Hunter's Prey by Moira Rogers

Author:Moira Rogers [Rogers, Moira]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Romance, Paranormal, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction, Steampunk
Amazon: B0069V8Q7S
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2012-03-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The man on the front porch, hat in hand, was no one to be trifled with in spite of his formal clothes. His hands were rough, scarred, and he ran one through his long silver hair as Hunter stared at him.

“Need to see Wilder Harding,” he said shortly.

Bloodhound. Hunter’s inner voice was getting clearer. Or maybe this was common sense more than instinct, because it was hard to imagine the arrogant ease with which the older man watched him could belong to a human. No, this was a bloodhound—an old one, a strong one—and his presence could mean nothing good. “Wilder is on a job.”

The hound held out his hand. “Emmett Bascomb. The Guild sent me.”

Hunter damn near bit through his own tongue to keep a curse in check. Instead he clasped the older man’s hand, fighting the urge to turn it into a challenge. “I’m Hunter.”

Emmett’s faded blue eyes sparked with appraisal, and he heaved a sigh. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”

“No, I don’t reckon we have.” For all he knew, the man kept track of every bloodhound alive. He looked old enough to have been there when most of them were made. “I thought the Guild knew about me.”

Instead of answering, Emmett turned his gaze toward the dusty, empty street. “I came to ask after Ada’s girl too, and see how y’all are making it without Nate.”

Keeping the man at the door was rude, but inviting him in was dangerous, especially with Nate feeling brave enough to venture out of the basement. “By Ada’s girl, you mean Satira?”

“Right, that was the name.” He turned his hat over in his hands. “This manor’s Guild property. I don’t need your permission to come inside, but I’d prefer it.”

A blatant challenge. Hunter’s hand tightened on the doorframe in spite of himself, muscles tensing until he could visualize the grain of the wood beneath his fingertips. He’d end up with splinters and another repair job, but at least it would be better than hitting Emmett.

Probably. Taking a deep breath, he stepped aside. “Satira’s with Wilder. I’m doing my best to look after the town and the manor while they see to their work.”

“I see.” He walked in out of the afternoon sunlight and looked around the foyer. “What about Archer?”

“Also with them. We’ve had some trouble with the local law.”

He shook his head. “Damn shame, when they don’t recognize the importance of cooperation.”

“Afraid it was more serious.” Hunter shut the door and gestured toward the sitting room. If he could get the man sitting down, he could warn Ophelia to keep Nate out of sight. “I need to let our housekeeper know we’ll have a guest for…the night? Longer?”

“Longer, I believe.” Emmett dropped to a chair and eyed Hunter. “When is Harding due back?”

“I expect a message from them tonight, if they can find a telegraph station.” Hunter tilted his head to the right. “Let me speak to the housekeeper first, and then I’ll tell you everything.”

Emmett hung his hat on his knee and sat back.

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