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The Huntress
The Huntress
The Huntress
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The Huntress

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The Hunter:
Traumatized at a young age by the violent death of her parents, Mea Brin becomes a Hunter, part of an elite policing force of the Planetary Coalition. She is the best of the best, ruthless and predatory on a hunt and driven by the memory of violence. But then she meets Seth Terrik, an escaped convict, and Regan Freya, a child recently orphaned. The pair make an impression on Mea that she can’t ignore—she feels a deep empathy for the girl and in Terrik she sees reflections of herself. Her choices seem limited—duty demands that she capture the escapee and turn the child over to the proper authorities. But Mea is not one to allow duty to define her. She creates a new choice.

The Convict:
Seth Terrik has spent more than half of his life in prison. All that he knows or cares about is survival and the fight for freedom until a trusting girl becomes his responsibility and a seductive Hunter offers him what looks like a second chance at life. The simple rules of his existence become much more complicated as he is forced to redefine the concepts of survival and freedom. What does a hardened criminal like him know of trust or love? Is he even capable of stepping beyond instinct and into human emotion?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 22, 2014
ISBN9781310994562
The Huntress
Author

Michelle O'Leary

Scifi fantasy romance author Michelle O'Leary resides in Marquette, MI which graces the shore of pristine Lake Superior. Born and raised in Upper Michigan, Michelle is a child of nature, enjoying all things outdoors.Originally published through a small e-publisher, Michelle became an independent author publishing her work through Amazon Kindle, CreateSpace, and Smashwords before being accepted into The Wild Rose Press family. Her titles include The Huntress, The Third Sign, Sunscapes Trilogy, Light of Kaska, and more.Michelle is a mother first, a dedicated chocoholic, a contented Michigander, and a delirious word lover. She loves all feedback and is always happy to hear from readers!

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    The Huntress - Michelle O'Leary

    Novels:

    The Huntress

    Angels and Ministers of Grace

    Last Chance: Sunscapes Trilogy Book 1

    Here There Be Dragons Sunscapes Trilogy Book 2

    Light of Kaska

    No Such Thing

    The Third Sign

    Short Stories:

    Stepping Stones: The Huntress Series of Short Stories

    Felinar Chronicles

    Lover’s Gift Regained

    Kernel of Creation

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Chapter 1

    What a shithole, Mea muttered under her breath, looking around the bar in disgust.

    She’d seen worse, though the place still ranked about a nine on her yuck-o-meter. She’d entered the building through the back door after her quarry and had to maneuver through rubble to reach the bar area. Though someone had braced the crumbling structure with large metal beams, the occasional creak and groan over Mea’s head was not comforting. Neither was the dusting of debris that accompanied the noises. She was grateful for the hood of her cloak and her boots. Who knew what sprinkled down on her head or what nastiness she stood in? The deep shadows fought a winning battle with the lighting over the bar, keeping the details of the bar’s decay a blessed mystery.

    After traversing the rest of the moonbase to reach this location, she wasn’t a bit surprised by the unhygienic ambiance. The atmosphere dome that contained the air for the moonbase blurred the stars into smears with its coating of grime. The crumbling settlement oozed apathy and the sullen furtiveness of vermin. Hunting in this little piece of space was like wading through a sewer.

    Best place to find shit. Warren’s voice sounded tiny but cheerful over the transceiver in her ear. He would be cheerful—he didn’t have to walk in it.

    She hummed in response as one man staggered from the bar to vomit on one of the steel beams then meandered back to his seat. She wrinkled her nose in disgust when the smell drifted over, a freshening of the bar’s rancid bouquet.

    Charming, she sighed and shook an arm out of her cloak, tapping the genetic tracer on her wrist. It lit up like a nova when she turned it toward the group huddled at the bar. Target acquired, she murmured tonelessly.

    Acknowledged.

    Shifting through the darkness like a living shadow, she made a quick headcount of the patrons, the stragglers in the rubble as well as those at the bar. About twenty men hunched desperately over their alcohol, her target dead center. Just as she was about to move forward to extract her man from the group, the front entrance slid open.

