The Hunter (A Dark, Erotic Romance) Page 13

  “You saved me again,” Kallie whispered.

  “Sshh. Just rest. We can talk tomorrow.”

  They fell asleep together. It was the first time demons did not torment her. When she woke again, light streamed through the window. Donovan lay at her side sleeping. The instant she moved he woke up.

  “Kallie?”

  “Could I have some water or broth?” Kallie’s voice was weak and shaky.

  “Of course, you can. I’ll put some jerky on to boil for broth.” Donovan stood up and stoked the fire. A pot filled with water and meat hung from a metal hook built into the fireplace. He rubbed a hand over his whisker-covered face before pouring a mug of water.

  Kallie winced, eyes screwed shut, when he put an arm beneath her shoulders. He eased her upright before pressing the cup against her mouth. She drank ravenously, more sucking the water into her mouth than drinking. Her mouth no longer felt like a parched, dry desert.

  “Thank you.” She lay with her eyes closed for a few moments before opening them. Donovan sat beside her, his grey eyes tracing over her face. It made her heart beat faster.

  “You stopped breathing,” he muttered. “It was too close.”

  “You gave me your breath and brought me back.”

  Kallie could sense the change in Donovan’s mood. Instead of the relaxed, concerned man who promised to save her, he tensed, frowned, and withdrew within himself.

  Donovan rejected her. Just like her father, like those who suspected she was a witch. A knife of pain speared through her heart. It was worse than the wound in her shoulder.

  “It’s a part of CPR,” he replied with a shrug. As if it meant nothing. To her it was much more than just CPR. “I’ll be back, Kallie. Outhouse. The broth should be ready by then.”

  Kallie closed her eyes to avoid what she saw in his eyes. Donovan wanted space between them. She waited until he left the cabin before struggling to sit up. Putting on her jeans and shoes with the use of only one arm and hand took forever it seemed. She pulled the severed edges of the t-shirt around her body.

  By the time Donovan returned she sat in a chair by the fireplace, pale and trembling.

  “Kallie, what are you doing up?” He was genuinely surprised, eyebrows raised and eyes wide as he stood in front of her.

  “It’s time I head out,” she murmured, fingers coming through the tangle of curls. “If you don’t mind, though, I’d appreciate the broth before I go.”

  Donovan’s mouth opened and closed several times. Perhaps he wanted to say something. She would never know, nor did she care. Cutting off the emotional connection with others helped her get through things. It was how she coped with the twisted hatred and abuse her father heaped on her as a child.

  He stood up without speaking and returned with a mug. He carefully poured the broth into the mug and handed it to her. “Be careful. It’s hot.”

  Kallie inhaled the fragrant aroma before blowing on the steaming broth to cool it. She sipped slowly until the cup was empty. Donovan stood silently observing her.

  “I should be going. It’ll take longer to find and make shelter without the use of my left arm.” She stood up, looked at the floor, and sighed. Donovan took the cup without speaking. “Thank you for helping me.”

  Strength drained from her with each step she took toward the door. Donovan’s silence hurt worse than the injury. She leaned against the cabin, trembling, holding back the tears that stung her eyelids. Kallie took a deep breath and began walking.

  Luca appeared on the trail before she made it a dozen feet from the cabin. He frowned and muttered something beneath his breath. “Nyssa said you were leaving. What the hell is going on here?”

  The intensity of Luca’s displeasure was palpable. Kallie backed away, uncertain what the giant of a man might do. He sighed before holding a hand up, palm facing outwards.

  “I’m not upset with you, Kallie. Let me take you back to Donovan’s before you fall down.” Luca picked her up without waiting for permission. Kallie felt darkness swirling around her an instant before he picked her up.

  The cabin door banged open. Luca strode into the cabin, walked to the bed, and placed Kallie on top of the blanket. He turned toward Donovan who still stood by the fireplace. “What’s going on here, Donovan? Nyssa said Kallie is leaving and it’s too soon.”

  “Kallie said she wanted to go,” Donovan replied with a shrug. “I can’t stop her from leaving.”

