The Claimed (Sin Hunters) Page 5
“Christopher Sombrosa,” he said, more in introduction than answer, and then rattled off his own phone number. He wondered about her interest as the woman’s lips moved as if she, too, was trying to remember his information.
With that task completed, the Coast Guard leader issued final instructions to his men and the two of them. “We’ll take the boat owners with the injured man, record and preserve the accident scene, and then bring the boat and Jet Ski back to the station. Do you two need transport?”
Christopher jerked his head in the direction of the shoreline, where Ryan stood less than fifty feet away, vigilant. “I can swim it.”
“My kayak is…” The woman began, but then swiveled her head around, searching. As he followed her gaze, he realized that the current had taken the small vessel to land not far from where he and Ryan had beached their skiff.
“I can swim to my kayak as well.” She glanced at him, still hesitant. Christopher was likewise experiencing some doubt due to the power he had experienced at her side.
“We can buddy up.” Part statement, part question.
“That makes sense,” she replied, but uneasily.
He took a risk and assumed the lead, walking to her side and then jumping into the water. She dove cleanly off the edge and came up a few feet away from him.
No vortex, this time, he thought, just a measured freestyle swim to shore, keeping an eye on her beside him. Making sure she was with him during the swim until they were in waist-high water. They popped up and stood facing each other. The swim had removed all traces of blood. With the very visible evidence of the accident erased, his attention was instead snared by her sheer beauty.
She was tall for a woman, at least six feet of elegant female lines. Only half a head smaller than him. Athletically lean, but curvy where it counted. Wide hips and full breasts were made to be touched and he had to clench his hands to keep from doing just that.
“Are you okay?” he asked as they trudged through the water toward where Ryan stood on the beach. His cadre captain had corralled her kayak and it now rested just a few feet away from their skiff.
“Fine, just a little… shaken.”
Understandable. It wasn’t often a human nearly watched another human die. If she was human, that is. For him, the possibility of death lived with him daily, whether from attack by another Hunter or from an unexpected loss of energy.
“You did an amazing job of first aid. If he lives—”
“I pray that he does,” she asserted, clearly disturbed by the prospect that he might not.
“When he does, it’ll be thanks to you.” He downplayed his own contribution, not wanting to call attention to the power he had expended to seal part of the wound. Telling himself that he had imagined the other tendrils of energy since there was nothing about this stunning woman that was screaming Hunter at the moment.
Victoria nodded and paused to dip back beneath the surface and scrub, feeling as if the teen’s blood continued to coat her skin. There had been so much of it, sickly sticky with a metallic smell. The smell of death.
When she popped back up and dragged her hair back off her face, he was still there, waiting for her. The water lapped against a totally impressive chest and broad swimmer’s shoulders. She slowly explored that tempting physique before finally moving her gaze back up to his face. Heat flooded through her at the interest in his dark eyes and at the masculine splendor of his features, even better close up than they had been from a distance.
High cheekbones and a sharp slash of a nose. Full lips and a strong jaw with a thumbprint cleft at his chin.
Perfection, she thought, as they slogged out of the water and onto the shore. His long legs were well-muscled and flared into lean hips below a washboard midsection. Every inch of him was a creamy olive color, with a smattering of dark hair along the broad swells of his chest and tapering down toward…
She gulped at the thick ridge revealed by the board shorts he wore and yanked her head back up to the wide width of his shoulders.
The physical beauty of his body alleviated the concern that she had about the very dim outline of energy surrounding his body. If he was a Shadow, there would have been some hint of the pox that had contaminated the Dark Ones centuries earlier. Whether a noticeable red rash or an outbreak of the raised angry pustules, the illness would be there somewhere. It was unheard of for Shadows not to have some visible hint of the disease either on their bodies or as dark smudges and threads of pestilence in their auras.
Once they were out of the water, another man approached, almost as handsome, although not as tall. Also, where the man who had identified himself as Christopher was deliciously and dangerously dark, this man was golden as light, with strawberry blond hair, ice-blue eyes, and an easy smile that radiated warmth.
He handed both of them towels and asked Christopher, “Do you need me to do anything?”
Christopher shook his head and then slicked back the wet locks of his coal black hair. “I’m okay, Ryan.” Then he looked toward her, his gaze alive with emotion, although she wasn’t sure if it was concern or caution. “We can row you back to the mainland if you’d like.”
Victoria wagged her head and then stuck her hand out in his friend’s direction. “Victoria Johnson.”
“Ryan Adams,” the golden man said, continuing to pump her hand until his friend almost growled to warn him away. The prolonged contact, however, served to ease yet more of her tension. No buzz of unusual energy had occurred during their contact.
“Sorry,” Ryan said and released his hold, jerking his thumb in the direction of the skiff. “I’ll get it ready to go, otherwise we’ll be battling the tide later.”
When he left, Victoria returned her attention to Christopher. He was standing there, examining her intently as he briskly rubbed a towel across that too-enticing body. “I can paddle my way back, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Not a problem. Would you mind if I called you later? Just to see if you got home safely?” Christopher asked and draped the towel around his neck.
