Unbound

by Лори Девоти

  She inhaled, thought of Risk, and prepared to fight. Her elbows bent almost of their own accord as energy thrummed into her.

  “Aw, no. You oughtn’t to do that.” Blue flared again. Heat seared the side of her face, and the smell of her own hair singing burned her nose.

  She wasn’t ready. She could feel it. She needed more time, just a second or two.

  No time to think. Screwing her eyes tight against the threatening blue light, she willed all the energy she’d stored down through her arms and out her raised hands.

  The man behind her yelped. Jumping sideways, he dragged the knife from her neck to her shoulder as he moved. The stunner snapped and burned a path through her hair. Then Kara was free.

  But she couldn’t run. Couldn’t do anything except stand there panting as if she’d finished a marathon in record time. Her assailant crouched a few feet away, his knife clutched in his fist and his stunner on the ground by his feet.

  With narrowed eyes, he picked up the weapon. “Can’t be easy. Can it? God forbid I made an easy score now and again.” He rolled a switch on the side of the thing and held it out toward her. “Now see this is going to hurt.” Shaking his head, he scrambled to his feet and limped toward her.

  Kara stood there, her breathing slower, but her power drained. She didn’t know how she knew her resources were empty, but she did. She might as well be holding off a grizzly with an unloaded revolver.

  Lusse tilted her face to the falling snow, the tiny flakes catching on her silver lashes, and tumbling onto her cheeks where they lay unmoved.

  Risk fisted his hand around the bloody bandage. He didn’t have time to be playing games with Lusse. His son was safe for a while at least, but Kara was alone back in the human world where some thief was hunting witches. And he had new things to consider, like Lusse’s promise of a gift of the other hounds and her information on the garms.

  “How many portals do you think there are?” he asked.

  Blinking, she lowered her face to look at him. “How many? I don’t know. The gods and the garm are very hush-hush about all that.”

  “So how does someone know to go to a portal in the first place?”

  Air exploded from her mouth. “They just know.”

  Her toe tapped against the path. “Perhaps it’s time for you to get back.”

  Risk couldn’t agree more. With a nod, he took a small step backward and shimmered away.

  Kara staggered backward, stumbling over a cement barrier and falling onto her butt. The man limped toward her, the blue flame of his stunner barely visible against the early afternoon sky.

  She groped behind her, coming up with nothing more than a handful of snow. Desperate, she threw it at him. Hissing, it struck the flame and evaporated into steam.

  “Now that’s not gonna help any.” He bent down, his knee pressed into her chest, one hand wrapped around her neck. “If you hold still, I’ll zap you in the arm. They say it don’t hurt as bad there.”

  Kara flailed upward, her closed fist making contact with the side of his head.

  “Shit. That hurt. I’m gonna have to quit being nice to you.” A wild glint in his eyes, he pulled back the hand holding the stunner.

  The flame sped toward Kara’s face. She reached up her hand to block it. Her arm collided with his seconds before a loud roar shook the ground beneath them.

  The man on top of her fell off, his eyes wide and his face slack. “I wasn’t hurting her. You tell him, witch. I wasn’t going to hurt you, was I?”

  Rubbing her arm, Kara scooted her body back, away from her crazed attacker.

  “I’m not looking for trouble. Just stopped by for a drink. That’s all,” the man blathered, his eyes fixed on someone or something to her side, out of her vision.

  A growl rumbled toward her. The hairs on her arm shooting up at the sound.

  It couldn’t be. Not again. Not the dogs.

  Risk saw the man leaning over Kara as soon as he ma terialized onto the Guardian’s Keep parking lot. She strug gled as the man moved closer, then jerked again as what looked to be a weapon flared next to her skin.

  Rage poured through Risk.

  Without pause, he released the iron controls he kept on his hellhound nature — stretched his neck and curled his fingers toward his palms. It took only seconds for the magic that was a part of him to complete his change.

