Hunting the Hunter Ch. 02

He turned away before she could finished and started creeping out toward the water. Good man. He was too smart to play hero and knew when to suck it up. They'd actually made it well over half way before anyone even noticed. The shout of alarm was distant enough that she almost missed it.

They made it, finally, and slunk out of the water sticking to the shadows.

"There" she whispered and pointed to a rickety looking shack with a big wood storage at the back. She slid a panel out of the wood storage and crawled through, moving a second panel. "You first," she whispered, "I have to close up behind." He shuffled through the tight squeeze and she crawled after, fitting the panel and securing it from the inside so no one could follow without damaging it and making a helluva racket in the process.

Once inside the one room shack she slid a dresser in front of the secret door and ran over to start a fire, the faster they were dry the better. They weren't dripping anymore at least, but they were still soaked. She stripped her now water-heavy leather armor off and tossed it behind the foot of the bed with her gear, then grabbed a blanket from a cupboard and lay it out in front of the fire.

Her damp shirt clung to her and she shivered. She'd better get it off. She could feel rather than hear him pacing about behind her, so she was looking for him when she turned. She was not, however, expecting to find a broad, tanned, muscular chest in front of her. She stumbled and made to scream, but a hand came up over her mouth and tipped her head back.

She blinked.

He blinked back. Big green eyes.

He smiled. "Quiet Red, you'll wake the neighbors."

Red?

"Green?" she asked when he released her. He chuckled. "How...?" She looked down and interrupted her own question. "We need to find you a healer...now." The waters of the Rumare had washed his body clean of blood, but there were wounds everywhere. He winced and held up a hand.

"Just give me a moment to catch my breath. It will be fine." He gestured to the bed, "May I?" She blinked.

"That's a silly question, of course you can." She grabbed his elbow and helped him sit. Wow, those eyes looked even better in this face. His hair was a sandy brown and fell in damp, curling, shoulder length tendrils. It was probably wavy and delectable when dry she mused. The rest of him looked pretty mouth watering as well. He was as big as a Nord, all tanned and muscular...and even better looking. His features were finer, more...Bretonish. He definitely had to have some Mer blood in there she decided.

She released his arm when she realized she was staring and turned away, digging through her drawers for something dry. She tossed her wet shirt over a bed post and pulled out a clean dry one, pulling off her chest wrap before slipping it over her shoulders. She found some dry underwear as well. Her skin was clammy, but it was warming up slowly. At least she wasn't all sweaty yet. She smirked at herself as she mentally qualified the word 'yet.' Down girl.

She pulled out a plain looking healer's robe that was too big for her and shook it out. It had belonged to a pilgrim she'd let stay with her a few years back. Apparently celibacy had been optional for his order; lucky her. She'd hung on to it just in case and because she was a bit of a pack rat. Now she was glad she did. Though it might be a touch on the short side...it would have to do. She held it out in front of her and turned around.

His eyes were closed and he was sitting with his legs open and his big hands resting fingers-in on his knees. Every muscle and tendon seemed to tense and go taunt, as though he was supporting some great weight on his slightly bent shoulders.

His brow was stern and his square jaw tight with concentration. It was quite the image. She tried to impose his image on that of the lions and found it difficult. Her gut told her it was him, and she felt comfortable with him, and certainly drawn to him in a strange, indescribable way, but she did wonder if this was the same creature who'd taken her by that lake those few weeks ago.

The memory made her stomach stir with excitement. She could feel her hands dampen against the material of the pilgrims robe.

'I said, down girl.'

Without warning a gentle, cool, yellowish glow, like sunlight, began to emanate from him, and she watched as the big ugly gash along his side slowly closed up from the inside out and shrunk until it wasn't much more than a deep scratch. The saw no spell and was intrigued. It seemed he understood intuitive magic as well. The other wounds seem to fade as well, leaving only the mildest of scratches and faded bruises here and there. Nothing serious.

She smirked, she'd done worse to people she liked. But then...Dunmer. 'Seriously, what don't you understand about the word DOWN'? She shook her head at herself and handed the robe to him.

