the meal. Finishing the stew didn't take long and she swallowed her drink in several long gulps.

  "More?" he asked quietly.

  She was shaking her head when Mea stepped in.

  "Hey, sugar, glad you made it. Where's Terrik?"

  Regan opened her mouth to answer and was horrified to find that she couldn't. Mea's lovely face disappeared behind a curtain of unstoppable tears, and sobs shook her slim body.

  "Oh, hell." Sitting down next to her, Mea held her while she cried, rocking gently and making soothing noises. When the tears slowed down, she tried to explain.

  "He—he didn't wa-want me."

  "He said that?"

  "Yes. He said I was l-lucky he didn't sell my ass for transport."

  Mea was quiet for a long moment and Regan rested against her, comforted by the sound of the woman's heart in her ear and the warmth of her arms. She'd missed this kind of closeness. She missed her sister. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks, but they were quiet tears.

  "Warren, I think it's time for plan B."

  Regan looked up in time to see alarm spread over the android's face.

  "You said that was hypothetical! You said you just wanted to know if it was possible!"

  "I can't believe you bought that bullshit."

  Warren rested his head in his hands with a groan.

  "Trust me. Have a little faith." Mea sounded amused.

  Regan pulled back to see her face. The woman was grinning.

  "What's plan B?"

  "Plan B is where I save Terrik's ass whether he wants me to or not."

  "At our expense!" Warren said darkly and Mea snickered.

  "Don't be so negative. Where's your sense of adventure?"

  Warren lowered his head even further to thunk it gently on the table. "We are so screwed."

  Chapter 4

  "What the hell is wrong with you?"

  Terrik tensed, but didn't turn. He'd been waiting just outside the spaceport, watching for her ship to leave. Seems it was going to be awhile.

  "You here to bring me in, Hunter?"

  She ignored his question as easily as he'd ignored hers. Stepping into his line of vision, she folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

  "You broke that child's heart."

  He nearly winced, but managed to stifle it in time. "What's your point? She's safe, isn't she?"

  "What's my point?"

  Her eyes were practically shooting sparks and he was having trouble looking away. She stepped close enough for him to feel her heat and smell her scent, which distracted him enough not to mind her finger poking in his chest. "My point is that she did not deserve that kind of abuse after all she's been through, especially from you." Shaking her head, she moved away. "She worships you."

  He almost said, "She'll get over it," but couldn't for some reason. Shifting uncomfortably, he tried changing the subject. "You gonna dart me, shoot me down, what?"

  She gave an exasperated sigh and ran impatient fingers through her silky hair. "I'm not here to bring you in. I have a new proposal for you."

  He turned to face her slowly, ready for anything.

  "Be my partner."

  Except that.

  "What?" The woman was insane.

  "My partner. You have the right instincts to be a hunter—hell, you are a hunter; you just don't have sanction. Or did you have plans to resume your previous homicidal activities?" She arched a brow at him.

  He walked away. She matched his stride and walked along side him for a distance without speaking. Ignoring her turned out to be impossible, so he stopped, eyeing her like she was some kind of new species. For all he knew, she was.

  "So, how about it?"

  "You're crazy."

  She smiled up at him, damn green eyes twinkling. When was the last time a woman had looked at him like that—relaxed and without fear?

  "Probably. I can see you need time to think about it. Just don't take too long—Bragan, the other hunter, is about an hour away. He'll be on your trail almost immediately."

  He stared down at her. "I'm an escaped convict."

  "I know, but I'm not holding it against you." She winked and turned away, talking over her shoulder. "If you decide in favor, don't come directly to the ship. He'll follow your gen trace there."

  And then she was gone. Terrik shook his head slowly. Maybe they were breeding them insane these days.

  "You didn't bring him in?"

  Mea smiled gently at the girl, trying not to cringe at the devastation in those big eyes. "He wasn't ready." She noticed that Warren was looking deeply concerned. "Don't short circuit, old friend. It's still possible if Bragan gets here. Just messier, that's all."

  "That doesn't sound good."

  The girl and android looked at one another, their expressions equally anxious

  "Relax, you two. The game doesn't really start for another hour at least, unless he contacts us before. Warren, why don't you keep busy and make sure we haven't forgotten anything. And Regan…go eat something. You're way too thin."

  "I just ate."

  "Then how about dessert?"

  They made chocolate chip cookies and while Regan smiled gleefully through the chocolate, Mea trimmed her hair into some semblance of order. Quiet fell as they each concentrated on their tasks. Mea admitted to herself that while the actual trimming was a little frustrating—the girl's thick hair defied order—she enjoyed the contact. Besides, it helped pass the time. She hated the wait more than anything.

  Regan finally broke the silence. "Why aren't you afraid of him?"

  Mea paused for a second to decipher the cookie-covered mumble. "Who?"

  "Terrik." Regan tilted her head to look up at Mea over her shoulder. "You're not scared of him. Why not?"

