Page 104 of Turn That River Red

I just nuzzle against her hair, breathing her in. “That’s just one way I’m gonna keep you safe,” I whisper. “Now. Say the word, and I’ll get things started.”

Mercy lays her cheeks against my shoulder, and I pull her up to me, holding her close. It feels good, holding a woman like this. Promising to protect her. I never gave a shit about being human or doing things humans do. But this one thing? Caring for a woman? Making sure she’s happy?

It’s the one thing I’m willing to make an exception for.

Even though I’m still gonna do it in the way only a Hunter can.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

AMBROSE

The next day, I make the arrangements. It starts with a few snapshots of Mercy’s pretty face in low light, her hair mussed and hanging in her eyes.

“Shouldn’t I look more—messed up?” she says, looking over the pictures with me.

“Nah. I just need to show you’re still alive.” I kiss her temple. “These’ll work just fine.”

I make contact out in the barn, using one of the gas station cell phones I keep on hand. Mercy’s in the house, Max keeping her company. I’ve got Roxi, though, my hand pressing into her fur while I send the pictures via text, along with a single message:

I hear you’re looking for someone. Want to make a trade?

I toss the phone on my workbench and wait, stroking Roxi’s bristled fur. I don’t have to wait long.

Who is this?

I grin, excitement sparking in my blood. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve had a proper hunt. I’ve missed it.

Who do you think?

Then I send a picture of Charlotte’s files, although I obscure the name and dates. Let him wonder which ones I stole.

I heard some interesting things about what you do with your adoptees.

I settle back in my lawn chair, feeling pleased with myself.

This time, the phone rings.

“Reverend Gunner,” I say when I answer.

“Who is this?” His voice is sharp. “What are you doing to Mercy?”

“Keeping her safe and sound.” I lean forward, my heart racing with excitement. “And you know who this. So, what do you say? Want to make a trade?”

“What do you want?”

“Two hundred fifty thousand dollars,” I say. “You give me that, and I’ll give you back Mercy. You don’t, I’ll make sure the FBI knows about the human trafficking the Church of the Well has been involved in.”

“You can’t prove that,” Gunner snarls. The terror and panic are clear in his voice, though.

“I can,” I say. “And unless you give me that two hundred and fifty thousand dollars tomorrow morning at 7 AM, I’ll prove it to the goddamn FBI. Texting you the coordinates. No fucking cops.”

“You think I’m stupid enough to go out there without police support?” he says.

“You want the girl or not?” I grin, relishing the tremble of fear in his voice. “Because I’ve already got everything I need tobring you down. If I see a cop out there, I’m shooting the girl in the head and you’ll still be fucked.”

“Who the hell are you?” Gunner demands. He sounds terrified. “Really?”

“Exactly who I told you.” I settle back in my chair, feeling pleased with myself. “Just an itinerant preacher doing the Lord’s work. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Reverend.”

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