Knight Hunted (The Return of the Queen Book 1) Read online

  Knight Hunted

  The Return of the Queen 1

  L.A. Grant

  © Copyright 2020 - All rights reserved.

  It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.

  Book cover by Melody Simmons (www.bookcoverscre8tive.com)

  Edited by J.L. Torrance

  Contents

  1. Arlena

  2. Wane

  3. Arlena

  4. Hayden

  5. Percy

  6. Arlena

  7. Wane

  8. Arlena

  9. Hayden

  10. Arlena

  11. Percy

  12. Arlena

  13. Lance

  14. Arlena

  15. Percy

  16. Hayden

  17. Lance

  18. Arlena

  19. Percy

  20. Arlena

  21. Lance

  22. Hayden

  23. Arlena

  24. Percy

  25. Arlena

  26. Lance

  27. Arlena

  28. Wane

  29. Arlena

  30. Percy

  31. Arlena

  32. Percy

  33. Arlena

  34. Wane

  35. Arlena

  36. Lance

  37. Arlena

  38. Percy

  39. Arlena

  40. Lance

  41. Arlena

  42. Percy

  43. Arlena

  44. Arlena

  45. Lance

  46. Hayden

  47. Percy

  48. Arlena

  49. Percy

  50. Wane

  51. Arlena

  52. Percy

  53. Lance

  Epilogue: Arlena

  Lance

  Wane

  Arlena

  The days may come,

  The days may go,

  But still the light of memory weaves

  Those gentle dreams

  Of long ago.

  T.H. White, The Once and Future King

  1

  Arlena

  I knew today would be a shitty day. I just hadn’t known how shitty it was going to be.

  The pink slip from my job crumpled in my fist. It was a shitty job, but necessary for paying the already late bills. Coward of a boss hadn’t even given it to me, just slipped it into my locker.

  Well, fuck this job. I grabbed my jacket and bag and slammed the cheap metal door shut, which echoed satisfyingly across the entire store.

  “Um, Arlena?” Jade, the two o’clock shift replacement came in, arms crossed, looking pleased as punch, “Claude wanted me to tell you to leave your shirt here. It’s company policy.” Her voice dipped down condescendingly.

  “Of course, Assistant Manager,” I said with reverence. She’d only gotten that job over me because she’d slept with the pudgy mess that was Claude. And I’d gotten a pink slip.

  She looked pleased at my demure behavior until I ripped the shirt off in one quick motion, popping off half the buttons, and threw it at her.

  “You bitch!” she shrieked.

  I gave her my most friendly customer service smile and replied: “Have a nice day.”

  I threw my worn leather jacket over my tank top and stormed out the back employees’ entrance into the dirty alley with two overflowing trash bins. In the summer this place was impenetrable with stench. Now, with fall lingering in the air, I could just breathe without gagging.

  The door flew open as I began walking toward the main drag, and Jade leaned out, screaming. “You’ll have to pay for that shirt!”

  I didn’t even bother looking back her way, offering her a one-fingered salute as I turned down the street.

  Screw this shit.

  I needed the paycheck, sure, but there was no way in hell I was throwing any more of my dignity their way.

  Dignity. Ha. What a joke. I hadn’t been able to go to college after my parents spent all their money on my deadbeat brother’s Hollywood dreams. Dreams that had amounted to a giant drug addiction and expensive rehab. Making it clear, once again, that he was by far the favorite and I was a lovely afterthought.

  I pulled out my cell as I walked, considered calling my parents to ask for help, but shoved it back in my pocket. There was no one to call. That was the sad reality, and no amount of wishful thinking would change that.

  I didn’t really have friends, either. Connecting with people proved more difficult than I cared to admit. But they were all so…complicated. Like I didn’t understand what I was supposed to do with them or act around them. Relationships lasted about as long as friendships, because I was too bossy, or bullheaded or, my favorite, redheaded.

  Well, I am a redhead, so get over it.

  I turned down the street that housed my shitty apartment building, all grays and beiges and barely any green in sight. A tree or two wouldn’t exactly kill this part of town.

  A strange sound caught my attention to my left, a fluttering of large wings. I turned just as a large bird, maybe a hawk, landed on top of the broken lamppost in front of my building.

  He was majestic. Long, brown feathers of various shades gave his plumage depth. But it was his yellow eyes that caught my attention. They were focused directly on me, not shifting or showing fear, as though he’d travelled all this way just to stare at me.

  “You get lost?” I asked the bird, feeling silly for speaking to him. But it was damn nice to speak to something that wasn’t about to judge me or cast me out.

