Hunter's Edge

Chapter Fourteen

Straight to Hell

Kel awoke feeling it.

Two days after things with Phoebe went straight to hell, Kel woke to feel something pulling at him. Strong, demanding and determined to be obeyed.

He dressed hurriedly. Most of the Hunters had adopted a uniform of sorts, sturdy cargo pants done in basic black, close-fitting black shirt—long sleeved to keep as much skin concealed as possible, and sturdy, thick-soled boots. The shoulder holster went on over his shirt and then he put a jacket over that to conceal his weapon.

Tucking extra ammo clips into one of the pockets on his pants, he grabbed his gun, checked it and then slid the modified Beretta into the holster.

A couple of knives, one in his boot and another sheathed at his waist. After snagging a pair of reinforced cuffs, he was ready.

Slipping out of the room, he left the basement and headed to the main floor. A quick glance around told him that none of the other Hunters had felt it.

But he did. That low-level burn deep in his gut, one that would get stronger and stronger until he obeyed. Until he listened. Until he Hunted.

He was tired. His daytime slumber had been restless. Although he couldn't fight the urge to sleep yet, he didn't always sleep well. Normally, it wasn't so bad. Dreams of Angel, which really sucked, but at the same time, they'd soothed him. Made him feel a little closer.

But this time? Instead of falling into that deep, mostly restful sleep, he'd kept feeling something pull at him. Like he wasn't supposed to be asleep.

That totally fucking pissed him off. If it was the only time he could be close to her, watching her without her knowing, drifting through her subconscious mind while he slept, then damn it, he wanted those dreams.

Odd—he'd spent twelve years waiting for something to reduce the in-living-color intensity of those dreams and the one day something did intrude? He woke resentful, tired and pissed.

Usually once the sun was nearing the western horizon, his body forced him into wakefulness, tearing him from the dreams long before he was ready. The vampire instincts took control, though, and sleeping once the sun had set was all but impossible. His body wouldn't let him.

Tonight, different story. If he could shut down a deep, basic instinct and just stay in the bed, he knew would have slept. His body needed it, craved it.

But that low-level burn was there. That primal urge that no Hunter could ignore, pulling—like something had wrapped an unseen rope around his gut and was jerking on him.

Ignoring it wouldn't do much but bring him pain and stretch his control.

So he didn't ignore it.

He slid out of the house without speaking to anybody, although he knew both Rafe and Toronto watched him leave. He took the bike. Usually that was one thing that would ease the restlessness in him. Tonight, the powerful rumble of the bike didn't do a damn thing to help.

The restlessness wasn't just restlessness—it had grown into a full-out frenzy and if he didn't find it...

No.

Not it.

Her.

He could feel that much now. Hear a woman's scream as though he was right next to her. He kept going and going, following that internal summons all the way through town, heading for the Mississippi state line. There were no formal lines to Rafe's territory—Rafe and his Hunters followed urges into other states plenty and Kel was evidence of that. The calling a Hunter heard wasn't anything clear and defined and Kel wouldn't know where it was going to lead him until he was there.