Night had fallen some time ago and with it came more snow, the heavens had opened, and big fat flakes fall continuously from the heavy, thick clouds above. The ground is white everywhere I look, mostly undisturbed as everyone on this street tucks themself safely away in their warm homes. I’d switched out my heeled boots for my docs and given myself more spaces on my body for weapons. I’d be stupid to underestimate Hunter, I may have the element of surprise, but the man was a trained killer, he was skilled in all weapons and without them, and he knew how to kill a man in a second and make it look like an accident.
I’d have barely a minute to get in and out without making him aware of my presence, and I would only have one shot. I wouldn’t – couldn’t – miss.
I pull the hood up to cover myself and silently take out my gun, double checking the weapon as I round the corner and Hunter’s house comes into view. The car hasn’t moved from the drive, it’s now covered in a thick layer of snow though I can still see the deep scratch I put into the paintwork earlier. I got far too much satisfaction doing that and imagining it was Hunter’s chest my knife was slicing through.
There were no lights on inside the house, no sign of life within. It was completely possible he wasn’t even home, but there was only one way to find out.
I creep up the driveway, close to the fence line and head around the back, allowing myself to be swallowed by the darkness, too eager to let my fear of the dark stop me. I’m silent and quick, my body moving on pure instinct. I could feel the little bubble of excitement blooming deep within my gut, my blood pumping steadily. I ignore the bite of the wind, the brutal chill that wants to freeze my fingers and toes. The backside of the house is as dark as the front and I drop down into a crouch as I work my way towards the set of French doors that I hope will be unlocked, if not I’ll have to break a window.
My fingers curl around the frozen metal handle and by sheer luck, the handle compresses and the door silently swings inward.
I step inside, welcoming the warmth.
A glance around the room tells me I’m in a dining area, a large table dominates the centre of the room, and one wall is filled with shelves upon shelves of books. My shoes leave snowy prints on the wooden floor but I’m careful with my steps as I make my way through the space, my weapon drawn and ready. I exit into a hall bare of any paintings or photographs and follow it down until it opens out into a kitchen.
Holding my breath, I press myself to the wall, careful not to make a sound as I peer into the darkened room. It’s hard to see but there’s enough light coming in from the streetlamps outside to cast a glow into the room. I scan the sides, the walls but then my heart stops as I come across the large figure of a man standing in front of the kitchen sink. His back is to me, but I don’t need to see his face to know who it is.
“Hello, Snow,” His voice sends an unwelcomed jolt of heat through my body. How long had it been since I’d heard the deep timber of his voice? Felt the vibration of it against my skin as he whispered all the things he wanted to do to me, and then proceeded to do. The thought makes my thighs ache.
I don’t waste a second, I couldn’t let my memories of our time together stop my need for vengeance. I level the gun at the back of his head and do not hesitate when I press the trigger.
I didn’t see him move, but he had and my bullet misses, shattering the window instead.
“You should know, Isobel, that missing is a death sentence.”
Fuck.
I bolt.
My legs pump as I sprint back towards the doors in the dining room, but his laughter follows me, that cruel dark chuckle sending warning shivers down my spine.
“It’s been a long time, Isobel,” he says, voice quieter now I’m further away. He doesn’t appear to be chasing, “it’s the right time for us to be reunited.”
I don’t hang around to wait for his next words. I skid as I hit the snow, slipping a little but manage to get my footing and run back down the side of the house, back towards the car I’d parked on the next street.
How did he know I was coming!? How did he know!?
My heart is in my throat, my stomach in knots but that damning arousal makes something low in my stomach clench with need. But it was like that with him, he always made me that way when we were together and while I hated him, hated his every fiber and being, my body remembers how it used to be.
I grab the door handle to my car, but sudden arms around my middle yank me back and I slam against a solid chest. A hand grips my chin, forcing my head back until I can see him clearly.
He was both an angel and a demon, graced with a cruelly handsome face, made of sharp brutal lines. His eyes are a hazel color, but the vivid amber in them makes them almost fiery and he’s let his facial hair grow out, leaving a thick dark stubble to frame his delectably vicious mouth. Snowflakes crest the dark strands of his hair.
“You came looking for me, Snow, and you’re already trying to run.”
“I will kill you!” I snap, jerking in his arms.
“You’ve tried already,” he leans in, pressing his nose against my hair where he then inhales sharply, “and you failed.”
Subtly, I slip my hand beneath my sweater, fingers curling around the handle of my knife. “Not this time,” I growl as I rip it out of its sheathe and bury it into his side. Blood instantly seeps through his t-shirt and then through my sweater, warm but quickly cooling. He grunts but his grip on me doesn’t let up.
Instead, he presses his hardening cock into my ass, grinding the length against me.
“Fuck, Snow,” he licks my cheek, “I’ve missed you.”
“You sick fuck!”
“I waited for you,” pain makes his voice rough, breathless, “you came to me. Now you’re mine.”
I don’t see the cloth until it’s too late. He presses the soft material over my mouth and nose, forcing me to inhale the fumes of whatever fucking sedative he’s doused it in. It’s a vaguely sweet smell but earthy too, one I can’t name in my panic.
“Shh,” Hunter coaxes, holding it tight against my mouth as I claw at his arm, trying to free myself while also trying to hold my breath. I feel my senses becoming clouded, my vision blurring but I don’t stop fighting. I feel his skin tear beneath my nails, feel more of his blood on my skin. “You can sleep now, Snow, I’ve got you.”
My mumbled no is nothing but breath as I feel the fight start to leave me. My arms become too heavy to hold, my body too heavy for my legs to keep upright. I clutch that thin thread of consciousness, but too soon, it slips between my fingers and then oblivion claims me.