HunterUndone Page 3

  “I am an Evernight.” She deliberately leaned to the side where the family name was etched into the shop’s bow window, before looking all the way up at him again. “You sound surprised that I would have a job.”

  Tyler shrugged. “I should have known you’d follow in your crack-pot grandmother’s—“His voice cut off, and he looked away. “I’m sorry, Shay, that was rude. “

  Her brow furrowed. “How do you know Phoenix? And please, for your safety, do not refer to her as my grandmother. She hates that.”

  Surprise flickered over his face, chased quickly by curiosity. Her grandmother wasn’t without her good parts, but they were hidden, few and far between the bad spots.

  He nodded once. “Noted.”

  “Great,” she drawled, only slightly sarcastically. “So why are you here?”

  “I need coffee, and the diner said they were closed. I’m going to hit the road.”

  Shock widened her eyes. And quick on the heels of surprise came the regret—and temper.

  Damn him. Damn him and his damn Greek god body.

  “Great,” she said. “In that case, I’ll find you a donut, too. On the house for your inconvenience.”

  She skirted around him, tray still popped against her hip as she effortlessly wound through the maze of bottle-topped tables and people to the coffee bar behind the counter.

  ***

  Trying not to remember what her amazing breasts had felt like mashed against his chest, Tyler pulled his attention away from how gracefully and competently she moved, and look around the cramped shop. It was…relaxing, he guessed. Done in earth tones with live plants on shelves and dried plants and flowers hanging from the ceiling, it was like the designer had brought the forest inside.

  A small staircase tucked behind a large bookcase. A garish neon light that read Tarot pointed up to where panels of bright, loud-printed fabric were pulled back, showing off a small room made to look like the inside of a cartoonish caravan.

  Re-focusing on his immediate surroundings, he realized everyone was staring at him. He’d vaguely been aware of the noise level dropping when he’d walked in, but then he’d seen Shay and his brain had short-circuited. Not something that made him happy, though it made him all the more determined to get the hell out of this town. The last thing he needed was an attraction to a woman with the body made for all kinds of hot, sticky, primal sex, and the mental stability of quicksand.

  No, what he needed was a beach, a beer, and a willing body to help him get rid of this building lust he had for the nutjob Shay.

  “So…” A tall, skinny redhead with an adorably cute, freckled face and purple glasses stood in front of him suddenly, eyeballing him. “You’re Tyler.”

  He nodded.

  “Why do you sound so surprised?” he asked, wondering where the hell Shay was with his coffee. She’d vanished into the back of the shop somewhere, and was short enough he couldn’t see her in the horde of people.

  She shook her head, the mess of curls piled on top of her head threatened to fall with the motion. Her gaze was too frank and intelligent to belong to a teenager. She shrugged. “It’s just not like Shay to lie to me, that’s all.”

  He stilled, the hunter in him intrigued, but the man in him in no way surprised to find that the gypsy was a liar. “Oh? What did she lie about?”

  Her grin was pure gamine. “She said you weren’t hot.”

  With those words hanging in the air between them, she skipped past him on her way to the back.

  Shaking his head and wondering if everyone in the town was just bat shit crazy, he moved over and settled his big frame on one of the stools. Because he could feel the woman next to him openly staring, he slowly turned his head to look down at her. “Can I help you?”

  “You’re Gemma’s boy.”

  His teeth set. Because it wasn’t a question, he didn’t feel the need to answer it. Instead, he bent his head in greeting. “Tyler Wade.”

  Apparently taking that as an invitation for conversation, she swiveled in her chair to openly study him. “I saw you talking to Shay. Are you two an…item?”

  Tyler’s brow furrowed at her hesitation. “No. We had a conversation, that’s it.”

  “Oh, honey.” She batted playfully at his arm, and then just left her perfectly manicured hand resting on his forearm. “Everyone in the room could feel the sparks between the two of you.”

