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CHAPTER FORTY

AMbrOSE

I think I understand Sawyer and Jaxon a lot better now.

Mercy sits across from me at the dining room table, eating the omelet I made for her—by the time we got out of the shower, it was nearly dawn. I tried to get her to go back to sleep, tucking her into my bed before I went to clean up the mess I made in her room. I didn’t mind, though, just as I didn’t mind washing her. Blood sure as hell doesn’t bother a creature like me.

It was worth it anyway, to see her come as my blood poured over her. As I marked her as mine.

Mine. That’s all I can think, looking at her now. Mine to feed and protect and care for. Mine to fuck. Mine to pleasure. And the fact that Gunner is still searching for her, wanting to drag her back into fucking servitude, enrages me.

But then Mercy gives me a shy, somewhat confused smile, and the rage recedes. Because he might think he still has a claim on her, but I’m the one that baptized her in my name.

And she let me. She came while I was doing it.

“This omelet is delicious,” she says, taking a sip of her coffee .

“Good to know.” I made one for myself, although unlike hers, mine has meat layered in with the cheese and vegetables. Dane Weeks, a man I hunted a few months back.

Just like I’m going to hunt Sterling Gunner.

We eat in silence for a few minutes, forks scraping against the plates. And then Mercy asks,

“Were you serious?”

I look up at her, but she’s got her eyes on her plate as she pushes a bit of omelet around. I know what she’s referring to, but I still wait for her to say it.

“About—” She swallows. “About Reverend Gunner?”

“Of course I was serious.” Excitement works through my veins. “But I will need your help, like I said.” I take a big bite of my omelet, biting down on a hunk of Dane Weeks. Gunner will taste even sweeter, I’m sure.

Mercy finally lifts her gaze. She looks so damn pretty, the morning sunlight turning her loose hair to spun gold. I want to see her at my table every morning, her big brown eyes and soft, lovely lips. It’s a startling thought. An unfamiliar thought. But it makes me feel good anyway.

“You said I would be bait,” she says softly.

Hearing it like that, I have to resist the urge to cringe. It does sound callous. “I need to get Gunner and Sullivan out in the desert. But I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“I know.” She looks right at me as she speaks, and I feel it in my chest, her trust in me. Another weird, unfamiliar sensation. “What would I need to do?”

I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about this since last night. “I’ll tell them I kidnapped you, and I’ll return you if they bring some money out to a meeting spot.”

“In the flatlands,” Mercy says.

I nod. “Someplace isolated. I’ll attack before they can take you anywhere.”

Mercy takes a deep breath. I can tell she’s thinking things over. And I let her, even though I’ve got my own fantasies about how this will play out.

“How much money would you ask for?”

I blink, surprised by the question. “What? Why does that matter?”

She looks up at me, a coy smile on her lips, and I realize she’s teasing me. “I was just curious how much you think I’m worth.”

I grin. “You’re priceless, humanita. That’s why I’m not gonna let them take you back.”

It’s the right thing to say: her eyes light up and she ducks her gaze down, her hair falling into her eyes. And suddenly I wish she wasn’t on the other side of the table. I wish she was sitting right beside me so I could grab her chair and pull her over and kiss her.

“No one’s ever called me priceless before,” she mutters.

Rage flares in my chest again. “Well, you are. As for how much money I’ll ask for, you tell me. It needs to be something reasonable that Gunner can get together in a few days. We want to make sure he and Sullivan actually make it out there.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.” Mercy frowns. “Money’s not an issue, really. It’s just a matter of what he thinks would be worth it. For me, I mean. I—” Her voice catches a little, and she looks toward the window. “I know I’m not worth that much to him.”

“You can expose him,” I say sharply. “And as far as he’s concerned, that’s why I kidnapped you.” I say the word dripping with sarcasm. Mercy smiles devilishly, a look I like on her.

“You did kidnap me.”

“Has it been so bad?” I know I’m treading on thin ice, asking this, and I brace myself for Mercy to unravel the nice little fantasy I have set up here, me and her and sunny breakfasts after a night of depraved fucking, every morning until she does what humans inevitably do. But that’s a long, long time off, and I don’t dwell on it.

But she doesn’t shatter the fantasy at all.

“No,” she says. “No, it hasn’t been bad at all.” A smile dances across her lips. “I don’t know what that says about me?—“

“It doesn’t say anything about you .” I push my plate aside and lean forward, never taking my eyes off her. Pinning her down with my gaze. I like the way she squirms against it. The way her lips part and her eyes gleam. “But it does mean you’ve found a place you can call home, for as long as you want it.”

It’s a risk, saying shit like this to her, but I mean it. Especially when her eyes get all wide and disbelieving and shimmer like she’s about to start crying. And I know they aren’t tears of fear or pain or sadness, but I still don’t want her crying anymore. So I fly around the table, moving faster than I should until she’s in my arms.

“You’ve got to stop doing that,” she says with a nervous chuckle. “Moving so fast. It’s unnatural.”

I just nuzzle against her hair, breathing her in. “That’s just one way I’m gonna keep you safe,” I whisper. “Now. Say the word, and I’ll get things started.”

Mercy lays her cheeks against my shoulder, and I pull her up to me, holding her close. It feels good, holding a woman like this. Promising to protect her. I never gave a shit about being human or doing things humans do. But this one thing? Caring for a woman? Making sure she’s happy?

It’s the one thing I’m willing to make an exception for.

Even though I’m still gonna do it in the way only a Hunter can.