Page 1 of Immortal Hunter
Chapter One
Ewan
Tryingto break in to the row house through the second-floor window probably wasn’t the smartest idea he’d ever had, but if any of his fellow Hunters were home, he wouldn’t make it back out alive.
Ewan balanced on the small ledge, eased up the sash, and then almost lost his balance as a car honked two streets over. Tumbling arse over tit into the bedroom he’d shared with Nigel for the past ten years, he cringed. Anyone in the house would certainly come to investigate the noise. He had to hurry.
Grabbing his duffel bag, he shoved all his street clothes—not that there were many—his Ma’s rosary, his Da’s pocket watch, and the small envelope of cash he’d hidden in a slit in his mattress.
He was almost out the window again when he turned back, rummaged in his mostly empty dresser, and snagged a silver chain, his backup pocket knife, and his lock picks.
The window slammed, so much louder than he’d intended, and he inched his way towards the drain pipe. As he slid down to the ground, the front door of the Hunters’ house burst open. “Ewan! Get back here!”
Arthur, Tommy’s father, ran into the street, but Ewan was faster. He sprinted around the corner, down an alley, and ducked into a crowded pub. Weaving his way through the people shouting at the football match on the big-screen telly, he ducked his head. At six-foot-four, he wasn’t the tallest bloke in the room, but Arthur would be able to pick him out of any crowd.
The Dublin Hunters ran training exercises weekly in stealth and pursuit, and Ewan figured he only had about a two-minute head start on Arthur.
His mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do next. He had no passport, no credit card, no bank account. When Arthur had adopted him nineteen years ago after the car accident that had killed his parents, he’d locked Ewan’s passport away in the house safe. Stupidly, Ewan had trusted the man, even thought of him as a second father and Tommy, his brother.
Until the two had gone rogue and tried to imprison Riley Scott, a pretty doctor with a unique blood disorder and a magical heritage. They’d wanted to keep her hidden away for the rest of her life, harvesting her blood in an attempt to kill the Hunters’ mortal enemies—vampires.
But Declan Bonney, one of the oldest vampires in Ireland, had claimed Riley as his mate, and had found Tommy’s hideout just as Ewan was trying to help Riley escape. Declan was a legend, and before Riley, he’d rarely left his castle—one of the reasons the Hunters had never gone after him. At least Riley was safe with Declan. If only Ewan felt the same.
Now, Nigel, Tommy, and Kevin were all dead, and if Arthur didn’t already blame Ewan, he would soon. His life was now worth less than the lucky penny he habitually carried in his back pocket.
Slipping out the back door and into the night, Ewan glanced at the bus station. He could get anywhere in the country from there, but that wouldn’t keep him safe. He needed to get to America or somewhere else in Europe. A big city with enough people to allow him to disappear.
An hour later, after making so many turns through the town he couldn’t remember which streets he’d already traversed more than once, he found himself at the docks, staring up at the tall ships silhouetted against the pre-dawn sky. Could he make it onto one of them? Sail away to another country?
Giant ropes and cables secured the ships to their moorings, and Ewan slung his duffel across his body. He could climb. The ship directly in front of him looked to be registered in Canada, and the thick cable anchoring it to the dock disappeared into a hole large enough for a man to fit through.
No telling what he’d find once he reached that hole, but it had to be better than a certain death at the hands of the rest of his house.
With a quick prayer that he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life, he wrapped his arms and legs around the wide metal cable and started to climb.
* * *
The ocean journeytook nine days. Ewan spent most of them heaving into one of the heads next to a room with a bunch of loud and smelly equipment. He’d found a set of lockers before the ship had set off, and one of them had provided him with a stash of jerky and granola bars. Not that he could keep much down.
Water…that was simpler. Inside the noisy room, an emergency eyewash station and sink had provided him with the ability to wash off the day’s sick and stench and drink his fill.
The room was almost quiet now. The ship had docked hours ago, and from the small crack in his hiding place’s door, he watched the last rays of the setting sun fade away. He’d wait until after midnight. Well…what he thought was midnight. They’d obviously crossed several time zones on the trip. Then he’d find a way down.
* * *
Montreal.Too big. Too loud. Ewan tried for a week to find his way, but with only three hundred euro to his name, he struggled to even secure a safe place to sleep. Worse, everywhere he applied for a job wanted official government-issued identification.
“St. John’s,” the guy on the cot next to him in the hostel whispered as Ewan tried to give himself a muttered pep talk.
“What?”
The man rose up on an elbow and fixed Ewan with a stare that seemed to cut right through him. His eyes were almost golden, his hair scruffy and long, and he stank like he hadn’t bathed in a month. But he offered Ewan a nod and repeated, “St. John’s. Newfoundland. You’ll find yourself a job there. They don’t ask questions as long as you’re not a drunkard or an ass.”
“If it’s so great, why aren’t ya’ there?”
With a chuckle, the vagrant shook his head. “Because I ain’t welcome, Hunter. Nor are your kind. But as long as you keep your head down and stop the killing, you’ll find peace there. Best hurry, though. There’s something coming. The wind today carries the scent of black magic. You don’t want to be here when it hits.”
Shock sent the hair on his arms prickling, and he sat up, then, despite his better judgement, leaned closer to the man and narrowed his eyes. “Yer not a vampire. Nor fae. Shifter?”
