Hunter's Edge

Some love can last a lifetime—their love was destined to last longer.

Angel’s first words to Kel were I’m going to marry you. She was seven at the time. He was eight. And he didn’t laugh when she spoke the words. Best friends as children, lovers as young adults, they had an unexplainable bond. Their future looked set. Until the night they were attacked by a creature that couldn’t exist.

Angel survived the attack—barely. But Kel didn’t. Or at least, nobody thought he did. His body was never found and Angel’s life would never be the same.

The attack might not have killed Kel’s body, but it sure as hell killed his heart. Twelve years later, there’s one part of his former life that he can’t move past. Angel. He can’t let her go, but he can’t have her either. She doesn’t even realize he is still alive.

But when a threat surfaces, Kel’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect Angel. Even if it drives them both to the edge of insanity and back.

Warning: Some violence. Some sex. Some bloody violence. Even a little bit of bloody sex. Not all of the sex is between the hero and the heroine, even though every time that happens, the hero closes his eyes and thinks of England Angel. Not exactly a traditional romance, but I promise it does end HEA.

Published by Shiloh Walker

© Shiloh Walker

Initial Publication 2008

Second Publication 2017

Cover © Shiloh Walker

Cover Design, Fonts from PicMonkey

Cover Image © Igor Borodin via Bigstock Images

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Hunter’s Edge

Shiloh Walker

Chapter One

Age 8

I’m gonna marry you.

Kelvin Saunders blushed beet-red as all his friends started to laugh. It was the kiss of death for an eight-year-old boy, having some girl come up and say something like that in front of his friends.

Part of him, that embarrassed part, jeered at him to say something to her, make fun of her, anything to get the kids around them laughing at her—instead of him.

But Kel couldn’t. He wasn’t even really sure why. But he just couldn’t.

He knew who she was—her name was Angelica something or other. She was new in town, had moved into a house not too far from where he lived. A thin strip of trees separated their neighborhoods—that, and a lot of money, according to Jill Baker, the fifteen-year-old that watched him on Friday nights when his parents had date night.

Angelica gazed at him with eyes the same pretty blue as the September sky, her hair pulled back into two neatly braided pigtails. She wore a pink T-shirt with a pair of spotless white shorts. Man, Kel couldn’t wear anything white without getting dirt all over it. The new girl, though, she looked all shiny, neat and clean. Even her tennis shoes looked brand new. She smiled at him, showing perfectly straight teeth, and her nose crinkled.

Denny Mayhue punched Kel’s arm. You got a girlfriend, Kel?

Defensively, Kel snapped, No. But then he looked back at the girl. She was embarrassing him, big time, but as much as he wanted to retaliate, he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t do something that would hurt her feelings.

She gave him a secretive smile, a smile that said she knew something nobody else did, and maybe, just maybe, she wanted to tell him. My name’s Angel… She rolled her eyes and made a face. Actually, it’s Angelica, after my dad’s mom. She died before I was born. I really hate being called Angelica and she did, too, or that’s what my dad says. So he calls me Angel. And Mom hates it.

She prattled on, ignoring the boys who were still grinning at both her and Kel, and the girls who had been behind her when she announced she was going to marry him. They’d started giggling but now, as she ignored them, they wandered off. Kel’s friends lost interest, heading for the basketball court, leaving him alone with Angel/Angelica as she talked.

And man, did she talk. She talked fast, she talked about everything, and she didn’t even seem to care that he wasn’t talking back. Scuffing his feet in the dirt, Kel told himself he needed to just go find his friends and maybe play basketball for a few more minutes. Recess didn’t last forever and after this, he still had two and half hours before school let out.

But he realized he couldn’t quite pull himself away.

Even when Mrs. Gumble blew her whistle, announcing the end of recess, Kel didn’t want to walk away. It wasn’t until she grinned at him and said, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, that he could even move.

He was still puzzling the girl over in his mind as he lined up to go back into school. She lined up in Mrs. Romero’s line and gave him a sweet smile.

Denny nudged him from behind. You got a girlfriend, he said again.

But Kel just ignored him.

Age 14

You’ve got to learn to ignore people, Kel, Angel said, sighing and shaking her head as she touched her fingers to his swollen black eye.

He batted her hand away. Stop it, Angel. That hurts.

Why did you get into a fight this time?

Shrugging, he turned away and went to study his face in the mirror hanging over the back of the couch. They’d gone to Angel’s house—her parents both worked pretty late—and he’d hoped he could have a few minutes to think up some believable line for his mom.

So far, no luck. And there was no way she wasn’t going to notice his shiner, either. Still fuming, he glared at his reflection.

The mirror showed a tall, lanky boy with dark brown hair that curled if he didn’t keep it cut close, green eyes surrounded by long, thick lashes that he hated. Days spent in the sun had turned his skin a deep, golden tan and streaked his dark hair with lighter strands. If he wasn’t so damn pissed about the fight—and worrying about how his mother was going to freak—he might have taken a minute to admire the black eye. His face had gotten him called pretty boy more than once.

Much as he hated that, he could ignore it easy enough.

If he could have ignored it when Denny started making fun of Angel, he wouldn’t be in this mess. But…

Kel. Angel’s voice, soft and patient, jerked him back to attention.

Man, he hated when she talked like that, all grown up and polite and persistent. Scowling, he turned around and stared at her with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. That jerk-off Denny said you were weird. I told him to shut up. He got in my face. I hit him.