  His clothing fell to the ground. Silver hair hung over his eyes. Snarling, he shook it away. His eyes darted, seeing twice in this form as in his weaker human shape.

  The pavement was wet and cool beneath his pads. He flexed his broad feet. His muscles ached to run, he ached to run, to feel the air blowing through his fur, to see the blur of cars, houses, trees as he raced after prey. He held his nose to the breeze. Cocked his ears, letting in sound in audible to both humans and mundane dogs.

  His prey was here. He could smell him. Hear him.

  He turned his massive head toward the scent of desperation and sounds of struggle.

  Kara threw up her arm trying to defend herself. Risk didn’t have to see or smell her fear, he could feel it. His muscles tightened, his lips curling away from his teeth.

  The man muttered something, then, his glowing weapon gripped in his fist, slashed down toward Kara’s wide eyes.

  Risk roared, his anger filling him with heat.

  Hunt. Kill. Destroy.

  He leaped across the parking lot.

  The massive animal stood six feet away, its paws braced apart, its head lowered, lips pulled back revealing shining canines. His glowing eyes were fixed on the man now crab-walking away from her, the stunner still gripped in her attacker’s hand sizzling and popping as he dragged it through the snow.

  “She didn’t tell me, she belonged to no forandre. Bad enough I got to deal with the garm and that other. I wouldn’t be poaching on no hellhound’s territory.”

  The man was talking to the dog as if it could understand him. Kara pushed herself backward until her body collided with the side of the Guardian’s Keep. The dog seemed focused on the man. Could she escape — run for it? Leave the nasty little man to fend for himself?

  She pressed her fingers to her closed eyelids. God help her. It was tempting. She wasn’t sure what the man had planned for her, but she knew it hadn’t been good.

  The stunner spit and steamed as it knocked against a hunk of ice dropped some point in the past from under a bar patron’s car.

  That thing was wicked. She owed the vile man nothing.

  Curling her feet up under her body, she balanced on the balls of her feet and waited for an opening.

  The dog took a step forward, his head swinging toward the man. His mouth opened to release a howl that sent chills racing down her spine.

  She bit her lip until she tasted blood.

  Death. That was the sound of death, and not a pretty one.

  Damn her for her weakness, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave. Sensing she had only as long as it took the dog to complete his glass-breaking call to make her choice, she raised shaking hands and held them, palms out, toward the dog.

  Power. She needed power. Again she concentrated on feeling strong, in control.

  Heat tickled her palms, then crept up her arms. Strong, she was strong. In a surge, the energy exploded into the rest of her body, filling every molecule. She breathed power, opened her eyes and could see power.

  The dog was surrounded by red bands of undulating energy that grew darker and more angry as his howl continued. The man, his legs curled into his chest, emitted nothing more than a light yellow haze.

  What had Risk said about witches? They pulled power from those around them? Was she pulling power from the dog that she now was going to use against him?

  Her hands outstretched, she swallowed hard. She could do it. She could kill this dog, steal its life as easily as that other dog had stolen Jessie’s. Send it to hell.

  Eyes trained on the baying beast in front of her, she breathed in, then released all the pow
er waiting inside her.

  11

  Risk lowered his head, his death call complete. His prey was curled into himself, not even bothering to run. The hound in Risk mourned such an easy kill.

  Run, Risk urged his prey, using the telepathy only available to him in his hound form.

  The man’s gaze shot to Risk, then behind him. A glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes.

  Risk turned, suddenly realizing the shift in the air. Energy was draining from around him, streaming toward the building behind him — to a lone figure crouched at its base.

  Kara.

  Before he could form another thought, two parallel streams of blue fire shot toward him. He dropped, the energy crackling as it passed over his body.

  Kara had attacked him.

  For a second his mind spun. Had he been right when he saw her collapsed inside that circle? Had she been trying to trap him then? To kill or capture him now?