  With amusement, Mea wiped cookie off of the girl's cheek. "Why should I be?"

  "Everybody else is."

  "You're not."

  Regan shrugged and picked up another cookie. "I am sometimes. And he never pulled a knife on me."

  Mea ran a thoughtful hand through the girl's dark brown hair, considering the question seriously. "The easy answer is that I'm a hunter. I come up against people like him every day."

  "What's the hard answer?" Nibbling on the edge of the cookie, Regan watched her with bottomless dark eyes, more shrewd than an eleven-year-old should be.

  Mea turned her around so that she could continue the trim—and so that she could answer without having to face the girl directly. "I've been watching you two over the past couple of days, getting to know you from a distance, so to speak. In Terrik I see so many things that are in me, good and bad. I can't be afraid of myself—why would I be afraid of him?"

  The girl was quiet so long Mea started to relax, thinking the conversation was over, but she wasn't so lucky.

  "Do you like him?"

  Mea froze, staring down at the top of Regan's head. How the hell was she supposed to answer that one? And did she even want to try? Those feelings were still raw and new even to her—expressing them out loud was as appealing as scratching fingernails across a sunburn. Before she could think of what to say, the door slid open and Warren leaned into the mess,
his eyes dark and expression sober.

  "Bragan is going through landing protocol right now."

  Mea tried not to look as relieved as she felt. "Well, that's our cue. Let's suit up. Regan, stay here and don't touch anything." She headed for the door, shaking an admonitory finger at the girl. "I mean it! When we get back, I'm not going to have time to go out searching for you."

  "You'll bring him back?"

  "Whether he wants to or not." Mea paused on the threshold, waiting.

  "I'll stay here. I promise."

  Flashing her an approving smile, Mea left the room and made her way to the docking bay. Warren was already there starting up the transport. She climbed aboard and settled into the copilot seat.

  "Ready?" she asked brightly.

  "No." But he was already maneuvering the transport out of the docking bay.

  She put a gentle hand on his arm. "It'll be okay."

  He didn't look the least bit mollified. He'd been her best friend and caretaker since she was a little girl. It was a painful contradiction for him—that he needed to protect her, but to do so, he'd have to hurt others. This he couldn't do without breaking his programming—in essence, killing himself. The strain showed more on his face this time than usual.

  "I just don't want you to get hurt," he said softly.

  Leaning over, she kissed his cheek. "You're a good friend."

  He smiled tightly but didn't answer. Mea sighed and activated the onboard genetic tracer, laying in a search pattern with Terrik's last known location. It took them about fifteen minutes to find him, longer than she'd anticipated. Frowning, she pointed to a landing location and stood to get ready. Shock rifle, grapple, maybe more darts… Pinching a gen tracer to the bridge of her nose, she looked at Warren.

  "Be ready."

  "Be careful."

  She grinned and activated her transceiver. "Always."

  Stepping out into the darkness, she activated the gen tracer and the world bloomed with color and light. The night vision caused the background to light up green, the heat sensor provided a rainbow of colors, and the gen trace was a trail of soft white footprints. Settling into a purposeful jog, Mea moved off after Terrik.

  It didn't take long to reach him; he was waiting to ambush her from between two buildings. Staying well out of range, she looked into the narrow space. His form was a reverse negative, glowing soft white.

  "Okay, maybe you don't know what a genetic tracer is." She took the one off of her wrist and tossed it to him. "Point it at the ground at your feet. You leave a trail wherever you go, no matter what." She waited for some response.

  He was still and silent.

  "Bragan has landed. Since his usual pattern is to do an ever-widening search, he will be on your trail very shortly. You were just recently at the spaceport, if you'll remember."

  Still no response.

  Gritting her teeth, she stepped closer, but stayed on the balls of her feet in readiness. "I can change your genetic trace. You can have a brand new life. Come with me!"

  "Why?"

  He sounded so damn calm, she wanted to knock him on his ass. Or kiss him senseless, whichever. Planting her hands on her hips, she took a deep breath. "I take it you don't believe me."

  "If you're going to hunt me, just do it. I don't get the game."

  "There is no game!"

  He didn't respond.

  "Fine, you want proof?" She turned her head slightly away. "Warren, Bragan's location, please."

  Warren readily provided the info.

  "Thanks. He's already on your trail, Terrik."

  She unslung the grapple from her shoulder and aimed at the building above. A muffled thump and it was winging away into the darkness, attaching to the roof. She tugged to make sure it was secure and hooked the end to her belt.

  "If we cut back across the buildings, we can get a visual on Bragan without him knowing we're there. Plus, it'll confuse your trail a bit." She looked at him and gestured impatiently. "Come on, time's running short."

  "I don't think so, lady."

  Pressing her lips together, she stared at him. "You trust me enough to give the child to me, but you won't climb a wire with me?" She tilted her head to one side teasingly. "I won't bite…today. Come on, Seth. Live a little."

