Huntsman house of misfit.., p.1
Huntsman (House of Misfits #3), page 1
Huntsman
Cambria Hebert
Contents
Note to the Readers
Once upon a time…
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Epilogue
AUTHORS NOTE
ABOUT CAMBRIA HEBERT
BOOKS BY CAMBRIA HEBERT
HUNTSMAN Copyright © 2021 CAMBRIA HEBERT
* * *
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions
thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
* * *
Published by Cambria Hebert
http://www.cambriahebert.com
* * *
Interior design and typesetting by Classic Interior Design
Cover design by Cover Me Darling
Edited by Cassie McCown
Copyright 2021 by Cambria Hebert
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Note to the Reader:
* * *
Just a brief note to let you fabulous readers know that I recommend reading Ivory White (House of Misfits #1) before Huntsman. No, you don’t have to, but it will help you understand the dynamics between Earth and his family (especially Neo) much better.
You do not have to read Prince (House of Misfits #2) for this book, but Earth, as well as all the other misfits, are in it! Thank you so much for reading my work. I appreciate you.
Once upon a time…
A beauty locked away in a tower lit up her own darkness while a villain clutching a bloodstained blade embraced his.
* * *
Against all odds, they fell in love.
Prologue
Villain
* * *
Somewhere in Asia…
“The past is calling.”
The unmistakable light of amusement in my assistant’s eyes faded and snuffed out completely when I lifted my eyes, shifting deeper into the high-backed wingchair behind my desk.
“Excuse me?”
Clearing his throat, gaze lowered to the expensive handwoven rug stretching nearly wall to wall over the glossy and meticulously laid dark wood floors, he spoke loud enough to project his next sentence to me even though his chin remained downcast.
“You have a call. From America.”
Interest piqued with suspicion, I replied, “We haven’t dealt with anyone that far west in a long time.”
He made a sound of agreement.
“If you know that, then why would you put the call through?”
His tremble was visible, as was the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “I didn’t at first.”
“I shouldn’t have to ask for an explanation.”
Dark eyes snapped up. He knew I was losing patience. Clenching his hands in front of him, he nearly tripped over his words, making haste. “It’s been the same call for a few weeks now. I keep hanging up, but she keeps calling back.”
She?
“I was curious how she could even get this number, let alone be persistent enough to call every single day.”
“Americans think the world revolves around them.”
“She says she knows someone, someone you’ve been trying to find.”
I tilted my head. “Who?”
“She refused to tell me, insisting she would only speak to you.”
“Get out.”
The second I spoke, he jolted and spun, the black jacket momentarily puffing out around his slim hips. He scurried like a rat in search of food, making my upper lip curl.
As if he felt the snarl, his hip caught the edge of a decorative table on his way past. The crystal vase atop it fell over with a sharp snap. The rush of water splashed over the edge, carrying with it a long-stemmed black rose. The water and the once pristine flower plopped onto the floor.
With a low gasp and a sheer look of horror, the man dropped to his knees, which only amplified the mess.
“I a-a-apologize,” he stammered, trying to scoop up the water with his hands.
My five-inch heels were soundless as I walked over the carpet, my presence only realized when the pointed toes stepped up to the edge of the mess he was trying to clean.
All attempts to fix what he’d done ceased, and the shoulders beneath his suit jacket slumped. The way his head hung on his neck was pathetic, as though he’d already accepted his fate.
Simpering. Spineless. Good help was hard to find these days.
The only surefire way to get the kind I need is to create it. And sometimes, not even that is foolproof.
That thought made the anger burning inside me hotter.
“Chul,” I beckoned without even lifting my voice.
The white-paneled door opened immediately, a large man filling its frame. With a single, stoic glance, he took in the employee on the floor and the mess surrounding him.
“I don’t want to see him again.”
His nod was curt, and when his hand cupped under the arm of the now-former employee, the acceptance of his fate crumpled and he started to whimper, dragging it out into a God-awful wail.
“P-pleeease,” he keened. “I’ll do anything.”
Chul kept going, the man’s feet dragging over the floor as he went.
