A/N: Before starting this fic, be aware that this is book four in the Paint it Black series. Of course if you haven't read the earlier installments, you are still more than welcome to enjoy this story, just be aware that there will be many references and plot points to my established timeline.

See you at the end! ;)

Hunted

Certainly there is no hunting like the hunting of man,

And those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it,

Never really care for anything else thereafter.

-Ernest Hemingway, "On the Blue Water"

Chapter One: A Code of Honor

...

...

Edward Price

I enter the room with my shoulders thrown back and head held high, a disdainful expression set firmly across my face to distract from the sweatiness of my palms and the way my hand trembles around its grip on the briefcase.

I'm not afraid. I'm not.

I take in the study, careful to keep my expression the same; bored, unimpressed. It couldn't be further from the truth.

Holy shit. My fingers clench around the slick metal handle. The wealth around me is staggering, but it makes the furnishings all the more disturbing.

The vaulted ceiling is shadowed, the only light in the room coming from a massive, roaring fireplace, large enough for four men to stand inside it with room to spare. The heat in the room is sweltering, and I resist the urge to pull at the collar of my shirt. Flickering orange light casts eerie shadows across the trophies littering the walls, lining the walkway.

The room is filled to the brim with animals.

All dead, of course.

Dead and stuffed with beady black eyes that gleam and seem to follow my every footstep. To my right, a lion is frozen, his paw reaching towards me, claws glinting in mid swipe. To my left, a grizzly bear, standing up on thick legs, his shaggy fur giving off an orange glow from the firelight as he bares his jagged teeth in a menacing snarl.

The animals, the trophies, I correct myself, are everywhere, each animal more impressive than the last. And for those too big to fit in the study, the buffalo and rhino and elephants, their heads or tusks are mounted on the walls, framed on polished wooden plaques.

A frozen menagerie.

My eyes are drawn to the back of the room as I stride forward, a huge, towering arm chair placed directly in front of the fire, seated at an equally large and ornate desk, the fiery glow casting the seated figure in dark shadows. His form is sprawled on the chair like it is a throne, and I can't make out much besides the thick, muscled forearms, and the gleaming, black leather boots resting on the rug on the floor.

Not a rug, I realize. The skinned fur of a polar bear.

Jesus Christ.

"Mr. Kravinoff," I call, giving him a winning smile. I surreptitiously wipe my sweaty palm on my slacks before stretching it out towards him in a handshake.

The man doesn't move an inch. I'm left standing there awkwardly, about five feet away, with my hand sticking out uselessly in the air. I clear my throat and drop my arm back to my side.

"You will address me as Kraven," his Russian accent is thick, his voice a deep, rumbling growl.

"Er...Kraven, then. My apologies. I'm-"

"I don't care to know your name," Kraven interrupts, and I try not to bristle. "State your business, or get out."

My outrage is buried beneath a thicket of nervousness. This is not a man to cross. It's why I was sent here in the first place. So I clear my throat again, and gesture from my briefcase to the desk in front of him. "May I?"

He doesn't answer, so I assume he doesn't much care. I lift the briefcase onto the desk and fumble with the clasps, my sweaty fingers slipping on the slick metal for an embarrassingly long moment.

"Posmotri na drozhashchego trusa," Kraven murmurs deeply, and the guards I didn't even notice standing on either side of the desk a respectful distance away, snort out their laughter.

My face reddens. I don't speak Russian, but I know when I am being mocked. Clenching my teeth together, I finally open the case, lift out the slim, gray file, and place it on the desk in front of Kraven.

"My employer would like to enlist your services, Mr….er, Kraven," I straighten my spine, waiting for him to open the file and look at the photographs and documents within.

He doesn't.

"The file," my voice cracks slightly, and I clear my throat before continuing, "contains information on the vigilante known as Spiderman. The protector of Queens, they call him, perhaps you've heard…? No? Er-my employer has become aware of your numerous talents, your incomparable skill, and is willing to pay you a handsome fee if you would see to it that Spiderman is...taken care of. He has become quite a thorn in our...organization's side, you see."

My eyes shoot to Kraven's right arm, the thick muscles beneath his skin tightening. When he speaks next, I fight the desire to shrink into the floor. "I allow you, to come into my home, and you see fit to insult me?" His voice is low, tight, full of deadly promise that makes my skin crawl. "I am no mercenary."

"I didn't-"

"I am a hunter," Kraven's massive fingers dig into the fabric of his chair.