Kel…I am weird.

No, you’re not, he snapped, his hands clenching into fists. He hated when people talked about her like that—hated when she did it herself. Angel wasn’t weird—she just wasn’t… She just wasn’t like everybody else.

She wasn’t like anybody else.

Angel grinned at him and said, Just because you say it doesn’t make it true, Kel. Then she shrugged. Kel, I don’t want you getting into fights over me. You keep it up and you’ll get in trouble with your folks. Or worse. Her lip poked out a little and she murmured, I don’t want you getting in trouble.

Man…

She climbed off the couch and walked over to stand in front of him, near enough that he could smell the cherry lip gloss she wore, close enough that he could just barely see the shadow of her bra strap through her T-shirt. Angel was tall for a girl, almost as tall as he was, and Kel wasn’t short. She leaned and kissed him, quick and soft. Blood rushed to his face but before she could move away, he reached out and caught her hand, tugged her close.

It was scary, the way he felt about Angel. It had been like this ever since he’d met her. I’m gonna marry you. He hadn’t ever forgotten those words. And even though she hadn’t ever said them again, Kel had a feeling she was right. It was almost creepy even thinking about.

He wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled against him with a happy sigh. I don’t like people talking about you, he said, his voice cracking a little.

Ignore them, Kel. I don’t care what people say. I really don’t.

Age 15

The pain hit him square in the chest, like a ton of bricks. Or worse, like his wrestling coach had decided to let the heavyweights use him for target practice. It woke him from a dead sleep, pressing down on him so hard, he couldn’t breathe, could hardly move. Rolling to his side, he shoved his arms under him and managed to force himself onto his hands and knees.

What the…

Another spasm hit him and when it passed, Kel didn’t have to ask what again. He knew. It was Angel. He could feel her. It was crazy, the way they were so in tune with each other, the way one seemed to know when the other was hurting or mad.

This was unreal, though, vicious enough to make him want to puke from it. Angel…

Almost like she heard him, some of the weight on his chest eased, just enough that he was able to get out of bed and drag on whatever clothes came to his hand. He probably should try to go out the bedroom window—if his parents heard him leaving the house again, they’d freak.

But he didn’t trust his shaking hands or legs enough to climb down without breaking his neck, so he shuffled through the house as quietly as he could. When the door closed behind him, he breathed out a sigh of relief.

I’m coming, Angel. His friends would think he was crazy—hell, half of them thought that already anyway. Rain started to fall as he took a well-worn path through the trees. Their subdivisions backed up against the other and only about a half a mile and a bunch of evergreens, maple and oak trees separated him from Angel. Usually, the walk was a breeze, even at night. Right now, it was taking forever.

When he emerged from the trees, he wasn’t surprised to see Angel sitting on the back deck, wearing one of his T-shirts, a pair of panties and not much else. With her knees drawn up to her chest, she sat there, shaking and crying. He mounted the steps slowly and when he held out his arms, she came to him and the quiet tears turned into harsh, ugly sobs.

Holding her close, he rocked her. His chest ached in sympathy with the force of her sobs—he felt them as though it was him crying. When the storm of grief finally eased, he had tears of his own running down his cheeks. She looked up at him, her pretty face drenched with tears, her eyelids puffy and swollen.

She sniffed a little, tried to speak. It took a couple of tries because her voice kept breaking. It’s my dad, she whispered, snuggling up against him, burying her face against his worn-out fleece jacket. My dad’s dead—he had a…car…wreck.

No words were going to take that kind of pain away and Kel didn’t see the point in trying. Instead, he picked her up and settled down on the deck stairs and held her as she started to sob again.

As night slowly bled into dawn, Angel fell asleep in his arms. She shivered a little, but if he tried to get her inside, he worried she’d wake up. Instead, he managed to unzip his jacket and pull it off, covering her up as best he could.

That was how his dad found him. Jacob Saunders came through the trees and when he saw Kel sitting there, holding Angel while she slept, all Jake did was sigh and shake his head. Kel sat there as his dad climbed the steps and settled on the step below them.

Sheriff Rogers just called me with the news. Wanted me to come and sit with Angel. Her mama… Jake never had a mean word for anybody. Even when he was madder than hell at Kel, he managed to keep his voice level. The disappointment Kel would see in his dad’s eyes was worse than the yelling anyway. A minister at the local church, Jake was kind, considerate—too kind and considerate to say the truth out loud.

Her mama is probably off whining and wailing and doesn’t give a da—crap that she left Angel here alone, Kel said, quietly. He couldn’t keep the anger out of it, though. Ann Mathis-Pierson cared about exactly one person in this world—herself.

Now Kel, her husband is dead, Jake said quietly, glancing down at Angel’s face.

Angel slept like the dead, though, and Kel knew she wasn’t going to wake up any time soon. She was like a limp dishrag in his arms, her breathing soft, slow and deep, her body warm against his under the cover of the jacket he’d draped over her.

Yeah, her dad is dead. So why was Angel here alone? In the middle of the night? Kel demanded.

Angel stirred in his arms and automatically, Kel lifted a hand, brushed her hair back from her face. Lowering his voice, he asked, Do you know what happened?

Troy tells me that Paul was heading home—outside of Nashville. Kid was driving along beside him and changed lanes, didn’t see him. Ran him off the road—Paul most likely died instantly.