The Dryad raised a tawny brow, her mouth puckered. “Clever Bearer,” she said. “I’m here to protect what’s mine. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Micah stepped from behind Jacquelyn, sure now he could hold his own. All it took was focused self-awareness and he found her influence easy to stave off. He smirked, just a little smug at the accomplishment. “And you think we’re that threat?”
She graced him with a wry, seductive smile and Micah felt an invisible wave push against him. But he pushed right back and soon her grin faded, her mouth turning downward in disappointment. “Don’t get a swollen head, Micah,” she said with a sweet cajoling laugh. “If the moon were full, you’d be licking morsels of affection from my palm. But, to answer your question, yes. I consider you a threat, or at the very least, an accomplice to threat.”
A distinct click echoed in front of him as Jacquelyn pulled back the hammer on the .357. Micah placed his hand on her arm, applying an almost indiscernible amount of pressure to encourage her to lower the weapon. Blowing the Dryad’s brains out might have been Jacquelyn’s solution to their predicament, but Micah wasn’t ready to throw in the towel, yet. “Why don’t you tell us what you’re trying to protect and we’ll tell you whether or not we’re involved in threatening it.”
“Trees,” Jacquelyn answered instead. “She’s protecting the forest. Dryads are the guardians of the forest.”
Micah looked to the Dryad who nodded her head. “Okay, well, I think I can safely say that we’re no threat to you.”
“He’s such a pretty thing.” The Dryad sighed, casting a sidelong glance at Jacquelyn. “I wonder how you get anything done with him around.” She walked a circle around them, her gait lazy and graceful like a feline on the prowl. “I’d like to see him naked, lying on a bed of moss.”
Micah flushed, another sensual pulse sending him back a step. Focus, buddy. Dangerous, not sexy. Not. Sexy. Micah rose on his tiptoes and expelled a gust of breath. “Like I said, we’re no threat to the forest, so I don’t think you need to stick around.”
A blast of wind hit Micah full in the face and he shielded his eyes as bits of grass and little broken branches peppered his body. The Dryad let out an angry whimpering sound and as the wind died down, she raked her long fingers through her hair, pulling at the strands. “You have allowed Furies into my forest!” she screamed. “And they are destruction incarnate! Because you have failed,” she jabbed an accusing finger at Jacquelyn, “I must stay here.”
Jacquelyn took a threatening step forward and Micah grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her back. A fight wasn’t going to solve anything and he had a feeling that a one on one, hand to hand, would not end well for the feisty hunter. “Whoa,” he said. “Hang on, Jacquelyn.” She shot him a death-ray glare that he chose to ignore. She wasn’t the only badass on the block. “Listen.” He pulled Jacquelyn aside and took a step closer to the Dryad. “No one has allowed anything anywhere. We’re just as concerned as you are about these Furies, and we’re trying to get rid of them as we speak. We just need a little time. Even you have to admit they’re not so easy to track.”
“It’s her job to see them gone,” the Dryad argued. “And she’s yet to do it. I refuse to leave these woods until the Furies’ wrath is extinguished. Once their host has served its purpose, it will become a vessel of destruction, and my beautiful trees and all that live here with them will be at risk.”
Okay, now they were getting somewhere. Negotiations. “I think we can live with that,” Micah said. “On one condition.”
The Dryad laughed, and Micah suppressed a moan. If the Furies were destruction incarnate, then this woman was one hundred percent sex. “I don’t bargain with hunters and their pets.” Her eyes darted to Jacquelyn. “But—since you are so mouthwatering, I’ll consider your condition.”
“All we want is for you to behave while you’re here,” Micah said. “We have our hands full already, and don’t need another headache. If you can’t uphold your end of the bargain,” he jerked his chin toward Jacquelyn, “then I doubt I’ll be able to dissuade her from blowing your head right off.”
The Dryad tilted her head to one side in contemplation. “Agreed. But I have a condition of my own. If I, behave, and defer to your hunter to do her job, I’d like to see you again before I leave.”
“Go to hell.” Jacquelyn lunged forward as if she was prepared to scratch the Dryad’s eyes right out. “If you think for one second—”
“Agreed,” Micah said. “I’ll come back here, after we’ve dealt with the Furies. But only to make sure you really leave.”
“Of course.” The Dryad paced another circle around him and Micah felt the weight of her eyes on him. “You have a bargain, Bearer. I look forward to seeing you again.”
A halo of white sparks burst from the Dryad’s body and she once again became the shimmering ball of light. As she drifted through the stand of trees, she hovered for a brief moment before disappearing into the night.
