Page 32 of Beautiful Prey

“Later when?”

“Don’t you worry.” He turns away. “I’ll find you.”

“No.” It’s out before I can stop it. “I paid one toll today. I’m not taking on debt from a man who won’t even show me his face.”

He is quiet for a moment. “Good. Then take the free advice. Sleep somewhere unreasonable tonight. Stay off the ridgelines. Firelight carries for kilometers. And remember, after dark...” He doesn’t look back. “The candidates start doing my job for me.”

Then he’s gone.

He offered to remove a man for me. Said it the way you’d offer to carry a bag. And the thing that turns my stomach, standing here in the wet with a dead man already behind me, isn’t that he meant it.

It’s that I didn’t say no quickly enough.

The forest has completely closed behind him, and I’m still standing exactly where he left me. For the first time since the ridge, I’m not afraid of the Hunt.

I’m afraid of the one who’s decided I’m worth watching.

6

ASH

Fuck me. Isn’t he a snack? My prey.

And a liar too.

I watch him disappear through the trees, shoulders hunched beneath that oversized pack. He reached the checkpoint late enough to catch the little fight at the scanner, but I’d already given the order not to put him in it. He got shooed back into the forest instead, soaked through and furious.

Exactly where I wanted him.

After our little conversation, I let him get a head start before I follow.

Nobody refuses my offers.

Then again, he didn’t really understand mine, did he? I offered him protection, and he started talking about money. Cute. What the fuck did he think I was looking for when I asked what he’d give me?

There’s something about this Onyx Mercer, or whatever his real name is, that has gotten under my skin.

The fucking pet thing isn’t helping.

Dad has already decided who I’ll marry, where I’ll go and what I’ll be useful for when the time comes. I’ve spent years trying not to think about being handed over for some treaty. Never once have I looked at another person and thought I wanted something of my own badly enough to fight for it.

Then this lying little Calder bastard turns up.

And now I can’t stop picturing a collar around his throat.

I watched those three take his tablets this morning, the big one pinning him to a tree while the tall one went through his pack. Could’ve stopped it, but I wanted to see what he would do.

He fought for his pack. Ran for it. Killed for it. He knows I saw what happened. What he doesn’t know is how much I enjoyed watching him stop being soft for five fucking minutes.

I’d gladly take out the brick who put his hands on him tonight and enjoy every second of it. But my pretty prey still thinks I’m asking for money.

He’ll learn.

A hundred yards ahead, he pushes through the trees, stepping around the deeper mud and ducking beneath low branches. Twice he looks back. Once he circles around a fallen trunk and stands listening before moving on.

He never sees me.

Careful enough to make it through another night, but not careful enough for me.