“I own ‘It’s a Shore Thing Surf and Sail.’ You can find me there.” Considering her fantasies from the night before, she would not pass up the opportunity to explore her physical attraction to him, although she cautioned herself to stay vigilant about the possible power she had perceived in him.
His full lips broke into a boyish, but guarded grin, and he nodded.
“I’ll make sure to do that,” he said and then walked off to where Ryan had the skiff’s stern at the water’s edge, all set to go.
Victoria strode to her kayak and got it into the water. She climbed in as the two men jumped into the boat. It took them a moment to get the oars locked into the rowlocks, but then they dipped the oars into the water. With rhythmic powerful pulls, they headed down the waterway toward the ocean. Muscular back and shoulder muscles were fluid as they easily propelled the craft with the current, their bodies in picture-perfect sync as they rowed.
Victoria was heading in a different direction, up the river slightly and across the water to reach the dock behind her home and shop. The movement of the tide would be against her now, making it a more difficult paddle. Although she had the strength and stamina to battle the current, the accident had put her behind schedule. She was supposed to meet her parents at her home for yet another discussion about Adam Bruno. They would be angry if they discovered she had gone so far out into the waterways without Rafael’s protection in one way or another. Because of his earlier comments about always being there, she had been much more vigilant about sensing him, checking the slight breeze wafting along the water to see if he had sent his energy to stand guard, but he had not. At least not this time.
She didn’t know why she was suddenly finding it disconcerting to think that some part of him was always watching over her. Maybe she was getting too human as her parents feared. Rafael was only doing the job he had been selected to do. As the captain of her half-dozen cadre members, he was supposed to make sure s
he was safe.
And she was supposed to be home already, she reminded herself since she was running late.
Laying the kayak paddle across her knees, she splayed her hands on the surface of the water and visualized a water flow similar to the whirlwind she had used to speed through the ocean. Her actions created a constantly moving rotation of water beneath the kayak. Immediately the craft burst into motion, the circling flow pulling it forward much like a paddle wheel would a larger vessel.
Victoria grabbed the paddle and began the traditional crisscross rowing motion, adding yet more speed with her efforts while also disguising what was going on along the water’s surface from prying eyes. Light Hunters went to too much trouble to hide their existence from humans and Shadow Hunters for her to allow a too obvious show of power to give them away. Such visible displays were always problematic, but more so in light of the recent Shadow attack on Adam.
Clearly the Shadows were searching for Light Hunters in the area, seeking ways to steal their energy in order to repair the damage the pox did to their bodies. She probably should have brought Rafael with her, but she had needed the solitude after the funeral.
The love between Adam and Bobbie had her wondering about her own wish to find such devotion, especially since it was possible for her Equinox to rise up any time soon.
As Victoria paddled, she considered the various men in her Light Hunter clan, but she could not imagine spending the rest of her life with any of them. Not to mention that they all lacked the gift of hunting. Without that ability, a union with one of those Hunters was no more beneficial to the continuation of the clan than mating with a Hybrid, as Adam had done.
She was almost beginning to suspect that mating with a Hybrid might be even more beneficial as she recalled the incredible power she had sensed around Bobbie Carrera. Maybe Hybrids were capable of gathering energy, only no one had bothered to find that out before. If a Hybrid could be taught to do that, such a mating might bolster the clan’s resources and allow her people to restore their life forces.
Which made her think of Christopher.
A slight sheen of energy had shimmered around him at one point, and she had definitely sensed non-human powers when he had laid his hands on the injured young man. Although it had seemed that he was unaware of his abilities, maybe with training they could be improved. Maybe even to the point where it would be possible for him to be as powerful as Bobbie Carrera had somehow become.
Not that she knew enough about Christopher to even go down that route, but certainly such a Hybrid mating was a possibility, she thought once more as she propelled herself across the water, hoping to beat her parents to her home.
But as she rounded the river bend after crossing the estuary, the whisper of a breeze colored with Rafael’s energy warned her that she was too late.
A few strokes later she had a direct line of sight to her home. Her parents and a stern-looking Rafael were positioned on the small rise of land just beyond the dock, scanning the waters for her.
Snagged, she thought, and girded herself for the confrontation.
CHAPTER
6
Christopher parked himself before the map in his office, reviewing the pins marking those locations where they had detected remnants of the intense Light Hunter power that had suddenly appeared in the area months earlier. Although his father wanted the energy font primarily to feed himself, Christopher was more interested in identifying the why of how such vitality existed. He hoped that by understanding he could use similar hunting practices to enhance his own power without awakening the pox that contaminated the Shadow Hunters.
With the rules he had set for himself and his own cadre, namely no feeding from the humans or any other Hunters, they had already been able to contain the regular emergence of the pox rash and pustules that had been ravaging Shadow Hunter bodies for centuries. That was not to say they had fully eradicated the contamination. During times of stress or weakness the pox sometimes returned, but Christopher believed that by adhering to the old ways of only hunting from the natural energies around them, it was just a matter of time before they eliminated the illness from their systems.
