Page 4 of Art of the Hunt
“I ain’t going back to jail,” the guy yelled, and then there was a gun in his hand and why the hell had Hunter left his outside? Better yet, where the hell was that backup?
Hunter threw up his hands. Something whizzed past him, and a second later, the guy dropped the weapon and started screaming while dancing around like he was barefoot on hot lava stones.
There was an arrow sticking through his hand.
Hunter flung his head around to stare at Artemis. “You shot him with an arrow!”
“Yes.”
“That’s…that’s—” It had to be illegal. Or at least improper procedure. Or—or something.
“You can’t just go around shooting people with bows and arrows!”
She furrowed her brow. “So I should have let him shoot you with the gun?”
“No, of course not. It’s just…” What? What was he supposed to say? The woman had potentially saved his life and he was berating her.
In his defense, the paperwork on this one was going to be a bitch.
Shaking his head, he reached for his handcuffs, only to realize those, too, were tucked behind a bush in the parking lot.
“Would these help?”
He glanced at Artemis, who held a pair of cuffs dangling from her finger. Probably bought them at a sex shop to use in the bedroom, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, so he snagged them and cuffed the guy and called it in.
No doubt all the commotion had scared off the owner, but nailing this guy attempting to pay for sex with a minor would be enough to shut this place down.
“Look, why don’t you get out of here? It’s not proper procedure by a long shot to let you go, but it’ll be a hell of a lot easier than explaining your presence.”
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”
“Er, what do you mean, not without me?”
“I’m your new partner,” she announced, beaming as though she’d just announced he’d won the lottery.
Chapter Two
What an attractive human man.
He had dark skin, dark hair, thick scruff on his face, and a body that many would refer to as “like a Greek god.”
Which was terribly amusing.
His fashion sense left a great deal to be desired, but not everyone was perfect. And as fascinating as they were as a species, a quick glimpse into their recent history showed that humans had an unfortunate tendency to make incredibly poor clothing choices.
Luckily, that was something she could overlook. Everything else about them was so damn fascinating. Their diversity. Their individuality. Their determination to thrive no matter the odds.
Zeus disagreed, of course. That was why he’d hung the No Vacancy sign on Mount Olympus last year. They weren’t worth attempting to save anymore.
He was wrong; she’d just proven it. Denise was worth saving. Thanks to Artemis and the handsome detective, Denise was now free to do whatever she wanted with her life. To grow up and fall in love—the good kind. The healthy kind of love.
The kind Artemis had once with Orion.
See? Totally worth saving.
A week ago, she’d slid her leg over her Harley and drove off into the sunset, leaving Washington with no particular destination in mind. Normally, she’d be with her bestie, Nike, touring the various cities with famous club scenes: LA, Vegas, Miami… But Artemis hadn’t been in the mood, so she’d left Nike behind with explicit instructions not to tell Zeus where she was going.
Easy enough, since Artemis hadn’t known herself.
