“So, I suppose it goes without saying that what we’re doing right now could be construed as dangerous?”
“Yeah, that goes without saying.” Waves of anxious energy pulsed from Jacquelyn, peppering Micah’s nerves like bits of gravel. And the fact that she was indeed frightened wasn’t lost on him, either. “If you can’t do this, Micah, I understand. The main road isn’t far from here, I’m sure you could hitch a ride back to Trish’s.”
“No.” He one hundred percent refused to back down. Finn wasn’t the only Bearer man enough to have Jacquelyn’s back and he wanted her to know it. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”
Close on Jacquelyn’s heels, he followed her out of a stand of blue spruce, the moon illuminating a dry grassy clearing dotted with sage brush. The highway was visible in the distance, an occasional flash of headlights disappearing over the low hills toward a small town. He couldn’t remember the name, but he recalled driving through on his way to McCall. “What would someone be doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” Micah turned a full circle, noting the absence of anything but trees and brush. “I mean, it seems a little far-fetched.”
“Willie Carmichael was out in the middle of nowhere, remember?” She bent low, squatting close to the ground and closed her eyes. “I’m following the sound of the Banshee, and this is where it leads.” Her voice trailed off into silence and she remained still, appearing in meditation and then she whispered, “Come here, Micah.”
Dry grass crunched under his feet, drowning out the sound of crickets in the distance. A gentle breeze washed over his face and he breathed in the scent of sage. “Kneel down,” Jacquelyn’s voice had become monotone, yet soft as the breeze on his cheek. Her burst of fear had subsided, replaced by an equally unsettling calm. Storm’s coming, he thought, taking a knee at her side. But which would be worse, nature’s fury, or the emotional downpour Jacquelyn was sure to unleash?
“Give me your hand.” She still hadn’t moved, not an inch, and her voice reminded him of a fortune teller his mother had taken him to once, who’d claimed to be possessed by the spirit of his grandmother, level and ominous. “I’m going to show you how special you really are.”
He extended his hand, palm up, and she seized his wrist. Her eyes opened, empty green pools under the cover of darkness. Her gaze locked with his, her face unreadable, and she reached behind her back to produce an ancient-looking dagger with a jeweled hilt. Micah’s breath caught in his throat. She exuded no emotion for him to gauge, as if her soul were as empty as her eyes.
A flash of bluish steel blurred across his skin, leaving a two-inch gash in his palm. Blood welled up from the cut, not vibrant red, but dark, the crimson almost black. He shined the flashlight on his palm and the cut flashed bright red, relief flooding him as if he needed confirmation that he was still human, with human-colored blood. He sucked a breath in through his teeth, resisting the urge to pull away and left his hand in hers. “What did you do that for?”
Jacquelyn turned the blade over in his palm, bathing the flat of it in his blood. As she brought it up to the light, he realized that the steel was no longer bluish, but glowing bright orange as if infused with flame. The glow reached her face, the dead sheen of her eyes fading, replaced by a glimmer of dancing light. “Finn would shit a solid gold brick if he could see this.”
She stood, holding the dagger aloft and turned east, her arm like that of a compass. The dagger glowed fiery orange, and then muted yellow. “Getting colder,” she murmured, shifting until the dagger pointed dead south. It morphed from yellow back to orange and darkened to a soft blood red. Jacquelyn turned, pointing west toward the highway. Again the color of the dagger’s blade changed, this time glowing bright blue like a gas flame, the color bursting from the blade in a halo of brilliant light. “Bingo,” she said, taking off at a run. “This way, let’s go!”
Unfamiliar with the terrain, Micah lost his footing more than once. “Shit.” Pain shot up his Achilles as he turned his ankle on a rock. He stumbled several paces before regaining his balance, but he never slowed down. Jacquelyn was at least thirty feet ahead of him and gaining ground. She’d reach the highway in less than sixty seconds and he was still a couple of minutes behind. Jesus, she moved fast. Almost…inhumanly fast. “Hang on!” he shouted after her. “Wait, damn it!”
A silhouette stood out against the dark stretch of highway. The figure, a young girl from the looks of her, moved at a slow walk, her thumb pointing out toward a passing car. But as Micah picked up his pace, ignoring the strain on his lungs, he noticed the thin, shapeless figure of the hitchhiker to be more masculine. Boyish, even.