    Mea glanced over to see how many more would join her target but went still when she got a look at the man who entered. On the surface, he wasn’t that out of place. Hair buzzed almost to the skin like most spacers and face pale from lack of UV, he was average height, his worn and stained flight suit a bad fit over his muscular build. He wore shaded goggles. At night and in the dim lighting, that was curious enough, but his muscles moved over his bones with a powerful menace that kept her eyes trained on him, hunter’s instincts tingling.

    With only a cursory glance at the bar, he moved into the rubble and the darkness. Once in the rubble, he stopped and became still as stone. If she hadn’t been watching him, he would be a seamless part of the dark.

    Another hunter would have ignored him and continued with the hunt, but what made her one of the best was she never ignored her instincts. She recognized him as another dangerous animal—had her target hired protection? That didn’t seem likely. But perhaps her quarry’s boss had sent a watchdog to throw a monkey wrench into her hunt.

    Keeping her eyes trained on his piece of shadow, she stayed still in her own darkness and waited with the patience of a true predator. He was not on her list of targets, but she’d hunt him if he made it necessary.

    Not more than two minutes passed before the door opened again. Mea watched in disbelief as a child stepped through, stopping to stare with wide, wary eyes around the bar. This was a deeply dangerous place for a little one. In the outposts, children were a commodity and a novelty for the sick-minded, and every face in the bar turned toward the youngster hungrily. No one moved for several heartbeats.

    Then the shadow man she’d been watching stirred.

    Swearing under her breath, she moved forward, breaking cover to place herself between them, back to the man as though she was unaware of him. On close inspection, she realized this was a girl, but the choppy brown hair and clothes made her look like a boy-child. She was staring at Mea, her dark eyes glossy with fear.

    Child, you will be eaten alive in here, Mea said in a low, stern voice.

    The girl twitched as though prodded, eyes widening even more.

    No, she won’t.

    The deep rumble came from behind Mea, but she didn’t turn, watching relief wash over the girl’s face. The girl knew her shadow man—had she followed him here? But just because the girl seemed to know and trust him didn’t mean Mea should. His behavior was seriously suspect. He’d been lying in wait for her. What kind of ugliness did he have in mind?

    Mea tilted her head toward him, keeping her eyes on the child. Friend of yours?

    He’s my father, the girl said with a lift of her chin, eyes flickering into the shadows with a shade of defiance.

    An obvious lie, but the man said nothing.

    "Well, your father should know better than to let you in a place like this." Mea paused for a moment, but neither responded.

    The girl shifted in place and looked into the shadows again, fingers plucking at the hem of her vest. She was around ten years old and would have been cute in a fey sort of way if she’d had more hair. Girls didn’t usually wear it quite so short and it looked like it had been hacked off with a careless knife, the strands sticking out in all directions.

    Mea raised her hand to the girl’s temple. Did he make you cut your— Her fingers hovered a breath away from the child’s tender head as a sharp object pressed into her back. A thrill ran through her.

    Hands off.

    Slowly letting her hand drop back to her side, Mea grinned with a hunter’s delight. She hadn’t heard him approach. She’d had her senses tuned to him and still hadn’t known when he’d drawn near. It was always interesting to meet a fellow predator, and her curiosity about these two doubled.

    His protectiveness was mildly reassuring. She didn’t think he’d let any of these sharks near the girl, unless he was planning on selling her, which wasn’t likely—one didn’t allow merchandise to wander around by itself. His own intentions toward the girl were still suspect, but that wasn’t a tangle she could unravel at the moment. The problem was that the three of them were still the center of attention. She knew several of the patrons were plotting to grab the girl. As a hunter, she couldn’t ignore the situation, but she also couldn’t walk out with the girl and give up her target. She had business with him that was on a timetable.

    Looking into the girl’s big dark eyes, she had an idea. Her grin widened for a moment. It wasn’t the most original of plans, but with this unsavory crowd it would work like a charm. Besides, all work and no play was bad for the soul.