  “You can’t stop her? You shot her yesterday, removed an arrow from her chest, and today you’re going to let her walk out the door? What the hell is wrong with you?” Luca roared. He took a step toward Donovan. “We may have treated people that way when we fought with the resistance, but we damned sure don’t treat people that way now. She’s done nothing wrong. If anything, old friend, you owe her.”

  “I have no position of authority over her, Luca. Don’t yell at me in my home. She’s free to do as she pleases,” Donovan replied. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

  “It isn’t an argument. It’s trying to get you to do the right thing. Didn’t our conversation yesterday break through that thick skull of yours? We don’t treat people that way now. Especially not our women.” Luca took another step toward Donovan. He reached out and clasped the man’s shoulder. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did with Nyssa.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I... she’s nothing to me.” Donovan turned toward the fire when he spoke. His voice was low and ragged.

  Kallie eased off the bed. The argument made her uncomfortable. Reminders from the past. The shouted curses when her father beat her. You witch! You’ll go straight to hell for messing with dark magic. I wish you’d never been born!

  She’s nothing to me. The words hurt more than she expected. Donovan’s mercurial moods added insult to injury. One moment he begged her not to leave. In the next instant, he seemed to care less if she lived or died. He’s no different than my father.

  She slipped out the door without another word. The men could fight this one out on their own.

  *****

  Donovan

  His anger peaked when Luca reminded him about the mistakes he made with Nyssa. He turned away, toward the fire, fighting the urge to punch Luca. That would be a definite mistake.

  Luca stepped close enough that Donovan felt his breath against his neck when he spoke. “Look, Donovan, I get that you’ve made mistakes in the past. You and I both have. Mallory left you without a word. You can’t judge Kallie by Mallory’s mistakes. Nyssa saw you and Kallie…”

  “I don’t want to hear what Nyssa saw! Kallie is nothing to me. And I don’t want to hear Mallory’s name again!” his voice was a deafening roar. Reminders of his past were too painful. He would not, could not, stand here and listen to it.

  He walked past Luca out the cabin’s door. Get. Away. Anywhere but here. Feet pounding along the trail, he ran. He knew avoiding Luca was not the answer. Coward. Heartless. Bastard.

  Less than fifty feet from the cabin Donovan saw Kallie lying on the ground, crimson spreading on the back of the shirt. Without a second thought, he ran to her, knelt at her side and lifted her into his arms. The past did not matter. Mallory did not matter. Only Kallie mattered.

  Luca sat in a chair at the fireplace when he returned with Kallie. “She must have left while we were arguing. She’s bleeding again. Please, send Nyssa to help.”

  Time slowed to a surreal pace. Donovan stripped the dressings away and inspected the wounds. He sighed with relief to find only the exit wound on Kallie’s shoulder bleeding. He applied direct pressure with a wad of gauze against the wound to stop the bleeding.

  Nyssa appeared at his side. “Luca said you need my help. What can I do?”

  “Tell me what you’ve seen, Nyssa. Why is she here?”

  Nyssa sighed, eyes fixed on Kallie who lay on her stomach on the bed. “When you look at Kallie, see her, not someone else. She’s a healer just like you. The only difference is that she has knowledge of herbs and p
lants that can be used for medicine.”

  Donovan grunted at Nyssa’s words while turning the words over in his head. A healer with knowledge of the medicinal properties of herbs and plants. Given that only the rich and powerful had access to medicine now, he knew the benefit of the knowledge. The fact did not bother him as much as the attraction he felt for Kallie.

  At one time Donovan swore he knew what love was. He met and fell hard for Mallory during his time with the resistance. She was everything he thought he needed and wanted in a mate. Tall. Blonde. Blue eyes. Curvy. Intelligent.

  The day before their wedding Mallory simply disappeared. Without a word. He found out later that she left with another resistance fighter who went AWOL. The exquisite agony of that day took months to fade.

  He swore to never trust another woman. Ever. Kallie pulled and tugged at his heart. A heart he blocked off from everyone. Trusting her meant opening his heart. And that was something he was unwilling to do.