“Oh, hell.” Jacquelyn groaned and shoved the gun in her waistband. “Get back to the truck, Micah. Fuck my life.”
For someone with such short legs, she could sure move fast. Micah tripped over a rock, nearly impaling himself on an old branch. What had her so fired up? “Wait up!” Micah shouted. The moon was fully hidden by trees and no longer illuminated the path. “Jacquelyn!”
He stumbled up onto the road, chasing her across the highway. She reached the Dodge and spun around to face him. “You idiot!” She shoved at his chest but Micah held his ground. “Do you realize what you’ve just done?”
“I thought I’d diffused what could have been a bad situation,” Micah said. Why was she all bent out of shape?
“They’re all bad situations!” Jacquelyn seemed to be in quite a huff as she climbed up into the truck. She slammed the door in Micah’s face and the engine roared to life.
He walked a little too slow, around the front of Trish’s Dodge, hoping the extra few seconds would cool her down. He’d never understand women, especially this one. Hadn’t she just spent the night with her ex? Why worry about him? He was just extra baggage at this point.
“Would you mind explaining why you’re so bent out of shape all of a sudden?” He shut the door and Jacquelyn pulled out onto the highway, tires screeching, before he could even buckle his seatbelt. Right now, with the way she was driving, she was more dangerous than any Dryad.
“They don’t have consciences, Micah. They’re all the same. They don’t do right and wrong, good or bad. They simply are. And they’re slaves to their natures. Do you think if you meet up with her again that she’ll just shake your hand and let you go? No. She won’t. She wants you, Micah. Badly. And you just handed yourself over to her, might as well have a goddamned bow tied around your neck.”
At least she didn’t mince words. But her concern seemed a little out of place. Not that he didn’t like it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I’m not stupid, you know.” Despite his inexperience with the supernatural world, Micah could take care of himself. He didn’t need Jacquelyn throwing herself in front of him all the time. “I know she’s no innocent kitten. But it got her out of our hair, and if she keeps her word, it’ll keep her out of trouble, too. You keep talking about a partnership. Well, partnerships aren’t a one-way street. If we’re going to work together you have to trust me, too. And I’m telling you, negotiating with her was our best option.”
Jacquelyn gave a derisive snort. “A few years ago, a logging company bought two-hundred acres not far from here. Some of the guys clear-cutting the property went missing, others went crazy. The equipment malfunctioned and the state cops found one of their forklifts forty miles away in a dry creek bed. They blamed it on an extremist environmental group.”
“It was her?” Micah asked.
“Maybe. One of her kind, for sure. They’re just as deadly as any Fury, Micah. You can’t ever let your guard down. And what did you do? You struck a bargain with her. You have to hold your end up as long as she holds hers. You
know that, right? If you go back on your word, she’ll find you, and kill you—nice and slow. You can’t trust her. She made a promise to leave, sure, but there’s always a loophole. And supernatural creatures sure as hell know how to use them.”
Micah assumed that Jacquelyn’s prejudice toward the supernatural creatures was ingrained through years and years of conditioning. He didn’t have that conditioning. He wasn’t so ignorant as to not be wary, but he also had to trust his own intuition that if the forest was kept safe, the Dryad would keep her word. What was done was done, and he wasn’t going to worry about it now. “Understood, and duly noted,” he said. “I won’t do anything like that again without consulting you first. But for the record, I think what I did was the right course of action.”
“Damn right you’ll consult me first.” Jacquelyn pointedly ignored the second half of his statement as she slowed and turned the truck on to Whitney Ranch Road. “I’m done worrying for the night. I’m tired. I’m going to park this truck, I’m going to crash on Trish’s couch, and none of you better wake me up before I’m ready.”
Micah opened his mouth but thought better of sharing any further conversation. He’d pushed her buttons enough for one day, and she deserved a night of peaceful sleep. But the thought of drifting off reminded him of his dream, and her screams of terror. Those screams had been reason enough to take a mouthful of pills. And he didn’t think he’d ever have a good night’s sleep again.
Chapter 25
HE WATCHED HIS prey with an almost perverse interest. I’m better looking than he is, he thought. Especially now that I’m so much stronger. It would be an easy thing to let vengeance take the lead, but this time was different. Special. He was going to take his time with this one, really enjoy himself. The first kill, he barely remembered. The second kill—so much easier—he’d actually been a curious participant. Now, though, now he’d take the lead and let them watch. This death meant so much more than the others.
