Hunter's Pride Read online

A long time ago.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  She had to know who had saved her.

  Duncan Pride stood in the doorway of A Page Apart, staring at the woman at the register. She was bent over a book, studying the page intently. Her hair, dark and wild, spiraled down around her shoulders in riotous waves. As he continued to debate going inside, she started to twine one fat curl around her finger.

  He’d known the Franklins would leave the bookstore to Kennedy. Although her mother hadn’t ever let them adopt her, Kennedy had belonged more to Lisa and Cole than the cold bitch who birthed her. One of things she’d done on her own after she turned eighteen, she’d changed her name.

  Kennedy Franklin, no longer Kennedy Masters.

  Duncan hadn’t been sure what to expect. He’d seen her around town a few times after that night. For a while, she’d had been scared of her own shadow.

  Then fall came and Duncan had left again for college. He rarely saw her after that. And not at all for more than seven years. She saw the Franklins often, but they always traveled to see her in Detroit. She rarely came home.

  Not that Duncan could blame her.

  Pride, Michigan was his home—had been home to his family for nearly two hundred years. They’d come here seeking solitude. They stayed because it was home.

  The nightmares he had of what had happened to her were nothing compared to what he imagined she experienced. What Jack Masters had done to his stepdaughter was the worst thing that had ever happened in Pride, at least in recent memory.

  People forgot. Within a few months, people had acted normally around her again. But Duncan couldn’t forget—all he could remember was how frail, how small she had been as he held her. Every bruise he’d seen was imprinted on his memory. Every streak of blood.

  So how in the hell could he walk in there and act normal? She hardly knew him.

  Just leave…

  She wouldn’t even remember him. They’d only seen each other in passing, and not even that for years.

  But before Duncan could convince himself to turn around and walk, she looked up. Through the glass, he met her brown eyes and he forced a smile as he opened the door and stepped inside.

  Too late now…

  “Hello, Kennedy.”

  She studied him for a minute with curious eyes. Finally, a smile curled her lips upward just a little. “Duncan Pride.” Her eyes dropped the badge he wore clipped to his belt and she arched a brow. “Like father, like son?” she asked.

  Duncan shrugged. “Seemed like the right choice,” he murmured.

  “How is your father?”

  He glanced away. “Died a few years ago.”

  She paled. “I’m sorry, Duncan.”

  He nodded a little. “Happened fast. That’s all you can really hope for.” Well, except for more time, he guessed.

  She was quiet for a moment, but he could see the questions in her eyes. “Shot in the line of duty,” he said softly. “Somebody from out of town was accused of attacking a local girl. He went to the hotel to question him and the guy tried to run, pulled a gun on Dad. They both got shots off—both of them died.”

  He didn’t elaborate more than that. Wasn’t much else he could say—how could he explain to a mortal that his father was shot facing down a feral werewolf that thought he could make Pride his personal hunting grounds? In more ways than one. It was suspected that the werewolf was responsible for two missing people, plus it looked like he had attacked several different women, not just the one who initially came forward.

  If the bastard had been a mortal, Ryan Pride would still be alive. He’d been shot at point blank range, but a shapeshifter could heal almost any wound. But not one inflicted by a silver bullet, a silver bullet shot straight into the heart. Fortunately, the sheriff had known he was going after a non-mortal and he’d been prepared. He’d used silver ammo as well.

  Both were dead and the Prides had fulfilled their duties.

  Duty—one of the things that kept the Prides here. Oh, some left, but many of them stayed. They’d been charged with protecting these lands and it was a responsibility they took seriously.

  A duty given to them by the Council.

  The Council…he’d been approached by them while he was at college. Not a big surprise, sooner or later most of the Prides had been approached. Some had gone to serve that honored organization. Some chose to try to live a life as normal as possible. Others came home.

  Duncan had come home. When he was a kid, he had dreams of being a Hunter. His dad had told him of his responsibilities early on. He was his father’s only son, the one that Pride Mountain would pass to, and hopefully, Duncan would take over for his father as leader of the Pride. But Ryan had understood what it was like to have dreams—dreams of something exciting.

  If Duncan had chosen to join the Hunters instead, Ryan would have accepted that, happily and with a lot of pride.

  Duncan had declined the offer, though, to join the Hunters. In a way, he already served the Council.

  Nearly a hundred and fifty years ago, the Council had sent an emissary to Pride Mountain. It had been Duncan’s great grandfather who had led the Pride then. When he was given charge of these lands, he had done so willingly.

  For as long as the Prides handled the problems that arose with feral vamps and shifters, no Hunter would be sent to claim land anywhere near their home.

  That could have gotten…dicey, to say the least. Paranormal creatures were notoriously territorial and the lands in Pride, Michigan had been in the Pride family for more than two hundred years, even before Michigan became a state. They wouldn’t have easily moved aside if a Hunter had felt called to their lands.

  Especially since chances are it would have been another shifter. This far north in Michigan, the extremes in day and night weren’t that easy for a lot of Hunters. Something in the air really bothered the witches—it was suspected it had something to do with the magnetic fields. A witch had to be born in the far north, used to the effects the magnetic fields had on their powers, otherwise, it took quite a while to acclimate. Their powers were a bit harder to control. Some became noticeably stronger, which required more training. Others lost some power.

