An Unauthorized Field Guide to the Hunt by Kari Gregg

will last a while. Do you mind if I take more?” He pointed his fork at the roasted meat.
    “Help yourself.”
    “You don’t know what you’re missing.” He cut another chunk free and groaned at the juices that spilled into the fire. “Aren’t you worried about angering wardens by rejecting their gift?”
    So Fallon wasn’t too stupid to notice the metal spit either. Shane’s estimation of the guy climbed another notch. “The meat was to lure the cat. Not for me.”
    “There’s a lot.” Fallon licked his oily fingers. “Sure it wasn’t to attract an ally?”
    “That too.” Shane sighed. “But the feast still wasn’t for me.”
    “ Everything is for you. The cats crave an early victor, always have, and from what I’ve seen you’re their best chance in Arena 4.”
    “Not if I starve to death.” Shane returned to rifling through his stuff. “My flatscreen is gone,” he grumbled. “How am I supposed to know what’s safe to eat without my screen?”
    “Oh,” Fallon said on a long drawl.
    Shane lifted his chin. “What?”
    Fallon wiped his greasy fingers on a bunch of leaves. “Your odds were so good in pre-Hunt betting. I thought you’d realize.”
    “Realize what?” Shane asked, irritation growing.
    “Your cat wants you dependent on him.”
    Shane frowned. “Hunt rules forbid any action by a cat that directly and intentionally impedes a player’s ability to compete.”
    “He’ll provide for you and if need be return your screen should your mating fail.” Fallon smirked. “Until then he’s courting you. Remember: they need to lure us to them too.”
    Shane shivered, recalling in embarrassing detail how exquisitely the cat had lured him last night. “I’m here, aren’t I? I wouldn’t have made it through the battery of screening tests if I didn’t grasp that mating a cat is my sole purpose inside the arena,” he said, schooling his features so wardens wouldn’t read the lie on his face.
    “Me too. Sole purpose: kitty bait. Got it.” Fallon winked. “I’m here for a fast track into the diplomatic corps. You?”
    Smothering a grin, Shane gave his brothers a mental fuck you . “Fleeing homicidal relatives.”
    Fallon studied Shane, assessing his injuries up and down. “Volunteering to be tossed to a bunch of horny cats has worked out so much better for you. Safer.”
    “Shut up.” Shane chuckled, for the first time genuinely regretting he’d met Fallon in the arena. Why couldn’t they have bumped into each other afterward? Running from Narone had saved Shane’s life, but he’d also left everyone he’d known behind. He hadn’t even contacted his grandmother once he’d arrived at the screening center for fear his murderous brothers would target her for retribution because she’d helped Shane escape. He needed a friend, but that wasn’t going to happen, not now. The closest thing he could have to that in the arena was… “Ally?”
    “Allies.” Fallon stuffed a last morsel of meat into his mouth. “That bite’s seeping. A little scarring is part of the Hunt, but infection could net you a medical evac—unwanted this early, at least,” he said. “Want antibiotics from my first-aid kit?”
    Shane wasn’t sure if a scar from last night would be a positive sign or a horrible mistake—damn cat, lousy hormones, cursed mating lust—but he definitely didn’t want to get sick. “Sure.”
    When Fallon reached around the campfire to pass the tube of ointment, snarls erupted from the tree canopy directly above them.
    Fallon yanked his hand back, the color draining from his face.
    Stomach jittering, Shane forced a stiff smile. The cat had mated very strongly to him. Shoving down fresh fear and unwelcome anticipation, he slipped the mocs from his backpack and over his feet. “Move out of range while I draw him away,” he told Fallon. “I’ll find you later. Don’t look for me. Unless he wants information, the cat will drive you off.”
    “Later. Got it.” Fallon