  No, even with his mind clouded by his beastly form, he knew that wasn’t true. Realized she had no idea he and the dog she feared were one.

  The line of fire over him died. Next to the building, Kara teetered to her feet. She was breathing hard, her knees and arms shaking. Bracketing her body against the bar building, she closed her eyes.

  What was she doing? Risk pushed himself to his feet, preparing to go to her. Then he heard it, the whoosh of energy being sucked from around him, from him.

  She was stealing his power — to use against him. It shouldn’t surprise him. It was what he had told Venge Lusse did — and it was, but Lusse was more like a sponge sopping up the excess. To suction power the way Kara was attempting took ritual and concentration even Lusse couldn’t manage with no preparation or tools.

  And it ended with only one outcome — death for the target and power lust for the initiator.

  Power was surging into Kara. Stronger this time, quicker. Her heart pounded, her body pulsed as if she were at a rock concert, the bass driving against her over and over.

  She flipped her eyelids open, watched the red energy flow over the parking lot, welcomed it with her arms held wide.

  What she could do with such power. Find Kelly. Save herself. Never be afraid — make others afraid instead.

  No, some tiny part of her objected. Not that. That wasn’t what she wanted.

  Another wave of energy rippled into her. She closed her eyes savoring the warmth, letting herself soar.

  Heady. She could get lost in this feeling, addicted. Exist on nothing but power.

  “Kara,” Risk’s voice snapped inside her head. “Kara. Break the connection. Stop the pull. You can’t handle it — it’s too much. You won’t survive.”

  Kara frowned. Risk. What was he doing here, trying to stop her fun?

  She needed to feel strong. Deserved to feel strong.

  Another current pulsed against her. She arched her back, opening her chest, letting the power pour into her.

  Too much? It would never be too much. She would drain the dog, the man, then anything that even hinted of magic.

  She would drain the world.

  “Kara,” the voice was more urgent now. “Kara you have to stop. You’ll kill yourself, and kill me. Who will save Kelly then?”

  Kill Risk? She wouldn’t kill Risk or herself. She blinked; his words made no sense. And where was he? Her view blurry, she looked around the parking lot — nothing but the dog and the man. No Risk.

  “Kara, look at me,” the voice said again.

  She tilted her head — the man? Was he playing a trick on her? No, as she stared at him, her attacker flipped to his knees, then with one backward glace, broke into a run, leaving his knife and stunner behind.

  He escaped. Damn him — taking his power with him, measly though it was, it was her power now. She narrowed her eyes, her arms shooting out in front of her. She would stop him. Teach him not to take what was hers.

  “Kara.” It was a yell now, and so loud, Kara jerked in response. “Look at me. Look at what is happening to you.”

  Kara turned her head, scanning the lot, her gaze finally falling on the dog. He looked weaker now, his head hanging lower, his tail drooping between his legs.

  “Kara, look at me.”

  The dog. The voice was coming from the dog — no, her head. The voice was in her head, but the dog was responsible.

  “Risk?” she murmured, her hands falling an inch.

  “Kara.” He was tired. She could hear it. Feel it.

  “What happened? What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “The power. Let it go, Kara. You can’t handle it.”

  She stood there, the power whipping around her, through her. Her hands trembling with her desire for more.

  “It will destroy you. Make you want nothing but more.”

  More. She did want more.

  She stared down at her hands, turned her palms toward her, unintentionally breaking the connection.

  A groan sounded from across the pavement. She looked up and saw Risk, naked, crumpled onto the snow.

  Dear God. What had she done?

  She ran to him, sliding and falling along the way, but picking herself up and continuing until she collapsed by his side.

  She pressed her hands to his bare chest, felt the movement of breaths and the reassuring warmth of his body.

  He sighed, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing along her cheek. “Blue. Your eyes are still blue.”

  Then he took her hand in his, pressed his lips to her palm and everything around her began to shimmer and shift.

