Huntress Chronicles
Best Seller
FIRST CHAPTER
Private Investigator,
Kat Monroe, is a woman to be reckoned with, an inborn huntress with predatory
speed and lightning fast reflexes. Now a sadistic killer has her in his sights.
Aiming to take her forward in time, where she’ll be forced to fight in a gladiatorial
arena.
Enter Max and Brett Jericho, time traveling supercops on
assignment to bring the killer to justice. Even as her world becomes deadlier,
Kat is blown away by the gorgeous, future cops. When they all end up in bed
together, each man fulfills Kat’s long suppressed desires.
Determined to beat the killer at his own game, Kat opts to
travel to the future and set herself up as bait. With her shifter supercops
watching her back, what could possibly go wrong?
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Huntress For Hire
Copyright © 2012 Ali Atwood
ISBN: 978-1-77111-110-2
Cover art by Angela Waters
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Huntress For Hire
Huntress Chronicles One
By
Ali Atwood
Chapter One
Boston Massachusetts.
Present day
“Hey, I’m back. Flew the redeye in from LA and met a great guy
on the plane.”
The words came through Kat Monroe’s earpiece
as she gunned her SUV through an orange traffic light. Steel-belted radials
screeched as she edged her way between a belching metro bus and a suicidal bike
messenger.
Finding humor in the madness, Kat’s husky
laughter rippled through the cell link. “Hey, bestie, welcome home. I’m
battling a traffic jam from hell here. Did you say you’d met a new guy?”
* * * *
“Yes, he’s a freelance photojournalist who lives here in Boston.
Hold on…” Switching her cell phone to her other ear, Lora Harrison retrieved
her luggage from the carousel and walked from the terminal building to wait for
the airport limo. “I gave him my number and we’ll see if he calls.” She sat on
a bench, stretching out her shapely legs. “So dish, Monroe. What’s happening
with you?”
* * * *
Kat blew out a breath. “Same old, working my ass off trying to
sign new clients.”
The women had hooked-up in college and stayed
best friends, despite the fact that they were polar opposites in looks and
temperament. Kat, an ex-cop turned private investigator, verged on Amazonian
proportions, standing a little over six feet. She had silvery-gray eyes accentuated
by her dark, sable hair. She was feminine enough to wear it long though she
normally braided it for work. Since she’d been forced to conceal a large part
of herself from an early age, she could appear aloof at times.
Lora Harrison, an executive chef for a large,
catering company, had just returned from a short, business trip to Southern
California. A petite, blue-eyed blonde with a bubbling personality and
boundless energy, she was nothing if not forthright.
“Stopping stalling, Monroe, I want deets.
Have you done the naked deed with anyone since you dumped Josh?”
Passing a high-sided truck, Kat slowed for
red light. Her expressive face moving into grimace. “Nada on the sex.”
“Huh. So what is it now, four months?”
“Closer to six and a half.”
Prior to resigning from the Boston PD to open
her own investigation agency, Kat had dated Josh Harper, a fellow homicide
detective. Though he was fifteen years older than Kat with craggy features that
couldn’t be called handsome, he kept his tall, rangy body in good shape and Kat
enjoyed his keen sense of humor. Three months into the relationship, Kat walked
into the supply room early one morning to find Nancy Murphy, from human
resources, on her knees with Josh’s dick in her mouth.
The episode hadn’t been a heartbreaker, since
Kat’s heart hadn’t been on the line. Still, she had expected the affair to
remain exclusive for as long as it lasted. Since she couldn’t avoid running
into Harper on the job, she’d put up a good front. But the incident had played
on her insecurities. Lately, she’d begun to wonder if there were any men out
there worth shaving her legs for.
“What you need now, girl, is a well-hung guy
to erase the memory of that asshole. And since I’ll be in town for a while, I
can help you prowl for a likely candidate.”
Kat released a heavy sigh. “Truthfully, Lora,
the only thing I want to pursue at present are my career goals.” Her outgoings
in the last few months had done some serious damage to her bank account. She
needed to pull in some lucrative contracts. “You know as well as I do that a
woman trying to build a reputation in a male dominated profession has to work
twice as hard to win even a modicum of respect.”
Lora made sympathetic noises. “I hear you,
hon. I really do. But mmm, mmm, male dominated. Summons all kinds
of erotic images.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “Is there anything that
doesn’t summon erotic images for you?”