    Down, boy, she purred, pulling off the hood of her cloak slowly. Turning her head, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Neither one of you is on my menu tonight. Slipping an arm behind her back, she gently ran a nail down his knife arm and gave him a hungry little smile. Though you do smell delicious.

    He pressed harder with the knife.

    She eased away from it with a chuckle. Removing her cloak, she dropped it at his feet and turned to the girl. Put that on and get the hell out of here.

    Then she sauntered forward, smiling to her audience at the bar. You boys ready for some fun? At the same time, she placed the nail with her shadow man’s skin sample in the tracer and started an identity search.

    With women in short supply on this far-flung outpost, Mea’s long dark hair and armless skintight black body suit definitely grabbed their attention. Never mind that she was wearing various hunter accoutrements and weapons from head to toe. She wasn’t sure the drunk, horny bastards even noticed as they whooped and hollered obscenities.

    The tracer beeped when she reached the bar and she scanned the information with a growing sense of glee. This was going to be a very productive trip.

    His name was Seth Terrik. He was supposed to be in the hole for murder, eight counts, three of which were done inside. On the record it said he was at Malthat, the Big Bad Ugly, sentenced for life. He was awfully mobile for a prisoner.

    Sliding a music chip across the bar to the human bartender, she smiled into his leering face. How long has it been since you’ve had real live entertainment?

    You don’t look much like a stripper. Apparently, he wasn’t as drunk as his patrons.

    Mea swung with casual grace onto the counter and leaned in close to him, still smiling. His eyes predictably focused on her breasts. Just play the music, asshole.

    With a shrug, he turned away. The music began and so did she, using her best throaty voice, breathless in all the right places, and dancing with slow, languid enticement down the counter. With a sense of satisfaction, she noticed that she had the bar’s undivided attention, all of them crowding close. But about a quarter of the way through the song, she realized her distraction was going to waste.

    Terrik and the child still stood in the shadows. She gave them more time, but about three-quarters of the way through the song she got sick of being groped for no good reason. They still hadn’t left. Irritated, she paused for too long in one place and a chubby man grabbed her ass. Enough was enough. She would have to save the child another way.

    Any excuse to play rough, she thought with a smirk.

    Casually she backhanded the chubby man. He fell off his stool with the force of her blow. The bar fell silent. He struggled to his feet, roaring through a hand held to his bloody face, and grabbed for her again. You bitch! You broke my—

    She didn’t let him finish, anchoring his arm up behind his back and slamming his face into the counter. Settling one knee on the trapped arm, she leaned forward. Uh-oh, big boy. Your blood is in the water and the sharks are circling.

    Men milled with growing aggression.

    Mea let her gaze sweep over them until she stared directly into her target’s eyes. Must be feeding time. A feral grin stretched her lips when recognition spread over his features.

    Th-the Huntress! he sputtered, struggling to his feet.

    His words brought instant chaos. Typical fight or flight reaction—some of the men shot for the door while others went on the attack, and all of them got in each other’s way.

    This gave her a moment to take her target. Thumb against the dart release in her palm, she flicked her fingers at him in a quick gesture like flicking water off her fingertips. Four darts flew from the rings at the base of her fingers, every one hitting him. He went down like a stone.

    Then the fighting began in earnest. About eight of the twenty or so patrons had converged on her location. She was quite busy for the next few minutes, breaking a face here, cracking a few ribs there, and generally spreading pain and destruction evenly about her. When they threatened her with weapons, she removed them, not using any of her own. She was careful to keep her blows nonfatal. Warren would have a fit if she killed anyone—he was already grumbling in her ear.

    A fierce grin still pulled at her mouth when it was over. Reveling in the controlled violence thrumming through her muscles, she stretched and chuckled, God, I love my job. Stepping over a prone form, she pulled her hair back and clipped it as she bore down on her target.

    Any casualties? Warren sounded disapproving.