He looked up. The usual vibrant glow was out of his eyes, he looked terrible. He took the robe and she went about looking for something to eat. There wasn't much and she was a lousy cook. But there was plenty of wine and sujama. Now if she had a little ash yam, a little wickweat, a few stone flowers, and could bind it all with a little resin then viola! He'd be as strong as a blighted Kagouti. Too bad this wasn't Morrowind.

"Haha!" she crowed, Flin. Not much was left, but it would do in a pinch. She poured two glasses and gave it to him, scraping a chair across the floor to sit in front of him. She propped her legs up on the bed and crossed her ankles. "Don't worry, this is the expensive stuff, it won't make you stupid." He raised the glass to her in a salute and took a sip. His face screwed up a little.

"This is the expensive stuff?"

She smiled blandly. "Where I'm from it is. Import laws, you know. "She waved a hand, then cocked her head at him in appraisal. "I thought this whole situation was bizarre before. But now...is there a reason you didn't tell me you could...you know...do that?" he sighed and looked down at his glass.

"A really good reason?"

She chuckled at that. "I'll take a half decent one."

"Well that's good."

"I bet."

He cleared his throat, he really didn't have a good reason, not at least in light of what happened the last time he'd seen her.

"We're trying to keep our existence hidden."

"Good job you're doing." Damn but she sounded like Mirisa just there. That's why Mirisa doesn't like her, they're too much alike. They'd probably rip each other apart. It might be fun to watch if they weren't both capable of doing real and lasting harm to one another. She smirked and held up her hands, "I tease. So" she continued "you thought I might give you away if I knew what you were? That hardly seems likely. What are you by the way? You know, unless you want to play twenty questions again?" He couldn't help but smile at that.

"We're shifters, or sort of."

"Shifters? Like werewolves?" She'd heard of cases from Solsthiem, though many believed they were just rumors and fairy tales.

"Not quite. We don't have an 'in between' form, and you can't contract it. You have to be born that way." He looked up and saw her rubbing the back of her neck absently and he winced at the reminder. It had a rough few weeks for him.

"I see. Are the others like you?"

"Yes."

"Are there lots?"

"Not anymore."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Is it those hunters?" He nodded. She did look sorry. He knew he could trust her. He nodded again.

"They've been hunting us down for years, and it just gets worse. We keep having to move from place to place to avoid them, but they keep catching up. Originally we're from the Dragon Tail range, and further north, but we find ourselves being pushed farther east. It's harder because of the little ones."

"Little ones?" she asked when he paused to take a drink.

"The children."

"Ah. Do...do you have any?"

"A daughter. My mate was killed several years ago. Now there's only a few of us. Mirisa...blue as you call her, lost her mate as well. There is only one mated pair left among us right now."

"So you and Bl-Mirisa, aren't...you know..." He shook his head, then frowned and wondered if it was wise to say too much.

"You? Do you have any children, or a...partner?" he asked steering the conversation away from him. She laughed.

"I'm a bit young for that."

Young? Hadn't she said she was in her eighties? She was older than him.

"Then again...I'm getting close...and they say if you sleep with non-Mer it can induce fertility early. I've certainly done my share of that in the last twenty years. You see, we have rather lengthy bouts of infertility in my race..." She stopped and frowned.

"What is it?" She shook her head and looked down at her drink and rubbed her palm on her bare thigh. He'd been trying not to look at them and he winced as he got an eyeful and was forced to tear his gaze away and tried not to breathe too deeply.

He'd been right about it being painful. He hadn't passed a single night not filled with thoughts of her, and more than a few of which were ended with him waking in a cold sweat. It was all he could do to keep himself from following every time he caught her scent while hunting. It was like a beacon in his brain, pulsing away. And here she was, half naked, drink in hand, and so incredibly, painfully...he gritted his teeth and forced the feelings down. The urge to claim her again was a powerful one, but it would just make it worse for him if he did. She was Not his mate. She'd never consented. He needed to crush the idea and bury it. Deeply. Very deeply.

She frowned even more and turned her palm up to look at it as if there were something written there, then arched a brow at nothing in particular, muttering something he couldn't understand under her breath.

