Hunters' Shadow (Book one of the Hunter Chronicles)

Chapter Forty Seven



As her blurred vision began to clear, Hannah pulled herself upright; her fingers grazing the rough woollen sheets covering her aching body. As she moved her head to look around a sharp pain shot through her neck, and she let out an involuntary gasp. The sound echoed strangely around her. She reached up to clasp the source of the pain in her hand, the skin throbbing when she touched it.

What happened? The forest... The rain... Amara! She tried to lift herself off the bed, but her legs refused to cooperate, shaking violently when she tried to put her weight on them. Her head felt woozy, like her thoughts were running through tar, and she couldn't remember...

She looked up, her heart quickening as her mind valiantly fought the haze to remind her of the strong arms that had grabbed her, pinning her down from behind. She almost gagged as she remembered the stench of the filthy hands that had held her while they injected her with... something.

Where the hell was she?

Her eyes refused to cooperate. Squeezing the lids shut, she blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the lingering fuzziness. Confusion washed over her as her eyes flickered about a small room, windowless, undecorated and with thick stone walls that loomed over her bed, closing her in from all sides.

An artificial light from a small lamp in the corner cast deep shadows across the exposed stone, masking the size of the cell with large swathes of inky darkness. So engrossed in her examination was she, that it took her a few moments to realise she wasn't alone.

He sat by the only escape route, perfectly still. His eyes so black they looked like voids in the hollows of his head, his clothes blending in to the darkness as though he belonged there. A shadow blending into shadows, come to torment her dreams.

The man in black.

Her eyes locked on to his and she recognised him instantly. She doubted she’d ever forget his face. The look of vicious pleasure he'd worn as he stalked towards her in the hospital was absent, but she vividly remembered how he'd held the blade in his hand, dripping fresh blood upon the tiles on the floor.

Her first reaction was one of understandable panic.

Eyes darting around the room for another escape, she scrambled off the bed, half-stumbling as her legs protested the sudden movement. Retreating as far from his still form as she could, she pressed her back firmly into the wall.

There was nowhere to go and, engulfed by her moment of fear, she rejoiced in the feel of the rough grain of the rock scraping against her skin, as though it could somehow protect her from her nightmare. Desperately, she willed her uncooperative body to perform a miracle and sink into the solid stone behind her.

He’d tried to kill her.

She always knew he would come back for her. Irrationally, she wondered what had taken him so long. Had he been biding his time, waiting for his chance to finish what he'd started? Well, here it was and this time, she was helpless to stop him.

Her panic increased. She felt a cold sweat wash over her as her breathing sped up. Any second now, she'd feel the keen slice of his blade against her throat and it would all be over. She turned her face away, her ears straining for the tell-tale footsteps heading towards her.

Then, after several minutes of uncharacteristic cowering, her still befuddled mind began to shake off the remnants of the drug in her system and question the logic behind her conviction.

Why go to all the trouble of kidnapping someone if your intention is to murder them? If he'd wanted to kill her, he would have had plenty of opportunities out in the forest. Taking a deep and steadying breath, she risked a second, cautious look at her captor.