    Not yet, she answered and heard him snort. A motion caught her attention and she tensed. Hold on.

    A man rose from a pile of bodies, a knife in each hand. He threw one, going for a chest shot. Quick as a cat, she twisted out of the way, catching the blade and flinging it back at him in one smooth motion. It hit him in the throat but didn’t penetrate all the way. The second knife clattered to the floor harmlessly as he staggered toward her, hands held up to his gushing throat. She buried the knife with a kick to the hilt and he dropped to the floor to finish dying.

    She frowned down at the cut on her hand from the blade. Sloppy.

    What happened?

    One casualty. Mea ignored his muffled swearing, shaking the blood off her hand and approaching her target. The bar was quiet except for a few groans and the agonal gurgles of her kill. Terrik and the girl remained silent in the shadows.

    Her target had fallen on his face and she flipped him over with a ruthless boot. What the hell did you do to me, you bitch! His speech slurred and slobber slicked his chin.

    She sank to a crouch over his chest, resting arms on knees and gazing down at him with a gentle smile. You’re paralyzed. You can’t move, but you will feel everything I do to you. She paused to let that sink in, watching his eyes widen and his mouth quiver. But I don’t really have time for torture, so I’ll make you a deal.

    What d’you want? I’ll give you anything! Anything!

    Mea rocked forward on the balls of her feet to loom over him and stopped smiling. Give me your boss.

    Understanding and fear warred on his face. No. No, I can’t! He’ll kill me!

    She leaned back with a sigh. Well, that’s unfortunate. This means I’ll have to track him down, which gives him a window to bolt. Puts me on a bit of a time crunch, so… She rose as if to leave then paused. Oh, by the way— She sank back into a crouch, lifting her bloody hand and drawing a slow red line down his forehead to the end of his nose while she spoke. The stuff I gave you wears off in about four days. Can you imagine what will happen to you here in four days? What they will do to you, what they will make you do… She shuddered delicately. It doesn’t bear thinking about.

    He started to blubber.

    Oh, now. Don’t fuss. You might actually live through it.

    He began pleading incoherently.

    Mea pulled a tiny vial from her belt and waved it in front of his tearful eyes. On the other hand, I do have an antidote. You should recover in a couple of minutes. She leaned forward again, gripping his face tightly with her bloody hand. If you give me your boss.

    He gave up the man’s location, though she had to make him repeat it three times to understand it through his tears and slurred speech. She gave him the antidote but spared him no sympathy, leaving him sprawled on the grimy floor as she headed for the door. She studiously ignored the two forms in the shadows, promising herself that she would get back to them very soon.

    The girl’s trust made it clear that Terrik hadn’t hurt her yet, and Mea had just made selling the child difficult for him—he’d have a hard time finding a buyer now that a number of the criminal element knew she was stalking the moonbase. That news would spread like wildfire, which meant she had a small window in which to find her quarry and take him down. There would be time afterward to deal with Terrik and the child.

    Warren, immediate extraction.

    I'm already there.

    Mea smiled at the hum of the transport when she stepped outside.

    *******

    Terrik could feel the kid trembling against his arm but wasn’t sure if it was fear or excitement. Half the time she reacted the exact opposite of what he expected. He didn’t know if prison had messed him up that bad or if Regan was just plain strange.

    Then again, he’d never met anyone like that woman either. There must have been a whole lot of changes since he’d been in the world. He’d stayed in the bar out of fascination and sheer, morbid curiosity, but when her playful sensuality changed to deadly grace in a violent heartbeat, he became exquisitely aware that he wasn’t the only dangerous animal on this rock. That only doubled his curiosity—and his fascination.

    He watched her walk out, still holding the girl back in the safety of the shadows. He had to admit that leading Regan here wasn’t one of his brightest ideas. He’d hoped to scare her into not following him anymore while he was out searching for a way off this rock, but the events of the last few rabid minutes proved that strategy too dangerous.

