Page 52 of Bounty Hunter

“Leave, or I’ll kill her,” Silas commands, as he holds a gleaming knife to Vera’s throat.

I shove the tooth in my pocket and glance once more at Vera, then stalk out of the arena without looking back as guilt churns in my gut.Failure.

Chapter 36

Vera

Iwatch as the large gate closes behind Ikar with dread settling in my stomach.He didn’t really leave me here. He’s cuffed, and he was forced. He’ll be back… right?I can’t name the look in his eyes before he turned and left, but it’s not the sort of look I imagine someone having before they leave someone behind. Even with that intense look he gave me, I can’t help but wonder as I’m roughly pulled by my tied wrists back to the musty smelling tent if maybe I’m so much trouble that he’s decided he will be better off without magic the rest of his life. Wouldn’t blame him for it. I never intended for this arrest to go this way. Never before, in all the contracts I’ve accepted with bounty hunters, has one ever been so wrought with wretched obstacles. And never before has a criminal drawn me in like Ikar. It’s probably for the best he’s gone free. If we did happen to stay together, it seems as if our lives would be destined for danger and forbidden love.

As we leave the arena, I hear Silas roar to the crowd, “In two days, another wedding!” The response from the crowd is so loud my earsring.

Anotherwedding? How many has he had? Just as I thought I’d avoided a romantic entanglement with one criminal, which I actually feel sad about, I find out I’ll be forcibly married to another—who’s much less desirable—all in less than ten minutes.

I’m delivered back to the tent full of dusty animal pelts, my hands tied tightly together at the wrists to wait for my impending wedding. The ropes are so tight I’m sure there’ll be red welts. My forearm throbs. I sit there in shock for a long time. This is the closest I’ve ever come to wallowing in self-pity before. Worse even than when I was lost for a month on that first Class A criminal contract I accepted—at least then I was free. A few tears begin to drip into the matted fur of a rabbit, making it smell even mustier and gross, so I stop them pretty quick. It’s difficult to be appropriately emotional while smelling that.

Even as I dry my tears with my shoulder and try to quit sniffling, I consider my situation. Is this it, then? The rest of my life, I’ll be one of a number of wives to an eccentric, self-declared shift king who kills people for entertainment? The charmed bracelet on my wrist unfortunately doesn’t protect me from anyone but a king. I should clarify, atrueking. And that’s only if he tries to find or bridge with me. As Ikar so bluntly stated when we first met Silas, the shift king is not recognized by law—my bracelet does nothing against him. I can only hope the mate bond I have with Ikar will keep Silas from trying to bond with me so I can eventually escape. What did Miss Mate License say? The bonds last for six weeks? I think that’s right. I have six weeks to escape, minus the couple of days we spent traveling already.

If I don’t escape, what will Mama Tina do when I never return for a visit? What will the Tulips do… and Renna? I feel a wave of guilt for not thinking about Renna more these past few days, I hope she’s found another contract since it’s not looking like I’ll make it back to help her. My eyes begin to well up with tears that I have to work to stifle before they hit the furs again.

When the day passes into night, and then into morning of the next day, and I haven’t heard or seen any sign of Ikar, I come to the painful realization he may have truly left me here. Or died—but that’s not likely. I thought I noticed the mate bond dot on my wrist glow a little brighter in the night, but it appears normal in the morning, and I think I just wanted to hope for something. For Ikar to be close. For Rupi to show up. Anything.

My animal heads have stared at me for the last day and a half and kept me company during the night—even if it was forced—so I consider us acquaintances by now. They seem a little friendlier after all this time. It only makes sense to name them, so I do. When I get done with that, it’s noon, and the guard comes in to spill water into my mouth and leaves a large piece of crumbly bread on a horribly dented tin plate before he leaves once again. I refuse to think about where my food has been as I choke it down. Then in my panic and stress, I’m talking to Darla, the fox with the cute tiny whiskers, and nothing against my new silent companions, but that’s when I realize that this will be my life if I don’t do something more.

Instead of talking, I busy my mouth by tearing at the ropes with my teeth. I figure if I’m doing this, I won’t find myself accidentally having one-sided conversations with the animal heads attached to my dress. I don’t know if I’ll have teeth left after, and I don’t know how I’ll get out of this forest without Ikar, wherever he is, but I’m getting out. Don’t know if I’ll ever even see him again, but one thing he’s taught me is to fight. I continue to pull and wiggle and tear against the ropes around mywrists. Hours pass, the suns set, and eventually, the only light comes from a lamp outside the tent door where the guard sits. And finally, I’m left with a mouthful of filthy rope fibers, aching teeth, raw lips, and close-to-bleeding wrists, but I’m loose.