  He turned his head as though he understood and made a short squawking sound.

  “You and me both,” I said back to him. He’d gotten lost from his forest or wherever it was he lived. And I’d just generally gotten lost in life. He gave me one more look, stretched his wings and took off, vanishing around my building and flying away.

  I sighed, feeling surprisingly devastated at his departure.

  I need to make some friends. I tried to lighten my own mood, but it only made me feel worse.

  I headed into my crappy building, to reach my shitty apartment, to try to figure out what I’d do next with my screwed-up life.

  2

  Wane

  My job was simple: find the target, tell the others, bring the target back home.

  Simplicity was required in what I did. Scout ahead, hunt, retrieve…the clearer the mission, the higher the chances of success. Muddling everything up with too many parameters usually resulted in some kind of memorable disaster.

  This mission should have been simple. There shouldn’t have been any deviations or weirdness.

  But then the beacon had brought me straight to her. Not our king, as expected. To a red-haired woman, breathtakingly beautiful, fury blazing in her green eyes…but definitely not our king.

  I could theorize about who she was and why the beacon had brought me to her instead of our king. But that would be a waste of time. I had to keep it simple.

  Fate and magic had brought me to her, which meant that it would also bring the Dark Knight. The mystery of who she was hardly mattered if she got killed before we could figure it out.

  I swooped down and signaled Hayden, his stocky frame hidden in the shadows between two nearby buildings. He nodded at my signal and I flew up, following the girl,
intent on getting her out before we all got killed.

  3

  Arlena

  This place always smelled of mildew, no matter how much incense or smelly buck store candles I went through. I threw my keys in the little basket I kept by the door and was about to take off my coat and kick off my shoes when a noise near my balcony caught my attention.

  I’d left the balcony door open, since the place was so stuffy, and being on the third floor afforded me enough safety from break-ins. Not like there was anything worth stealing here, anyway.

  I grabbed the baseball bat I kept near the front door and headed in quietly, blood pounding in my ears. I’d never been able to afford self-defense classes, but damn I wish I’d have taken some now. I hoped the bat would be enough to scare whoever was there.

  I went by my tiny bedroom, as empty as I’d left it. The only places left to check were the bathroom and the kitchen/living room combo, maybe twenty by twenty feet of mildew-stinking space.

  The living room and kitchen were equally empty. I checked the bathroom, but there was no one there, either. I was sure I’d heard something!

  A squawking sound caught my attention, and I headed to the balcony. The bird from earlier perched on the railing. It seemed way bigger now that it was only a few feet away from me, and it seemed intent on getting my attention.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, as though it could answer me. It bobbed its head up and down and squawked.

  “I don’t…” my answer was cut off by someone pounding at my front door. I gasped and dropped the baseball bat.

  The bird screeched, scaring me as it unfolded its wings and launched itself in the air, staying near as though calling me to follow it.

  Another smash and the door splintered inward, chunks flying into the living room. A large man stepped in, dressed all in black, metal plates attached to dark leather. His face was completely covered except his eyes, which were visible through a slit in his dark mask. Those golden eyes narrowed on seeing me frozen near my balcony. He seemed as confused by my presence as I was by his.

  Okay, I was more terrified than puzzled.

  He seemed to make up his mind and grabbed the hilt of a great broadsword from his back. Before he’d completely freed it, the bird flew in my apartment, shrieking, and went straight for the attacker’s eyes.

  I didn’t wait to see how it turned out. I tried to duck for the door, but the two were fighting right near it, the attacker intent on blocking my way as he tried to fight off the bird’s claws.

  Balcony. The bird’s original idea wasn’t too bad, I guess. Better than being eviscerated.

  I leaned over the edge, the ground only three floor downs, but impossibly far away. My head spun as I gripped the metal railing of the balcony, rust rough under my fingers.

  A shriek from the bird knocked me back to my senses. I straddled the edge and swung my legs over the railing.

  Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down…my mind spun with the fear. I just had to make the next balcony railing, and then it was one more floor to the ground. That wasn’t so bad.

  Before I lost my nerve, I lowered myself down, dangling from the edge of my balcony until my feet found the next railing.

  Shit. How the hell was I supposed to get my hands down? My stomach flip-flopped.

  “Let go and I’ll catch you!” A rough voice said from below. I couldn’t turn around to see who’d spoken, too terrified by the drop.

  “I can’t,” I answered, too softly for the man below to hear.

  The bird flew out of the open balcony door, a few feathers falling around it, the attacker not far behind. Before I could decide whether to let go or not, the bird grabbed the back of my coat with its talons and yanked, pulling me straight off the balcony.