    Scanning the bar until he was satisfied there was no hidden danger, he eased out of the shadows and strode over to the man on the ground. The kid followed him, as usual.

    The man rolled wet eyes and watched Terrik crouch down next to him, spit gathering at the corners of his quivering lips. Please. Please don’t hurt me.

    Terrik eyed the bloody line down his forehead with reluctant interest. Who is she?

    I-I got credit. I can get you anything you want—

    I want to know who she is.

    When Terrik did nothing but stare down at him, the man seemed to gain a little courage. She’s the goddamned Huntress!

    Huntress?

    Yeah. Feck and fire, man, you never heard of the Huntress? Where you been?

    Prison.

    Oh. The man gave a weak, uncertain laugh but gave it up in the face of Terrik’s stoic silence. Clearing his throat, he explained, She’s part of the Hunting Corp, best one they got. They’re bounty hunters with a license to kill—the Coalition’s top enforcers. They get a list of people to bring in, and they go out and hunt ‘em down.

    Not real good news. With a thoughtful grunt, Terrik rose and moved toward the exit.

    Hey! How ‘bout some help here? Could ya drag me to a corner at least…?

    Terrik ignored him.

    Regan scurried to stay by his side and looked up at him with solemn dark eyes. She wasn’t afraid of you.

    Terrik ignored her, too.

    Chapter 2

    Mea gnawed meditatively on a dried protein stick, watching the child. The girl sat on the steps outside of a maze of living quarters, slumped over bent knees and deep in thought. So deep, she probably wouldn’t notice if anyone crept up on her. No sense of self-preservation. But Mea wasn’t the only one watching over her.

    Odd time for a snack, Warren muttered in her ear.

    Dusting off her fingers and sucking the meaty flavor out of the last bite, she ignored him in favor of the enigma across the street.

    After nabbing her other quarry in record time, she’d followed Terrik’s genetic trace from the bar. She’d meant to finish off this night by hunting down the escapee, but now she was feeling a certain disturbing reluctance. Mea had known the child was attached to Terrik from her expression in the bar when she’d called him father. He had protected the girl in the bar and now he was in the doorway to one of those quarters watching over her. There was a bond here that she hadn’t expected from a murderer who had done extremely hard time in the worst holes with the worst kind of people. Curiosity restrained her.

    That and he knew she was there. She had done some research on Terrik and understood the goggles now. In his last prison, Malthat, they’d had a hard-line view of their wards. They had no cells, no separation, and no light. They all resided in a vast, lightless cavern, left to do with each other what they willed. It was the system’s cheap way of executing the worst of the worst. Terrik had been in that hole so long his eyes were extremely sensitive to light. Even moderate light would be painful, but this also meant his night vision was that much more acute.

    So he would see Mea standing in the shadow of the building across the street from them. He wasn’t visible to her, but the genetic tracer outlined his position in deep darkness. He hadn’t moved since she’d appeared.

    With a sigh, Mea straightened. She would approach the child and get their story. If he attacked her and forced her to take him as a target, than so be it. She would leave it in his hands.

    Warren, I’m going offline.

    Do you think that’s such a good idea?

    Probably not, she murmured then shut off the transceiver before he could protest.

    Moving from shadow to the dimly lit street, Mea strode toward the child without stealth, deliberately taking her time. The girl didn’t see her until she was almost upon her, but then she responded as though shot. Scrambling to her feet, she stepped back and almost fell on the stairs.

    Mea halted abruptly. Gently, be careful. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Her mild tone didn’t seem to soothe the girl. Judging by the fear on her face, Mea guessed they’d discovered her identity. She didn’t know the girl’s status, but as a fugitive, Terrik wouldn’t be happy to learn that she was a hunter. So why weren’t they gone yet? Her curiosity tripled. Why are you outside by yourself?

    I was—I was just getting some air.

    Mea raised an eyebrow. The living quarters had better filters than the dingy dome enclosing the moonbase. The air was fresher inside.

    The girl shifted in place, eyes flickering away. How did you find us?

