Page 23 of Fated to the Hunters
Scarlett could still feel the tension between them, especially when he didn’t give her his usual hug. She hated it, but she didn’t say anything, knowing it would have just made it harder for him. She knew he loved her. Kurt didn’t need to use his words for her to know how much she hated this. But having her father breathing down one’s back was nothing to take lightly, especially not if you didn’t want to fall from his good graces.
Still, Kurt opened the car door for her and helped her into her seat. “Did you pack snacks?”
Scarlett shook her head, relieved when he gave her one of his classic cheeky smiles.
“Middle console.”
She reached over, finding her favourite crisps inside before sitting back and buckling her seatbelt.
Paul took the passenger seat, while Daniel slid in next to her. She lost herself scrolling through her phone while they sped down the highway. The drive back always felt much shorter than the drive out and she hated every minute of it. Kurt would usually stop somewhere along the line to pick up food, but even that was out of the question. He probably had strict orders to bring her home without any delays.
The shattering of glass caught Scarlett’s attention. A sickening gurgle came from Kurt, and he grabbed at his abdomen. A bullet hole splintered the windshield, and blood dripped from her best friend’s mouth. Before she could scream, a loud bang echoed in her ears and the tires screeched on the asphalt.
Kurt lost control, swerving and crashing into a tree. Daniel’s arm shot out to protect her, but his head crashed into the driver seat, blood trickling down his temple. Paul slammed forward, hitting the dash before the airbags could deploy.
Scarlett’s head ached and her ribs burned. Daniel’s visibly fractured arm lay in her lap. Her door shot open, a fist grabbing her by the hair
“Worked like a fucking charm.”
Someone laughed, but her eyes were transfixed on the blood pooling in Kurt’s lap. He was aiming a gun at her attacker, his eyes blurry and unable to focus. She screamed and tried to yank the fist from her hair but before she could even leave a mark, a pain rocketed through her skull, and everything went black.
Chapter Nine
Mateo
Mateo sat pouring over the papers they’d found at Valentine’s mansion, trying to find more information on a lycan hideout. They’d seen it scribbled in the margins of a diary entry. Lycans were basically extinct. At least, that’s what they’d been led to believe. They were a valuable asset. Their blood could mask a hunter’s scent, and witches would go feral for anything from a lycan’s body.
The door crashing open made Mateo flinch. Vince rushed over, holding his phone out. Through the bond, he could feel him call for Ezra who immediately sprinted down the stairs. Staring down at the screen, Mateo’s heart cracked in half.
Scarlett laid in the trunk of a car, her head bleeding and an IV in her arm that seemed to be keeping her sedated.
“George and two of his friends managed to get to her.”
The three of them were out the door before that bastard’s name left Vince’s mouth. They strapped on their weapons and filled up on ammunition as Vince continued to explain.
“They ambushed her on the way home from the Wolfmoon ceremony. I think he might be taking her to Glent to his slaughterhouse.”
“Fuck!” Mateo spat, hastening to the truck. They sped off, not caring that they didn’t have time to conceal their plates. Their mate was hurting, and she needed them.
Ezra’s mind raced as Vince merged onto the highway. Mateo tried to stay focused, but he couldn’t stop thinking of the horrible things George could do to her. They weren’t close but from what Mateo had heard, George was one of those hunters who enjoyed the thrill of the chase without much care about the rules. By hunter law, wolves could only be hunted if they became a threat to the human population. How was taking Scarlett in line with that?
“We should’ve stayed with her,” Ezra growled. Though Mateo wanted to argue against it he knew his friend was right.
Ezra had hated the idea of not following her, but he and Vince had argued to give her space and not to crowd her. They’d expected her pack’s warriors would protect her. After all, she had been on pack land.
Ezra’s blade sliced into his thigh, bringing physical pain to match with their shared mental turmoil. The drive was torture, and by the time they approached the building that they knew George used as his slaughterhouse, Mateo’s muscles ached from being clenched so tightly.
The warehouse was in the middle of nowhere and with the tarnished walls and roof that threatened to crumble at any given moment, most assumed it to be abandoned. As they rounded the bend, they saw the idiot’s car parked by a slowly opening garage door. Vince revved the engine and rolled to a stop behind them. Ezra’s door was open and he was out of the car before it was put into park. Mateo approached the car on Ezra’s heels.
“Oh, gorgeous George,” Ezra sang in that devilish tone, swinging his silver baseball bat. “I believe you have something that is ours.”
George jumped out of the passenger seat; gun drawn as the car drove into the large hall behind them. “What the fuck do you want?”
“The man of the hour,” Ezra snarled. “C’mon, I wanna see our little princess.”
“She’sours.”
Ezra gave him the sweetest of smiles, while his eyes were fixed on the object of his rage. “Of course she is.”
