“Thanks for holding the bags for me. Have a good life. Bye, now.” I go to take the bags back, but he moves them out of my reach and then steps around me into my home, heading straight to the kitchen, where he sets them on the counter before he faces me.
“Our conversation isn’t done.” His tone brooks no argument.
“Your sister has a habit of interrupting our visits. Will she pop through my door any minute now?”
“I should hope not.”
“Good. Because if she enters my home without an invitation, I will stab her.” I beam at him, and his jaw clenches. “But we won’t have to worry about that from now on, will we? Because you and I are nothing outside of our working relationship, so please inform her of that so she stops following me.”
His phone rings, and he glances at the watch on his wrist.
“I can’t do this now. I have somewhere I need to be. But we arenotdone.” Soren steps in close, stopping just inchesfrom me. His presence fills the space, all heat and command. Then he reaches past me, his arm brushing mine as he grabs at something on the counter before pulling back. I frown, unsure what that was about, but he’s already turning for the door, so I let it go.
After he’s gone, I shut and lock it, my heart still pounding. When I return to the kitchen to put the groceries away, I spot the empty spot where my key should be.
That bastard took it.
TWENTY-EIGHT
SOREN
The hunt is always highly anticipatedby the members of the Forsaken. The bi-annual event gives us the opportunity to unleash our darker sides and let our demons out to play.
Tonight’s chosen prey is currently on his knees at the edge of the private forest owned by the Forsaken. His head is covered with a black sack, and his hands are tied behind his back. He’s sobbing, begging to be set free. He will be. He just isn’t aware of what will follow.
The prey isn’t intended to come out of the hunt alive.
Only one person has ever survived being our target—Reon’s wife, Lilith.
Reon approaches me, stopping at my side. He’s still upset and angry at me for what happened with his wife, but I guess I can’t blame him for that. Boston is leaning against his car, and we remain quiet as the other members stand in groups nearby.
I was late getting here tonight.
I’mneverlate.
Usually, the prey is off and running by now.
“Derrick,” I say the prey’s name, and everyone puts on their masks as I step toward the trembling man. When I remove thesack from his head, his green eyes are wild as he looks around.What does he think of the situation he’s found himself in?
His gaze finally lands on me, the only one without a mask, and his eyes are pleading before his mouth even moves. “Man, let me go. I can give you anything you want. Just… please, let me go.”
Boston comes to stand beside me, and he hands me a file folder. I dump the papers on the ground in front of Derrick, and he quickly scans them before looking back up at me.
“That’s not me. I was framed,” he insists.
A stupid person might believe him, but I am not a stupid person.
I stare down at him in silence, not feeling like arguing with him about his actions. He’s already been convicted of the crimes I just laid in front of him. The evidence is there in black and white, and he can’t hide from it.
After pulling out the knife from my back pocket, I slice through the ties that bind his hands. The second he’s free, he stands. I watch as he looks around, realizing his only means of escape is through the forest.
Some prey beg for their lives before they even get to that point, but he immediately turns and runs. Which is good—it means the fun can begin sooner.
Reon stands behind us with his weapon of choice, an axe. He is what you would call a master of the hunts. If he’s participating, he usually wins.
But not this time.
This time, I have pent-up frustration I need to take out.