"Red?" he asked when she continued to look lost in thought. Her head snapped up and she open her mouth, then laughed.

"Is that pay back for calling you Green all the time?" He smiled back.

"That, and I don't know your name." She blinked.

"I guess you don't do you. Inanna. It's actually a Khajiit name, but that's a long story." She leaned forward over his knee and put out a hand. He took it and felt a little shock run up his arm, though it was not unpleasant by any means. The way her eyes widened ever so slightly, suggested that she felt it too. He took a deep breath to shake it off. It was, for obvious reasons, a huge mistake. He swallowed hard as her scent filled his head and his mouth began to water.

"Inanna" he repeated. He hadn't released her hand.

"And you might be?" He opened his mouth to respond when a knock came at the door. He was disappointed when she pulled away. Her small hand slipped from his like water through a sieve.

"Hold that thought." She said lowly and jumped to her feet. She slid soundlessly over to the door and peered through a crack in the frame. She said nothing. The knock came again. 'Fetchers' she thought. It was the hunters. She could tell by the expressions on their faces, though she could only see two of them.

She backed up until she was near the fire. Then gathered her breath waiting for the next knock.

"Fetch off s'wit." She hollered. "Can't you see I'm not interested." She grinned at the surprised look he gave her. 'And here I bet he thought I was a lady.' The knock came again. "Knock one more time and I'll rip your arm from its socket and feed it to a guar, N'wah." They didn't knock, which made her smile. They could tell she was serious. They weren't quite as stupid as she thought. Pity.

"Open up, we know you're hiding the creature. Give it up and we'll let you go."

She looked at her friend who was watching her from the foot of the bed.

"Choices, choices," she whispered to him with a sly smile. He frowned. He didn't honestly think she'd give him up did he? No matter. "Do I know you?" She asked in a saccharine sing-song voice. There was a pause.

"No" they answered uncertainly.

"Are you with the legion?" Also sing song.

"No." This time irritated.

"Are you a city guard?"

"No!"

"Then sod off drunk."

"But the guard is on its way." The voice warned. Damn. Inanna felt her smile fade fast. She'd have to think of something. She needed something to sow doubt in their story. But her hair was still wet, he was still covered in fresh scratches, even the healing spell he'd worked on himself couldn't get rid of everything, and they were both tired and worn out. They most certainly looked like they had just got into a fight and swam across the lake. Besides, you did not fight or argue with the guards, so that option was out. The waterfront guards knew her, and some rather well, but if their story didn't sell, then even the ones who liked her weren't gonna buy. 'What was their story?' She thought tapping her teeth,' what could cause scratches, make them sweaty, damp...oh wait...yes, that'. She grinned evilly.

"You shy?" she asked under breathe.

He frowned. "No."

"Good."

Feric almost groaned when she whipped off her shirt and tossed it over a chair. When she did the same with her briefs he stopped breathing. He hadn't forgotten how alluring she was, with her lithe body, wonderfully curved and tightly muscled at once, but the reality was so much better than memories and heated dreams.

"Get naked."

"What?"

"I don't have time to explain and argue just do it. Do you trust me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Then with my life." And my tribes, he added silently and morosely.

"Good, strip." She grinned. He cocked a brow at her, but complied. What else was he to do? Though frankly, a not so tiny voice was thrilled at the prospect and his head was rapidly filling with inappropriate and untimely thoughts.

"Alright," he said standing in front of her, hands on his hips, using every ounce of will to suppress his growing erection, "now what?"

She turned around and cleared the table with one arm, letting a plate smash on the floor then hopped on top and leaned back, spreading her long legs and completely exposing the dark slick folds of her already glistening sex to him. The sight incinerated the last of his will power. He swore under his breath and saw red, or rather red and silvery gray. He had to focus hard to hear the rest of her words.

"Now you need to take me. The rougher the better, this has to look good. If you need a pick me up there's some suj..."she looked up at him, then down, and got what he thought could only be described as a feral look in her eye, "...then again, maybe you don't." She met his eye and held an arm out to him, inviting him to join her on the other side of the room. Since every fiber of his being was already desperate to take her, and had been for days, it didn't take any more coaxing than that.