Lora chuckled. “Nope, I’m a simple woman. My
mind undresses every man I meet.” She paused. “Look, sweetie, you know I love
you to bits, but the truth is, you’re driven to a fault and it can’t be
healthy. You need to lighten up. Forget about work and come clubbing with me
tonight. We can analyze the benefits of hot sex over a pitcher of cold
Margaritas. With luck we’ll find a couple of guys to help us follow our line of
investigation.”
Kat hesitated, thinking about her upcoming
appointment with the client that she was hoping to sign. A Mr. Dawson who was
keen to find his missing wife and, the large sum of money Mrs. Dawson had
lifted from the couple’s joint savings account. To give Dawson confidence in
her abilities, Kat had planned to do some preliminary research this evening.
“The thing is…I’d envisioned a quick, nuked dinner before I pull an all-nighter
for a prospective case.”
There was a short silence. “All right, I want
you to be straight with me, are you, A-genuinely bogged down with urgent
investigation work, B-determined to hide from men because you’re secretly
nursing a broken heart over Josh Harper, or C-avoiding my company because I’ve
inadvertently done something to piss you off?”
“What! No. God, Lora, no, it’s got nothing to
do with you. You’re my best girl pal forever.” In truth, Kat would like nothing
more than to confide in Lora about her sudden fear of sleeping. But she didn’t
dare, in case her friend thought she’d gone loopy. Instead, she offered a
half-truth, “If I’ve seemed a little off, it’s because I’ve been suffering with
insomnia for a couple of weeks. It makes it difficult to concentrate during
working hours.”
Lora made a relieved sound. “Okay, well
that’s not so bad. So you’ll do a few hours of office work this afternoon, have
a night on the town with me, where you might possibly meet someone you want to
take home for an uncomplicated fuck. Hey, presto! You’ll sleep like a baby
tonight.”
Kat had to laugh. Lora never failed to lift
her spirits. “Alright, done, I’m yours to command for the evening.”
“There you go again, conjuring those sexy,
bondage images.”
Kat pulled a comical face to herself. “Tie me up, tie me down. I
suppose you want to have dinner first?”
Lora chuckled. “I’ll see if I can get us a
table overlooking the harbor at our favorite restaurant.” Lora’s cousin owned
the seafood restaurant. “What time should I book?”
“Hmm. Eight o’clock, that’ll give me time to
get some of the work done.”
There was silence and then a damn from
Lora. “Gotta go, hon, the new pastry chef I hired just texted me a
nine-one-one. See you at the restaurant.”
Lora hung up as Kat pulled her
four-wheel-drive vehicle into the wide, shrubbery-edged driveway leading to her
redbrick fixer-upper. Turning off the engine, she popped the trunk, grabbed her
briefcase off the passenger seat and walked to the rear of the vehicle for her
groceries. As she cast a fond eye over her garden, she noticed the rhododendron
bushes were covered with deep, pink blossoms. To her mind, their blooming
always marked the transition from winter to spring. She paused to savor the
perfect day, lifting her face to let the May sunshine warm it, the spring
breeze snagging wisps free from her braid.
Simultaneously, she felt a sudden stirring in
the air as her inner wavelengths signaled that something unforeseen was at
hand. Turning on her heel, Kat looked back along the length of her gravel
driveway, watching a tall man in a long, black coat walk through the entrance.
Thanks to her special abilities, which Kat
kept hidden, she didn’t fear strangers the way the average woman might. All the
same, she watched the newcomer speculatively until she saw a large, black dog
running to catch up with the man who paused to attach a leash to the dog’s
collar. With that, Kat assumed the stranger was one of the townies who
regularly scouted this area, looking to buy one of the older properties that
sat on a large plot. Most of the buyers, like Kat, had reconstruction in mind.
Perhaps this guy had walked too far and lost his bearings.
As man and dog approached through the
tree-dappled sunlight, the stranger’s features were obscured, but it was clear
he was youngish. With a professional eye, Kat logged the rest of his
details—height around six feet, weight in the region of one eighty, dark,
longish hair and his black coat appeared to be made of leather. Since it was unbuttoned
and flapping in the breeze, it reminded Kat of something a cowboy might wear.
She almost expected to see a pistol strapped to his hip.
Her gaze drifted down to his canine
companion. A large dog with a glossy, black coat that looked to be a cross
between a Labrador and a German Shepherd. She was amused to see it had a doggie
version of a backpack strapped around its middle.
The stranger waved a hand in greeting. “Good
afternoon. A lovely day, is it not?” His voice drifted across to her like a
soft rumble of thunder. It was strangely accented, not quite American.
Kat offered a politely enquiring smile. “Yes,
a beautiful day.”
She was distracted when the dog started to pull on its leash,
making excited, snuffling sounds, obviously eager to greet someone new. Kat
loved dogs and hoped to adopt one when she wasn’t working quite so many hours.
Now she gazed down into an appealing, canine face, dominated by large,
intelligent, brown eyes. The dog wagged its tail in apparent response to her
instinctive smile.
“Hello there, sweetie.” She bent to stoke its
satiny, black head while the dog licked her fingers. Then it looked up into her
eyes and woofed softly, completely charming Kat. “Well aren’t you a darling—”
she glanced at its genitals— “boy?” She stroked its head a couple more times
before she came upright to speak to the man. Finding her gaze level with the
strong column of his throat inside the neckline of his black sweater, she
amended his height to six-six or -seven. Plus he was bigger framed than he
looked from a distance with an impressive width of shoulders that all but
filled her vision
When she swept her gaze upward, she felt as
if the air had been knocked out of her. The eyes watching her with piercing
intensity looked as though they’d been fashioned from molten gold, emphasized
by inky lashes. His hair was blue-black, waving as it wished in sexy disarray.
A quick study of the rest of his face with its smooth, bronzed skin and
beautifully sculptured mouth showed there wasn’t anything about him not
attractive. Even the small scar running along the right side of his jaw added
to his appeal. Kat could almost hear Lora shouting from the other side of
town, Seize the moment, girl. Don’t let this one get away.
Mentally Kat shook her head. He was way too
beautiful for her or any average-looking woman’s peace of mind. While she had
never had occasion to use the term eye-candy, this guy was confection to die
for—a creamy chocolate type you could become addicted to, if you were lucky
enough to get a taste in the first place. Doubtless, he dated the type of
star-spangled women you saw in the glossy magazines.
She spoke in a neutral, neighborly tone, as
if she wasn’t affected by his looks, “Since you don’t look like somebody
selling magazine subscriptions, I’m guessing you’re new to the area, in need of
directions.”
For a second her mysterious visitor looked
puzzled, supporting the theory that English was not his first language. Then
his eyes filled with laughter, his mouth curving into a smile that upped his
appeal quotient from hot to sizzling. “No, I’m not a door-to-door salesman and
Mrs. Patel, at the corner store, pointed me in this direction. I’m looking for
Kathryn Monroe.” His gaze steadied on her face. “Would that be you?”
Staring into his extraordinary eyes, the
woman in Kat lost her train of thought, but the ex-cop picked up the threads.
“Yes, I’m Kat Monroe. And you are…?”
This time his smile was quick and apologetic.
“Sorry, I should have introduced myself straight away. I’m Max…Jericho.”
He held out a large hand and Kat shook it. It
was callused and felt like rock. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Jericho, I’m curious
why Mrs. Patel would send you to me. This house isn’t for rent or sale. As you
can see, I’m still renovating.” She indicated to the builder’s scaffolding
covering the side of the house where the brickwork was undergoing repointing.
Jericho flicked his gaze to her house. “And
I’m sure it’ll look splendid when finished. However, that’s not why I’m here. I
need your professional help.”
She blinked. “You want to hire me?”
“Yes.” He watched her face. “I’m hoping you
can start right away.”
Off balance, she quickly considered. Mr.
Dawson was coming to see her the day after tomorrow. It was hard to estimate
how much time it would take to track down the errant Mrs. Dawson. But she had
juggled two or more cases before. “I’m sure I can find the time to help you.”
She was curious. “How did you hear about me?”
Jericho hesitated. “I found you online, but
somehow misplaced your office address on the way here.” He gave an elegant
shrug.
He didn’t strike Kat as a man who would
misplace anything.
“Fortunately, Mrs. Patel was able to help.”
His eyes twinkled. “She considers you to be an asset to the neighborhood by the
way.”
Listening to his rich rumbling voice that
made everything he said sound fascinating, Kat did what she usually did with
prospective clients, opened her para-senses to probe his chi. She found his
emotional levels were deep and inconsistent, making it hard to get a fix on
him. But since she didn’t get any red warning signals, she relaxed, as much as
any woman could relax when faced with so much masculine beauty. If it crossed
her mind to have a word with Mrs. Patel regarding privacy issues, she dismissed
it. The woman had done her a service after all.
“In what area do you need my help, Mr.
Jericho?” Recently she’d been involved with a couple of industrial espionage
cases. However, the vast majority of her work dealt with missing persons the
police had failed to find.
“I’d like you to help me locate a thief who
made off with four-point-five million in uncut diamonds.”
Kat blinked slowly. “Well, that’s certainly
out of the ordinary.” Not many PIs were offered sexy cases tied to millions of
dollars’ worth of diamonds, let alone a sexy client to go with it, even if all
she could do was look. The Josh Harper disaster had cured her of mixing
business and pleasure. “I’m assuming you’re an insurance investigator, since
law enforcement is not in the habit of hiring PIs.”
“No, they’re not, but I’m foreign law
enforcement without jurisdiction. I come from a small European country called
Baltrania. And the victim is a Baltranian diplomat.”
Kat had never heard of the place. And she had
to wonder why a foreign diplomat would be carrying millions in uncut diamonds.
“The local police are looking into it,”
Jericho continued. “But since there are no leads so far, I decided to add an
outside investigator with local knowledge.”
His melodious voice flowed through Kat’s
senses like warm honey. She was curious to know why he’d chosen her when there
were three male PIs with offices in the vicinity. “If the Boston PD can’t find
your felon, what makes you think I can?”
“I liked what I heard about you from my contacts
in the department. The word is you handled yourself flawlessly while you were
on the job, showing an exceptional talent for tracking criminals.”
Kat didn’t respond to that particular
comment. “What makes you think your perp is in the Boston area?”
Something flickered in his eyes and was gone.
“The man we’re after has ties to this location. We’re certain he’ll be drawn to
here. To that end, I have an appointment with a realtor shortly in regards to
renting a property for a long-term stakeout.”
Kat knew from her years on the force that
family ties had led to the arrest of many a criminal.
“I’d like to give you a report to read and
we’ll go from there.”
While he looked down and dug around in a deep
coat pocket, Kat couldn’t help but dart another look at his fine mouth,
wondering how it might feel moving against hers, kissing her breathless.
“Here you go.”
She whipped her attention down to the
plastic-covered disk he was offering. She took it carefully, avoiding contact
with his hands so as not to think about how they might feel on her skin. Now
that Jericho was a client, he was strictly off-limits. And not just because of
her determination never to mix business and pleasure. The PI profession had a
very efficient grapevine, as you might expect. If it got around that Kat Monroe
slept with clients, she would lose all credibility. And that was the main issue
in her mind. Her livelihood had to be sufficient to support her and her sisters
until they graduated from college and embarked on their chosen careers.
Kat read the name written on the disk’s
plastic cover, “Viktor Kalsiak. That definitely sounds European, but your name
doesn’t.”
“I have American heritage. My knowledge of
the US is the reason I was given this assignment.” His gaze rested on her mouth
for a moment before he glanced down at his watch. “I have to go meet with that
realtor. So I’ll wait to hear from you.”
“I may not get back to you until tomorrow.”
“No problem—hold still!” His hand snaked out
and brushed against the skin behind her left ear, sending a thrill racing up
her spine.
“You had a little beetle on your hair.”
She gave a breathless laugh. “I guess it is
that time of year.” Lord, I really do need to get laid.
“Before you go, I’d like to give you this.”
Her jittery gaze darted up to his and then
dropped to the sealed envelope he was offering her.
“It’s a thousand dollars, as a consultation
fee.”
As much as Kat’s dwindling bank account badly
needed an infusion, she shook her head. “It’s too much. My normal consultation
fee is two hundred dollars.” The fact that he was offering so
much made her suddenly question if he was legit. For all she knew, he could be
a con man using her to find a double-dealing partner.
“Please take the money,” he urged. “I can
afford it.”
That increased her suspicions, but common
sense told her not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she settled for, “All
right, I’ll use the extra as a retainer. But if I decide for any reason not to
take the case, I’ll refund your money, minus two hundred dollars.”
“Very well.” He handed her the envelope.
“We’ll talk when you’re ready. My contact’s listed on the first page.” He
glanced down at the dog, sitting perfectly still all this time. “Okay, Bowwow,
it’s time for your run in the park.”
Kat looked down at the sleek, black dog in
bemusement. It wagged its tail, its mouth opening in a doggy grin. “You named
him Bowwow?” It seemed disrespectful to give such a beautiful animal a
ridiculous name.
When Kat looked back at Jericho, the corners
of his mouth lifted in another beguiling smile. “I did warn him people would
remark on the name, but he wouldn’t listen.” With that, the pair turned and
walked away.
Kat had always appreciated a quirky sense of
humor. And studying Jericho’s fluid stride, she wondered what his backside
looked like. “You’ll never know, Monroe.” Slipping the disk into her jacket
pocket, she managed her grocery bag and briefcase as she walked to unlock her
front door.
Stepping into her wood, tiled-floor foyer, she
tossed her keys and purse onto the small mahogany table by her staircase,
crossing to punch in her passcode, disarming the security system. She shrugged
out of her navy jacket and hung it on the coat stand, leaving the disk in her
pocket for later.
She carried the grocery bag into the kitchen,
setting it on the counter. Her first step, as always when she came home, was to
fill the kettle to make tea or coffee. Once she set the water on the stove to
boil, she opened kitchen cabinets and quickly put away the groceries, her
thoughts returning to the alluring Mr. Jericho.
She was still feeling slightly dazed by the
encounter and curious to see what was on his disk. At the same time, she warned
herself not to dwell on her reactions to him. Though maturity had moved her
from the gawky group into the attractive set, men, even ordinary looking ones,
didn’t exactly fall over themselves to get to her. Some were put off by her
height and attitude—she had plenty of it. And, of course, she was in the law and
order business, which intimidated many men. Her biggest problem was the
under-the-radar existence she’d been forced to live, never being able let her
guard down. More than anything, she wished there was someone she could open her
heart to.
With the thought, she touched the
intricately, detailed, gold pedant her mother had given her on her twelfth
birthday—supposedly an old Celtic design. Kat still grieved for her beautiful
mother, Davina, who was tragically taken from her two years ago in a car accident.
Davina had made a living as a fine artist while she’d trained as a downhill
skier for the Olympics. She was a brilliant champion who’d won five, gold
medals.
Kat had never known her father who supposedly
died shortly after she was born. Kat suspected she was the result of a brief
affair. But it didn’t matter. Her mother had been a warm and generous woman who
had cherished Kat along with her half-sisters, Brigitta and Lexine, twins, who
were born when Kat was seven. The twins’ father, Malcolm, sustained a serious
head injury in the same accident that killed Davina. Fortunately, Malcolm had
come out of his coma and was improving daily, able to be part of his daughters’
lives again.
It was shortly after her half-sisters were
born that Kat began to notice she was feeling and sensing things differently,
scents and sounds suddenly seemed sharper. When she was in school or out in
public, she was more aware of movement around her and she sometimes heard
whispered words in her head.
Of course, she was still too young to
comprehend what her new sensitivity signified. When she finally mentioned it at
home, her mother sat her down to gently explain that she wasn’t an ordinary
child. She’d descended from a long line of females endowed with powerful psychic
skills and the ability to move at great speed.
At that time, Davina did not consider her
daughter needed to be shown what was written in her great grandmother’s
journal. She simply told Kat she was experiencing the inception of a gift that
would strengthen at puberty.
Kat was thrilled. “So I’m kinda like a
supergirl?” She visualized herself fending off bullets like Wonder Woman. She
couldn’t wait to tell her school friends and see the amazement on their faces.
“I’m afraid your legacy must remain a
secret.” Doubtless Davina had feared the authorities might step in and take her
daughter away to be tested.
The little girl had cried. “But what’s the
point in having special powers if I can’t show them off to my friends?”
Davina took hold of Kat’s hands to make her
point. “Because your gift comes with responsibly, Kathryn, it must never be
used for personal gain, only to help and defend others.”
As Kat grew from girl to teenager, she would
have died rather than reveal the truth about her herself. Her gift had become
the bane of her existence. At fifteen, she was biologically taller and more
powerfully built than the rest of the girls her age, feeling little better than
a bull in a china shop. She safeguarded her secret by pretending to be a
fitness fanatic who spent a lot of time in the gym. At the same time, she was
careful to keep her physical abilities in check when she played sports,
especially in front of boys. It wasn’t until she was into her senior year of
college that she could risk wearing high heels to social events. By that time,
she didn’t tower over the majority of males on campus. Not that it helped much.
Not once in all her years of wishing had she found a man she felt she could
trust with her secret, one that wouldn’t consider her a freak. Now that her
mother was gone, Kat had no one to confide in. She wished she had asked more
questions when her mother was alive. Maybe huntresses weren’t supposed to fall
in love. Perhaps that’s why her mother hadn’t kept a permanent man in her life.
With her mother’s death, Kat had become the
family leader, helping to support her sisters. That’s why she needed to pull in
some profitable contracts to offset the cost of tuition and the renovation to
the house.
Kat sighed heavily. As much as she needed
someone to confide in, her sisters were dealing with the usual teenage
tribulations, starting college and their own burgeoning powers. She wasn’t
about to burden them with her sudden fear of sleeping.
When the kettle started to whistle, she shut off her detour of self-pity and
focused on the work she had to get through plus the report from Jericho. She
opted to make a pot of tea.
