On the Hunt Read Online Free PDF

behind a large desk to smooth his hands down his robe, made from a rough brown fabric.
    At a glance Brother Noland looked like he was in his early forties. His short blond hair was untouched by gray and there were only a few lines that radiated around the pale blue eyes. But his position as the leader of the monastery meant that he’d been around at least a couple of centuries.
    “You didn’t find him?” the monk demanded.
    Mika stayed near the doorway, his gaze instinctively skimming the tidy room lined with leather-bound books before returning to the monk.
    He didn’t expect to walk into a trap, but then again, he was always prepared for trouble.
    Well, that wasn’t entirely true, was it?
    If he was always prepared he wouldn’t have been blindsided by Bailey Morrell.
    He grimaced, grimly shoving aside the thought of the beautiful healer.
    During his return to the monastery he’d come to a few conclusions.
    Number one, he wasn’t done with his former lover. Not even close.
    Number two, his decision number one would have to wait until Jacob was safely returned to the monks.
    “I found the car, which had been run into the ditch,” he said.
    Brother Noland flinched. “He wasn’t—”
    “No. The crash wasn’t enough to hurt him,” he reassured the monk, revealing what he’d hidden from Bailey.
    Not that it was a big secret. He suspected she’d been well aware the boy’s injuries had come from something besides a car ride into a tree.
    “Thank God.”
    “There was, however, blood at the scene.”
    “Jacob?”
    “Yes.” He glanced over his shoulder, ensuring there was no one lurking in the long corridor outside the office. “I would guess that he was deliberately run off the road and beaten.”
    Brother Noland’s breath hissed between his teeth, anger flashing through the blue eyes.
    Monks were just as lethal as any trained Sentinel. “Who would do such a thing?”
    “I intend to find out.”
    “I agree,” the monk said. “But the most important thing is finding Jacob. Was there any sign of him?”
    Mika’s lips twisted. “I traced his blood to the middle of the swamp.”
    “Really?” The blue eyes widened, a sudden comprehension softening the tension etched onto his lean face. “Ah. Bailey must have found him.”
    “You know her?”
    Mika didn’t know why he was surprised. High-bloods usually sought out one another’s company, unless they were trying to pass as a norm.
    Of course, most high-bloods chose to live in Valhalla or one of the numerous satellite compounds spread around the world.
    Not alone in the middle of the damned bayou.
    “Our paths have crossed,” the monk admitted. “Although she prefers to keep her distance from the monastery.”
    Mika gave a humorless laugh. “Don’t take it personally. Bailey has a prejudice against anyone she thinks is a part of the vast conspiracy to enslave the high-bloods.”
    Brother Noland lifted a brow. “Enslave?”
    “Her word, not mine.”
    “Ah.” He shrugged. “She’s a free spirit.”
    Mika clenched his hands. God. He really, really hated those words.
    It implied that Bailey merely breezed through life without touching the world.
    Not that she was a bullheaded wrecking ball who managed to create utter chaos.
    “She’s—” He bit off his words, giving a shake of his head. “Never mind.”
    The monk studied him with an oddly knowing gaze. “You have a past with the healer?”
    A past. And a future. Even if she didn’t know it yet.
    “Yes.”
    “She’s a kind woman who is always eager to help those in need.”
    No shit.
    “Even those who don’t deserve her help,” he said, his expression stoic despite the frustration that simmered just below the surface.
    “Yes, well, it’s a rare person who doesn’t judge others,” Brother Noland murmured.
    Mika narrowed his eyes. He didn’t give a damn about others. Not when they put Bailey at risk.
    “If she helped Jacob, then she could be in danger.”
    The monk gave a slow nod.