“You.”
Chul stopped, and the sniveling man looked up, hope blossoming over his red face.
“That joke wasn’t funny,” I informed him.
Hope shriveled, and realization dawned once more. “I’m sorry! Give me another chance!” he wailed as Chul hauled him away, shutting the door quietly behind him and cutting off his pathetic and useless pleas.
Silence descended once more, and I bent to pick up the rose. A thorn pricked deep into my flesh, stinging me with pain and drawing forth a swell of blood.
I stared down at the wounded finger and the sharp thorn, which was now smeared with red. Chuckling, I carefully placed the onyx-topped stem on the table and sucked my finger between my painted lips.
Metallic, sharp, and slightly pungent, my own blood burst over my tongue. Remembering the call, I went back to my desk to lift the gleaming black phone and press a button.
“Yes?” My voice was cool.
“I know where he is.” I did not recognize her voice. But her tone? That was something else entirely.
Distinguished. Powerful. Petty.
And most importantly… filled with revenge.
“Who?” I faked disinterest.
“The man you’ve spent the last ten years searching for.”
The hand not holding the phone curled around the edge of my desk, squeezing until every small joint in every finger ached and burned. The back of my neck tingled, making my eyes narrow into slits.
It couldn’t be.
“Who is this?” I demanded, power radiating from my core.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall,” the woman murmured, “who’s the most powerful of them all?”
Was she challenging me?
“Listen to me.” I began, thinking this woman had no idea who she was playing with.
“New York City. The Grimms. I don’t know what you call him, but here, he goes by Earth.”
I jolted upright, my already perfect posture going so rigid it was painful. I opened my lips to demand more, but the buzzing of the line against my ear cut me off.
She’d hung up.
Replacing the receiver, I stood at the side of my wooden desk, staring blindly at the deep-gray walls covered in ornate wainscoting. I also didn’t see the authentic Leonardo Da Vinci painting that hung between the moldings, the candle sconces, or the tall, leafy green tree that was potted in the corner.
All the high-priced elegance of this office faded away until there was nothing in front of me but an empty street cloaked by the obscurity of night and brought alive only by thick silver-gray fog that drifted above the
The sound of a gunshot boomed through the memory, ripping it away and knocking me back onto my butt. One high heel flipped off, landing on its side nearby, while the other dangled half on, half off my foot as I sprawled on the floor, hand clutching my chest.
Pain so vivid and real tore through me. I began tearing at the white silk jacket, ripping its oversized fit away from my body to find a blooming patch of red.
“I’ve been shot!” I wailed.
Across the room, the door shuddered open. Behind me, the paneled black bookshelves slid soundlessly in, and a man rushed out.
Surrounded at once, chaos thundered throughout the room as my men filled the space. The one who’d come from the bookcase dropped to his knees beside me.
“I’ve been shot!” I yelled. “Don’t just stand there! Find the gunman!”
The men all shuffled uncomfortably, and the one at my side grabbed my hands to hold them. “There was no gunshot. The estate is secure.”
Ripping my hands free, I moved to show him the blood.
There was none.
A broken cry ripped from my throat.
“Out!” the man at my side roared. “Do a perimeter search!”
“What happened?” he demanded when everyone was gone.
No blood. No pain. No dark street. Just me on the floor in my office.
Just me being weak.
Shoving his hands off, I stood. Without the five-inch heels, my height was insignificant, something I hated. Knowing this, he did not stand. Instead, he placed my shoes in front of me, offering one wide shoulder to use as I slid them on.
Only then did he stand, his height still more than mine but a much more tolerable difference.
“What happened?” he repeated.
The past called. My former assistant had no idea how right that statement was.
Except it wasn’t because it was still yesterday in America, but it was because that brief unknown caller had managed to shove me ten years into the past without even giving her name.
But she had given a name.
Could it really be?
My eyes lifted. “Call Daeshim. I want him here now.”
1
Earth
* * *
The faint ringing of a phone tucked away in my office stilled my movements and tilted my head.