  I didn’t even have time to scream as I fell, the whole world spinning for a split second before I landed hard. I rose up on my elbows. Miraculously, I didn’t seem to be hurt.

  “Told you I’d catch you.” A large man held me, a grin on his face, light blue eyes shining with joy as though he’d just met his oldest friend. His large arms made me feel tiny but also protected, as though nothing in the world could get to me while this man kept me safe.

  “We have to go,” he said, gently putting me down on the ground. He was more than six feet tall and broad-shouldered. Every inch of him was covered in muscle. He wore sensible jeans and a dark t-shirt, apparently unaffected by the nipping breeze.

  “This way,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me through the parking structure in the back. I let him guide me, looking back once to see my balcony empty. I had no doubt that the attacker was running to the stairs to catch us.

  To catch me.

  We cleared the parking garage quickly and ducked left beside another apartment building. The man didn’t let go of my hand, as though he intended to keep me safe no matter what. I didn’t complain. I was terrified, my heart hammering in my chest like a jackhammer.

  He looked up, the bird flying just above us as though leading the way.

  “This way,” he said, following the bird.

  “We’re following the bird?” I managed to gasp out as we kept running.

  “Falcon,” he said, then grinned back. “He’ll get us somewhere safe.”

  I nodded, not wanting to waste more breath on questions that only led to more questions. I had no clue what was going on, but some guy with a sword fetish was trying to kill me, and that was enough to keep me moving.

  We crossed the next road which stood deserted, as though everyone but us knew that being out right now was a bad idea. We reached a small empty park and cut across it. The surrounding trees and shrubbery provided some cover. The falcon waited patiently atop a swing set.

  “Gotta move faster,” the man grunted, picking up his pace. Damn it, he could move fast for such a big guy. I struggled to keep up. His grip on my hand was firm, as though he had no intention of letting me go.

  It comforted me and terrified me all at once. Why was he so intent on keeping me safe? Was the attacker still even pursuing us?

  As if on cue, the falcon shrieked and flew up. The man yanked me down and I landed in the sand hard. Something whizzed by my ear and clanked against the metal post of the swing set.

  An arrow landed point-first in the sand just in front of me, and I looked at it with wide eyes.

  What the hell was going on? Did I get trapped in some Medieval Times on drugs?

  “Take cover,” the man said, standing up. I scrambled up and threw myself behind the slide. The falcon landed atop it, as though intent on keeping me safe.

  “Give the girl to me,” the black-clad attacker said, stepping out of the line of trees. What the hell did he want with me?

  “Nice getup, Mordred,” the tall man said, laughter still in his voice. “Is that knight chic for the modern man?”

  “I’m going to enjoy killing you, Galahad,” Mordred answered, his voice filled with vitriol.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Galahad answered. “Hasn’t happened yet. And,” he continued, a growl in his words, “name’s Hayden now.”

  “Just die,” Mordred said, and I chanced a look around the slide. Mordred threw down his bow and pulled out his sword, moving in on Hayden, who stood his ground, fleet planted, arms relaxed. The great sword came down as Mordred screamed, and I was sure Hayden would get eviscerated.

  But the sword hit metal, a great shield now strapped to Hayden’s arm.

  “Did you really think I’d leave home without my toy?” he said and thrust the shield up, just missing Mordred’s chin.

  The falcon seemed focused on the battle, keeping an eye on Hayden, who I guessed was its master.

  Time to make a run for it.

  I appreciated Hayden’s help, but I didn’t know what any of them wanted with me, and quite frankly, I was better off on my own.

  It’s what I was best at, after all.

  4

  Hayden

  The sword struck my sh
ield again, my arm straining against the blow. Mordred was pretty pissed. He always struck harder when he meant to kill.

  And I had no doubt that he intended to kill me if given the chance. I pushed back against his blow, using my shield to get a hit in, hoping to incapacitate his arm before he struck again. His sword possessed the sharpness his wits lacked, and it was only made more deadly by his anger at her escape.

  Her. Why were we rescuing a girl? The mission had been to save our king. But Wane had honed in on her, and Wane was never wrong.

  Mordred shifted sideways and avoided my blow, coming quickly with a second blow, just catching the edge of my shield. I growled and pushed him back, going on the attack and getting one blow on his chest. I could only conjure one weapon, and I’d chosen my shield, always. It allowed me to keep others safe, but it lacked certain finesse in the fighting department. I missed my great sword, which would put Mordred’s to shame.

  “She’s not even your king,” Mordred huffed as he fought to recover his breath after my blow. “Let us have her and go back to hunting for the one you truly want.”