  Now the decision was made, everything would be much easier. At least that’s what he told himself. So why was it that when Kallie lay on her back, pale as death, that he cared?

  Nyssa’s glance in his direction broke the reverie. “The bleeding stopped. I’ll go back to the cabin and bring food when it’s ready. Would you like coffee?”

  “Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Nyssa,” he muttered.

  Nyssa turned at the door, brows drawn together as she studied Donovan. “Think things through before you act, Donovan. The wrong decision will tear you apart. That’s all I’m going to say.” She turned with the graceful dignity that seemed an innate part of her and left the cabin.

  The wrong decision will tear you apart.

  The words burrowed inside his mind, forcing him to think about the consequences of Kallie leaving. What he saw was agonizing. Confused, Donovan collapsed in a chair by the bed. He covered his face with his hands and allowed a single tear to slip free.

  Chapter 19

  Kallie

  Perspiration beaded on her face, intensifying as the fire within her body roared out of control. Kallie could only twist and turn, kicking at the blanket caught around her body. She knew that somehow someone had thrust her into an oven, intent on cooking her whole.

  An angel appeared overhead, smiling, cool hands gently stroking her face with something cold and wet. Without question she knew she had died, perhaps going to heaven as the old preacher in town often confirmed from his pulpit each Sunday.

  Floating, cascading down from the heavens, she crossed paths with the devil. Angry eyes the same shade as a storm cloud. Teeth snapping, hands snatching at her clothing. He forced the blanket over her. Shivers came, one after the other.

  “Stop fighting!” he growled.

  Kallie wept, whimpering as a child separated from their mother. Darkness came and she slept.

  A giant appeared. A massive hand reaching out to snatch her, feed her to his children. A keening howl of terror burst free.

  The angel appeared again. A cold, wet thing began its journey across her brow, to a cheek, along her neck and then repeated its path.

  “I don’t like devils and giants,” she whispered.

  “Luca won’t hurt you,” the angel replied. Cold water filled her mouth. She drank hungrily, choked, and coughed until pain ripped one side of her chest open.

  The devil came again. Stormy grey eyes set upon her. Claws dug at the agony until she wept. “It’s infected. I don’t know what to do.”

  Devils were intelligent. At least that’s what she learned from the preacher. Omnipotent. Wicked. Seeking only to destroy. Wondering if the devil would listen, she whispered when he loomed closer. “White oak bark.”

  “What?” His face was not so angry now. She wondered if he forgot to take her to hell for being a witch. That’s what her father said would happen when she died.

  “White oak bark. Boiled in water.” A cough wracked her body. Foul tasting phlegm filled her mouth. “Wet cloths. Willow bark tea.”

  “Will it help?” the devil murmured.

  Energy depleted, mouth cracked and dry, Kallie could only nod. The angel loomed overhead, cradling a cherub in her arms. Purgatory. That’s where she was. Only angels, cherubs, devils, and giants could live together in purgatory. Peaceful darkness overwhelmed her again.

  The bitter heat of willow tea soothed her throat. She drank it down without questioning the devil who pressed the cup to her lips.

  A scalding cloth against her chest and back brought a cry of pain. “It’s white oak bark,” the devil chastised. Kallie closed her eyes. There was no effective argument she could have with him. Always angry, always vengeful.

  Hot tea followed scalding cloths. It went on forever in circles it seemed. First one, then the other. On and on.

  When she woke next the fever was gone. Kallie knew she lay in Donovan’s bed in his cabin. The cabin was empty. A bucket of water sat on the table near the fireplace. If only she could reach it.

  She was naked and did not care. There was no one to see as she struggled to her feet, swaying as a reed in the wind. She managed to make it to the table by holding onto two chairs sitting near the bed.

  Most of the first dipper of water poured from the sides of her mouth. She was too eager to sate the overwhelming thirst and failed to take care. The next dipper of water filled her stomach. Kallie drank a third before pausing. One hand clung to the table to support the weight of her body. Knees knocked together and her legs threatened to give way.

