Page 49 of Bounty Hunter

What if he was being honest? What if hecouldget us out in five minutes? It’s hot in here, I’m sweating, and it seems like it’s harder to breathe by the minute, but I acknowledge that that could just be my anxiety. I bite my lower lip indecisively. I’m not sure where these people are taking us. Maybe they’re going to deliver us to the nearest law office, and it’ll all be sorted out without violence, but I doubt it.

“Ask me anything, and I’ll answer truthfully, and in return, you remove the cuff.”

Ikar and his bargains. I roll my eyes. “I don’t need to know anything more about you.” Doesn’t mean I don’twantto, but I force myself to stay professional.

“You asked me what type of magic I have. I’ll tell you.”

“I already know. You’re a Hunter.” Did he forget I’ve spent most of my last several years with Hunters? I guessed from the start.

“You’ve noticed the scar through my eyebrow, I’ll tell you how I got it,” he continues. “I’ll get you out of here. Isn’t that what you want?”

I give a sharp laugh. Ihavewondered about that scar. I wonder more about the large one on his thigh, but there’s no way in blazes I’m asking about that one.

“The scar, right. Let me guess. You were fighting a deathstalker, and right before you delivered the killing blow it took one last swipe with one of its venomous claws and forever marked the handsome face of Ikar the criminal?”

“That’s the second time you’ve said I’m handsome.”

There’s no way to come back from twice admitting my attraction. “Don’t overthink it.” My cheeks heat, and I find I’m actually grateful for the darkness provided by the prison coffin. I can practicallyfeelhis satisfied smirk. He’s insufferable. An arrest has never gone so wrong as this.

“You don’t want to know more about me. Fine. But my initial offer still stands.”

But he doesn’t know how wrong he is. I care much more than I should about him, and I want to know everything he will tell me. And I know exactly what offer he’s talking about. The one where I remove a cuff from a Class A criminal, then start workingfor himinstead of the law. It’s never seemed as enticing as it does now. I feel my firm grip on the rule book weaken, an obvious sign I shouldn’t make any sort of deal with him. Maybe I shouldn’t blame it on the situation, but the heat in this wagon is unbearable. My clothing is plastered to my body, my hair a damp mess. I’m dirty, and maybe I’moverthinking it, but it seems like it’s getting even harder to breathe.

“Promise me you won’t take off,” I say, a flash of guilt is followed by hope that maybe he really can break us out. Even if it takes him thirty minutes, I’ll be happy. I can have reasonable expectations.

His voice is deep and low and completely serious. “I promise.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“I could never kill you.” I hear a smile in his voice, as if he thinks it’s ridiculous that I would ask. Is there deeper meaning here? My heart patters giddily before I shush it. I must be pretty desperate if I think someone saying they won’t kill me is flirting.

Then, he adds, “Besides, I need your help.”

I can almost tangibly feel his urgency to move, but as I reach for his wrist, the cart stops, the lid to our coffin is wrenched off, and the men step away from the wagon and into the shadows, leaving us alone. Maybe they left. We seem to be in a dark cave, but I have full confidence we can find our way out.

“Well, that was just too easy,” I say, sitting up with relief and wiping sweaty strands of hair from my face.

Then a voice echoes from behind us. “Welcome to my kingdom, trespassers. I am Silas, king of the shifters.”

Ikar scoffs beside me, and I slap his arm and frown. We don’t need more trouble.

But he ignores my warning and then he speaks in that commanding voice he sometimes uses, the one that’s deep and solid and confident and practically forces you to obey. “There is no shift king. This land falls under the rule of the High King and is free for all to cross.”

A wicked-looking knife appears suddenly beneath Ikar’s chin, pressed to his throat. A drop of blood gathers and leaves a deep red trail to the collar of his shirt, but he doesn’t flinch. Apparently, that commanding voice doesn’t work here. A man with sun-bronzed skin speaks close to his ear.

“The High King?” he whispers with a deadly, deep, and decidedly cat-like tone to his voice. And by the looks of the hair on his head that can only be described as a very large, knot-infested mane, he’s a big cat. I gulp. His shifter eyes glow eerily in the darkness of the cave.

“The High Kings who, one after the other, have failed to protect this kingdom? I have claimed this land, this forest, and it is mine. If ever I hear of a king here, high or low, I will hunt him down, and after a slow, torturous death, I will add his molars to my necklace.” He lifts something, and I hear bits of bone clacking together. My face scrunches in disgust.

“And if you even so much as mention theHigh Kingonce more, I’ll add one of yours.”

Ikar’s jaw ticks, but I let out a breath of relief when he stays silent. Silas removes his knife and stands tall.

Another shifter closes in, swinging a sword artfully around as if he can’t wait to strike us. Ikar growls, and I realize that swinging weapon is, in fact, his enchanted sword. The shift king turns and makes his way out of the cave, calling over his shoulder.

“Don’t kill them now. I’ve been waiting for another competitor. This one appears worthy.” And then he growls in a way that somehow sounds very much like laughter.

Chapter 34

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