The Hunt (Of Blood and Magic Book 2) Read online

  Becca had hated their arrogance, and the ambush they had laid. But she found herself driven to the brink of tears as she felt their spirits leave their bodies. Why did things have to be like this? Would the killings ever end?

  Luke walked toward her, his face astonishingly placid, as nothing had happened.

  “The hunter who escaped is a potential snitch,” he noted, his eyes alive with his usual intelligence, “We cannot afford to be derailed by some intervention. We need to leave.”

  Becca felt a catch in her throat. “Look how young they were.” she coughed, her voice sounding like it would break.

  Luke's voice was tough as nails. “We warned them, but they decided to put up a resistance. They had it coming.”

  While Becca hated the very thought of what had happened, she was forced to agree that he was right. The way things had played out, it would've been either them or the lieutenants. In the dog eat dog reality that the High Commission had forced the magical realm into becoming, collateral damage like this was inevitable. She agreed with Luke. The deed was done, and now they had to go their way.

  A chilly breeze blew as they walked up the path to the castles, making her shiver beneath her cloak. Luke spanked her ass and, in spite of herself, she felt something squirm within her. She already respected him for so many things, but now she realized that she couldn’t help but additionally respect him for his ability to make the toughest calls when they were needed the most because he always seemed to have the larger picture in mind at all times. Some would deem it ruthless, but she thought it pragmatic; effective even.

  They burst through the castles and reached a wide road where a group of Lykae seemed to be in the middle of a drunken orgy. Luke seemed amused, watching the werewolves plow into one another in public. One of the Lykae, whose tits looked like volcanoes, had three cocks in her pussy at the same time. Becca's jaw couldn’t help but swing open. The High Commission, for inexplicable reasons, seemed quite accommodating of public nudity and open gratification. Luke, by virtue of his special circumstances, thought it all insane and astounding. Becca had seen something like it every single time she was in Transylvania on a mission or running an errand for Grams.

  They walked the sides of the wide street with purpose in their steps like they were on a hunt. They were indeed on a hunt, Becca reminded herself, a hunt for a classic traitor. Becca folded her arms across her chest to generate warmth as the wind blew against her, cold as a wave of ice. Becca had never known Luke's instincts to be wrong, but she wondered if maybe he was wrong about this one. What if Tyrone was dead? He could’ve been consumed by the shame of his deed and attempted to atone for it by taking his own life? Or, maybe the coalition, having no further use for his inside information after they had captured Luke and razed down the kingdom, had captured him too and tortured him till death? A zillion possibilities sprang into Becca's mind that Tyrone was dead. But the way Luke tracked him, his nose quivering and puckering up like that of a Lykae chasing a scent, she could tell that he was more than sure Tyrone was alive.

  As she inched forward, coming shoulder to shoulder with him, he muttered: “I can feel him.”

  They passed Winding Street and after Winding Street, they entered deeper into the heart of Transylvania. With each new street, they came to a step closer to the Transylvania High Commission building. The hunter who ran must've given them word by now. It was plausible that they were rolling out sentinels to scour the streets even as they spoke. Being with Luke in these past days had massively skyrocketed her confidence. She used to dread what the High Commission could do; what they would do to get their way in any situation, which was anything. Now, though she knew their capacity had not changed, she didn’t feel as much trepidation as she used to about feeling the sting of their might. However, she couldn’t help but hope that he didn’t plan to infiltrate the High Commission by himself as an afterthought. He was super powerful, no one disputed that, but making a one man army move with the High Commission was risky even for him, and frankly quite stupid. The High Commission simply had too many resources at their disposal.

  They reached the curve at the end of a road that led away from a High Commission supply depot, when Luke sighed. “I've lost him,” he revealed, but his voice was neither resigned nor sad, it was far from it, “I can’t sense him anymore, but I swear I could up until a moment ago. We'll have the go back the way we came, but first, let’s call it a night.”

  Luke looked like he still had a lot of hunting in him, but the events of the evening and the thinking she had been doing had sapped Becca of much of her energy. She looked drained, and the gratitude shined in her eyes when Luke said to call it a night.

