Harvest Hunting Read Online Free PDF

than he was doing at the bar, and his skin was covered with faded scars.
    I took the picture and gazed at the young woman staring back at me. She looked about twenty-five—misleading, of course, given the long-lived nature of the Supe Community. She had Luke’s eyes. Feral and yet . . . a yearning hidden behind the wariness. Long, wheat-colored hair drifted down her shoulders, honey-kissed and vibrant. She was beautiful, luminous, and dangerous.
    “Her name is Amber. Amber Johansen. We haven’t seen each other in years.”
    He left something unspoken. Something that told me Luke had a suspicion about what had happened.
    “What do you think is going on?” I caught his attention, turning on my glamour, willing him to open up.
    He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, locking his gaze on mine without flinching. “I think that rat’s ass she calls a husband came after her. She told me over the phone that she was being followed down there, and my guess is he’s trying to convince her to come back to the Pack. His ego—the ego of the Pack—neither takes it well when their women leave. Rice is an abusive motherfucker, and I’m afraid he’ll track her down and kill her.”
    And then, slowly, he crumbled. “Amber’s the only family I’ve got.”
    “We’ll find her,” I said, sliding my hand over his. “We’ll do everything we can to find her.” But inside, I was praying we weren’t too late.

CHAPTER 2

    At that moment, the front door opened, and Menolly wandered in, her arm around Nerissa, who was obviously three sheets to the wind. They were both laughing, and my sister’s fangs were down, but one look at Nerissa reassured me that Menolly hadn’t slipped. Menolly gently deposited her in one of the armchairs and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then turned around.
    “What the hell are you doing here? Is everything okay at the bar?” She stared at Luke in that uncanny, unblinking way she had. I could hardly wait until she actually took a long look at me. I could just imagine what was going to come out of her mouth, and none of it would be complimentary.
    Luke shrugged. “Chrysandra’s covering for me. I needed to talk to your sister . . . and you, if you want to listen.”
    He mouthed off at her now and then, and she smacked him down from time to time, but they got along a lot better than most werewolves and vampires. Luke was a damned good bartender, and my sister was a damned good boss.
    “What’s up?” Menolly folded her feet under her, sitting in the corner of the sofa. She stopped, sniffed the air, and looked at me. “Is that you ? What the hell are you doing . . .” She stared, then let out a strangled laugh. “Oh my fucking gods, what happened to your hair?”
    I grimaced. “About that . . . yeah. Me. Skunk. Tomato juice. Peroxide and baking soda. I’ve turned into a flaming orange calico, sans the black splotches, as you can see. Iris is researching whether hair dye will make it worse.”
    “I’m glad I don’t have to breathe.” Menolly laughed again.
    “I can help with the smell, I believe,” Luke said, leaning back in his chair. “But I ain’t even gonna try to touch that mop on your head.”
    Blinking at him, I frowned. “Yeah, I have a bad feeling I’m stuck with it until it grows out.”
    Menolly stifled a snort. I flashed her a nasty look, but she shrugged. “What? It’s funny—and if anybody can pull off the look, you can.”
    “Right, that and a dime will buy you the Brooklyn Bridge.” I let out a long sigh. “What about Nerissa? Shouldn’t you take care of her? She looks about ready to pass out. How much did you—she—drink, anyway?”
    Menolly flashed me a toothy grin. “I think she downed a bottle of champagne on her own. Camille and her harem will be home pretty soon, by the way. They stuck around to say good night to some of the stragglers. But before she gets here, I better warn you: Tread carefully around the whole issue of our illustrious father’s