  Kara’s living room flickered around her, as if she were caught inside a TV with choppy reception. Then with a low soothing hum, the world smoothed and she found herself on the singed rug in front of her fireplace and draped across Risk’s naked body.

  She placed her palm over the hole where the ember had fallen just hours earlier. The wool pile was rough and crunchy, the fist-sized spot of wood floor exposed beneath it cool to her touch.

  “Risk?” She blinked, her head fuzzy from the influx of power and her strange trip home.

  He slid his hand up her arm. “You’re okay,” he murmured.

  She nodded and sat up. “What happened? How’d we get here? The man, the dog, then you? I was pulling in power, and it felt good.” A shiver raced over her. “Too good.”

  “Dangerous,” he said, his eyes tired.

  “But…?” She didn’t know what to ask first…where to even begin.

  “You first. Tell me why you were at the Guardian’s Keep, everything that happened there.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked. He hadn’t moved more than his arm since they…she glanced around the room…arrived back at her house.

  “Just a little drained.” A mocking smile tilted his lips. Then he brushed a lock of hair back from her face. “I’m fine. You talk.”

  Kara hesitated, not convinced he was okay and unsure where to start with her own adventures.

  He squeezed her hand and gave her a nod.

  Still not convinced he was all right, she took a deep breath and began talking. “After you left, I went to the bar.” She edged a look at him. He had told her to wait.

  He frowned.

  “I talked to the bartender. He was…difficult. And weird, well, not him so much as what happened there.” She told Risk about following the bartender through the doorway and finding herself back where she’d started. “Then I tried again and this time I was outside the bar.”

  Interest flashed through his eyes.

  Kara rushed on, the reality of what she was describing unsettling her. “And then this nasty little man attacked me, snuck up on me somehow. He had a knife and this other thing. He called it a stunner. Then the dog came, and I was pulling the power, and then—” She stopped abruptly not sure what else to say.

  Risk pushed himself onto one elbow. “What about the bartender, did he say anything?”

  “To go home. Then some gobbledygook about telling my hellhound the guardian said to keep me a
way. Oh, and he said bull-headed little witches had a habit of disappearing around there.” Kara knew she was speaking too fast. She snapped her mouth shut, stared at Risk for a second, then continued more slowly. “That bar has something to do with Kelly and her friend, I know it.” Relieved she had gotten the story out, she folded her hands in her lap.

  “He called himself the guardian?” Now sitting upright, knees bent, Risk leaned forward, his eyes intense.

  “Yeah, Guardian’s Keep, the guardian. I guess that’s what he was talking about.” Her gaze wandered over Risk’s bare chest and arms. The late afternoon light leaking through the front window caught in the silver hairs on his forearms.

  Lost in thought, he rested his arm on his knee.

  He was so comfortable in his nudity, almost as if he noticed no difference from being fully clothed.

  His thigh brushed against Kara’s arm. Her anxiety melted as heat pooled in her core.

  “I need to go.” He stood.

  “Wait.” Kara pressed her hand to his shoulder. He couldn’t leave yet.

  He stared at her, waiting.

  “Uh, what about the dog?” She threw out the first question she could latch on to. “Do you think that’s the hellhound the bartender mentioned? Have you ever heard of a hellhound?”

  His eyes went from alert to guarded. “Hellhounds were used by the gods to hunt souls of the evil. Until the wild hunt was deserted, that is.”

  “The evil? But I’m not evil.” The word hit her in the chest, memories of the power flooding into her and the thoughts of leaving her attacker to face the dog alone, of killing him and the dog. “Am I?” she added, her voice quiet.

  “No.” He tilted her face to his, brushed hair away from her eyes. “You are not evil.”

  “Then why—”

  “Hounds used to run in the wild hunt, but that was a thousand years ago. Now they…they exist however they can.”

  “So?” Kara was completely lost.

  “So, you aren’t evil.” He wove his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp.