HunterUndone Read online

  Chapter 2

  Shay was shaking as she opened the back door of Evernight Apothecary and Tarot Readings and let herself into the small kitchenette area used for creating herbs and salves. She was used to strangers treating her with mistrust and skepticism. It usually rolled off of her. She refused to let their opinions of her matter. It was the only way to survive being what she was with her heart somewhat intact. But strangers were not normally as big, angry, or gorgeous as Tyler Wade.

  And holy damn was the man gorgeous. Huge and intense and gorgeous and…biteable. She wasn’t sure where the urge to sink her teeth into him came from, but he was the first man she’d ever met that was just eat-him-up yummy.

  Even as she’d stared up at him on the sidewalk, she’d had visions of ripping off his jacket and shirt and just licking him all over. For hours. Like a cat with a bowl of cream.

  She slumped back against the door. She’d had visions. Not a fantasy, not a daydream, but visions. And at the moment, she wasn’t sure if it was his massive size and his temper, or the ridiculous amount of hotness that scared her more.

  “Did you find him?” Ivy asked from behind the counter.

  Shay managed a smile for her friend. Ivy, at seventeen, was the town geek, and the love of Garret’s life.

  Today, her bright red hair was piled on top of her head in a messy, haphazard knot, and her dark jeans were rolled at the ankle, showing off her one-of-a-kind Doctor Who Converse. The blue and grey plaid flannel shirt was borrowed from Garret and hung almost to her knees, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Skinny in a way only teenagers could be, she should have been dwarfed by the shirt but instead, the whole outfit just worked on her, including the purple horn-rimmed glasses.

  Yesterday, she’d worn a pretty sundress with combat boots.

  Though Shay wasn’t sure they knew it, Ivy and Garret were the reason she could still believe in love. The two of them had been inseparable almost since birth, and no one who spent any time around them could doubt that they were in it for the rest of their lives. It was in the way they made each other smile, the way Ivy sat on his lap while they played video games, and the way that no matter how hard their parents had tried to keep their time limited when they were younger, they always snuck out just to be together.

  Aware that she was stalling and that Ivy was waiting for an answer, Shay blew out a breath and pushed off against the door she’d been leaning on. “Oh, yeah. I found him.”

  Eyes wide, Ivy followed Shay into the employee’s breakroom. It was barely more than a closet, but it held the essentials—a mirror, a vending machine, a table, and a worn-out, overstuffed chair for catnaps. “It didn’t go well?”

  “No.” She sighed in front of the mirror. She twisted her jet black hair into a loose, crooked braid that fell over one shoulder, before hanging her oversized patchwork boho bag on a wall hook. “He was really…” Her nose wrinkled as she tried to figure out how to describe him without going into too much detail. She just snorted in irritation. “Annoying. He was apparently unimpressed with my knowledge of Wilfred. Or his scars.”

  Ivy grabbed her name tag off the table and pinned it to her shirt. “So, what are you going to do?”

  Shay headed out of the breakroom, Ivy on her heels. “I don’t know. Gemma isn’t going to be happy if I don’t at least try to follow through with this.”

  “It’s his mother. You’d think he’d at least be interested in finding out what happened to her.” When Shay only snorted again, Ivy grinned at her. “Emmaline said he is hot.”

  “You can check him out for yourself. I gave him directions to the bed and breakfast.”

  “Really?” Excitement lit up Ivy’s freckled face. “Now I know what I’m doing on my lunch break.” She stopped walking abruptly as they entered the storeroom. “Hey. You didn’t answer the question.”

  Shay grabbed a box and bumped the swinging door open with her hip. “You didn’t ask one.”

  “Fine,” Ivy muttered, stretching the word out to four syllables. “Is he hot? Mega hot?” When Shay only frowned, Ivy’s eyes went huge. “You’re speechless! He’s that gorgeous?”

  Gorgeous was an understatement. Unfortunately for her—and her heart-- she’d always been into the tall and brooding type.

