Page 37 of Hunted in the Shadows
I fought a grin as he was uncharacteristically incensed by the second cat that leaped onto the table. It deftly padded gray paws between mugs of coffee, squinting golden eyes in my direction.I eagerly stretched a hand, but the cat was more interested in sniffing Cliff’s sleeve.
“Don’t laugh,” Cliff grumbled.
I bit my lip. “It’s hard not to.”
“Try.”
“But I thought you loved animals,” I said as he scooped the cat up like a sack of flour.
“Yeah, but I also love breathing without sneezing every two seconds. I’m allergic to—” Two rapid sneezes cut through the sentence. He sighed, gesturing with the cat. “Tothese.”
He set it on the floor, eliciting a chirp of outrage from the cat. It glared over its shoulder at him, then promptly bathed where it had been handled.
My bottled laughter finally spilled out of me. “I can’t believe I used to be scared of you.”
“I can fix that.” Cliff arched an eyebrow, fixing me with a look that would’ve sent a chill down my spine a few months ago.
“I’m afraid it’s too late. You’re adorable.”
Cliff opened his mouth to retort—only to bury another sneeze into his elbow.
I scanned the room, grateful I didn’t share his affliction. The animals were an unexpected delight in this shocking turn in our morning. Even with Gwen and Hannah in the kitchen, the cozy dining room was alive with activity—paws scuffling, water bowls clinking, and the occasional bark from outside. A sleek black cat sat on the windowsill, basking in the early morning sunshine. A plump white and gray cat was curled up on an armchair, watching us with half-lidded eyes from across the room. Two dogs, a golden retriever and a small terrier, lay on the carpeted floor with tails thumping as they tracked the food in the next room.
My guard threatened to lower. This place held a sense ofhome, like the building itself wanted to wrap me in a hug and welcome me in.
“Gwen! You got a spray bottle or something?” Cliff called. The orange and black cat beneath the table wove against his ankles again, more demanding. “Your cat thinks I’m a scratching post.”
Dodging the eager dogs, Gwen returned. She set a carton of creamer on the table and scooped the cat into her arms.
“Good girl, Artemis,” she crooned, pressing a kiss between its ears. “Helping mommy push out the unwelcome visitors quicker.”
The sunlight streaming through the window skimmed Gwen’s face as she paced the room, highlighting her skin’s golden undertones. Her eyes were gently angled at the corners and framed by thick, natural lashes. Her raven hair, pulled back in a simple style, would have hit just below her shoulders in soft waves. Though her smile seemed like a rare gift, it lit up her features with a warmth that was both girlish and feline. When she wasn’t calling me a monster, she was undeniably beautiful.
My heart ached a little as I glanced at Cliff. Gwen was effortlessly agile in ways that complemented his warrior’s physique. Her curves were slight where he was sharp and defined.
They would have been striking together, side by side.
Jon muttered something in Spanish I couldn’t quite make out—though I wasfairlycertain it was a profanity—his eyes narrowed in Gwen's direction. “We’re hardly here by choice,” he said louder. “Once the car’s back in working order, we’ll be gone.”
Gwen eyed him with peculiar caution and set the cat on the carpet. She took a seat at the table across from Cliff. “You two really haven’t changed, have you?” Her voice dropped lower, almost pitying. “Still the same cycle of self-destruction and violence, isn’t it?”
The bitter tension rifting between them made my stomach twist—though I wouldn’t let them see it. I couldn’t. Hunters lived brutal lives; making enemies was inevitable. I just hadn’t anticipated havingbreakfastwith one of them.
Hannah returned with a basket of muffins, seeming to force herself down into a seat beside Gwen. For a moment, Hannah seemed unsure of what to do with her arms—folding them, then resting them on her lap—until Gwen stopped her fidgeting by taking her hand and gently squeezing it on the table.
I watched how Hannah’s eyes nervously settled on Jon and Cliff seated directly across from her. “I know they’re intimidating, but they’re not so bad once you get to know them,” I said.
Jon cleared his throat delicately and whispered under his breath. “I don’t think it’s us, Sylv.”
I would have protested, but then I realized her eyes were actually locked onme. And it was no wonder. Other humans who’d seen me were hardly shaken by the sight of a fairy after coming face to face with a bloodthirsty monster.
Hannah took a deep breath. “So, you’re still real. You can all see her, right?” Her laugh was taut. “Fairies arereal.”
“More than that, sweetheart.” Cliff turned pointedly to Gwen. “You seriously didn’t tell her?”
“There was no need. I’m retired,” she answered sharply, releasing Hannah’s hand so she could fold her arms over her chest.
Cliff’s mouth dropped open. “Retired? What—for how long?”