  He wondered if it would be rude to snort at her, and then decided he didn’t give a shit. He snorted, deliberately lowering his gaze to where she was slowly petting his arm. It never failed to surprise him that people never sensed the dark side of who and what he was. “Do you mind?”

  “Oh.” She blinked and snatched her hand back, like she hadn’t been aware she was rubbing him. “I’m sorry.”

  She was pretty in a bored housewife kind of way, but she didn’t have Shay’s raw, powerful sexuality. And because he had no idea in hell where that thought had come from, or why, he scowled at her. “Tell me, is it something in the water?”

  She blinked, her head canting in what he recognized as a seductive angle. Just enough be flirtatious. “Is what in the water?”

  “Whatever makes you all nuts.”

  Apparently assuming they were still talking about Shay, she smiled, her eyes going hard. “Honey, don’t let that one fool you. Nuts is an understatement for the entire Evernight family. Her mother was into some really crazy shit before her murder, and word is she learned it from Phoenix, who taught Shay.” She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around his, concern shimmering in her eyes. “Stay away from that one, Tyler.”

  Shay chose that moment to saunter up.

  “There you go,” she said sweetly, batting ridiculously long eyelashes at him. “Now off you go. You don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

  “Tsk tsk, Shay,” the woman admonished. “So rude.”

  Tyler pushed his fingers through his hair. Something wasn’t right. The slight edge of panic was flickering in her eyes.

  But it wasn’t his problem. And because he refused to let it be his problem, he grabbed the coffee cup and the donut half wrapped in a napkin and stood up with every intention of leaving.

  He hesitated halfway to the door and turned to look at her over his shoulder. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he was acutely aware of the silence in the room while everyone waited to see what he was going to say. Malia was going to strangle him for taking so long, but he didn’t care. “Can you take five?”

  Instead of answering, Shay skirted over to drop her tray on the counter. She glared up at him before she stalked past him and out the shop’s front door.

  He followed, aware that his, and every other man in the shop, eyes were glued to her perfect ass.

  The second they were alone, he cleared his throat and took an angry step toward her. “You asked me to come. I thought you wanted me here, so why the hell are you so anxious to get rid of me?”

  Fire flashed in her, and despite the foot and a half difference between them, she didn’t cower.

  “Look,” she snapped, her teeth gritted together, “I am well aware of what people think about me, but believe it or not, I don’t actually like to be dismissed as a nut job when all I’m trying to do is help someone who needs it.”

  Walk away. Walk away, now.

  He heard the words as clearly as if he’d said it aloud. Shaking his head to clear it, he widened his stance in self-defense and crossed his arms over his chest. “Then tell me where her body is buried.”

  Temper had her hands fisting at her sides, but though he had the feeling she wouldn’t hesitate to use them, she didn’t. She just continued to glare up at him.

  “If I knew that I wouldn’t need you. I’d have gone directly to the police. Look.” She closed her eyes and dragged in a couple of deep, calming breaths, before she opened them and took a step toward him. “I know how crazy I sound. Trust me, I get it, but I’m the real deal, and while she say
s she’s not going to make any apologies that you wouldn’t believe yet, anyway, she says you need to do this. You need to help me, or you’re never going to find peace.”

  “Look, sweetheart,” he murmured, ice cold as he leaned toward her, forcing her to either hold her ground or back away. Temper gripped him, nearly shoving panic down his throat. He didn’t want to be here, and he sure the fuck wouldn’t be guilted into staying. “I’ve been on my own since I was five. I don’t need peace, or closure. I need to get the fuck out of this town before I crawl out of my goddamn skin. Understand?”

  Her eyes went wide, but to her credit, she held. She raised her chin a notch. “She said her Tyler would tear the heavens apart for her, no matter how many mistakes she’d made as a mother. That he would never know how to do anything different.”

  He barked out a humorless laugh and straightened. “Yeah, well, it just goes to show that you’re full of shit. I’ve never met anyone I’d care about enough to tear apart the heavens for. Including her.”

