Hunting the Hunter (Second in Lone Wolf series)

Chapter Ten

　

“So stupid, you are! So ungrateful!” Warren exclaimed with rage as he paced the dirt floor of the dark, damp basement. The candles he had lit when they had arrived here had burned down to almost nothing.

Ella was standing in the cell, the iron door locked shut. The dead bodies of Warren’s three mortal pets were sprawled out on either side of her as she stood in the middle of them.

Warren had drained them dry in order to restore his strength and health and help to soothe just a bit of his rage. And there had been some serious injuries inflicted by the Hunter. Warren’s arm had been nearly wrenched off and his face a mess of cuts and welts.

Still Ella could sense the anger coming off of him in waves. She had never seen Warren so angry and she hoped that this time he would really kill her.

“You think you had it so rough with me before? So rough that you would dare to side with that Hunter and attack me?” Warren demanded as he stepped up to the bars and put his face against them, his spittle hitting Ella in the face as he bellowed his hate filled words at her.

“Answer me!!” he exclaimed, his hand shooting through the iron bars and grabbing her by the front of her green dress. He yanked on her roughly, causing her to stumble forward and hit her face roughly against the metal bars. She tasted blood in her mouth and the same substance was flowing freely from her nose.

“I have nothing to say.” she replied numbly, albeit a little wetly, as she met his angry dark eyes.

“Is that right?” Warren demanded as he shoved her backward and she barely managed to maintain her footing and keep from falling on the dead, naked dark haired woman. “You’re going to learn what it is to be a prisoner now, Ella. Welcome to your new home.”

Warren spread his arms wide and did a little circle. Ella looked around the cellar. As prisons went, she had had worse. Faugrimm had kept her in several different places, each a little worse than the next. And as far as she was concerned this dirt floor covered in water and blood with the dirt walls and iron bars were a fancy hotel with a copper tub and satin sheets compared to Warren’s bed.

“I hope you like it, Ella.” Warren hissed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Because you will be looking at nothing but this for however long I decide to let you live.”

With that, Warren turned on his heels and headed for the stairs.

“I have to get in to town and take care of a few things. If you get hungry, my dear, there may still be a few drops left.” he waved toward the dead women with his hand and then disappeared up the stairwell.

Ella went to the back wall of her new prison and slid down it as she dropped to her backside on the dirt floor.

She hated cages, though she was far past the point of panicking while in one. There had been a time when she had panicked and cried every time she had so much as seen a cage but now that was over.

If Warren was hoping to hear tears or have her plead with him to let her out then he would be sorely disappointed.

She thought of the Hunter then. Brendon. She had known he would die, so it had not come as any shock to her. Though she wished it could have happened differently.

She let herself imagine for one second that Warren had lost the fight. That it was he that had been killed. Would Brendon have killed her the way his bosses wanted him to? Ella had her doubts.

The pull between them that had made it hard for her to attack him had also made it impossible for him to kill her.

She let herself wonder what could happen if Warren was wrong and the Hunter was still alive. Would he come and rescue her? She snorted and chided herself for being foolish. The Hunter was dead and even if he had lived he certainly wouldn’t risk himself just to save her life.