The Theft of the Huntsman by S.K. O'Brien

Author:S.K. O'Brien
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Paranormal, Witches, Wolves
Publisher: Sammantha Saffell
Published: 2024-08-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The start of my drive was filled with anger at a level I had never felt before. The Huntsman was a thief that had no moral code, no love for the art of thieving, or for what he stole. He stole to say that he could do it and to make money. It is probably why it was so easy for him to harm others. Gunner was in jail because of The Huntsman. Now, I was in The Huntman’s grasp and had no way out.

As I drove, a thought crossed my mind: how was he finding out thieves' identities? Did he find their hideouts? Did he pay off collectors within our world to learn who we were? The Broker had a large business that was supposed to ensure the safety of his clients. Turning names over to The Huntsman would destroy his business. Other collectors didn’t run as clean of a business. Of course, there was a chance he was blackmailing one.

The Huntsman working for Icarus meant he had access to a database of names and images of thieves. It would provide him with several individuals but not as many as it seemed he had. How was he finding us? How did he find me? Another thought crossed my mind.

I pulled my car over and reached across to the glovebox. I found my flashlight, hopped out of the car, and began to move around the vehicle. I checked the wheel wells getting on my knees. I checked the bumpers, running my hands on the underside and back of the bumper. I moved to the passenger side of my car and lay on the ground. I shined my flashlight at the chassis of the car, checking every inch of the undercarriage I could see. There was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. I stood up and thought about where else you could place a tracker easily on a car. Under the hood would be too hot, causing the tracker to burn and die quickly. Inside the car was my next best choice. I climbed into the backseat of the car and searched under the backseats and the floor mats. I moved to the seats and ran my hand over the lining. I checked the back pockets of the front seats. Nothing was there. I moved to the front seat and searched the center console, the glovebox, and any other area I could think of. I found nothing. I didn’t like the idea of driving my car back to my home. What if there was a tracker on my car? The only way to ensure I wasn’t being tracked was to dump the car. The question became how would I get home?

I started the car and headed in a different direction from my home. I turned left at the next turn, I made another left and kept driving until I made it to the train station. I parked the car at the back of the lot where the camera would not be able to get a clear picture of me.

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