It was the third time I’d heard that thing ringing today. Even though I’d retired from the business of killing, I still kept the phone.
I still heard it ringing from time to time.
And sometimes, I still had the urge to answer.
The muffled chimes silenced, and I grunted, going back to pushing the broom over the bar floor. It wasn’t even that late in the day. “Someone must really want someone dead,” I muttered as I finished sweeping up the discarded peanut shells from the night before.
From his bed against the wall, Snort lifted his head, the tags on his collar jangling with the movement.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.
Living up to his name, he gave a loud snort and then rolled onto his side.
I didn’t ever advertise my career as an assassin. Doing so would make me shitty at what I did. In fact, just getting my phone number took a lot of work, especially because I changed it often.
Finished with the cleanup, I went to the back to grab a few cases of beer to stock behind the bar for when we opened later tonight.
The Rotten Apple didn’t open until late afternoon and closed when the last person left. Or when I was fed up with them all and kicked them out.
The sound of clinking bottles was interrupted by more ringing. Stiffening inside the cooler, I drew up, equal parts in awe and annoyed at this asshole’s persistence.
But then I realized the ringing was much louder than before, and it wasn’t the phone hidden away in my office but my actual cell phone lying on the bar. I sneered at the irritating thing but still leaned over to see who it was.
It could be Fletcher. He might need something. And before you go joining in with the rest of my family saying I had a soft spot for my baby brother, you’re wrong. I just worried about him is all.
It wasn’t Fletch, but I did a double take when I saw who it was.
Neo.
My eyes widened in shock. I mean, sure, he was family, but the rift between us meant barely ever seeing that name flash on my screen.
“What’s wrong?” I spat into the line the second I accepted the call. Even if I was concerned, I wouldn’t show it.
The brief pause on the other side was filled with a lot of background noise that did not sound like the city I was familiar with.
“Why would something be wrong?” Neo retorted.
“Because you’re calling.”
“I need a favor.”
I barked a laugh, the sound harsh. I didn’t have to say told you so for him to know that was exactly what I was thinking. Once upon a time we were so close words weren’t always needed.
“Never mind,” Neo muttered, and I could practically see him pulling the phone away from his ear.
“Neo! Think about Virginia.” Ivory’s voice echoed through the line.
My brows drew together, my fingers tightening on the phone. “Virginia?” I asked. “Is something wrong with your sister?”
The sound of some kind of announcement echoed loudly in the background. Where is he?
“Neo,” I demanded.
His voice came back on the line, loud and clear. “I went to California with Ivory for a business thing. We were supposed to be back by now.”
All of the background noise suddenly made sense. He was at an airport.
“Where are you?”
“Texas. There’s some freak storm, and all the flights have been grounded. We’d hoped to be on a plane by now, but it’s not looking good. We might not get out of here until tomorrow.”
“What’s that have to do with Virginia?” I asked.
“She has an appointment later this afternoon with a specialist. We can’t really cancel because these appointments are set up months in advance.”
“Okay,” I said, not really understanding his point.
“I want you to take her in my place.”
Jolting upright, I pulled the phone away from my ear to stare at it. “What?” My voice was incredulous. “I thought you forbade me to go near her.”
“I did. But I’m not as pissed at you as before. And…”
“And what?” I pressed when he faltered.
“I know you won’t let anyone mess with her.”
I felt my upper lip curl. “I guess it’s convenient to have someone like me around sometimes.”
Ivory gasped. “That’s not true!”
Did she have her ear pressed to the phone? Ever since I’d heard the name Ivory White, my life began to unravel. She was nosy, bossy, and impossible to kill. And now? She was family.
Her voice was muffled like she’d pulled back to scold Neo. “Tell him that’s not true!”
She was also far more forgiving than my brother.
Neo grunted. “After the meeting with the doctor, she’s seeing a new physical therapist. You gotta watch them. Some of them get handsy.”
My back teeth snapped together. I couldn’t even muster up surprise because I knew damn well that there were more people in the world who took advantage of others than not. But the idea of anyone doing that to Virginia made fire singe my belly.