  “He’s alright, I guess,” she said, nonchalant. After setting the box on the floor in the store, she went to find a knife.

  Ivy tapped at the screen of her iPhone. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at it, and then she shoved the phone in Shay’s face. “Tori from the diner just sent me this picture of him. That face is not ‘alright.’ That is ‘sell your soul to the devil for one night with him’ amazing. That is ‘let him eat crackers in bed, leave wet towels on the carpet, smile at every stupid joke he ever makes’ gorgeous.”

  Yup.

  Shay broke and gave his picture a quick look, her mouth watering as lust slammed into her chest. The shot was candid, probably taken while Tori hid behind the kitchen door, but it showcased his face perfectly, from the bright blue of his eyes, to the way one corner of his mouth was lifted in a smile, or a sneer, to the dark blonde scruff of his five o’clock shadow.

  “He’s alright,” she said with a shrug. Pulling a tool box out from under the counter, she snagged a box cutter out of it and moved back over to open the box. “We have work to do.”

  Pulling out a handful of the decorative bottles she used for personalized lotions and salves, she headed toward the glass-and-mahogany display case in the front window.

  Work was good. Work would keep her brain off of that yummy, pain in her ass, stubborn man.

  Ivy snorted and darted after her. “You are blind, Shay Evernight. Either that, or you’re hiding something from me.”

  Shay deliberately ignored her. Despite the four year age difference between them, Ivy had an old soul and had gone through more crap in her seventeen years than most people could imagine going through in forty. Garret was the only thing that had kept her sane through most of it, and the only constant in her life.

  When they’d been thirteen, Garret had gone berserk when he’d found out her father was beating her, and she’d moved in with Shay shortly afterward. Shay loved her like a sister, and Ivy knew all about Shay’s…abilities.

  So it wasn’t like her to hide things from her. But there were some battles Shay was learning she had to fight by herself.

  And meeting Tyler Wade was proving to be one of them.

  ***

  Tyler had meant to hunt down Malia and call this job a bust, but he’d ended up in the driveway of one of his childhood homes, instead.

  He only had vague memories of this place. His mother had never been able to stay in one place long, but there had been something about Willow Creek that she’d fallen in love with instantly. She hadn’t wanted to leave.

  Now, looking back on the first nine years of his life, even if she hadn’t disappeared when she had, Tyler wasn’t sure she’d have been able to stay. Then again, he had no idea what had drawn her to this place to begin with.

  Putting his vehicle in park, he stared out his windshield at the decrepit, postage-stamp sized house he and his mother had spent their last seven months together in. His memories of this place weren’t clear, but jumbled in with the dozen other places they’d lived in his early years.

  She’d been a good mom, but he didn’t remember her ever being anything but tired. Even when she had taken him to the park or for ice cream, her beautiful smile had been exhausted around the edges, and there had always been dark smudges under her eyes. He’d been on his own since kindergarten, because she’d raised him to be independent enough that she would never have to depend on anyone else to help with him while she’d worked two and three jobs at a time to make ends meet.

  Which, he thought now, she’d never really been able to do. The majority of their running had been to avoid all the people she owed money to.

  Pissed off that he’d come to this place, he still coul
dn’t put his truck in reverse and leave. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep until he found out how Shay knew about Wilfred. So he climbed out, grabbed the shovel he’d stopped at the hardware store for, and headed to the desolate back yard.

  The part of his brain that had been forced to life after his mother’s disappearance recognized that something wasn’t right with the small yard and house. It had been clean and in decent shape when he’d been sent to live with his uncle in Manhattan, but it looked as if no one had touched the rental home in the twenty years since. Even the yard was barren, more dead than alive. Barely a single weed poked through, and the one lilac tree in the back corner had long since wilted.