"We've sent mercenaries," I blurt nervously, beads of sweat rolling down my back. "We've hired the best that money can buy. None have even come close to eliminating him. He's bested them all, and we-"

"Turn around."

"...I'm sorry, what?"

"Turn. Around," Kraven's voice brooks no argument. Stiffening, my chest tight with the beginnings of panic, I turn slowly, my heart pounding violently in my chest.

"Look at him," Kraven orders in a low rumble. "Look at the beast before you."

My eyes fix on the animal barely a few feet in front of me.

"Tell me what you see."

I swallow thickly, my breath coming out in a tense wheeze as I take in the pitch black fur, the inch long, pale fangs, the sharp, yellow eyes boring into me. "It's, uh, it's a panther."

"Look again."

My teeth grind together as my fingers curl into shaking fists. Whatever test he is giving me, I am failing. And I do not want to know what happens to those who fail this brute of a man's tests. My eyes fly over the cat's form, looking for any special detail, any remarkable trait or sign that I should be noticing. Nerves clench my stomach into tiny, painful knots. What the hell am I missing? It's a panther, isn't it? What is it that he wants me to see?

Just when I'm about to give up, I see it.

I don't know much about big game animals. Nothing, really. But my daughter watches enough of the discovery channel for me to know that the biggest cat out there is the tiger. Behind the panther's stuffed form, an orange and black striped cat lurks, its size significantly smaller than the ebony colored beast in front of me. This panther is unnaturally huge.

"It's a Wakandan panther," I breathe, my eyes widening in shock. How the hell did Kraven manage that? Since making itself known the world, Wakanda is still notorious for being impossible to get into, and their regard for their animals is at a fiercely high level. If Kraven had not only managed to sneak into Wakanda, but to kill and take one of their beloved panthers-

"A Wakandan panther," his voice repeats by my ear, and I jump with fright, a chill shuddering down my spine as I whirl. Kraven looms over me as I stumble pack a few paces, nearly knocking into the big cat's stuffed form. Jesus, I hadn't even heard the man move.

My eyes are huge and round as I take in the sharp angles of his face, his gleaming, beetle black eyes that are eerily similar to the stuffed trophies littered around us, the thick red scars starting at his cheekbone that travel down past his jaw.

Kraven notices where my eyes have wandered. "Do you see what this prize cost me, malen'kiy chelovek? These scars came not from the beast itself, no. From his king. Look at the beast again."

Trembling, I obey.

"Do you see any wounds? Any marks or damage to his fur? His skin?"

I shake my head.

"No. You don't. I do not kill my prey with guns or knives or arrows, the weapons of lesser men. I use these."

I turn back to him, my eyes dropping to his huge outstretched hands, smaller scars littered across his wide, calloused palms. And I have a sudden, horrible image of those palms pressed against my neck, the fingers curling around the base of my skull as they squeeze.

My throat bobs.

"To hunt beasts such as these," Kraven gestures to the plethora of stuffed wildlife around us. "You must understand them. You must become more than a hunter. You must become a predator yourself. And I have. The greatest predator this world has ever seen."

"Then...then hunt the Spiderman," I breathe, trying to regain control of this conversation.

"This isn't a hunt," Kraven growls, looming over me, those huge hands curling into fists. "This is mercenary work. Blood money. There is no honor in it. No grand prize."

"The money-"

"I told you," he seethes. "Your employer's money is filthy. Dishonorable. I do not want it. You have insulted me enough."

For a brief, nauseating moment, I think that Kraven is about to kill me. I flinch as he moves and throw my arms up wildly in a feeble attempt to protect myself. The large man snorts with disgust.

"Pathetic," Kraven turns away from me, heading back to his desk, his boots heavy as they hit the floor. "I live by a code of honor. You and your employer have none, and as such, I have no interest in dealing with you. Get out."

Panting, sweating, I watch in dismay as he walks away. If I go back to Gargan without having secured this deal…

I'm not above begging, however humiliating it will be. Brutal as Kraven is, he does have honor. He won't kill a guest in his home. Gargan is an entirely different story. He doesn't believe in honor. He believes in success and failure. And I cannot fail him again.

So I choose my next words very, very carefully.

"The Wakandan panther, it's your crown jewel, isn't it?" I swallow thickly as he ignores me, but I keep going. "It's an incredible beast. Only the greatest hunter, the greatest predator could have taken him down."