  She took a deep breath, reached for the dipper and more water. The door opened. She did not care, did not look. It was only when Donovan’s muttered curse preceded his arms lifting her that she paused.

  “Please, water,” she whispered in a hoarse voice. She met his eyes and sighed with relief to see the anger from before was gone.

  “Bed first then I’ll give you water,” Donovan said. “You’ve not had anything to eat in days now. You’re as weak as a kitten, Kallie.”

  “Can I sit up?” she asked when he placed her in bed.

  “Of course, you can.” A few folded blankets behind her back held her upright. Donovan tucked the blanket over her, ensuring it covered her bare breasts.

  One final dipper of water eased her thirst. It was then she became aware of the gnawing, overwhelming hunger in her gut. “Can I have something to eat?”

  Donovan grinned at her words. “Your fever broke last night. I thought you might want food. Would venison stew be alright?”

  “Yes,” Kallie murmured. She eyed Donovan’s back with passing interest. “Where are your horns?”

  Laughter burst from him at her question. He threw his head back and laughed long and loud. “Horns? What makes you ask that question, Kallie?” He returned with a bowl of stew and a spoon. “Go slow. Too much might make you throw up.”

  “You were a devil. And there was an angel and a giant here.” Kallie took a bite of stew. She closed her eyes and moaned with the sheer joy of tasting food. The first bite was quickly followed by a second, then a third.

  Donovan sat on the bed beside her. His eyes traced over her face. “You had a high fever, Kallie. You hallucinated quite a bit.”

  “Hallucinations? Please tell me I didn’t hurt someone.” The spoon fell from her hand. She couldn’t bear the thought of hurting anyone.

  “No, you didn’t hurt anyone,” Donovan assured her. “Do you think you could eat the rest of your stew?”

  Of course, she could eat the rest of the stew and probably a few more bowls. Donovan sat silently while she finished off the food. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. “How long have I been here?”

  “Nearly two weeks, Kallie. You’ve been close to death.” He glanced at the wall, swallowing hard. He smiled faintly when his gaze returned to her.

  “Thank you for taking care of me, Donovan. I don’t deserve your kindness.”

  Donovan frowned, brows drawn together, and grunted. It was the only answer she would receive.

  *****


  Donovan

  Kallie grew stronger over the next few days. She ate anything he offered and drank water until he was certain she would burst.

  His gaze fell on her ribs when he changed the bandages. Each rib was clearly delineated, and her hip bones protruded. Two weeks without food while on death’s door had taken a toll. It made him sick to think how close she came to dying. Two weeks gave a man a long time to think about life without someone as special as Kallie in it. He couldn’t bear the thought.

  The next day Kallie cajoled and begged for a bath until he could no longer refuse. “Just a sponge bath. We can wash your hair first and go from there, okay?” Emerald eyes sparkled at his words.

  That night while she lay sleeping, he adjusted the swollen, aching length of his cock for the hundredth time since she had fallen asleep. Unable to bear it any longer, he released the zipper of his pants and sighed with relief when his cock sprang free.

  His gut clenched at the first stroke, eyes resting on the peaceful face only a few feet away. He bit back a groan, fist moving faster. The thought of her under him while his cock spread her wide made his balls tighten. It didn’t take long before he came so hard he nearly blacked out.

  Donovan knew this wouldn’t be enough. Only Kallie could ease the ache in his groin.

  After breakfast the next day Kallie reminded him of the bath. “You promised,” she smiled.

  “It will take time for water to heat, Kallie. First your hair and then the rest of you if you’re strong enough.”

  She sighed when his fingers rubbed soap through the auburn curls. He massaged her scalp. Her moan made his cock twitch. Afterwards he combed through the curls with his fingers. Kallie wrapped the uninjured arm around his neck. The hug was followed by a kiss on his whiskered cheek.

  He knew he was in trouble. Although he had made sure she wore one of his shirts over the past few days, each glimpse of those long legs were nearly his undoing. When the water for her bath was steaming, he asked if she needed help. And hoped fervently she would say no. But she said yes without question, innocently unaware the wolf was in the lamb’s den.