  He walked over to the crumpling back porch and crouched, his hand reaching out to brush off the layers of dirt and leaves before he went to work with the shovel. He didn’t expect to find anything. In his line of work hunting the bad shit in the world, things had long since stopped surprising him, and the lengths people would go to just to make someone’s life miserable never failed to disgust him. He knew what the Evernight family was capable of, and he wasn’t going to trust Shay as far as he could throw her. He’d dealt with enough ‘psychics’ to know how they worked. They were frauds. All of them.

  And when he unearthed the stuffed bear a few minutes later, it didn’t change his opinion of her any. He’d been around long enough to know that charlatans were successful and good at what they did by giving their mark just enough to earn their trust.

  It might be ridiculous, but he couldn’t stop staring at the toy. Wilfred had been Moms promise to him on his seventh birthday that they would find a place to stay and plant roots, that he’d have friends he could keep and he wouldn’t have to take care of her anymore.

  It had never happened, but he’d kept the bear anyway, a reminder that no matter how sincere someone sounded and how hard they tried, sometimes words just meant nothing.

  It was a lesson he’d never forgotten.

  Brushing the bear off, he grabbed the shovel and stood, finding himself face to face with a police officer.

  “What do you got there?” the man, who couldn’t have been out of the academy for six months, asked, one red brow quirked.

  “An alien spaceship. They’ve taken the form of innocent stuffed animals to make their worldwide takeover easier.”

  For a second, Tyler was sure the officer believed him, but then he shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “We don’t like smartasses in this town.”

  “Better than being a dumbass.” When the officer’s face turned a mottled shade of red, Tyler cursed. He should probably be playing nice if he wanted to use what Willow Creek considered a police force in his attempt to find out what really happened to his mother and all those other women. He held out his hand. “Tyler Wade. I lived in this house when I was a kid.”

  The officer blinked at him while slowly reaching out to shake his hand. “Wade? As in Gemma Wade’s son?”

  Tyler’s jaw set. This cop didn’t look old enough to have been alive when his mother went missing, let alone remember her. “Yes. Did you know her?”

  “I know of her.” At Tyler’s narrowed eyed look, the kid squared his shoulders. “You’re on private property, and the owner doesn’t take too kindly to people trespassing. The last group of kids that did spent the weekend in jail.”

  “I’ve got this, Officer Wilkins.” A tall, line-backer built man in a flannel shirt and chief’s badge rounded the corner of the house. “Isn’t there some paperwork at the station you should be filling out?”

  Officer Wilkins looked like he wanted to argue before he straightened his shoulders, nodded at Tyler, and left.

  The chief didn’t turn back to him until the officer’s car had rounded the last corner of the street. Finally, he leaned against the side of the ruined house and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  “So. Tyler Wade returns to Willow Creek.” Before Tyler could form a reply, long-forgotten memories invading his brain, the chief continued on. “Still look like a dick.”

  “Deacon Stone. Still a power-hungry son-of-a-bitch.”

  Chief Stone jerked his chin up, his light blue eyes narrowing on Tyler’s face. “Funny coming from a trespassing thief.”

  Tyler barked out a laugh when his old, only friend stepped forward to embrace him in a back-thumping hug. “You are not a chief. The last time I saw you, you were on the wrong side of the bars for breaking into Chief Carson’s car.”

  Deacon grinned. “Between his forcing me into community service and my mother blistering my hide for six months after that, it seemed easier to stay on the just side of the law.” He cocked his head at the stuffed animal in Tyler’s hands. “What’s that?”

  “At the moment? A big mess of pain in my ass.” He tossed it to him and started back around the house, Deacon right next to him. “Who owns this place?”

  “Phoenix Evernight. She has, since before your Mama…” Deacon cleared his throat, seeming uncomfortable.

  Tyler knew the feeling. People were always awkward when she was mentioned. No one wanted to say she’d died, but gone missing never felt right, either.

  “Wait a minute.” Tyler stopped walking. “Phoenix Evernight owns this place?”

  “Yes.”

