Dragon Hunter Box Set: A Dragon Shifter Serial Read online

  Dragon Hunter

  Box Set

  Carina Wilder

  Contents

  Part 1

  Dragon Hunter

  Copyright

  Foreword

  1. Lapsed

  2. Sharp Objects

  3. Stranger

  4. Innocence

  5. Umbra

  6. Syndicate

  7. Dragonman

  8. Stalker

  9. Insomnia

  10. Sleep

  11. Flight

  12. The Heath

  Part 2

  Dragon Hunter 2

  Introduction

  1. Underground

  2. The Guild

  3. Into the Line of Fire

  4. Journey

  5. The Hash

  6. Tight Spaces

  7. Second Home

  8. Aegis and Lyre

  9. Scars

  10. Need

  Part 3

  Dragon Hunter 3

  1. Under the Lake

  2. The Verse

  3. Changes

  4. St. Pancras Station

  5. The Old Church

  6. Separation

  7. Truth and Consequences

  8. Revelations

  9. Darkness Falling

  10. Help

  Part 4

  Dragon Hunter 4

  1. A Visitor

  2. Dreams

  3. Dragon Bone

  4. Back Under the Heath

  5. Bonds

  6. A Meeting of Minds

  7. The First Battle

  8. Conflict

  9. Departure

  10. Umbra

  11. Hunt

  12. The Relic

  More from London’s Dragon Shifters

  Also by Carina Wilder

  About the Author

  Part I

  Dragon Hunter

  Book One

  Copyright © 2016

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Foreword

  This is the compilation of a four-book serial entitled Dragon Hunter, assembled into one full-length box set. If you’ve read the individual books, you’ve already been through Neko’s journey with her. If not, enjoy the ride!

  For more reading about Dragon Shifters and their sexy mates, see the links below. NOTE: The previous books involve ménage romance, but Dragon Hunter and the following serials involve only one Hero, one Heroine and happy ends all around.

  Happy Reading!

  xox Carina

  Sought by the Alphas, a five-part serial:

  Sought by the Alphas Box Set

  Seeking Her Mates, Sequel to Sought by the Alphas: Complete Set (Five Books)

  The Seekers, the follow-up novels to Seeking Her Mates:

  Illusions

  Sorceress

  Lapsed

  The figure ambled along the London sidewalk with all the grace of a five-legged insect, no apparent destination in mind. Vacant eyes darted to his left and right, seemingly in an effort to size up the humans around him. Though of course, eyesight was far from his most heightened sense.

  Watching from a shadowed overhang across the road, Neko reminded herself that the repulsive man’s vision would be fuzzy at best, decayed along with most other aspects of his human form. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed him, locking on the slow-moving creature.

  As if to confirm her thoughts, every few seconds her target’s nose pointed upward, sniffing the air as an animal’s would, his extraordinary sense of smell compensating for any lack of keen eyes. A gifted tracker, he could locate one victim in a crowd of thousands of humans, just as others of his kind could.

  To anyone who took notice of the stranger momentarily, he appeared to be nothing more than an eccentric, homeless fellow with soiled clothing and the scent of week-old sewage about him. Both of which were very good reasons for anyone around him to give him a very wide berth.

  But to Neko, it was obvious that he was anything but a vagrant.

  “A Lapsed, searching out its next victim,” she muttered, frozen in observation, her leather-clad back arched taut against the white wall, thumb and index finger assessing the dagger’s sharpness between them. “This one’s a pussy, I should think.” And not the good kind. More of a disgusting, mangy, decaying cat.

  But despite the appearance of rot and weakness, the moment he shifted he’d be able to kill almost instantly and without remorse. The creature’s humanity had long since been torn away, his outer shell simply a vehicle, an illusion of humanness; a means to blend in to the public at large so that he could strike quickly and without warning.

  In spite of all his concealed potential, the limping entity remained of little consequence to those around him as he advanced. After all, he was just another body among thousands who roamed London’s Edwardian streets, the humans around him oblivious to the danger he posed.

  And they were right to be indifferent, of course. The Lapsed never sought humans—only shifters.

  But this one hadn’t yet located his prey. If anything, he appeared lost, disoriented, as though his target were near but untraceable. Hours might pass before he could uncover its whereabouts.

  But Neko didn’t mind. She had hours to kill. With nowhere to be, she was only too happy to wait until he made his move before taking the bastard down. Compelled by curiosity to find out who—or what—he was after. That was the one thing that made the Lapsed useful; they were very good at leading her to shifters.

  Reaching up, she pulled her long brown hair back into a tight pony tail and secured it with an elastic, deftly managing to avoid stabbing herself. A leather jacket concealed most of her weaponry: a diagonal assortment of blades of varying sizes, held across her torso by a leather bandolier. All in all, she was an intimidating figure, though her arsenal was more scant than usual. Normally she carried a crossbow, or even a Khopesh, a curved sword, excellent for gutting one’s enemies. But today she was traveling light, ready to dash forward at a second’s notice and to take her mark down with one stroke of a dagger’s blade.