  Refusing to let her shocked look eat at him when he knew he was full of shit, he turned and walked away, heading for his truck.

  “One week,” she shouted. “Give me one week to change your mind and show you that you were wrong about her. She said to remind you of your promise to her when you were seven.”

  He stilled, halfway in his vehicle, and closed his eyes. Goddamn it. He nodded once, without looking at her. Jesus. Could this chick actually be for real? “One week. That’s all you get.”

  He hadn’t meant to look at her, but when he lifted his head and saw the brilliant smile light up her face, he cursed himself for seven times a fool. Yes, he’d made a promise to his mother, but at the moment, he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t staying just because Shay seemed to need him to so badly.

  Which he knew, down to his core, that getting involved with her was not going to end well for anyone. She may talk a good game, but she was an Evernight. People who got too close to the Evernight women tended to disappear forever.

  Chapter 4

  “He won’t run.”

  Shay snorted out a ragged laugh when Tyler’s mother spoke directly in her ear.

  “You don’t know that,” she murmured, hating this part. No matter how much people liked her, standing on the sidewalk talking to someone only she could see or hear made her a freak. She turned to look at Gemma. “It seems to me you don’t know anything about him.”

  “I told you, he’s angry. It’s eating away at him. My disappearance is the one thing he can’t solve, that he can’t put together, and it’s eating at his soul.”

  Shay shifted her gaze to where Tyler’s truck had vanished down the street, and just shook her head.

  Suddenly cold==the dead were always so cold—she wrapped her arms around herself. “Or maybe he doesn’t want to put it together. He’s angry at you, and putting together the missing pieces might take away the only good memories he has of you.”

  A blast of ice hit Shay so hard she felt her bones freeze. Then, it was gone and she was left alone on the sidewalk in the summer heat, looking like the crazed woman she was.

  Something wasn’t right with Gemma. While Tyler absolutely had a lot of anger and rage built up inside of him, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure it had to do with him not being able to solve his mother’s disappearance. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more simmering beneath the surface. The dead had their own agenda just as much as those still alive, but usually it was to find peace and help the ones they love find closure. But Gemma was putting on the perfect mother act, and now that Shay met Tyler, she was no longer sure she was buying a second of it. He was rude and treated her like she belonged in the nut house, but she was dredging up a past he didn’t want to remember.

  “Shay.”

  Crap. Her eyes closed as the darkly masculine voice wrapped around her, trying to pull her into the web he insisted on trying to spin around her.

  She wasn’t exactly sure how Jackson did it, but if she wasn’t on constant mental guard around him, she had the creepy-crawly sensation that he was trying to invade her brain, to give her thoughts that weren’t hers.

  Once she was sure she’d slammed her mental walls against him, she turned around to look up at him, deliberately keeping her face void of emotion. He’d been trying to prey on her emotions since he’d gotten to town months before, but Shay wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  “What do you want, Jack?”

  Rage flashed in his steel blue eyes, his face hardening with temper. Unlike with Tyler’s anger, Shay wasn’t stupid enough to hold her ground against the cruelty she saw in Jackson.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  She subtly shifted until her back was closer to the shop door. If he got too close, she could escape inside.

  “Then stay out of my head,” she snapped. “And go away. Whatever you’re selling, whatever you want, whatever plan you’ve hatched with Phoenix, I don’t want anything to do with it.”

  He took a step toward her, and while he made her skin crawl, she refused to cower. She knew when to run and put distance between her and a threat but she would never ever cower. Not again, and not to anyone.

  He reached out and pinched her chin hard, yanking her face up. “This game is no longer amusing me, Shay. I will have what I was promised, and I will have it soon.”

  Her eyes went flat. Hard.

  She smiled. “Over. My. Dead. Rotting. Corpse.” And then she added, because she was ninety-nine percent sure he wouldn’t actually hit her in broad daylight on Main Street, “Asshole.”