  Neither one was something a lot of witches liked.

  Witches really liked keeping things as level as they could. From what Duncan could tell from the witches he had met, they were damned near control freaks. Having Mother Nature wreak havoc on their gifts was probably a pain in the ass.

  More, it wasn’t just the witches that didn’t like the adjustment. The longer days in the summer kept the vampires too constrained. The werewolves had the opposite problem—the nights were difficult in the winter, especially when the moon rode high in the sky. So they never stayed too long.

  The only ones that weren’t affected this far in the north were the natural shapeshifters, ones like the members of the Pride. Shifters who didn’t rely on the cycles of the moon to harness the power to Change.

  So it would have been a shifter, either a wolf or another feline that came and settled if the Pride hadn’t agreed to guard the lands.

  Up until Ryan had been killed by the feral werewolf, it had been a sacrifice that had come with little cost.

  “I hate to hear that.”

  Kennedy’s soft voice pulled Duncan out of the well of memories and he looked up at her with a faint smile. “Dad loved his job, loved what he did.”

  “He was a good man. A brave one. A kind one.” Her eyes moved away but not before he saw them darken from memory.

  Ryan had been at her side when she woke in the hospital. It had been Ryan who intervened when her mother tried to literally drag her out of the hospital.

  Her memories of Ryan Pride were probably not very good ones.

  Duncan forced a smile and said, “Yes. He was. I hear you’re planning on moving back to Pride, at least for a while.”

  She shrugged. “Yes. Not sure how long.”

  “We don’t really have much need for social w
orkers. There’s only four of them in the county, and one of them is part time.”

  Kennedy smiled, flashing a dimple in her cheek. “That’s a good thing. I’m getting out of social work.” Even though she smiled, he saw the sadness in her eyes. Something had happened.

  Nodding, he said, “Understandable. I imagine it’s a hell of a lot harder in Detroit. So you’re going to try running the bookstore, instead?”

  One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Yeah—try being the operative word. But Leslie has said she’s staying on. Hopefully she can keep me from messing up.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and closed her book. “Is there anything you were looking for? Or doing the welcome wagon thing?”

  “Both. I’d ordered some books…” He moved to the counter, trying to remember the titles, but she was already turning around.

  He braced his elbows on the counter, watching as she flipped through the marked books on the shelves behind the counter. She said something else, but it barely registered.

  Duncan was a little too preoccupied with the book on the counter. The one Kennedy had been reading. Return of the Big Cats to Michigan.

  He’d read it—the natural cougars were an interest of his. It was more of an educational piece, written by a professor in Saginaw. And it detailed the return of the cougars to the state.

  Odd reading.

  Whoa…

  When Duncan Pride left, the bookstore seemed a hell of a lot bigger. There was something almost overwhelming about him. She hadn’t seen him in years, and she hadn’t ever really talked to him.

  He looked a lot like his father.

  Both of them had been tall, lean hipped, wide shouldered, with a long, wiry build. Duncan wore his hair similar to the style his father had had, keeping the dark locks cut short and close to his scalp.

  Duncan’s skin was a warm, tawny gold. And odd eyes—almost reflective. Light yellowish brown.

  Frowning, she looked back at the book on the counter and opened it, flipping to photographs in the middle. The glossy stills showed images of cougars and the one she liked the most was a face shot. It looked like the photographer had been standing close enough to touch, so close she could see the detail of the black markings on the cat’s ears.

  And his eyes.

  An odd, yellowish brown, nearly the same color as his coat. The same color as Duncan’s.

  “Huh,” she murmured, rubbing her finger across the picture.

  Kennedy was pretty sure she hadn’t ever seen eyes like that before. Well, not in a person.

  The phone rang and absently, she picked it up and said, “A Page Apart.” Finally, after three days, she was answering the phone like this place was a business, not her home.

  “Hi, Ms. Franklin?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Casey Matthews—my dad said you were trying to find a guide. Wanted to take some pictures?”

  Her first plan for finding more about the cats was just trying to find where their territory was. She wasn’t about to ask the Pride family if she could start on their land—not yet. She’d been gone a long time, and what interest did a social worker have in wild cats?

  Until she figured out how to handle that dilemma, she was settling for the State Park that bordered the land belonging to the Prides.

  “When were you wanting to go? And what were you looking for?”

  She feigned curiosity, explained she had always had an interest in photography. That at least was the truth, but curiosity didn’t quite touch her fascination with cougars.

  “I suppose I can guide you to some pretty spots…”

  That would work—for now. “I’m probably going to want to do this a few times. Will you be able to help?”

  The girl on the other end of the line agreed and Kennedy said a silent thank you. Within ten minutes, they had agreed to a date and place to meet and Casey advised Kennedy on what to wear.

  She had one week. Kennedy would rather have hooked up a little sooner, but she wasn’t going to complain. Nobody else would understand this urgency.