  She looked around. They were in a street with no hotels or inns or holiday facilities. She couldn’t help but wonder where they would sleep, but Luke apparently had other ideas. She watched him walk up to a car that was parked a few blocks away. It was red, with gleaming black tires. As they reached it, Luke angled his elbow to break through the side window, but Becca halted him.

  “There’s always more than one route to the market,” she said sagely, hoping that somewhere in his head the statement would click. It was Grams who had once told her this, and she felt it was particularly pertinent to their exact scenario right now. Luke desired to have Tyrone's head hanging off a pole the moment he set eyes on him, but maybe he could consider another way. There was more than one way to bell a cat, after all.

  She reached out her hand until it hovered right beside the door, and then she said a short spell, the magic dancing on her fingertips with a lavender glow. She heard a little click from within the car as the lock mechanism unworked itself. She pulled at the door handle and the door opened up to her.

  “Well done.” Lukai commended, looking pleased by her skill. She felt blood rush to her cheeks in a wave. They climbed into the car and closed the doors and Becca took off her boots and rolled out the windows so her feet could breathe.

  Luke took off his backpack for the first time and flopped it on the seat beside him. He looked out the windshield for a brief spell and then turned back to gaze at her, his eyes rippling with pools of desire.

  “You're so beautiful,” he said, his voice husky like dried corn on the cob. She felt her insides turn to rubber at his words, feeling herself melt from the inside. Then he migrated from the driver's seat to the seat behind and lobbed her backpack to the front, so it was only them both in the back seat and nothing else. His crimson eyes looked like wine captured in shiny black orbs. “Thank you for understanding the importance of this mission, and coming along with me without restraint.” His words sounded deeply honest and unrestrained. Becca felt something move inside her.

  “I'm your fated mate,” she said simply, her voice heavy with passion, “I don’t need an explanation. I'm here with you through thick and thin.”

  Luke beamed at her words and she felt warmth spread all the way down to her fingertips. With each passing hour, she felt their connection grow stronger. She didn’t have to look at his face now to tell them what he was feeling or the emotions throbbing beneath his skin. She wondered what secrets their connection would unearth next.

  Luke leaned in and their lips met. He kissed her passionately, his tongue wrestling her tongue with intense harmony, hers responding with similar skill and purpose. He kissed her eyelids, her hair, her rosy lips, and the nape of her hair. He pulled off her cloak and raised her blouse over her head. She did the same for his cloak and shirt, so that all each of them had on was his denim pants and her denim skirt.

  Luke stared for a moment at the image of her boobs in the moonlight. Becca's boobs diverged voluptuously from the narrow canal that formed the middle of her rib cage. As she inhaled, her chest cavity expanded, and her already large tits seemed to swell even bigger. Luke thought he would go mad at the sight of it.

  He brought his face to her nipples, sucking on one while wrapping the other boob with his right palm. Becca moaned, feeling her wetness introduce itself to his
skin. He suckled on each nipple until it hardened like a sword tip. His tongue drew shapes on her areolas as his teeth nibbled their edges. Becca moaned like she had swallowed fire.

  He introduced his mouth to the rest of her body; the ridges of her navel, the spruce of golden hair lining the narrow passageway to her steaming pussy. As Luke's tongue reached the mouth of her pussy, he felt the heat of it overwhelm his senses. It radiated the warmth of an incandescent light bulb. Luke ran his eyes over the tiny growth of hair forming crown over her vulva. The golden-brown sheen of the hair stopped with his tracks. With his eyes, he worshipped it. Then he brought his face closer, put her pussy to his mouth, and cleaned it out with his tongue. First, he licked every inch of her pussy lips, kissing them passionately, as Becca moaned clasped her hands together over his head, pushing him down by the silky hair, wanting more of him in her; wanting him to eat her pussy like a freshly baked doughnut.

