An Unauthorized Field Guide to the Hunt by Kari Gregg Read Free Book Online

with a haunch of meat hugging the flames. The meat closest to the fire was already blackened.
    He scrubbed a hand over his face. Without his customary adrenaline blast of morning caff-tea to jolt his brain into gear, Shane struggled to process what the collection of clues and signs meant.
    His cat had returned him to last night’s ill-advised campsite, which was a horrible sign. Disastrous. But the cat had also seen to Shane’s comfort by wrapping him in furs. He might have lit the fire to warm Shane—no telling for sure—but the spit the meat roasted on gleamed, the silvery metal a luxury in arenas where excesses were few. No cat would have such extravagances so soon in this cycle’s Hunt.
    When he inhaled a deep breath, Shane’s nostrils flared at spices that seasoned the meat. Herbs grew plentifully if competitors knew how to identify them, but even cats courting prey rarely bothered since foraging herbs involved leaving mates unguarded. The chunk of meat was also more than a single competitor could reasonably consume. Two wouldn’t finish it. This feast was meant to be shared.
    Blinking sleep away, Shane tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. The gift of food hadn’t come from his cat. And if the cat hadn’t provided for him…
    Last night’s chase must have wowed the wardens.
    However irritating, the scratches were minor. The shots he’d received at the screening center guaranteed such injuries would fade fast in the arena in order to be supplanted by another cat’s, should a mating fail to progress beyond a single coupling. Unlike the scratches, the painful bite at his shoulder was no temporary marking, but a measure of the cat’s avid interest. That wouldn’t heal quickly. The cat had vanished, but he wasn’t throwing Shane back into the Hunt to sample other competitors, not with that bite.
    Didn’t mean the cat wasn’t leery, though. Justifiably.
    Wardens must have voted to help Shane tempt the cat’s return.
    Moaning with equal measures discomfort and grim satisfaction, he pushed off the ground to sit up. Huddling in the furs, he prepared to wait until the cat accepted or rejected the bribe. Staring at the wardens’ largesse, he wondered how dearly the betting had swung in his favor. He must rank near the top of this cycle’s competitors to merit this generosity. The odds for him had been prejudicially high at the start by virtue of him being human, but he’d also earned superior ratings for his diligence in mastering survival craft at the screening center. Were his brothers and his father pleased? Playing well guaranteed his family greater standing and influence at home. With any luck, his performance in the Hunt might sway them to stop trying to kill him. Wouldn’t that be nice.
    The gift of meat boded well for his chances once he left the arena—if he didn’t foul his strategy to number among the strongest losers by permanently mating the cat. Since wardens had scrambled to coax the cat back to him, Shane needn’t be too concerned about becoming a victor yet. If he were in serious trouble, he would’ve woken in the treetops with the cat plastered to his spine, wrapped in the arms that had pinned him down in the darkness. After Shane had passed out, his cat must have been incredibly cautious. So careful the wardens had gifted Shane with enough meat to draw not only the cat, but also a third, maybe a fourth.
    Good.
    Despite the aches, Shane smiled and entertained himself by imagining the cat’s fur bristling at the possibility of losing his prey to others drawn by abundant food and the juicy morsel of a lone, abandoned human.
    Shane’s cat wouldn’t be far, though. Shane was willing to bet he was watching. The cat—and wardens—would want to assess Shane’s reaction to mating so quickly.
    Determined to disappoint neither, Shane tugged up the furs that kept slipping down his shoulders and scooted closer to the fire. He winced at the protesting throb of overtaxed muscles as he reached