  Besides, a week would give her enough time to unpack her camera equipment and hopefully get a hand on some decent hiking gear. Geez…it had been nearly ten years since she had done any serious hiking.

  She glanced out the window to the sporting store across the street. It looked like she was going to have to make a trip to All Outdoors.

  Casey hung up the phone and looked at her dad. “She just wants to take some pictures. We’re going to the state park.”

  “In a week,” Zane said, arching a brow.

  The nineteen year old nodded. “Yes, sir. She tried for this weekend but…” She trailed off and shrugged, smiling a little.

  This weekend was the full moon. All of them were natural shifters, inheriting the trait through the bloodline, but still, they did feel some strange calling from the moon when it was full. It wasn’t an urge they couldn’t ignore. None of them had to Change with the rising of the full moon.

  But they did have to shift occasionally—it was a need. The full moon was as good a night as any. They gathered on Pride Mountain and went hunting.

  Even though Zane knew Casey would get Kennedy Franklin gone before nightfall, it was a wise choice. People couldn’t always control everything that happened—so why tempt fate?

  “She didn’t say anything…odd, did she?”

  Casey stared at him and he saw the echo of his belated wife in that stare. That look all women seemed to have, when men were acting like idiots. That look that said, You’re so dumb.

  “Exactly what kind of odd do you mean? A lot of people like to hike, Dad.”

  Zane scowled at his daughter and turned away. Passing a hand over his closely cropped hair, he muttered under his breath. Okay, so there was really nothing for him to worry about. It wasn’t like Kennedy Franklin had said, I want to try to find these big cats that saved me fifteen years ago.

  She had been unconscious through most of it, and terrified for the brief seconds she had seen them. Ryan had been the one to take her report and she didn’t remember most of her attack. No reason for her to remember now.

  He left without a word and knew that Casey was shaking her head as she watched him walk away.

  Yeah, he worried too much. But that was his job.

  Chapter Two

  Kennedy finished lacing up her hiking boots and cast a look at the clock. It had been more than a month since she had first gone hiking through the State Park. A month of listening to Casey Matthews drone one and one about local flora and fauna. Any time she tried to ask about cougars, the girl managed to successfully, and subtly, redirect the subject.

  A lot of people still didn’t think there were any more than a few cougars that had returned to the area, even though science had proved otherwise.

  Kennedy had seen the signs of the big cats. A few faint tracks, scat, nothing major. Certainly no sign of cats as big as the ones Kennedy had seen. And Casey never took her to exactly the same place, and more often than not, they ended up on the far side of where Kennedy wanted to look.

  So today, Kennedy was going out on her own. She’d checked and double-checked the maps and was pretty certain one of the trails would lead her close to the edge of the state-owned land. She planned on marking her own trail and all she was going to do was investigate a little more carefully along that border.

  If she found something, she’d decide what to do then.

  Her pack sat ready by the door. A couple of nutritional shakes were tucked inside, although she was leaving a small cooler in the truck with sandwiches and soft drinks in her car. She had a bottle of water, her camera, and a long flexible walking stick she’d bought when she got her hiking boots.

  Kennedy refused to think of what she would do if she managed to find some sign of the bigger cats. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

  Four hours later, Kennedy decided she had definitely made an error in judgment here. She’d gotten lost and had no idea where she was. The trail
s in this part of the park were steeper and her thighs were screaming from the strain of climbing up and down. Worse, when she’d left the trail behind nearly an hour ago, she had marked the spot. She knew she had, but now she couldn’t find any of her markers. The bright yellow tags should have stood out easily, but if she had wandered too far from the last one…

  Exhausted, she rested her back against a huge pine, breathing in the familiar woodsy scent, and tried to calm the nerves jumping in her belly.

  “Now what?” she muttered wearily.

  She took a sip from her water bottle and let the tepid water ease her dry throat. There was still a half bottle left, but considering she had really gotten herself turned around, she needed to conserve it. She might be here a while.

  They’d find her truck. The park rangers always checked the parking lots at nightfall when the park was scheduled to close and when they found her truck, and not her nearby, they’d come looking for her, right?

  So do I just stay here? she wondered. But the inactivity after about an hour nearly drove her nuts.

  Shoving to her feet, Kennedy continued to trudge through the woods, looking for some sign of a trail.

  Zane and Duncan stood staring at the shiny black truck, their expressions grim. The light of the full moon shone brightly down on them and Duncan swore viciously. This had been one hell of a month and he needed the release he’d get from a good night of roaming the woods in his other form.

  Not just the hunting, although he loved that. He needed the release that came from shifting but it didn’t look like he’d get to spend a night wearing anything other than his human skin.

  “It’s Kennedy Franklin’s truck,” Zane said unnecessarily.

  Sliding Zane a narrow look, Duncan replied testily, “I know that.”

  He also knew that Kennedy had been spending quite a bit of her time in the forest, hiking the trails, snapping pictures.

  She also asked a lot of questions about cougars. Casey had assured both Zane and Duncan that Kennedy hadn’t ever seemed interested in anything more than the natural cougars that had slowly started to repopulate the wooded areas of Michigan, but it was enough to set the Pride’s nerves on edge.