Fugitive Fascination

Chapter One

"What. The. Fuck."

A loud groan escaped Reece's mouth as he awoke with a jolt from his troubled sleep, a pounding behind his temples. Grasping the large, fluffy pillows on his bed, he smashed them over his face in order to block out the sunlight that streamed in through his curtain-less windows.

Hunter had it right with those crappy dark purple ones, he thought off-handedly, rolling onto his side as he curled into a ball. He couldn't even honestly remember what had happened the previous night, and that in itself was an indication that he had hit the bottle pretty hard. There was a slight pain in his back whose origin that he couldn't quite put his finger on, and his lower half felt... oddly drained with a familiar tension in his pelvic muscles.

That was when he heard the high, almost feminine grunt beside him, feeling a somewhat small hand graze his back.

Being the man that he was, Reece didn't much want to deal with whoever it was he had bedded; instead, he tried to deepen his breathing and loosen his muscles as if he was still asleep, praying the whoever it was would leave by himself.

"Wow, I'm so sore," The man - no, he sounded young - moaned, shuffling the sheets as he swung his legs off the side of Reece's large bed. "This guy f***s like a goddamn animal." The words clearly weren’t meant for him, but given his perfected senses, of course he heard.

At this, Reece couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face. Even in a drugged up stupor, his libido preceded him.

"Better get out before he wakes up. He doesn't seem like much of a morning dude," The guy murmured to himself, and thus began the hunt for his clothing. A moment later, he heard a distinct, "Goddammit."

Reece snickered internally; he had a habit of being too impatient to allow his partners to strip themselves, so he aided them by completely snatching any cloth away. This was undoubtedly the case for his mystery man, and he felt no remorse for it. The walk of shame awaited him for being a bit too easy.

The next few moments passed with Reece's sensitive ears tracking his movements to make sure he didn't steal anything, finally allowing himself to relax when he heard the front door closing.

Sitting up, he twisted quickly in the bed, tackling a particular puffy area of sheets.

"Ugh!" Pawing at the cloth, he bit it before squeezing it against his chest, releasing a grunt that originated from deep within his chest. He would have to wash his bedding once more; they smelled faintly of cheap cologne and sweat.

Still, that wasn’t a task he could comprehend in the state that he was in. Running a hand through his bed ragged hair, he flattened himself into the bed once more, determined to fall back into unconsciousness in order to sleep off the hangover.

"-of Drakes Enterprises. Highly lethal, Hunter Drakes did not even make it through processing at the facility before she escaped due to faulty management. There is one reported death of a security-"

Upon hearing his surname, Reece sat up so fast he tipped over the edge of the bed, landing on his head. He quickly flipped over onto his back with a sigh, staring up at the television mounted on his wall. The kid must've stepped on the remote or something when he left, Reece hadn't watched the news a day in his life. He barely even used the television at all.

The news anchor shuffled his papers and cleared his throat, causing Reece to grunt in annoyance.

"Speak faster,” He urged, unconsciously beginning to remove himself from the sheets that ensnared his legs.

"She is now at large, and even the FBI has now become involved. More investigations will be carried out and anyone with information is urged to come forward."

A picture of Hunter dressed in a dark grey prison jumpsuit flashed across the screen, a smirk on her face.

This would undoubtedly cause an uproar within their community; although each probably knew of the other's misdeeds, an outright blunder of a Siren that was noticed even within the human world, especially one of the Drakes rank, would be looked down upon. Not only would there be social repercussions, but with the coverage that she was getting, even Reece could tell that they risked exposure if they weren’t careful.

Shaking his head, he patted his legs, forgetting that he was stark naked. He then pulled a random pair of boxers on and grabbed his phone from its usual place between his mattress, dialing a number he had seen less than 42 hours prior.

It rang twice before a tired voice answered, cursing at him in the first sentence.

"God-f*****g-dammit Reece, it's 7 in the morning. What do you want?" He couldn't help the cackle that burst forth, earning a huff of annoyance.

"You owe me 50 big ones, the news says Hunter escaped before she could even be processed."

"Wow."

Raising an eyebrow, Hunter rubbed the towel through out her freshly cut and dyed hair, clearing away as much moisture as possible.

"What? Does the color not look good or something?" The question was purely out of habit; Hunter knew that Noelle had done a good job. She always did.

Reaching up, Noelle ran her fingers through the layered pastel violet locks hanging in front of Hunter's newly aqua marine gaze, shifting it as she pleased to see which way she liked it the most. There was nothing intimate about the gesture, more of a professional aura as the cogs turned in Noelle's head.

"No, no. It looks perfect on you, as do the contacts. The hair cut suits your facial structure suprisingly as well although I had no doubts that it would."

Hunter wondered if her loved one would recognize her when they met again. Wasn't the purpose that she didn't? She knew Cierra would be under surveillance, as would the rest of her family members. She needed a guise before she could even think of making contact with them, but what would that be?

Before she even had the chance to ponder it too much, Noelle gave her another idea.

"I want you to sign to Illusion Records," She stated firmly, sounding as if it wasn't even a choice. "You've got the perfect look to reach our target groups, and I already know you can sing for Christ's sake. We can market you under a new name and you'll go on tours and-"

"Woah, slow your roll," She interrupted. "Don't forget I'm supposed to be hiding. There's only so far the rule hiding in plain sight goes. And I have my own agenda to accomplish, that doesn't include getting swept up in humanity's unhealthy obsession with looks and limited talent."

Hunter had never bothered with the thin illusion of fame concocted by the human race. What was there to fantasize about? A lack of privacy, psychotic fans, a ravenous schedule with no time to herself really, and last but not least the scandals that if occurred in a every day person's life, no one would bat an eye.

O-M-G, that celebrity is actually human and makes mistakes! Who would've known?

She cringed just thinking about it.

Noelle rolled her eyes, something she did a lot around the other woman. "We'll keep a tight cover on things. Plus, no one suspects a popular, loved singer as you could be of murder. Besides, you owe me for looking out for you for years."

Sticking out her hand, she arched a dark eyebrow in Hunter's direction. Eyeing it unhappily, Hunter paused for a moment before releasing a sigh of resignation.

"I'll give it some thought. But first," Hunter held up a finger, halting a celebrating Noelle. "I have some prior strings to tie up."