  She yanked her chin away from him and, relying on the safety of the public street, turned her back on him and walked into the shop.

  She didn’t stop until she’d wound her way through the display room, pushed her way into the kitchen, and found a small nook surrounded by large shelves of empty bottles and jars. Then her body simply gave in to the need to shake. She bent double, grasping her knees with trembling hands as she sucked in huge gulps of air.

  She had find a way to get out of here. No matter what she’d promised Gemma, she couldn’t do it, and Gemma was just going to have to understand. She was going to die in this town if she didn’t get away.

  It was a secret no one knew, not even Ivy. Jackson was going to be the death of her. But he didn’t just want her dead. He was going to use her and abuse her and break her first. He would leave her in a melted puddle of herself, incoherent and dead inside.

  And then he would kill her.

  ***

  “You’re kidding me.” Malia shifted in her seat and gaped at Tyler. “We’re staying?”

  Gripping the steering wheel with one hand, he shoved the other through his hair.

  “I am.” And fuck if he knew why. He shot her a glance. “You don’t have to. Leith could use some help on that job up north.”

  Her lip curled at the mention of their third partner. Leith Madigan was a little older than Tyler, a lot older than Malia, and could crawl under her skin easier than anyone else in existence. Despite her dislike of him, he was damn good at his job, and had saved her life more than once.

  “No, thank you,” she huffed, popping another piece of gum into her mouth. “I’d rather stake myself naked in the middle of this freaky-ass town.”

  He scowled. “Did you find something out about this place?”

  “No,” she muttered, shaking her head. “That’s the problem. No place is this perfect. There’s only been one murder in the town’s recorded history, and their violent crime rating is practically non-existent. I don’t like it.”

  Yeah. Neither did he. Making a mental note to look into it further, he grit his teeth and pulled his truck into the front of Willow Creek’s Bed and Breakfast. A converted Victorian mansion, it had acres of sprawling, vividly colored gardens, ancient trees, and countless little nooks and crannies tucked away for reading, or just enjoying nature.

  He shook his head. Nat
ure and quiet made him twitch. After more than twenty years in Manhattan, he was accustomed to constant noise and movement. While he wasn’t cold enough to not realize how beautiful the setting was, he had no intention of taking advantage of the solitude it offered.

  Malia let out a low whistle as she hopped out of the passenger seat. “Why do I have a feeling this is where the bodies are buried?”

  He grabbed his backpack off the back passenger floor board and shoved all of his notes and files into it, then climbed out and locked the vehicle’s doors behind him.

  The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and every plant in sight was in full, colorful bloom as he headed toward the front door of the inn, and yet, he didn’t feel warmed by any of it. Crystal-clear French doors stood at the top of the wraparound porch and opened easily as he stepped inside.

  “I’ll be right with you,” a voice muttered from somewhere behind the white, distressed counter. “Just…gimme one more minute.”

  “Yeah. No problem,” Tyler said, automatically scanning his surroundings. He counted two exits, three if you counted the large picture window, and a single video camera not even connected to anything. He sighed. It was Willow Creek. What did he expect?

  There was a loud rustling noise, and then a small round woman in her early forties popped up behind the counter. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and her smile was a little frayed around the edges. Her name tag read ‘Donna’.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Do you have any rooms available?” Malia braced her arms on the reservation desk and dropped her chin on them.

  “Of course.” Donna nodded as she bent down and grabbed something from under the counter, and a moment later, she laid a fat, thick, old-fashioned sign in book in between them.

  She glanced up at them as she started flipping through pages. “Do you want a room or a cottage? For just one night, or…?”

  That brought him up short. “Cottage?”

  She smiled. “Yes, we have several remodeled cottages on the property. They come equipped with a kitchenette and all the small appliances you would need, and of course we provide breakfast, and dinner upon reservation.”