  As he tongued her off, his tongue venturing deeper into her pussy, she felt her pussy fill with warm juice. She raised her hands to her mouth, wet her fingers with her tongue, and then used the wet fingers to fondle her tits. Luke replaced his tongue with his index and middle finger bunched together. He slid it into her, working expertly to stimulate her clit, sending screams pouring out of her to hit the metal and leather roof above them.

  He lay her on her back, her head resting against the groove of the door behind her, and slid his full length into her. She moaned loudly as he drove into her, his mouth anointing her tits as his cock slid into her sweetest spots. He locked his knees with her thighs and plowed into her. Her moans intensified, climaxing in a glorious shriek as he slammed her G-spot the third time. She squirted over his chest, rubbing his stomach as she convulsed the pleasure out of her. It felt hard as an ironing board.

  But she was only just the beginning. She took over, pushing his back against the opposite door. She took his cock in her mouth and sucked the sunlight out of it. She choked on his cock, over and over, until his head swam with pleasure. Then she licked the base of his cock, quickly extending to his balls, to each of which she licked all over with her tongue and popped with her mouth. She ran her tongue through the grooved path leading down his balls toward his asshole. Without warning, she took his ass and ate it like paste. Luke groaned so hard he thought his throat would fly out. She traveled all the way up to his nipples and took each in her mouth, nibbling it with such intensity he thought his brain would burst. Then, she adjusted his legs and splayed hers on both sides of his large erection. In one fluid movement, she swallowed his cock whole with her wet, warm pussy, facing next to no problem. Luke felt his knees buckle as the sensation hit him, dizzying him momentarily.

  She straddled him with power, sliding her pussy up and down his cock with purpose. He raised his hips to meet her thrust as she descended. It was harmony at its most perfect. Luke felt a wave of heat paralyze his body. He was about to come. He murmured gibberish at Becca, but she didn’t disengage. He couldn’t help but go on, driving wildly into her, his head in the highest clouds, his cock screaming with pleasure. He spasmed as he came, filling her up with his seed as her features came alive with deep satisfaction. She leaned into him, covering their faces with her hair like a tent, and then she kissed him like her lips would fall off. They kissed passionately, devouring each other's tongues, her boobs squashed on his chest, nipples greeting nipples.

  In some minutes, Luke was good to go again. He fucked her pussy like a monster, filling her with all his love, and she took him in in all his fullness, hungrily, with her pussy like a warm embrace, hugging his cock tightly like it wouldn’t let go. She came and he came and she came again and he came, until they both glided past the ninth cloud, bodies spasming with the force of pent up pressure.

  After the fourth round, they collapsed side by side, crushing their bodies to find space on the narrow, puffed seat. Their chests heaved with the force of a cement truck, and their faces widened with a look that was as content as any being could ever be. She gazed into his eyes, and this time, as she was transported momentarily into his mind, she found no dark clouds or ominous visions. All she found were images of herself, in a meadow carpeted with the finest nzeri grass. There was no sun in the sky, but the heavens were a brilliant blue. Fire lilies bloomed at the edges of the meadow, and birds made of smoke and dust, and a bit of cloud flew overhead in a wide V formation, looking majestic against the canvas of the sky above them. And there she was in the meadow, seated on the grass, a crown of the purest gold on her head, an enchanted staff with silver markings at the sides levitating right beside her. She looked like the queen she was meant to be; sublime, powerful, beautiful.

  She looked at Luke, her eyes dancing with a fire of which magnitude she had never realized she could conjure.

  “Do you think we just made our first baby?” she asked, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth as she spoke, as her mind weighed the magnitude of the possibility.

  She watched Luke's face expand with a smile that radiated the warmth of ten suns. It was a smile so beautiful it reached his eyes, spreading warmth through them. But he said nothing. He simply wrapped his arms behind her neck, drew her closer, and planted a large kiss on her rosy, rosy lips.

  ∞∞∞

  Chapter 7

  THE REUNION

  When Timou arose the next morning, Elena was already out and about. Despite the quantity of booze she had taken in the previous night, she didn’t seem in the least hungover. She went about organizing their breakfast with a brisk expression on her face, her orb floating dreamily behind her.

