Hunt

By Bailey Bradford

Steven was on a mission he knew could cost him his life, but instead he might find himself truly living for the first time.

Steven has spent his life protecting his brother Adal and serving their sadistic father, Bashuan, as a means of bargaining for both of their lives. He's done things no man should have to do, things no shifter should have to do. Throughout it all, Bashuan has hated him and Adal for being halfbreeds, part puma and part leopard. Doesn't matter that Bashuan is responsible for their mixed blood. There's no logic to his hatred.

But Adal has found a mate, and Steven is going to make sure his brother gets the opportunity to live out a normal shifter life with the man. He's going to try his best, anyway. Steven is aware that Bashuan may win, that evil could triumph the new-found good in Steven's life. He's seen it happen—good guys don't always survive.

What Steven forgets is that he's not nor has he ever been the good guy, and the Fates have a reward for him that will break the rules of all known shifter matings. They're sending him not one, but two mates, and both men will fight with him and for him—and nothing will keep them from Steven.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Jul 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781784300661

Bailey Bradford

A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn't happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey's brain demanding to be let out. Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey's office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey's presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.

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A Totally Bound Publication

Hunt

ISBN # 978-1-78430-066-1

©Copyright Bailey Bradford 2014

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright June 2014

Edited by Rebecca Douglas

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2014 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 3.

Spotless

HUNT

Bailey Bradford

Book two in the Spotless series

Steven was on a mission he knew could cost him his life, but instead he might find himself truly living for the first time.

Steven has spent his life protecting his brother Adal and serving their sadistic father, Bashuan, as a means of bargaining for both of their lives. He’s done things no man should have to do, things no shifter should have to do. Throughout it all, Bashuan has hated him and Adal for being halfbreeds, part puma and part leopard. Doesn’t matter that Bashuan is responsible for their mixed blood. There’s no logic to his hatred.

But Adal has found a mate, and Steven is going to make sure his brother gets the opportunity to live out a normal shifter life with the man. He’s going to try his best, anyway. Steven is aware that Bashuan may win, that evil could triumph the new-found good in Steven’s life. He’s seen it happen—good guys don’t always survive.

What Steven forgets is that he’s not nor has he ever been the good guy, and the Fates have a reward for him that will break the rules of all known shifter matings. They’re sending him not one, but two mates, and both men will fight with him and for him—and nothing will keep them from Steven.

Dedication

Impossible odds aren’t always impossible; they can bring out a strength in you that you never knew you had. It’s there. Have faith.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:

Brillo Pad: Armaly Brands

Chapter One

From behind the thick copse of trees, Steven watched the veterinary van drive off toward Denver. He’d gotten out and shifted, ran—but only far enough so that Adal and the others would believe him to be gone. Gone, and stronger than he really was.

Stepping out of that van and leaving his brother had taken every bit of Steven’s strength and determination. He knew he’d never see Adal again and he hoped—and prayed to every deity in existence—that he’d left his brother in safe hands. If not, there wasn’t a harsh enough hell for Steven to be cast into, not in this life or whatever came after.

The tail lights were bright small pins of glowing red that held him mesmerized, his mind blanking as he couldn’t quite deal with what he’d gone and done. Adal had always been his. Without him, Steven feared he had no soul. He’d killed to keep his brother safe and hadn’t batted an eyelash at doing so. Bashuan had known of Steven’s devotion to Adal, and he’d never hesitated to use it against him.

And now Steven had given up Adal, the best part of him. He pulled back from that dangerous admission as the van turned, those tail lights blinking brighter then vanishing out of sight.

Steven took a moment to gather himself. He cradled his head in his hands and tried to formulate a plan. Find Bashuan, kill him—that seemed to be the best he could come up with. The problem was, he didn’t believe he could do it. There was no moral issue, though. Bashuan was strong, smart and well-guarded. Steven was just Steven. He had no weapons, no other people to back him up. In his and Adal’s lepe, or pack, they’d been outcasts. Hated for being different, halfbreeds. It didn’t matter that the lepe leader was their father—all that mattered was that they were not pure Amur leopard shifters.

There’d been a time when Steven had dreamed, had hoped for a future unlike the one he now lived. Back when he’d been a young child, he’d not yet realized how dark his fate was. He’d dreamed of being something, someone, exceptional. When he’d been handed over a little brother to care for, that dream had expanded. Though there were barely five years between him and Adal, Steven’s world had changed the day Adal had been shoved into his arms.

Steven had wanted to be better for that small babe with the solemn eyes.

Stop it, Steven scolded himself silently. Thinking about the past was useless unless it provided him with an infallible plan to kill Bashuan. Steven had never been given to theatrics or retrospection. He wasn’t about to start now. If he couldn’t kill Bashuan—and he didn’t believe he could—that was much of the battle lost already.