    Luck. I was in the neighborhood. While speaking, Mea took a slow step forward. The girl didn’t run. It’s dangerous out here, child. Especially for you.

    The girl sank into a crouch on the stairs, looking as defeated as before. I know. I just—I just wanted to think is all.

    Another step and Mea had reached the stairs, several feet from the child. Still no motion from the shadows. About what?

    She shrugged then studied Mea. Something lit her eyes and quirked her lips, making her look older than her years. You got a nice voice.

    Mea smiled and sank down on the steps next to her, leaving a comfortable space between them. Thanks. You shouldn’t have been there to see that, though. She got another shrug. Singing was what I was going to do before I became a hunter. May as well get her profession out in the open.

    The girl looked down and plucked at her pants, a faint frown creasing her brow, but her voice was calm. How come you didn’t?

    For some reason, instead of a glib answer, the very private truth of her past slipped out when she opened her mouth. My parents died, killed by very bad men in a very bad way, right in front of me when I was about your age. Those big eyes turned up to her, a deep darkness within them, and Mea felt her chest tighten with an unfamiliar empathy. I wanted to pay them back.

    Did you?

    A hunter did. The same one who found me afterward.

    It had been a long time since she’d even thought about her past let alone spoke of it. Strange, that it didn’t cause as much pain as she’d expected. She watched the child hug her knees. Where are your parents, honey?

    A quick look from the girl reminded her that Terrik was supposed to be her father. Well, my mother died when I was two and my sister Kate raised me. She looked down at her knees and her knuckles went white. But Katie died on the ship.

    And here it is. Mea could tell by the tension in those narrow shoulders and the roughness of her voice that the story was at hand. Her hunting instincts tingled. What ship? she asked softly and refrained from glancing into the darkness behind her.

    Not quite so disciplined, the girl looked into the shadows before shooting a quick, nervous glance at Mea. Um…

    You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.

    She tugged on her earlobe then shrugged. Well, it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just hard.

    Which was the truth, but not the whole truth. Mea tried to suppress a smile while she watched the girl sort through what she should divulge and what she shouldn’t, thoughts flowing in picture-book clarity across her young face.

    My name’s Reggie, by the way.

    Mea Brin. Nice to meet you. Is that short for Regina? She couldn’t stop her grin this time at the disgusted look she received from the girl.

    Short for Regan. How’d you know I wasn’t a boy?

    Using her own tactics against her, Mea just shrugged. It won’t help you here, though. Boy or girl, you’re just as tasty to these freaks.

    Regan scowled down at her feet but said nothing to that. Mea waited. After a quiet moment, her patience paid off.

    We were on a transport ship going to New Amber. My sister is—was a Zenobiologist. She was part of the terraforming team. Her voice turned rough again and Mea could see tears on her long lashes. Some guy—I don’t know what was the matter with him. Maybe space sickness. He started killing off everybody in their cryotubes. The ship woke up the crew, but by then most of the passengers were dead. And they couldn’t stop him. He had guns and he was just…

    She paused with a shudder, eyes squeezing shut. He changed course so we were headed into a star then killed the ship so it couldn’t stop. The crew tried to change course, but he started hunting us down. Kate and—and my father tried to give them time, tried to lead him away, chase him down, stop him. But they got cornered. Katie took the shot that would have killed my father. Then he killed the guy. We got away in an escape pod, but we saw the ship go into the sun.

    The bleak tone and the tears streaming down her face made Mea’s chest hurt and her breath hitch. She didn’t understand why the girl’s pain should cut at her so, but she couldn’t just leave it—she had to try and ease her suffering. Without thought, she touched a soothing hand to the girl’s back. Honey, I’m so sorry— and was yanked to her feet by a fist knotted in her hair, a knife pressing against her throat. The pain in her scalp negated any thrill she felt at not having sensed Terrik’s approach again.

    I said hands off.

    Hissing, she arched her body to try to relieve the pressure and snarled at him. "Where the hell have you been? I could have killed her

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