One benefit of a floor covering of animal furs? It’s quiet. Don’t want the snake guard hearing me. I think he’s a snake, at least. His S’s sound sort of hissy like that. I silently creep along the perimeter of the interior of my tent, silently shushing my animal heads as they knock together while I search the edges of the tent for anywhere I may be able to squeeze through. On hands and knees, I finally find a place where I can slip my hand beneath. I kneel there on the filthy pelts, listening. I’ve heard sounds of some sort of celebration with tribal drums and shouting all evening, a distance away. All I can hope is that most everyone is busy there. My heart beats almost in my throat as I shove my head beneath and begin to try to wiggle my shoulders through. It’s tight, and my arms are still stuck beneath the tent at my sides. I can’t see anything but dirt and grass, so when a hand covers my mouth, I begin to struggle in panic, sure that snake shifter found me.

“It’s me. Quiet.”

Ikar. I try not to be so excited. I really shouldn’t depend on him so much, but I admit that if I was free, I would have launched myself into his arms in relief. I was doing just fine on my own, wasn’t I? But it feels much better to have a friend by my side. If only I considered him just a friend.

“You came back,” I whisper after he removes his hand with a little too much surprise in my voice.

“Of course I did,” he whispers back like he’s offended I said that while he grabs beneath my shoulders and pulls as I continue to wiggle through. Pretty sure I’m going to have adress full of dirt by the time I’m free due to the nonexistent neckline of this frock, but I’ll take it if it means I get free. We get my arms loose, and he continues to pull while I wiggle harder, trying to get my hips through. I’ve never felt more ridiculous in my life.

“My dress is stuck,” I whisper, panicked. This is taking too long.

Ikar curses and kneels by the tent to tug the animal heads through. I almost tell him to be careful with Collette when I see how he pulls on one of her delicate rabbit ears, but I catch myself and press my lips together. I don’t want to see the look he would have given me had I said that out loud.

And then the guard comes trotting around the corner with a raspy growl. My eyes meet his glowing ones. A wolf, then. Hm. Definitely not a snake guard. It appears I do not have a talent for guessing a shifter’s form. Ikar jumps to his feet and launches toward the wolf before its teeth can catch onto my shoulder. While they battle it out, I continue to wiggle through, talking my animal heads into submission until I pull myself free and come to standing. A few minutes later, Ikar drags the lifeless wolf into the tent, leaving me a moment to hurriedly pull my hair forward to cover up what the dress doesn’t.

When he returns a few seconds later, his warm grip finds mine, and he tugs me behind him and into the shadows at the outside of the large shift camp. If we get caught, I don’t think Silas will allow Ikar another chance to fight for our freedom. My palms begin to sweat within Ikar’s grasp.

We sneak past an unmoving guard. I don’t know what Ikar did to him, and I don’t ask. He leads me carefully around the shift camp, and I don’t see any other dead guards, but I’m sure there are more. He pauses here and there to wait for guard rotations. I don’t ask how he knows, I just follow. We finally dartinto thick forest after we watch two guards head to our right, conversing quietly as they make their rounds. The sounds of the tribal celebration have faded into the night now, and all around us are the normal sounds of the forest.

We creep through dirt, shrubs, and low-hanging tree branches in the darkness. Ikar stops suddenly, and I squint to see into the darkness. The moons light a wide open field with dim whiteness, revealing what looks like a pack of some sort of flying animals. All I see are large wings glinting in the moonlight.

“What are those?” I whisper.

“Sharp flyers.”

I can’t see much. The forest is dark and gloam magic lurks, increasing the shadows, but it’s obvious the creatures are huge. Other than their size, I can make out no details no matter how I strain my vision.

“On the count of three, run.”

“Do you know how to ride one of these?” I whisper warily. “What exactly is it?”

“Best if you don’t know. One, two, three.” He jumps up, pulling me with him. I gather a wad of the dress in my hand to clear the way for my feet, and we charge across the field, but as we near, I tug back instinctively. The beasts were huge from a distance, and now they are enormous. My eyes are drawn first to the long, curving neck that ends with a flat-shaped, wide head. A horrifying mix of dragon and scorpion. And to my horror, I hear the click of pincers that I can barely see in the darkness. I step back, my eyes trailing down the reptilian neck, the insect-like jointed six legs. I see the smoothness of the creature’s skin reflect the small bit of moonlight and then there’s a huge saddle in front of my face. Behind the saddle, on either side, stretch long, translucent, razor-edged wings. We stopbeside it, and I’m not sure what I expect to smell, but I find I’m strangely comforted when it’s simply leather. The one we stop beside towers over Ikar by at least three feet. I see the foot grip of a saddle dangling at the height of his shoulder, and wonder how people even get on.

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