He could go back to Boston, and the vision be damned.
As he took the first steps, the front door of the mansion was flung open on a keening feminine wail. "Corinne! I have to see her! I want to see my daughter!"
Hunter paused to look over his shoulder as an attractive brunette female raced out of the house. She hadn't stopped to grab a coat, had apparently left whatever she'd been doing and run outside in just a white satiny blouse and a narrow, dark skirt. Her high-heeled shoes clicked and skidded as she flew over the cobbled drive, sobbing as she hurried toward the guards and Corinne in the center of the long driveway.
Corinne broke away from the others and rushed to meet her. "Mother!"
The two women fell into a fierce embrace, both of them weeping and laughing, clutching each other tightly as they each spoke in a rush of whispered words punctuated by joyful tears. Victor Bishop was only a moment behind his relieved mate. The Darkhaven's head of household came up in silence, his face pallid and slack in the moonlight, black brows lowered over unblinking dark eyes. A choked cry snagged in the Breed male's throat. "Corinne ..."
She glanced up as he said her name, nodding as he tentatively approached her. "It's really me, Daddy. Oh, God ... I never thought I'd see any of you again!"
Hunter observed the continued reunion, listening as Corinne's stricken father tried to make sense of everything that was happening. "I don't understand how any of this can be,"
Bishop murmured. "You've been gone so long, Corinne. You were dead ..."
"No," she assured him, stepping out of his arms to meet his stunned gaze. "I was taken away that night. You were made to believe I was dead, but I wasn't. All this time, I was kept like a prisoner. But none of that matters now. I'm just so glad to be home again. I never thought I'd be free."
Victor Bishop's head shook slowly. His brows sank lower, deepening his look of confusion. "I can hardly believe it. After all these years ... How is it possible that you're standing here in front of us now?"
"The Order," Corinne replied. Her gaze found Hunter through the cluster of Bishop's guards. "I owe my life to the warriors and their mates. They found the place I was being held. Last week they rescued me and several other captives and brought us to a safe house in Rhode Island."
"Last week," Bishop murmured, sounding both surprised and disturbed. "And no one thought to tell us? We should have been informed that you were all right - we should have been told that you were alive, for crissake."
Corinne gently took his hands in hers. "I couldn't let you hear it from anyone but me, in person. I wanted to be able to see your faces and put my arms around you when I told you what happened to me." Her expression went solemn, almost mournful, a look that did not escape Hunter's notice. "Oh, Daddy ... there's so much I need to tell you and Mother both."
While Corinne's mother hugged her tight and stifled another sob, Victor Bishop's jaw was growing increasingly taut. "And what of your abductor? Good God, please tell me the bastard who stole you from us is dead - "
"He will be," Hunter replied, his interruption drawing the eyes of everyone gathered there. "The Order pursues him as we speak. Soon the one who did this will be no more."
Bishop's narrow look scanned Hunter from head to toe. "Soon isn't good enough when it's my family at risk, warrior." He gestured to his men. "Shut that gate and arm the perimeter sensors. We shouldn't stay out here any longer. Regina, take Corinne into the house. I'll be right behind you."
Bishop's guards hurried to carry out his commands. As Corinne's mother steered her toward the house, Corinne broke away and walked back to where Hunter stood. She held out her hand to him. "Thank you for bringing me home."
He stared for a moment, torn between her strong, steady gaze and the pale, delicate hand that reached out to him, waiting for his acknowledgment.
Hunter took her slender fingers into his grasp. "You are welcome," he murmured, careful not to crush her as his large hand devoured her much smaller one.
He wasn't used to physical contact, and he'd never known any need for gratitude. Still, it was impossible not to notice how soft