Free Hunter's Fall by Shiloh Walker

horrible, terrible accident in which four young women lost their lives.
    She needed to let the girl go, and she needed to let go of her grief. She rested a hand on the headstone. “I’m sorry, Mei-Lin, so sorry. You should have grown up, found a man who looks like Daniel Day-Lewis and lived happily ever after. I’ll miss you, darling. But I need to let you go.”
    Tears rolled down her cheeks and she wiped them away.
    “Good-bye.” She turned on her heel and strode away from the stone, refusing to look back, no matter how much she wanted to.
    There was one more good-bye she needed to make.
    One more dream to kill.
    Once she was out of the cemetery and away from any prying electronic eyes, she lifted her face to the sky and called her magic.
    It carried her away, sweeping her across miles and miles, over land and ocean. It was nearing dawn when her feet alit on the ground.
    She breathed the air in, filled her lungs with the scent of the forest—trees, moss, the morning dew. She stared around her, amazed to realize she barely recognized the place. Centuries had passed since she’d seen this bit of land. No sign of Oneoak remained and logically, she hadn’t expected to see anything of the long-gone village.
    Even the trees were different. The land. Peering up at the sky, she searched for something that she recognized. But there was nothing.
    Swallowing the knot in her throat, she started to walk.
    Although the land no longer seemed familiar, she knew where he rested. She could have found his grave had she been forced to stumble blindfolded through a snowstorm.
    There was nothing to identify it. No marker, no stone. But she knew. Deep inside, she knew. Settling on the ground next to his grave, she rested a hand on the earth and said, “Hello, lover.”
     
     
    H ELLO, lover . . .
    It was a bad time to get distracted. Dominic barely managed to evade the werewolf’s clawed hand, aimed straight for his throat.
    The woman’s voice echoed in his ears and he scowled, blocking it out of his head.
    Not now. Can’t lose my mind right now .
    No way could he afford to get distracted right then. He wasn’t fighting alone—Sheila, one of his fellow Hunters and his best friend’s wife, was with him. If she got hurt because he couldn’t pull his head out of his ass, he’d never forgive himself for as long as he lived. And that wouldn’t be very long.
    Rafe would kill him.
    Gripping his knife, he waited until the werewolf came at him and ducked under the strike, using the wolf’s speed to his advantage and driving them both to the ground. He plunged his knife deep, and the stink of burning meat filled the air.
    The heart—had to destroy the heart. He twisted the knife, making sure the wolf was completely and utterly dead before he shoved himself upright. The dead body was changing back to his natural state, revealing a middle-aged, slightly plump man, his body nude.
    Dominic lunged for the other wolf just as the creature went to belt Sheila. Judging by the bruises on her face, she’d already taken quite a beating. Oh, yeah. Rafe was going to have his hide. He wrapped his arm around the wolf’s neck and pressed—unlike vampires, werewolves did still need to breathe, and Dom used his strength to choke the wolf into submission.
    “Don’t kill him,” Sheila warned. “Rafe wants to know where the rest are holed up.”
    Dom grunted as the were tried to smash his head backward. “Maybe he could save us the trouble and just tell me now.”
    “Go fuck . . . your . . .” The were gasped, struggling to breathe. “. . . self.”
    Dom grinned. “Be nice. There’s a lady present. Tell us where the rest of them are and you can die nice and fast.”
    “Fuck off.” He tried to drive an elbow backward.
    “Fine. Have it your way—the Master will get it out of you if he has to bleed you one drop at a time.” He squeezed tighter, tighter, until he felt the wolf go slack. He held another minute or so and then he let the