Page 14 of Hunter's Game
Someone who wanted to help her master it rather than control it.
Someone who saw the weapon she’d become and wanted to help her grow sharper.
The world seemed to align perfectly around them as they rode, responding to subtle patterns Eden was just beginning to recognize.
The war was about to enter a new phase. And this time, she wasn’t fighting it alone. After all, some powers were meant to reshape reality. Some truths were meant to burn away shadows. Some partnerships were written in blood and bullets rather than trust and promises. And whatever was building between them? That was just getting started.
The wheels of fate were turning, and nothing could halt the impending storm that was about to be unleashed.
The safe house was exactly what you’d expect from a DEA operation—sparse, secure, and completely off the grid. Or at least, that’s what it had been before Eden had modified it to suit her real purposes.
Hunter’s trained eye caught the subtle additions as they entered: signal jammers disguised as smoke detectors, cameras hidden in light fixtures, enough technology to run a small intelligence operation seamlessly integrated into what looked like a standard apartment. She was proud of all the upgrades she’d done, and she could tell he admired them as well.
Eden’s hands shook slightly as she connected the stolen hard drive to her laptop, adrenaline and blood loss evidently taking their toll. The graze on her side had stopped bleeding, but the torn dress was a lost cause.
Behind her, Hunter prowled the perimeter of the small apartment like a caged predator, his controlled movements betraying his military training, and his unease at being in an unknown tacticalsituation.
“You going to tell me who you really work for?” She kept her eyes on the decryption program running across her screen, but her attention was fixed on his reflection in the dark window. “Since we’re doing the whole honesty thing now.”
“You first.” His voice was granite—hard and unyielding. “Three years undercover in your own father’s organization? That’s not just a job—that’s a vendetta.”
Eden’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. The decryption could wait. This conversation couldn’t.
“You read my file.” It wasn’t a question. She studied his reflection, noting how he never quite turned his back to her despite their apparent alliance.
“Enough to know you shouldn’t be anywhere near this operation.” He turned to face her, moonlight casting harsh shadows across features that had been haunting her dreams since that first night at the bar. “Conflict of interest doesn’t begin to cover it.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” The words came out sharper than intended, carrying echoes of older arguments with DEA superiors who’d tried to pull her off the case.
“I know you flinch every time Merrick touches you. I know you’ve got scars on your ribs that aren’t from motorcycle accidents. And I know you’re playing a very dangerous game using federal resources for personal revenge.”
Eden was across the room before she could think better of it, getting right in his face. The movement pulled at her injury, but anger overrode the pain. “You want to know the truth? Fine. My father is a monster who spent years building an empire on blood money and broken bodies. I watched him kill people, Hunter. Watched him destroy lives and families while everyone looked the other way because they were too afraid to stop him.”
Her breaths came rapidly as the memories surfaced, despite her attempts to suppress them: her father’s hands covered in blood that wasn’t his own, her mother’s desperate attempts to shield her from the worst of it, the night everything changed and she learned that sometimes the monsters won.
“So you joined the DEA to what? Get close enough to put a bullet in him?” But there was something in Hunter’s voice beyond judgment. Understanding, maybe. Or recognition.
“I joined the DEA because they were the only ones willing to give me the resources to bring him down legally.” She forced herself to step back, to breathe through the rage and pain that always accompanied thoughts of her father. “The art theft operation is just the tip of the iceberg. He’s got judges in his pocket, cops on his payroll, politicians eating out of his hand. The only way to end it is to cut off every head of the hydra at once.”
Hunter studied her for a long moment. She met his gaze steadily, letting him see the truth in her eyes. Finally, he spoke.
“Blind Jacks MC.”
“What?” She had a vague memory of him mentioning that name before, but he’d left off the part about it being an MC.
“That’s who I work for.” Hunter rolled his shoulders, some of the tension leaving his frame. “We’ve been tracking the antiquities operation for months. Your father’s organization is connected to an international trafficking ring that’s been hitting museums up and down the coast.”
Eden absorbed this, pieces clicking into place. “The mechanics business is your cover.”
“Among other things.” His lips quirked. “Though I actually am good with bikes.”
“And good with your hands?” The words slipped out before she could stop them, heavy with implications that had been building since that first meeting.
His eyes darkened. “Want me to prove it?”
The air between them charged with electricity. Eden took another step back, trying to clear her head. The safe house suddenly felt too small, too intimate. “We can’t. This is already complicated enough without...”
“Without what?” He followed her retreat, eating up the distance between them with predatory grace. “Without admitting there’s something here that has nothing to do with our missions?”