  She was seconds away from just knocking him out when he finally moved forward. She pointed to the strap attached to the wire and he slipped his arm through it. Trying not to grin wickedly, she wrapped an arm around his waist and activated the grapple. Her grip on him and the force of the assent pressed their bodies together, but the trip was disappointingly short. They flipped themselves over the edge of the building together.

  "Well," Mea murmured breathlessly as she put the grapple back together with practiced hands, "that was fun."

  She didn't expect a response and didn't get one. He was also turned away so she couldn't read his expression.

  After securing the grapple over her shoulder, she trotted away across the flat roofs, Terrik matching her stride for stride. Perversely she sped up to a hard run and he still matched her easily. She suppressed a pleased grin and continued on, monitoring Bragan's location through Warren.

  When they were close, she stopped and settled herself at the edge of a building on her stomach. He did the same, breathing deeply, but not raggedly.

  In low, measured tones, she described the other hunter. "He's large, strong, and deadly quick for such a big man. He never stops, never gives up. The good news is he has no imagination. He won't think to look up unless you move and catch his attention. Very predictable. When he gets enraged, he's like a bull in a china shop—no finesse. I'm counting on that, actually. He's a bloodhound with a one-track mind."

  Warren murmured Bragan's location in her ear and she fell silent, resting her chin on folded hands and watching the ground below. The hunter turned a corner and came into view with long, distance-eating strides. He was wearing roughly the same kind of gear that Mea had on and he had a gun held loosely in one hand.

  With slow careful movements, Mea reached over and tapped the genetic tracer Terrik still held, pointing down at Bragan. He turned it and looked at the screen. Bragan was walking head down, directly over the top of Terrik's genetic trail, even to the point of making the same directional changes from side to side.

  When he was past them, Mea wiggled backwards and sat up. "Like I said, a bloodhound. You could probably take him on your own, but if you killed a hunter, there would be nowhere in the galaxy you could hide from the rest of us."

  He rose to a crouch and hooked the tracer around his wrist absently, still staring after the hunter.

  "I assume you'll want to stay free. Alive and in one piece."

  He turned his head to look at her, casually resting his arms on his knees. "What'd you have in mind?"

  Mea didn't fully trust his calm attitude. Rising to her feet, she dusted off quickly. He rose with her.

  "Warren, I need a sewer entrance close by. Under this building? Great. An exit?" She looked across the road to the building catty-corner to theirs with a curt nod, then started a swift search of the roof.

  "First we have to get you away from Bragan. He can trace you on the ground, but the trail ends if you're picked up by a transport. Problem is, he knows what my transport looks and sounds like. I don't want him to know, at least not for sure, that I have you."

  "So you want me in a sewer." He sounded dubious.

  "Bloodhound, remember? He'll follow your trail anywhere. So you go down through the sewer and come up to that building across the way. When he follows and is underground, the transport picks you up. He comes up, your trail is gone, he has no clue." Until I give him one, she thought but didn't say it out loud. That part of the plan was the only bit that made her uneasy. So many things could go wrong.

  After a minute, she found the hatch and hit the release. Part of the roof slid away to leave an opening with a ladder leading down into darkness.

  "Then what?" Terrik's voice was a soft rumble in he
r ear as he crouched next to her at the hole.

  "Then I hack into official records and switch your genetic trace with the jackass I darted the other night. I would need blood and tissue samples from you to back it up, but that's about it. You get a new life."

  She watched quietly as he stared down into the dark. Making an adjustment to her eyewear, she watched the gen trace glow disappear from him as well as the heat sensor. Just night vision was left, leaving a relatively clear view of his expression. As usual, he didn't give much away. His face was still and his eyes were dark pools of calm as though they were sitting down to lunch instead of discussing how best to save his life.

  "Why?"

  She didn't pretend to misunderstand what he was asking. They didn't have the time to dance around each other.

  "I want you for my partner. I have a list longer than I care to think about and I need someone to help shorten it."

  "That's bull. There's gotta be an easier way to get a partner."

  "Not with your instincts."

  "I'm a killer."

  "So am I. I just have a license to do it. Terrik, we are running out of time."

  "What if I don't want to be your partner?"

  She glared at him, clenching her jaw to restrain a curse and speaking with exaggerated patience. "Let's just get you out of here. We can discuss the fine print at a better time."

  Apparently it was the wrong thing to say.

  He shook his head and stood up. "I'll take my chances with the other hunter. At least I know what he wants. Tell the kid I didn't mean what I said." Then he walked away.

  Mea didn't let him get far before she knocked him on his ass. He rolled to his feet in a fluid motion and they circled each other. Swinging the shock rifle forward, she braced the butt on her hip and aimed the business end at his torso steadily. He stopped moving.

  "Sorry, darlin', I can't let you do that. I promised her I'd bring you in whether you wanted to or not." She smiled grimly into the cold glitter of his eyes. "You can go on your feet and aware or on your back and out cold. Make up your mind quick because I've run out of time and patience."