Kraven sinks into his chair, shrouded in shadows once again, his black eyes gleaming as they glare at me.

"How long did it take you to hunt it down and kill it?"

A beat of silence, then, "Five days."

I let out a quivering whistle. "An astonishingly short amount of time, for most men. But you aren't like most men. I'm willing to bet the short length of the hunt must have been so...dissatisfying."

He says nothing.

"And yet this beast is your highest trophy. I have no doubt that it was an incredible hunt. But it's over. What's left to hunt in the world that is greater for you? No mere animal, I-I can tell you that. Imagine hunting something with the ability to think, to reason. Something with advanced strength, advanced speed, that can anticipate your every move, that learns and adapts. That maybe even bests you. The most dangerous animal of all," I dare to take a step closer to him, heart racing. "The ultimate hunt. The ultimate prize. The hunt to beat all other hunts."

Kraven stares at me wordlessly for a long moment, then turns his head.

Dismissed.

My stomach sinks. I don't dare press him further. I've failed, and now...and now…

I turn, walking shakily past the throng of dead animals littering the study, their eyes mocking me.

"I will hunt your Spiderman."

I stiffen, then whirl, hope leaping in my chest. "You-you will? You won't regret it, Kraven, I can assure you of that. My employer will make sure you are compensated beyond your wildest-"

"I told you I do not want your filthy blood money," Kraven growls. "I will hunt. His mask will be my prize, his head, my trophy. Now get. out."

I incline my head, then walk out of the room as fast as my wobbly legs will carry me. My breathing comes too quick, my hands are shaking from the encounter, but I am filled with a giddy sort of exhilaration.

I'd done it. I'd convinced him to get rid of Spiderman. I'd done what Gargan had demanded of me. And even better, Kraven is doing it for free.

Gargan will be pleased.

I will live to see another day.

And Spiderman won't know what hit him.

A/N:

Welcome back, faithful readers!

Ready to start another wild ride with me? It's still So weird to think that this is actually book FOUR in my series. And we aren't even half way done. It's insane. The amount of reviews and support and attention Riders in the Sky got seriously BLEW MY MIND. You guys really know how to make a writer feel appreciated. Without you, this all wouldn't be possible. So a very heartfelt thank you!

I saw that you guys enjoyed my little end credits scene for Riders. I had an absolute blast writing the Guardians of the Galaxy for the first time. They will not be making an appearance in this book, but don't worry, the Guardians will return in the CMFU eventually. As will some other Avengers I have not included quite yet.

As for this fic, several things. This takes place very shortly after the end of Riders, with the Avengers' return to Earth, Pepper and Tony's upcoming wedding, and the scars/aftermath of the Dravec abduction. I'm scaling this one back down to focus on a handful of main characters instead of the massive cast I was working with for Riders. Which I am really excited about.

I know a lot of you were like, wait, what? This fic is called Hunted? Weren't they JUST hunted in Riders in the Sky?

Yes. Yes they were.

Several of you guessed Kraven would make an appearance, and you were right! Poor Peter Parker isn't quite done being hunted yet, but Kraven is in for the surprise of his life if he thinks Spiderman is going to make it easy for him. Since the MCU likes to take the classic Marvel characters and spin them to fit in a more realistic, edgy world, I will be doing the same, and writing my own take on Kraven, how I imagine the Marvel writers might handle such a character.

ALSO! This fic is dedicated to PippinStrange! This is her nearly one year late belated birthday fic! Sorry it took so long to get here, friend! But this one is for you! As such, some of her requests have worked their way into the plot, and I can't wait to share them with you guys. Pip, your writing blows my mind. I may be the Queen of Crystallopia (and cliffhangers) , but you are the Queen of Fanfiction. Your Marvel fics are unmatched, and I am in awe of your brilliant, talented mind. Thank you for letting me be your beta, and for doing me the honor of being mine! I love you!

Updates...will not be regular. Sorry, I wish they could be scheduled weekly or biweekly, but since I'm working full time and hardly get any time to write, and I am working on the final draft of my original novel (GUYS I got it back from the editor who LOVED it! SQUEE!), I can't promise prompt or regular updates, but I will do my very best not to make you wait toooooo long between chapters. Some of this book is prewritten, so I hope that will help.

As always, I LOVE hearing from my loyal and fabulous review squad, so let me know your thoughts, and I will reply to them at the end of the next chapter in my author's notes!

*Cracks knuckles*

You guys ready for this?

-Queen