He’d lost sight of Jacquelyn, damn it. Looking left, then right, he crouched, continuing to run as fast as his bent legs would allow. The boy—maybe fifteen—walked along the highway whistling an eerie tune. Where the hell was Jacquelyn?
“Get down,” her voice seethed out of nowhere. She jerked his arm hard, pulling him to the ground beside a wild apple tree and placed her hand over the white stream of the flashlight. “Be very still. We’re not alone.”
“No shit.” Micah adjusted his position to keep a branch from gouging his side. “There’s a kid over there, walking—”
“Not the kid.” She placed her fingers on his lips to silence him. He tried to focus on the danger and not the fragrance of her skin. But she smelled good, like cherry blossoms or freesia, or— “There,” she said, low. “On the side of the road, crawling out of the ditch toward the kid. Do you see that?”
Micah squinted through the dark, following the path of Jacquelyn’s outstretched finger. Another dark shadow joined the party, lanky and hunched over as it crept over the hump of the irrigation ditch, looking like a creature emerging from the depths of an inky black cavern, sinister and on the hunt. His heart skipped in his chest, reminding him that he was way out of his league. The thing crept along the side of the road, its movements unnatural in the moonlight. Too fast and too slow all at the same time. It lacked fluidity of motion, seeming to jerk in and out of space closer and closer to its prey. A strobe flash in comparison to the kid’s easy gait. “What are we going to do?” he asked.
“You’re not going to do anything.” Jacquelyn stood and stretched her neck from side to side. “Take a deep breath, Micah. I can hear your heartbeat, and if I can, that Goblin out there can, too.”
She could hear his heartbeat? And… “Excuse me? Goblin?”
“Settle down. Stay put. Don’t move until I call for you—got it?” She plunged the dagger back into her waistband and checked the safety on her gun. “Stay here, okay?”
“What about you?” he asked. “I can’t let you go after that thing alone.”
Her smile, in the cover of night, appeared predatory, confident. “Just another day at the office.”
Before he could object again, she leapt from their hiding spot. Gun drawn, she crept along the opposite side of the highway, and Micah wondered if the stupid hitchhiker knew he was being stalked. She moved deftly, despite the low visibility, her petite form negotiating the terrain as if the noon sun were shining. It took a good fifteen seconds for Jacquelyn to catch up with the kid who’d turned, walking backward as he waited to flash his thumb at a car a couple hundred yards away. Across the highway, the Goblin—was he seriously seeing this?—approached its prey, the jerky movements of its body causing Micah’s stomach to churn.
The car’s headlights cleaved the dark, driving right through the middle of the action. Taking the distraction of the vehicle’s passing as a cue, the Goblin leapt at the exact same moment Jacquelyn jumped the ditch bordering the highway, landing on the asphalt a few feet from the startled kid.
There was no stopping the rhythm of his heart as Micah watched Jacquelyn circle the kid in time with the Goblin. They were three black paper cutouts, moving like an evil midnight puppet show. Hunched over on all fours, the Goblin crawled like a cat about to pounce, back arched, and Jacquelyn’s gun, trained on his movement didn’t falter, not even o
nce.
Slowly, Micah crept out from behind the apple tree. Stay put. Her words echoed in his mind. But how in the hell could he hide while she risked her life? Would Finn stay put and hide? Somehow, he didn’t think so. Heart hammering against his ribcage, Micah army crawled closer to the action, brush and spindly branches catching on his clothes and clawing at his face. The night had become deathly silent and, if not for the muted shuffle of footsteps against pavement, he would have thought for sure he’d gone deaf.
“Leave the kid alone and maybe I’ll let you live.” Jacquelyn’s voice barely carried to his ears, as if she’d spoken inside a sound-proof booth. “I’m in a piss-poor mood tonight. You don’t want to try my patience and you don’t have much time to make a decision. You can try to take this kid. But the only meal you’re going to have tonight is a mouthful of silver. Understand?”
Micah’s elbow connected with a large rock and he winced. His arm tingled right down to his fingertips, and he shook it out as best he could, coming to his feet at the side of the highway. A shallow ditch was all that separated him from Jacquelyn, a slack-jawed kid, and something he wouldn’t believe if he wasn’t seeing it with his own eyes.
The Goblin wasn’t large. Smaller than Jacquelyn and lighter by about twenty pounds, it looked like it didn’t have enough meat on its bones to keep it upright. Scraps of ragged cloth hung from its frame, and large, liquid black eyes darted from the kid and back to Jacquelyn, a long, scaled tongue darting out to lick its too thin lips. The damned thing literally popped out of thin air and reappeared where it would have ended up by simply taking a step. Leading with her gun, Jacquelyn’s movement mirrored the creature’s. It apparently didn’t realize it was out-matched.
“You have bigger problems than me, hunter. Better be careful lest your fury get the best of you.” The Goblin’s voice was surprisingly pleasant considering its appearance. “Why don’t you run along and leave me with my treat?”
Micah couldn’t understand why the stupid kid just stood there between Jacquelyn and the Goblin. If it had been him, he’d have been a mile down the highway already. But the kid hadn’t moved an inch, and his arms hung limp at his sides, his expression—blank. He’d never seen anyone actually bespelled, but that’s exactly how this kid looked. Incapable of thought or movement and totally unaware of the danger, the long-haired youth kept his feet planted like a bone in the middle of a dog fight. Micah focused as he tried to concentrate his energy and read the kid’s feelings which he found to be just as blank as his expression. Yeah, this hapless hitchhiker was definitely under the influence of something.
The Goblin continued to circle his meal like a buzzard while Jacquelyn kept her gun one pace ahead of its carefully placed steps. In a surprise movement, the beast lunged toward her and Micah’s heart jumped into his throat.
“Hmmm…” the Goblin said, retreating. “You’re not alone, are you, hunter?” The Goblin cackled, an ugly, grating sound that offended Micah’s ears. “I hear the pitter-pat of an empath nearby. Did you bring dessert?”
He couldn’t tell in the dark, but he just knew that Jacquelyn rolled her eyes in response. Maybe he should’ve stayed put, or at the very least, tried to control his racing pulse. What now? Cat’s out of the bag, might as well join in—right? Right.
“Don’t move.” Micah crossed the ditch with the .357 held out in front of him. He prayed his hands weren’t visibly shaking because it felt like they were positively quaking. “Get away from the kid, or I’ll help this hunter put you down.”
He’d never held anyone off at gunpoint before, and besides the fear, he felt an exhilarating rush. This was the excitement his life had been missing. Visions, freaky powers or not, this kid needed help and he wasn’t going to sit by and do nothing. Jacquelyn needed backup, and he wanted to be there as more than a healer and sensory lightning rod.
“You’d better listen to my partner.” Jacquelyn’s voice exuded the confidence Micah wished he had. “He’s killed more of your kind than I have. He’ll take you out before you can blink one ugly eye.”
A corner of her mouth quirked in the darkness, and Micah drew on her confidence. Not enough to make her feel violated—he refused to do that—but just enough to slow his rapid breathing. “Listen to her, Goblin. You don’t want to fuck with me.”
Jacquelyn turned her head, a fraction of an inch and raised her brow in question. A smile tugged at her lips and Micah shrugged in response, a barely discernible movement. He straightened his arm, holding the gun level with the Goblin’s pasty-yellow face. “Your decision,” she said. “Take it or leave it.”
The Goblin tilted his head to the side as it studied the pair of them. Pointed teeth gleamed from the mouth of evil, its expression calculating, knowing. Micah looked at the kid, vacant face and empty eyes, staring down the highway wistfully. But Jacquelyn looked past the Goblin’s victim, her attention focused solely on the danger. Would the poor kid even remember any of this had happened? And what the fuck was a teenager doing walking down the highway at midnight? Where were his parents? Focus, Micah. Vicious killer Goblin first, neglected teen later. Jacquelyn stood tense, the weight of her gun obviously having no effect on her stamina. She looked like she could stand there all night with the heavy metal leveled at the Goblin’s face.