  “You’re up,” she noted in her usual formal manner, but her voice sounded a lot kinder than usual. She nearly smiled at him. She waved her arms and the door opened to let three trays float in. Each tray was piled high with platters of the best breakfast items; scrambled eggs, toast, whole fat butter, maple syrup, bacon, omelets, full skimmed milk, cream cookies, shortbread, grapes, hot chocolate. Timou stared at Elena. Would she ever quit surprising him like this?

  They dug into the platter, which was especially delicious. Elena ate gracefully, and Timou followed her lead. Growing up, he had gotten used to guzzling his meals like a hungry bear, because he was always concerned about training and catching up with his peers. Elena, however, had always been one for etiquette and all that. When they were done, Timou felt like he wouldn’t need to eat anything again for three months, though he knew that he would be famished once again by lunchtime. Their platters floated away as they dropped the last crumbs. He had never seen Elena use her telekinesis so much in such a short space of time. He knew how stressful telekinesis could be for a witch. Not only was it an incredibly rare and exclusive brand of magic, but it couldn’t be activated by spells. The power was directly connected with the witch’s life force, and many gifted witches across history had been known to faint when they employed their telekinesis for more than a minute. Yet here she was, pulling off a half-hour of telekinesis without as much as breaking a sweat. She was growing in her power, and this was as terrifying as it was exciting, as she was already basically the most powerful witch alive. Some quarters continued to tilt in the direction of her mother Celine, though, touting experience as their core reason. But anyone who knew anything about magic knew that Elena's powers outshined her mother's, and Timou knew it was this singular fact that had driven a wedge between them.

  Something seemed renewed about Elena as she willed the empty trays out of the room. The wild sparks had returned to her eyes, her cheekbones had returned to their lofty heights, and her eternal expression of derision was back in its purest form, as it had always been. And while she seemed to reserve a certain tenderness for him on occasion these days, he still wasn’t spared of her natural abrasiveness. It didn’t matter to Timou, though. He would take how things currently were over how they used to be one thousand times over. He was comfortable in this, venom and all. He smiled a thank you at her and she nodded tenderly, acknowledging his gratitude.

  “We need
to hurry back to the High Commission,” she piped up, her expression suddenly becoming grim, “Lukai and his fated mate are back in Transylvania. They were sighted at the southern doorways. We need to lay our hands on them and take back our pound of flesh before they vanish again. We have to do this, for Seydoo.”

  Timou felt stirred up by her resolve. If Lukai was here, then Christmas had come early. They just had to ensnare him, and then they would make him pay. Timou realized that Elena wouldn’t rest until he did, and he found himself developing an attraction to that resolve. They would strike him back.

  Timou couldn’t help but wonder how she had gotten this bit of info. They had slept in the same room in an inn that wasn’t within the High Commission's premises. High level red alerts such as this were never publicized by the High Commission, to avoid creating panic amongst the citizens of Transylvania. In fact, most times, only the highest ranked lieutenants and clan heads would know about it and handle the threat accordingly. So, how had she gotten the information

  Elena seemed to pick the question of the curious look on his face, because she threw back her head and chuckled, a familiar glint springing to life in her eyes. “You know I have my sources.” she simply said. Did she just wink at him?

  And so, at her words, Timou picked their backpacks off the floor and they headed out of the room '∆’. As they climbed down the stairs and emerged in the bar area, Timou noticed how starkly different space had become now that it was morning. The bartender from last night was up, mopping the floor with soap water from a pail right beside him. His eyelids were puffy and strung up. His eyes looked red like a demon's. He glanced at them with a blank expression, clearly not recollecting them, though they had drunk for over an hour in front of him, and though Timou had tossed him what he thought was a hefty tip before Elena dragged him up the stairs. Timou sent him a stiff nod of camaraderie as they stepped out into the bright morning sun. The cobbled streets stretched out in front of him showed Timou they weren’t far away from the High Commission's building. As the streets ran inland toward the center of Transylvania, the pedigree of the cobbling got better. The streets were paved with greater care and the sidewalks gleamed with regular polishing.