Page 339 of Hunters and Prey

I tracked her gaze to find our target sitting in the shadows. Wait, that wasn’t Barret. This guy was bigger and bulkier, and his face was hidden in the gloom. His attention seemed to be fixed on the figure sitting at the table in front of him, which actually did happen to be Barret. Our facilitator had his back to the large man. His hood was also up, hiding his face as it always did, but it was him all right. You could tell from the knobby knuckles and impossibly long fingers of his hands as he gripped his tankard.

I leaned in toward Helgi, all casual-like. “Who’s the other guy?”

Helgi sipped her ale. “What guy?”

“The one behind ... Wait, where’d he go?”

“Tut, focus, Anya. We’re here for a job, remember?”

She thought I’d been checking out the talent, and to be honest, the shadow-shrouded specimen had had a certain allure, but it had been curiosity, nothing else.

Helgi led the way toward Barret, using her stocky frame to pry the crowd apart, and then we were sliding into the tacky booth opposite him. He didn’t raise his head or push back his hood, didn’t acknowledge our presence in any way aside from sliding a piece of paper across the table toward us. There was a date, a time, and a set of coordinates on the paper. That was it.

“What is this?” Helgi asked.

Barret downed his drink, and then made to slide out of the booth.

My hand whipped out to grasp his wrist. “She asked you a question.”

He turned his head in my direction, the deep, dark recesses of that hood like a single awful eye staring into my soul. My pulse leapt and fear crawled up my throat. My ankle burned where a silver chain I’d worn forever made contact with my flesh. It was a warning, and I released him abruptly, shocked by the sudden stab of terror and the sting on my skin. Where the heck had that come from?

He turned away and melted into the crowd.

“What do you make of that?” Helgi asked, scrutinizing the scrap of paper as if expecting more words to bloom across its stained surface.

“I don’t know.”

Barret didn’t talk. He never spoke, but he always gave us specific directions. Place, time, mission, and bounty on offer. We’d read, memorize, and then burn the paper. The guy was obviously mute. But this was just weird—coordinates, date, and time, but no details on the actual job.

“So what do we do?” Helgi asked.

“I guess we’re just going to have to show up to find out.”

“Hey, Helgi. Fancy a tumble?” a barrel-chested guy by the window called out.

“Unless you have tits and a cunny, I’m not interested,” Helgi shot back.

“Aw, he ain’t got the tits,” his companion said. “But he sure is a cunny.”

Helgi guffawed as I choked into my ale.

A shadow fell over the table. “Anya?”

Oh, fuck. I’d know that voice anywhere. I glanced up into Dunstan’s handsome, arrogant face. He was big, almost as tall as me, and the only male I’d allowed myself to feel anything for. Young, foolish Anya with stars in her eyes and hope in her heart. Dunstan had killed that with a reality check when I’d found him with a real woman. One that made him feel like a man, one that couldn’t pick him up and throw him around the fucking barn. It had hurt, but not as much as his face when I’d buried my fist in it. And that was me done when it came to relationships. Funny thing was, once I was no longer interested, the arsehole wouldn’t leave me alone. The man was like a throwing star, cutting and deadly and impossible to lose.

“How have you been, Anya? It’s been a while,” he said with his signature smolder.

“Not long enough.” I didn’t bother to offer him a smile.

“You’re looking well,” Helgi said. “How were your travels?”

Dunstan was a hired hand like us. In fact, it had been through his recommendation that we’d gotten our first gig with Barret. His way of apologizing for being an ass, no doubt.

“Travels were productive,” he said.

Helgi shot me a sly glance. “Join us.”

Bitch. She was getting back at me for the curvy brunette at the bar. That’d teach me to cunny block her. I grit my teeth as Dunstan took her up on the offer. His knees brushed against mine under the table, and the impulse to flinch was almost too much.

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