He was up against her, wrapping her legs around his waist, and pressing his mouth down hard against hers before she had the chance to offer any more encouragement. He realized as he ravished her mouth with his tongue and listened with unending pleasure to her low moans, that this was their first kiss. He tried to make it a good one. She tasted as good as she smelt, so it certainly didn't lack enthusiasm.

He pulled away breathing hard with a desire that was rapidly flooding his veins and bringing on that dangerous dark fog again. He took a deep breath to clear his mind and grunted as he felt a fist close roughly in his hair to drag him back down to her red, swollen mouth for more.

He shifted sliding himself against her sex, finding her already wet and hot and ready, and pressed himself eagerly into her. She reached between them to guide him and he groaned against her warm spicy tongue as he was pulled inch by inch inside her. She felt just as good in this form. Better even. He could feel her smooth elastic flesh under his fingers, and the silky brush of skin against skin. He pressed inside of her and she wrapped around him, pressing her fingers and nails into his back, keening low in her throat.

He closed his eyes and for the moment let himself fall into the fantasy that had plagued him nightly for the last month. He let himself want her, let himself have her, and pretend, for that brief moment at least, that she really was his mate. He nearly died from pleasure.

He felt so good. She couldn't remember the last man who felt so good. Was there ever one? She panted as he began to thrust into her with long, driving movements, and clung to his shoulders, loving the hard muscle playing beneath her fingers. He felt...heroic, god-like even. Maybe he was Daedra after all, or one of those benign imperial Gods. Only something divine could feel so incredible. Somewhere in her mind she knew it could be the fertility talking. But at this point, who could bring themselves to care?

She figured it was probably the onset of fertility which had been messing with her body and her head. When he had brought up children it had finally struck her as the likeliest answer. It wasn't too early after all, and she was living in the Province of Cyrodiil now, so more Men than Mer were available to her. Extreme hormones would certainly explain why she was OK with screwing a lion in a...oh lord, but he felt so good. No, fertile or not, he was perfection.

She ran her tongue up his neck when he buried his face in her hair, pressing her back against the table, which was beginning to groan under the strain of his thrusts. He tasted good too. He growled softly, and she would have laughed if she wasn't so busy letting out whimpering moans of pleasure. What a sexy sound the growl was too, it was sending the most wonderful shivers up her spine. Let's see if she couldn't get him to make it again. Oh my, she could. She growled back and dug her nails in, scoring his back and thrusting her hips up to meet his.

She could feel him leaving his own finger size bruises on her hips and backside. All the better for when people come charging in looking for answers. And even if it wasn't, she was going to love having a keepsake to remind her later anyway. The marks he left on her neck could be felt, but were impossible to see without two really good mirrors and a flexible spine. Speaking of which...

She was flat out on her back clutching at the edge of the table for dear life, one leg hooked over his arm, and the other over his shoulder as he pounded mercilessly into her when the knocking started again. He slowed.

"Don't you dare stop" she growled and ground her hips against his. He squeezed his eyes shut and made a grimace.

"As you wish." His voice was rough and gravely and made her shiver from her toes to the top of her head.

"Open up Inanna." A voice called from outside. Her lover chuckled darkly and slammed into her hard, making her cry out loud enough for everyone else to hear, so they knew exactly to whom she belonged.

"Indeed." He murmured as he thrust again.

'Oh, you wonderful, naughty...'

"Inanna. It's Maximus you need to open up, we have reason to believe you're in danger. Please open up, we will use force."

"Go away" she yelled back breathlessly.

He leaned even further over her, still pounding, using the table as leverage as he gripped the edge behind her head. Max wasn't the only one using force. She wrapped her arms around him as she felt and heard the door buckle under the first blow...it should only take three, she thought, and she pressed her mouth to his.

And she was so enjoying herself. What a horrible waste. That was good though, she wanted to be pissed. She wanted him pissed. They would be. Those fetchers won't know what hit them, and they needed to sell this. The truth sold itself, but she just prayed they'd get to finish it later. If they didn't...someone would die...not a joke. The next slam came, almost knocking the door in. Third times the charm. She heard, or rather felt him begin to growl in her arms.