Read Hunter's Prey: Bloodhounds, Book 2 for Free Online Page B

carnal acts that might have heated his blood if he believed he’d have the sense to enjoy them or the memory of experiencing them.
    A stumbling apology would only prolong the agony. So he turned blindly, unconcerned that the path he’d chosen led deeper into the house. The bloodhound manor was a labyrinth of additions and passages. Eventually he’d find his way to an exit.
    He’d endure this new moon as he had to—and be better prepared for the next.

Chapter Four
    Sylvie’s message had been cryptic and terse, quickly delivered words that had raised more questions than they answered.
    If you don’t wish to owe me money by the end of the evening, ride your retired little ass over here, sweetheart.
    Ophelia urged her mount faster, riding through the twilight toward Sylvie’s house on the edge of town. Red and amber lights came into view first, glittering in the distance, and slowly the stark outline of the rambling house began to take shape against the darkening sky.
    She slid off her horse as the groom ran forward to snatch up the reins. “Where is she, Fremont?”
    “In her suite, Miss Ophelia.” The usually steel-nerved young man was pale enough that his freckles stood out in the light from the flickering, old-fashioned lantern. “She asked if you might take the outside stairs to her balcony to avoid alarming the other patrons. But hurry, ma’am. It ain’t a pretty sight, to be sure.”
    “What happened ?” she demanded as she stripped off her riding gloves. The question was mostly rhetorical, since Sylvie was a smart enough businesswoman to keep any real problems under wraps, but Ophelia’s fear was getting the best of her.
    When she reached the balcony, she rapped on the French doors leading inside. They opened a heartbeat later, revealing a disheveled Sylvie dressed in a rumpled but expensive gown. “You lied to me, love. I’m very cross with you.”
    “I did not lie, but I admit I suspect he did.” She stepped in and pushed up each ruffled sleeve of her friend’s robe in turn, looking for bruises. “Did he hurt you?”
    Sylvie jerked her hands away with an impatient noise. “Of course not. I know my work. But he’s locked himself in my bathroom, and I paid a fortune for one of those fancy New York inventors to fix it up with plumbing and electricity. If he rips the pipes off the wall, I’ll be furious.”
    The flippant words masked real anxiety, though not for herself. Ophelia squared her shoulders. “I can handle him, I know I can. If you can do me a favor.”
    “If your next words are lend me your bedroom , I do hope you’re going to follow them up with, and I’ll buy you new bedding .” Sylvie arched both eyebrows. “Italian silk.”
    If nothing else, they could bill it to the Guild. “Done. Now get out so I can save your washroom.”
    Sylvie raised a hand to cup Ophelia’s cheek. “Be careful. I won’t say I’ve never seen bloodhounds acting this wild. I have, and I’ve handled them. But I’ve never seen one worse off. Not one who could come back.”
    The words would chill her if she let them, so she shook her head. “He’s still there. Wilder and Archer got him through the full moon, and I’ll get him through the new.”
    “If you’re sure.” Sylvie turned to her desk and swept up a small stack of leather-bound books. “I’ve cleared the other two suites in this wing. I’ll be in the one closest to the main stairs. Do you know how to operate the speaker? It connects directly to the kitchen, and they’ll send up anything you need.”
    It hadn’t been so terribly long since she’d been in a place like this. “I’ll manage.”
    When Sylvie had gone, Ophelia approached the full-length mirror beside the bed. Her hair was a mess, so she pulled the pins and shook it free. For a moment, she considered undressing and slipping into one of the extra gowns from the wardrobe. But they bore Sylvie’s scent, not her own, and there was no way to know how Hunter would react.
    She