  Her impeccable focus, however, was disturbed by a loud buzz emanating from her pocket, tearing her mind away from the task at hand.

  Bollocks. Damned phone. The Hunter grimaced. The call could be important. But bad timing, whoever you are.

  She shoved the dagger back into its sheath and tore the cell out of her jacket. The number on the screen was that of Bertie, her boss at the Syndicate. More old friend than dictator, a woman of forty whose upper class accent and penchant for innuendo always made her sound like dirty-minded royalty. Neko had always liked her for it.

  “My Queen,” she said as she pressed the phone to her ear, eyes still focused on the Lapsed, who was sniffing eagerly at a loose brick as though it were the remnants of a freshly baked apple pie.

  “Neko. Listen, a new client just phoned—he wants to meet with you. You free in the morning?”

  “I don’t know; I was considering spending the morning filing my toenails into sharp points, but I suppose I could delay for another day.”

  “Very gracious of you, thanks. I know how your gentleman callers enjoy being assaulted with jabby nails when you’re in the throes of passion.”

  The Lapsed was beginning to move again, stumbling down the street, and Neko followed from her side, phone still glued to her ear as she navigated between the sea of bustling bodies that moved in the
opposite direction.

  “No problem,” she said. “No gentleman callers of late. At the moment, however, I’ve got my eye on a very attractive creature.”

  “Oh? Is he a sexy thing, then?”

  “So sexy that I just want to tear his clothing off. Or perhaps just stab him in the head.”

  “A Lapsed, is it?”

  “Yes, and a particularly ghastly one, at that.”

  Neko could all but hear Bertie’s eyes rolling. She’d never entirely approved of Hunters going rogue, and Neko did so on far too regular a basis.

  “You’re incorrigible, you know. It’s not your job to kill every one of them. Besides which, I thought this was your day off. You should be home, watching television. Or knitting some wool knickers. Surely there’s a hobby that doesn’t involve making things bleed.”

  “Possibly. But for now, I’m looking at my hobby. And he’s going to kill someone if I don’t get him first, the smelly wanker. And you know I can’t do him in until he shifts, so I’m being patient. I’m not about to leave him to his murderous devices.”

  “Yes, my point exactly. He’ll kill someone. Quite possibly you. I don’t want to lose my best Hunter to some zombified shifter.”

  “You won’t. He has no interest in me, anyway. I think he’s after something big.”

  “Big, you say?” Bertie’s voice had gone pensive. “I wonder if he’s after one of them.”

  “One of what?” Neko paused as the Lapsed stopped, once again snorting at the air above him.

  “A Dragon.”

  Sharp Objects

  Neko went silent for a moment before replying. “A Dragon? I doubt it. The Lapsed is earth-bound, and they—the Dragons—have bleedin’ wings. A flyer could get away from him easily enough.”

  The Dragons had only appeared about London in recent weeks, more and more of them occupying the skies above the city. At first, the general population had seemed a little freaked out by their presence, but they’d quickly gotten over it, just as they’d come to ignore the other shifters in their midst. It was almost as though a veil had been deliberately draped over their minds, causing a sort of selective blindness that prevented them seeing the creatures who walked among their ranks.

  Bertie had once called it the greatest illusion ever perpetrated; more magic than nature. A force beyond human understanding.

  Neko, on the other hand, had never been one to ignore shifters. If she could have she might have tried, but she’d been cursed early on with a hyper-awareness of their kind. Constantly noticing them on the street, bright eyes, strong bodies and focused minds an almost immediate giveaway. They weren’t like humans. They were somewhat extraordinary, to say the least.

  But the Dragons were beyond that, even, at least in their déors, the ancient word for their shifted forms. She’d seen her first one only recently, in full flight above the city. And she had to admit that it was beyond beautiful: entrancing, graceful and even a little frightening in its exquisite perfection. But at least the creature had seemed to mean no harm. Rather, the Dragons appeared to be nothing more than silent, sky-bound sentinels watching over the city.

  Though what they were watching for, no one knew. Not even her.

  “A Dragon in his déor could get away easily, you mean,” said Bertie. “In his human body, perhaps not so much. Not that a Lapsed is likely to locate such a creature. I’ve never even seen a Dragon shifter in human form. As far as I can tell, they’re awfully good at concealing themselves from prying eyes.”

  “I haven’t seen one either, other than their déors hovering over the Houses of Parliament, but now you’ve got me all curious.”

  “I hear that their man-forms are magnificent. As in jaw-droppingly, earth shatteringly, orgasmically, pantie wettingly wonderful.” Bertie’s voice drifted off; suddenly she’d become less about business than about sexual fantasies involving scaled flying creatures.

  “Bloody hell, woman, you need a few days of seriously hot sex, I think,” Neko scolded. “You sound like a porn star faking arousal.”

  “You’re right—perhaps there’s a second career in that industry for me. I wonder how many jobs there are these days for forty-something ladies making passionate love with Dragon shifter men…”

  “If anyone could make a living that way, it’d be you, Bert.”