A strange stand-off, the three of them stood in a triangle, watching and waiting. The Goblin broke ranks first, cocking a hip and glancing at the kid with a look of disinterest. It turned to saunter away and Micah relaxed, lowering the .357 to his side. But rather than leave, the Goblin feinted, leaping over the dazed hitchhiker, and before he could react, Micah was thrown to the asphalt, his head cracking against the gravel as the Goblin took him down.
Sharp, talon-like nails bit deep into his shoulder, and Micah clenched his teeth against the searing pain. He tried to land a punch to the Goblin’s face, but it was too quick for him and pinned his free arm at his side. A keening in the distance raised the hackles on Micah’s neck at the realization that the Banshee had cried out once again and apparently she’d called out to him. The Goblin straightened, baring its jagged teeth, poised to rip out Micah’s throat. Damn if the thing wasn’t strong. Its size belied its power, and it trapped him with ease, a steel vise of strength that had him pinned to the lonely highway.
A crack resounded but didn’t echo in the strange containment of sound. The goblin’s face, frozen in surprise, stared down at Micah. Its black, fathomless eyes rolled back in its drawn and sallow head before it crumpled to the ground. Micah rose up on an elbow, running a hand along his lacerated scalp. Something warm and sticky coated his fingers. Great. Blood. He shook off any concern, head wounds bleed a lot, and he knew it wasn’t serious. The familiar sounds of night rushed to his ears: crickets, the croaking chorus of myriad frogs, and the far off rumble of traffic. “Jacquelyn,” he murmured, unable to push out more than the one word.
“Don’t. Move.” Her gait was cautious as she approached, one foot precisely placed over the other in a sideways step. Drawing the dagger from her waistband, she rolled the handle around in her hand once before driving the point deep into the goblin’s heart. It lurched, back arched and arms stiff. Micah rolled away and as Jacquelyn pulled the blade from the goblin’s flesh, the body began to disintegrate, filling the air with the putrid stench of rotting flesh.
Through the haze of darkness and a blinding headache, he noticed Jacquelyn pull a cell phone from her pocket. She hit a button and waited, still not acknowledging either him or the kid still standing on the highway. “Trish.” She scuffed her booted foot against the asphalt. “Can you meet me out on the highway straight west from your place? I’ve got a kid here who’s going to need a ride. I’m pretty sure he was headed toward New Meadows.” She paused. “He’s here. A little banged up but he’ll live. See you in a few.”
Lowering the phone, Jacquelyn turned and walked over to Micah with her hand outstretched. “I’ll give it to you, Micah. You go balls out, don’t you?”
He studied
her face, a blank page that refused to divulge her feelings. But a strange sensation of warm admiration crept up through his chest and he smiled. At least she wasn’t pissed. “I didn’t want you to think yours were bigger than mine. How’d I do?”
“Not bad.” He took her hand and she pulled him up, wobbling a little before she steadied him. Damn it, maybe he’d hit his head harder than he thought. “But until we get you good and trained, please stay put.”
“Did Finn stay put when you told him to?” he asked, dusting bits of gravel from his pants.
The amused smile on her face was all the answer he needed.
Chapter 14
THE KID STARED over Trish’s head, eyeing Jacquelyn warily, as though she was the predator. To be fair, he had little recollection of his encounter with the Goblin, and she still had her Glock drawn. You know, just in case the Goblin had a buddy hiding in the ditch somewhere. Trish took the reins, using her Bearer’s tricks to calm him down enough that he could tell her he’d been hitching to New Meadows from McCall after his car broke down several miles back. Jacquelyn often wished she were the motherly type, the one people opened up to. But having a gun pointed near his face probably did little to endear the kid to her.
“Let’s get Micah home and then I’ll take this young man into town,” Trish said, helping the still discombobulated kid into the backseat of the truck.
Fine by me. The fact that the dazed teen needed help Jacquelyn couldn’t give him was a sore reminder that the only thing she was good at was killing. Plain and simple. And wasn’t that just awesome? What kind of mom would she ever be with her skill set and personality? “Hey Mom, did you make cookies?” her son would ask, friends in tow. “No, kiddo, I didn’t. But if you guys will stop your whining for a few seconds, I’ll teach you how to adjust your aim when your clip’s loaded with silver instead of steel.” Nice. I’ll win Future Mother of the Year for sure!
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