That Adal had a mate had come as a shock, but Steven had to trust it was true. All the years he’d protected Adal, all the hopes he’d had for him, would be possible if that lumbering idiot Steven had knocked out proved to be Adal’s mate. If Steven happened to survive his as of yet unplanned attack on Bashuan, there would be some very awkward dynamics between him, Adal and Dorso. Steven sure as hell wouldn’t easily forgive someone for clocking him like he had done to Dorso, and that was just one of the offensive actions he’d taken on this last assignment from Bashuan.

But what was done was done, and he wouldn’t be seeing Dorso or Adal again. Bashuan would likely find him before Steven ever got near the lepe. He’d be looking for them when they failed to check in.

Weak, hated, freaks. Bashuan made sure they heard it often enough. There was no need for them to live if they were not serving Bashuan. In the past, Steven had believed himself to be anything but weak. He’d thought he might have a strength of body unknown of anyone in his lepe.

A fantasy was what that had been, because Bashuan was right. He was weak—Steven had felt it the past days, like a slow drain of air out of a tire. Whatever the cause of it, if it was from the pills Bashuan had them taking, it was still a fact. Steven tired faster than before, his muscles cramped and ached. He didn’t know if he’d get better now, or if the damage was done.

Either way, as he and Adal had been on the pills for a long time, he didn’t think temporary side-effects would heal up quickly. They’d taken a while to cause the changes. To believe he’d be stronger and healthier in a day or two was foolishness, and it wouldn’t keep him alive.

If he were going to die, he wasn’t going to do so easily. Steven had never done anything the easy way in his life. He stood up and dusted off his knees before turning to the north. A sniff of the air brought a chill to his skin. He was naked, unarmed, without any resources at all. But Adal was safe, hopefully, and with people who might possibly be able to help him if the pills had done permanent damage.

Not fatal damage, Steven wouldn’t believe that. Not for Adal. As to his own life, as long as he found a way to keep his brother safe, that was what mattered.

Steven wasn’t like Adal, who was pure and kind, a gentle soul. He wouldn’t change who and what he was. Adal was the good one, and Steven…wasn’t.

Steven tipped his nose up to catch a better whiff as the wind blew, carrying with it cooler temperatures. The mountains would be dangerously cold at night, but in his leopard form he would be okay. That should also take care of his lack of food. He’d never failed in a hunt.

But he’d never hunted Bashuan before, either.

Steven glanced back in the direction the van had gone, despite his best effort not to. Then he closed his eyes and let the shift come over him. Seconds later, his sleek black form, rippling with power and deadly intent, slipped into the dense forest to begin the most important journey of his life.

Chapter Two

The darkness seemed more so than Steven could every remember it being. The Colorado sky was normally lit up with innumerable stars out in the stretches of wilderness. Tonight they were snuffed out under a thick layer of clouds. Even without the moonlight to help guide him, Steven could always count on his shifter vision to give him superior sight.

Not so as he traipsed through the night. He supposed he could still see better than any man, and possibly several of the critters that scrambled away. He hadn’t yet found one he wanted to give chase to. Food wasn’t the primary concern Steven had right now.

Adal was constantly in his thoughts. Steven kept telling himself he’d done the right thing, but he’d made a rash decision with little thought to the consequences. How would he reach Adal? How would he know his brother was alive and happy?

On the flip side of that worry, Steven figured that chances were good he’d be dead in a week at best. At least no one would know where Adal was to tell him. There was nothing anyone could do to Steven to make him narc on who his brother was with or what had happened back in that van. He could stand up to any torture—gods knew that was one way Bashuan had actually helped him in his sick, twisted way.

Steven was immune to pain. It wasn’t that he didn’t hurt, because he fucking did. No one could have some of the things done to him he’d experienced and claim it didn’t hurt.

But Steven had learned to control his reactions. He’d all but forgotten how to scream, and begging was so faint a memory it seemed more fiction than fact. Besides, he had left the one thing, the one person, he’d be willing to talk for behind.

The earth was cold beneath his paws, despite the layering of leaves and other plant life. Occasionally he curled his claws, digging into dirt and releasing the pungent scent of it into the air. Leopards weren’t native to the mountains he was in, at least not his kind of leopard.

Then again, he doubted there were any ‘natives’ of his and Adal’s kind anywhere. He couldn’t imagine that other species of shifters would not strongly discourage inter-species mating.

Steven had never bothered to have sex because of it. He wouldn’t risk passing on his cursed nature to another. Bashuan had also made sure he’d never had the chance, beating him mercilessly if he showed any hint of desire for another. Steven had learned rigid control of his desires. So rigid, in fact, he thought they had been destroyed, strangled under years of abuse and pain.

He wondered if Adal and that big idiot would have sex. Steven stumbled over his own paws at that and hissed. The very idea of his little brother having sex was disturbing. Still, he knew it was part of being a healthy, functional—no, normal—animal, be it man or cat. To his mortification and utter shock, Steven felt himself warming with something very close to embarrassment.