  “I may just have to look into it, then. But in the meantime, you need to be careful, my darling. Don’t get yourself devoured.”

  “I have approximately twenty-three blades on my person, and I know how to use them. How likely do you suppose it is that I would be vulnerable to a wretched Lapsed?”

  “Not very. But I was talking about Dragons. If your target’s after one of them, you never know how this might end if the gorgeous creature sets eyes on you.”

  “From what you tell me, being devoured by a Dragon would be a glorious and orgasmic fate. Surely you wouldn’t discourage such a thing.”

  “Come to think of it, yeah. Find one, fuck his sexy brains out and report back. I want to know if they’re as good in bed as the legends say.”

  “The legends say that they make fire come out of their mouths. And I’m not sure it’s the sort that sparks up between a woman’s legs.”

  “Mmmm.” Bertie was off in her sexual wonderland again. “All right, kill the bloody Lapsed if you like; I know you’d never so much as snog a Dragon, anyhow. You’d probably just glare at the poor fellow until he ran away sobbing. But back to business: tomorrow morning, be in that stench-ridden hell hole that you call an office. This client is going to be coming to you around ten a.m.”

  “A man, is it?”

  “Yes. I don’t know much about him, but he asked for my best. So naturally, I gave him your information.”

  “Aw, you’re sweet.” Neko’s voice was laced with cynicism.

  “And you’re a lunatic who’s good at opening veins. Easily recommended for that reason, if for no other.”

  “You flatter me. But listen, I should go. The walking sack of excrement across the way is behaving erratically. I think he’s picking something up.”

  “Right, then, go to it. But remember—tomorrow. His name is Umbra, and I don’t think he’d tolerate tardiness well.”

  “I’ll be there. Don’t get your knickers in a twist, boss-woman. Will report back later.”

  Neko hung up the phone and shoved it back into her pocket, slowly extracting one blade from her sleeve as she watched the Lapsed’s movements quicken, growing progressively more confident. She moved along in parallel with its footfalls, her own pace picking up.

  Bertie had been correct; this was her day off. And taking down this Lapsed would a work of pure vigilantism. Pleasure, rather than income. This was when Neko enjoyed herself most; these brief conquests, each takedown a triumph. She was a silent, knife-wielding heroine of her own story, and it gave her life meaning to do good. Even if she was the only one who knew about her exploits.

  By now, her prey had stopped moving and she could see the nostrils flare on his grey, drawn face, as he took in the scents around him. Whoever his victim was, it was close.

  The Hunter glanced around casually before striding across the street towards him. Only a taxi cab threatened to interrupt her trajectory, but it had stopped for a moment to wait for a slow, elderly passenger. So she stepped quickly towards her prey, aiming for a building a little distance from his current location. The Lapsed would be close enough to reach within a few seconds, but not so close that he’d feel threatened by a Hunter in his presence.

  She pressed her back to the corner of a brick storefront, her eyes seeking her target’s apparent victim. Finally she spotted him: a tall, handsome-looking man, reading a newspaper at a bus stop. He stood at least thirty feet from where Neko was planted, seemingly oblivious to the encroaching threat against his life.

  As she watched, a bus pulled up in front of him and its passengers began to disembark, the man waiting patiently as they did so. The Lapsed advanced through the throng, moving ever clos
er to his prey, and ever farther from Neko’s reach.

  “Shite,” she growled under her breath. There were too many people between them now, so throwing a weapon to stop the assailant was an impossibility. And the creature might very well be on his victim before she could get close.

  She’d waited too damned long to make her move.

  There was no time to ponder her error in judgment; her pleasure hunt had just turned into a mission to save someone’s life. She sprang forward, extracting a second dagger from her sleeve, her fingers grasping narrow handles of bone and silver.

  The Lapsed was now only a few feet from the man, the crowd thinning so that nothing and no one stood between them. Neko could see the repugnant creature preparing for his shift, his form tensing, hands fisting into tight balls. His victim, meanwhile, was still ignorant of the threat—at least he seemed it. Completely unaware that his throat would be torn out within seconds.

  But if Neko had any say in the matter, it wouldn’t be his throat that was eviscerated. She sprinted, lunging forward in a frenzied blur of long limbs and leather. No way was she going to allow that waste of oxygen to get to the stranger, whoever—whatever—he was.

  No fucking way.

  With one swift leap, she managed to land on her target just as he made the shift into his large lion form, his fur a ratty, tangled mess of grey and orange. Wincing from the beast’s foul odour, she reached long arms around his confused head, thrusting one hand about his neck even as she drew a blade along flesh, the other dagger piercing his side and finding a vital organ with ease.

  The creature fell onto its side under her, landing with a thud even as the man turned her way, his eyes locking on hers for a moment.

  His expression was blank, no look of surprise on his features. It was almost as though he’d known the Lapsed would attack, and that he would survive. But as odd as his reaction was, by no means was it the most striking thing about him.