Embraced By Darkness

But until someone popped along with an explanation as to what the hell was going on, I wasn't about to guess. My imaginings would probably be far worse than the reality. After all, I'd been in some pretty shitty situations over the last year or so—and I seriously doubted whether fate could throw anything else at me worse than a god of pain set on world domination.

So I sat on the floor and waited yet again. I hated waiting, but there was nothing else to do but pace. And that would get old very quickly.

The moon had passed its zenith and had begun the long track toward dawn before someone finally got motivated enough to visit.

His scent touched the air long before I actually saw him—musky, spicy human. Jared. Or Jorn, as the case may be.

His footsteps were light, measured. A man who was sure of himself. A man who was used to power and getting his own way. I reached out telepathically but, like on the island, felt nothing except an odd sort of blankness. Only it didn't feel electronically induced, but rather natural. He had shields every bit as strong as mine. Meaning, I wasn't going to be able to read him or control him—not without a lot of time and effort.

And I had a bad feeling time was the one thing I didn't have much of.

Jorn strode through the door, dressed in jungle greens and thick boots, and stopped in front of my cell. His expression was an odd mix of arrogance and excitement. Not sexual excitement, but the sort of excitement that went with a chase.

I looked him up and down, noting the sheathed bowie knife strapped to his left leg, and a pistol holster attached to his hip.

'Shall I call you Jorn? Or do you prefer Jared?'

Amusement played about his lips. 'You worked it out.'

'Took me a while. I never realized there was a branch of humanity who could alter their features.'

'It's a family gift.'

'Just like the family trait of madness?' I said sweetly. 'Tell me, was it you or Yohan in the truck and the car?'

'that was my brother. He never was a very good driver.'

If he had been, I might have been squished meat under the truck's tires. 'And the shooter?'

He grimaced. 'A misjudgment on our part, because we were foolish enough to believe his assurance that he was good enough to take you out.'

He almost had been, but I wasn't about to mention that.

'Why choose an exclusive island like Monitor to set your trap? Why not choose something more accessible to the masses?'

'Because there is something decidedly delicious in hunting the spoiled wealthy. It's the eyes,' he added, expression almost dreamy. 'The realization in those final moments that, despite all their wealth and power, there is nothing they can do to stop death. Plus, of course, it was bitches like them who killed our father. None of them deserved to live.'

'So did you sleep with said bitches?'

He snorted. 'I've seen what you lot can do to human flesh. No thanks. Besides, flirting got me all the information I needed.' He hesitated, and grinned. 'You women are so careless with your purses.'

My missing driver's license, I thought suddenly. That's how the shooter had my address, and probably how he knew the addresses of the others. 'How did you handle all the other staff at the island?'

'We adjusted the memories of a few. With the rest, it was just a matter of timing. We simply ensured our appearances coincided with the downtime of those we were copying.'

These boys might be insane, but they were damn clever as well.

'Why did you attack us at Mirror Image? If you had let us go, you could have made an easy escape.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'But we already have. It'll take your people a very long time to trace us to this island, and by then, we'll be gone.'

'But by kidnapping us, you've only crystallized the Directorate's suspicion and ensured they'll come after you. And trust me, that's never a good thing.'

He smiled. 'Perhaps. But we've never hunted a guardian before. We thought it worth the risk.'

'One you will not live long enough to savor.'

He shrugged. 'The threat of death is all part of the glory of the hunt. There's no thrill where there is no danger.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'Only the insane would consider hunting two guardians fun. Most people tend to run from us, given any sort of choice.'

'We are not most people. And our last hunt was a disappointment. We need a good challenge before we move on.'

I studied him for a moment, wondering why he was so damn confident that he felt no qualms about telling me everything, then said, 'So why have you been hunting them? Why not just shoot them, then slice off their heads, like you did your first victim?'

'Because we were young then, and blind to the prospects of the hunt.' He paused. 'Was Adrienne the reason you appeared on the island and the Directorate began investigating the club?'

'Yes.' Better to let him think the Directorate had been wise to their ways, when in fact I'd only been investigating thanks to Blake's blackmailing insistence. God knows how many other women they would have taken before the Directorate had become aware of their activities. The number might even have been as high as the seventeen that went missing in England. 'Is that why you left the UK and came here? Because the authorities got wind something was up?'

'The regular authorities we could have handled. It was only when the Directorate took a serious interest that we had to move on.' Annoyance flickered—a brief, black cloud in his otherwise cheerful expression. 'We had hoped to source quite a few more hunts here before we were forced to go elsewhere.'

'So why Adrienne? She looked nothing like the woman who killed your father.'

Something flicked through his eyes. Anger. Or madness. It was hard to tell which. 'We had no option when she appeared on the island asking questions. Plus, she had that sketch.'

'Which was you, I take it.'

He nodded. 'Unfortunately, it turned out your pack-mate had an interesting psychic skill that allowed her to read a person's past. She ran into me at the club, and apparently caught glimpses of our murderous little habit.'

'She told you this?'

He smiled benignly. 'Of course she did. She thought it would help her live.'

'So she and the others are dead?'

'Yes. Though they do live on in our memories. And through our trophies.'

I stared at him for a minute, my stomach turning as I remembered the fact that the head of their first victim had never been found. 'You take trophies?'

He chuckled, and it was a cold, inhuman sound. 'Of course. All hunters do. The heads of all our prey line the walls of our lodge, so we and others can admire the beauty of their death. Although Adrienne has not yet joined them. Our taxidermist went on holidays.'

Oh God, that was just… beyond sick. These weren't just animals we were talking about, these were people.

Living, breathing human beings. Or rather, nonhuman beings.

And how in hell did they find a taxidermist who'd even do such a thing?

'You will pay for those trophies,' I said, my voice flat, devoid of the anger that was running through me. Just like Rhoan, when he stepped into his guardian shoes and became the efficient killing machine he'd been trained to be.

A shiver went through me, and deep down something screamed no. But I had to wonder how much longer that voice would last if I kept getting thrown up against the psychos of this world.

'That's the whole idea,' he said cheerfully. 'We hunt. You try to make us pay. Of course, there are rules.'

I snorted. 'Like I'm actually going to obey any of your rules once I'm out of here?'