Finding the Light Hunter source might speed that along.
He was contemplating the last places he and Ryan had experienced traces of the power when a knock came at the door. Even from his desk he detected the unique signature of Ryan’s newly charged life force, gilded with the warmth of the sun. Within the confines of their enclave, he and the other members of his cadre didn’t hide their natural auras or affinities, making it easy to sense who was nearby.
“Come in,” he called out, and Ryan entered. His normally easy-going features were set in hard lines, signaling his displeasure with something or someone.
“You have news to report?” Christopher asked, arching a dark brow.
“You asked us to monitor all communications in and out of the compound,” Ryan said, and at the roll of Christopher’s index finger, he continued. “Maya placed a call to your father late this morning. It wasn’t very long, but I thought you should know.”
He had expected as much. Maya might have come with him, but he suspected that she wasn’t convinced that Christopher’s way was right. Plus, his father still controlled the bulk of their Hunters, nearly a hundred across the metropolitan area. That gave Alexander immense power and Maya always followed power.
Somehow he had to use her continued connection to his father to try to keep an eye on Alexander and his plans for the clan.
“I need someone to watch her. Maybe even befriend her,” he said as he offered up options for Ryan to consider.
“Maya will only be friends with those who she thinks have something that she can use. I cannot think of any clan members that Maya would consider—”
“Except you,” Christopher replied and clapped his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. With a reassuring squeeze, he continued. “You are my right-hand man and privy to everything that I do. Together we can decide just what information to feed Maya.”
“Or discover just how much she knows about Alexander and what he wants.”
“Exactly,” Christopher confirmed and patted his friend on the shoulder.
Ryan walked toward the pinned board and glanced at the meticulously plotted locations where they had sensed the Quinchu power. He pointed to the map and looked over his shoulder at Christopher. “So what misinformation do you want me to relay to your ex?”
“Actually, I want you to tell her the truth about what we suspect happened with my father’s two cadre members. Maya may know what they were doing in the area. If we’re lucky, she may let that information slip and provide us some leads,” Christopher advised.
“And what would be my reason for giving her the information and being so chummy?” Ryan pressed.
“Something that she would believe—that you’re concerned we may be attacked in the same fashion. That you wish you knew more about the reason Alexander’s men were visiting in the hopes of finding out who vaporized them.”
“It’s not a lie to say that I’m worried about how they were killed. It took a great deal of power and the incident was not far from our compound.” With one finger, Ryan circled the pins tacked into the map at the spot near the Sea Girt lighthouse where they had sensed the residues of powerful blasts of Quinchu energy. The human authorities had carried away two large blobs of glass the next morning, thinking that they were fulgurites created by an extreme lightning strike on the sand.
Christopher and he believed they were the crystallized remains of Alexander’s men.
“The battle was very close, but in truth, I’m more concerned about an attack from my father than from the Light Ones. That hasn’t happened in quite some time.”
Ryan inclined his head in agreement. “So what will you be doing while I’m ingratiating myself to Maya?”
Christopher shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Did you sense Victoria’s power earlier?”
Ryan shrugged nonchalantly. “I wasn’t sure about it.”
“I wasn’t either, but if she does have power… I’m not certain what she is or if she can be trusted,” Christopher admitted, still battling his attraction to her.
Arching a brow, Ryan asked, “So what do you propose we do?”
Smiling tightly, Christopher considered what little he knew about Victoria as well as what he planned to discover. “I intend to find out more about her. Find out if she’s friend or foe.”
“And if she’s a Light Hunter?”
With a casual shrug that hid the unease in his gut about that possibility, he said, “Eliminating her would be the most logical action.”
Ryan’s nod, slow and almost hesitant, communicated more than his words. “Logical, but brutal.”
Brutal being a trait usually attributed to his father and not to him. Christopher likewise hesitated, contemplating other possibilities before finally offering another option.
“What if she’s a Light Hunter we can befriend?”
Ryan snorted in disbelief. “A friendly Light Hunter? Isn’t that an oxymoron?”
“They probably think the same of us, but what if it was possible?” Peace between their people once more. Cooperation instead of conflagration.
“Are you thinking with your head or your—”
“A pretty face alone is not enough for me to risk you and our clan, Ryan,” he shot back, annoyed.
Ryan raised his hands in surrender. “I don’t doubt that whatever decision you make will be for the good of our people.”
“Good,” Christopher replied and motioned back to the map on the wall. “Then let’s get back to this.”
Although he and Ryan returned to reviewing their possible options for finding the Quinchu source of energy, Victoria’s power and the risk it presented loomed large in the back of Christopher’s mind. But he told himself one thing as he and his friend worked.
Today was a different day. The old rules no longer applied now that he and his people had left Alexander and their clan, and because of that, their future held infinite possibilities.