What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t innocent by any means, despite his lack of sexual experiences. It was just the oddness of thinking of Adal and— He just wouldn’t think about it then. Seemed a simple enough solution to him.

But a niggling little idiotic part of his brain was curious.

Steven decided dinner would take care of that. He could smell many enticing possibilities. Another look up and still no stars or moonlight coming through the canopy above. Combined with his black coat, Steven had exceptional camouflage in the night.

Unlike his brother, Steven did actually have spots—five of them, three on one flank, two on the other. They blended in to his fur so that they were hardly noticeable, except in good lighting. All in all, he was made for the night, and he stalked through the forest, ears low, flicking occasionally if a sound caught his attention.

He wondered how long it would be before he was being hunted.

Steven shook off the thought like he’d shake off water, twitching from head to the tip of his tail. It occurred to him that he didn’t have much time left, and brooding was a waste of what time he did have. A yearning arose in him, one so off from anything he’d ever thought to feel.

He wanted to lope, to pounce, to flop and roll in the play yard nature had provided him. Just once, he thought. Always, always he’d been watched, controlled and stoic.

Stoic. He hated that word. Bashuan was stoic when he was torturing Steven.

Steven looked around. Who was there to see him now, if he were to…to loosen up a bit? He’d never been allowed to run and play as a child, to just have his lead. What would it hurt, for once, to know the taste of freedom before he quite possibly lost everything?

Taking that first leap was harder than almost anything else he’d ever done. Steven actually had to close his eyes and propel himself forward. He felt silly, ridiculous, crazy as he sailed through the air, his powerful back legs sending him several yards before he landed again.

But as soon as his paws touched the ground, Steven pushed off again, already addicted to the feeling of flying. He almost broke his neck when a mewl slipped from his muzzle. He’d never made such a…a…he didn’t even know what to call it.

Steven didn’t watch his landing and came down on a root that sent him tail over tits. He slammed into a tree stump hard enough to see some of the stars that wouldn’t come out from the clouds. Apparently they were leaking out of his head instead.

Steven panted and sprang back to his feet, checking to make sure no one had seen him. Who would have, he scoffed at himself. He was alone except for the other animals. Of course there were probably a dozen squirrels snickering at him somewhere. Those little bastards never failed to throw things at him when he was in this form.

But he didn’t see any of them, either. No one was watching him. Steven comprehended, for the first time ever, that he was actually free, even if just for the night.

Tomorrow he would go back to being the hunter he was. The allure of the wind in his fur, the earth beneath his feet and a run that wasn’t limited or with a violent goal was irresistible. He’d make sure he kept going in the right direction so he didn’t lose any time. He wouldn’t risk Adal. But for tonight, perhaps, he would just be a leopard instead of a man so screwed up that not even death could offer redemption.

Chapter Three

Strange dreams caused disruptions to what little sleep Steven got. He’d ran and played and rolled around, chased the moon beams on the few occasions they broke through the cloud cover, and he’d found himself a nice, fat rabbit to fill his belly. After cleaning his fur, Steven settled down in the cradling branches of a tall tree. Twice he’d been roused from his sleep by the dreams he couldn’t quite remember. It’d been luck and sharp claws that had kept him from a twenty-foot plunge. Contrary to popular theory, not all cats landed on their feet every time. At least Steven knew for a fact that he didn’t. He hadn’t wanted to emphasize that failure again by possibly breaking his neck.

He wished he could remember the dreams, but all he got was flashes of himself, and he seemed much like he’d been earlier—happy, or as close to it as he’d been without his brother at his side. The end result was that Steven was tired and melancholy and more than a little heart sick, though he stomped all of those things down as he started out on his trek.

Bashuan sometimes moved the lepe for reasons Steven had never been privy to. But he knew where those places were. Montana, Minnesota, Michigan, Wyoming and South Dakota—Bashuan had been on a roll with the Ms until he’d discovered spots he liked in Wyoming and South Dakota.

Normally Bashuan would be waiting for him and Adal to return to the location they’d left from. It’d been Montana, but Steven had to wonder. Would Bashuan see him—them—as a threat now? Or would he assume they were dead, either by his hand with those goddamned pills, or by the teeth and claws of the other leopards? Would he move the lepe?

Steven tried to calculate Bashuan’s schedule for uprooting the lepe, but there was no rhyme or reason to it that he could fathom. Really a smart move, he thought. There wasn’t a pattern in the moves to be traced.

It sucked for him, though. Steven snorted and trotted along in the sunlight-dappled forest. Silence accompanied him as other animals hid from him. It would have been nice to hear some birds singing, but Steven had grown used to being denied that in his leopard form. Nothing but the occasional squirrel dared to fuck with him when he was shifted into his cat. Steven didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed at the snarky little beasts.

He supposed he’d have to get to Montana first, unless… Steven paused and raised his head, contemplating his options. He could approach the nearest town and find some clothes, shift…and