  Tyler scowled and filed that information away for later as they headed toward the front of the house. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him, but something just wasn’t sitting right in his head.

  “Are we done here?” Tyler asked.

  “Well, technically, I should call Ms. Evernight and report a trespasser, but I’m sure Officer Wilkins rushed right back to the station to do that.” Deacon laid his hand on Tyler’s arm, to stop him from getting in the truck. “What are you doing here?”

  Tyler’s gaze strayed back to the remains of his last childhood home. “Hopefully just passing through.”

  Deacon leaned back against his unmarked cop car and crossed his ankles. “If you’re going to be around for a day or two, hit me up. I’ll buy you a drink and we can catch up.”

  “I may take you up on that.” Tyler held out his hand, and Deacon clasped it. “Take care, Stone.”

  “Right back at you, Wade.”

  Tyler didn’t wait for him to say anything else as he got back into his SUV, cursing under his breath. As much as he wanted to avoid the Evernight family, it seemed fate was determined to keep throwing them in his path.

  There was one surefire way of untangling himself from their madness. He had no ties to this place anymore, if he even ever had, and there was no reason for him to stay.

  So backing out of the driveway, he pointed the truck toward downtown. He was going to pick up Malia, then figure out where he was going later. He just had to get the hell out of this damn fucking hellhole.

  Chapter 3

  “What about Prague?” Mr. Jenkins asked.

  Shay smiled as she bagged up the homemade shampoo. In his late seventies, Mr. Jenkins had traveled the world a half dozen times and was always encouraging her to follow her dreams to see the world.

  There were so many things she wanted to see, so many adventures she wanted to have, none of which would ever happen while being stuck in Willow Creek, Michigan. Not that she didn’t love it there, mostly because she loved the people, but she’d always wanted…more, and the rest of the world felt just out of her reach.

  Besides, her family would never let her leave. She’d learned that the hard way.

  But still, she could dream. “It’s on my list. The Dancing House, the bridges, the castles…I think I could explore Prague for a month and not get bored.”

  “So when is your departure date?” He leaned forward and patted her hand that rested on the back of the counter. As always, the shop was filled with people taking advantage of the coffee bar and waiting for Phoenix to appear and do her weekly ‘free show.’ “Phoenix is a tough old bat. She can handle herself while you go see the world.”

  Shay’s smile wi
dened, determined not to say something stupid that she’d regret later. In case she never got out of this town.

  Instead, she said simply, “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing Phoenix couldn’t handle, period. Need anything else?”

  He sighed and shook his head. “No, I’m good, Shay. Thank you.”

  She nodded and handed him the receipt for the homemade shampoo, then turned around and ran, breasts first, into a very hot brick wall. She oomphed and staggered back a step, only for large hands to wrap around her waist, steadying her.

  Instead of letting her go, the hands tightened. She knew without looking who it was. She knew everyone in Willow Creek, not all of them by name, but definitely by sight. Everyone came into the shop at some point. And no one in the town was this tall. Or stupid enough to touch her without an invitation.

  “What are you doing here?” she snapped, deliberately letting her eyes take their time dragging up Tyler’s body to find his face.

  The man was hard all over, as if he’d been carved out of a giant slab of stone. But for as yummy as his body was, his face was just sinful, and she was damn sure she’d sell her soul to the devil to be able to find out if he could deliver on that sin. His surfer blonde hair was just long enough to curl behind his ears, and he had the purest blue eyes she’d ever seen. They were flawless but for a single speck of gold in the left one. Then there were his lips…

  She could dive in and spend hours kissing him, his mouth was that perfect.

  When she finally realized his brow was cocked, waiting for her to finish her appraisal of him, she crossed her arms and raised her brow right back, not in the least embarrassed to be caught staring. The man was walking sex. If he didn’t want to be looked at, the least he could do for the female population’s sanity was wear a bag over his head.

  “Well? Did you find Wilfred?”

  His face darkened. “That’s not why I’m here, but yes. You work here?”