The previous morning had been his breaking point. He’d watched Finn slink out of her house as the sun was rising, leaving her alone like some sort of booty call. She was worth more than a one-night stand. His blood boiled at the thought of Finn lying naked with her, touching, caressing, tasting. Pulling back with a clenched fist, he let it fly, cracking the boulder he hid behind down the center. Stronger than I could ever imagine. He traced the fissure in the granite noticing the blood on his knuckles. He brought his hand to his lips and licked the blood dripping from the cuts, savoring the salty, copper taste.
Finn paced the confines of his small porch, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. Who could he be talking to? Her? An angry growl erupted in his chest. Better not be her. Moving closer, quiet as a snake, he slithered through the grass. His hearing had become keener since he’d met his beauties. Another gift. He had to be sure he wasn’t talking to her, begging for forgiveness he didn’t deserve.
“Trish,” Finn said. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. My head isn’t screwed on tight or something. I can’t even think straight. She’s got me all tied up in knots.” He paused, listening. “Maybe it’s Micah. I haven’t been the same since he came to town. Can’t you get rid of him? Find another territory to ship him off to? You know there can’t be more than one of us in a territory at a time. We don’t need him here.”
Micah? Who’s Micah? he wondered, a sense of panic welling up from his stomach. He must have been talking to Trish Whitney, the old woman who lived down toward New Meadows. Why would he know her and why would Finn talk to her in such a way? From the sound of it, they were close. Like a mother and son almost…
“I miss her. I need her, Trish. Damn it, I love her. And it’s not just the bond, it can’t be. I. Love. Her. Micah has to leave. We can’t work on our relationship if he’s here. He’s driving a wedge between us.”
No! He’s driving a wedge between us! The thought screamed in his mind, rage racing through his veins like acid. He had to learn more about this Micah and find out how he knew her. Finn was bad enough, why couldn’t she open her eyes and see these men for what they were? Users. Abusers. Defamers. The thought of her being with someone else was blasphemous. Not again. He refused to be passed over again.
“No.” Finn continued to pace across his porch as though agitated. “I don’t want to see her right now. Not after what happened yesterday. She’s probably pissed and honestly, I wouldn’t blame her. I need to collect my thoughts, think about what I want to say first. She deserves an apology. I came on too strong, I—I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I’m sorry, Trish. I know better than to influence her that way. But I couldn’t think of any other way to show her how much…” He paused again, probably listening to the comforting words of that old biddy. “You’re right. I’ll wait. I trust you.”
Finn turned his back and leaned against the porch railing. Weak fool, he’d never see it coming. Bloodlust clouded his vision and his mouth watered at the thought of what he’d do to Finn to make him pay. This time he’d kill not only for himself but for her as well. She deserved to be revenged. No one would ever treat her badly again.
Jacquelyn sat in her car, staring at the steering wheel. She’d rather have back-to-back gyno and dentist appointments than face Finn right now. But it had to be done. This volley between them had to end once and for all. It was over. She knew she’d always care about him, but at the moment she wasn’t sure if she even liked him very much, let alone love him. He’d pulled his underhanded Bearer tricks to try and get her into bed. Last night wasn’t the passionate reunion he’d planned it to be. And until he could learn once and for all to respect her feelings, she had to put distance between them.
“Get your shit together, Jax,” she said to her reflection in the rear-view mirror. “Just like a Band-Aid, quick and painless.”
She got out of the car and walked around Finn’s truck, each step precisely placed as she took her time mounting the six steps to the front porch. With a quick glance behind her she surveyed the driveway and the wooded lot that separated his house from the highway, remembering fondly the time he’d laid out a picnic between two towering aspens. Romance had never been Finn’s problem, he had all of that and then some. What he couldn’t give, not ever, was space. With a last steadying breath, Jacquelyn went to the door, her fist poised and ready to knock. You can do this. You can say goodbye.
She felt like an idiot knocking on his door. She’d quit doing that years ago. But she saw it as the first step toward closure. A boundary asserted and nailed in place. Seconds ticked by, and she knocked again. “Finn?” she called through the door. “I know you’re home, let me in!” She waited. Nothing. “Finn! Goddamn it. Let. Me. In!”
Fine. If he wanted to go all junior high and play it that way, she’d just have to oblige him. She could be a petty drama queen, too. With a turn of the knob, she pushed at the door, but something blocked it from opening more than a few inches. The smell—the coppery tang of blood—hit her and her stomach heaved both with sickness as well as terror. “Oh my god!” A mournful wail worked its way up her throat as she abandoned the front door and flew down the steps. “No. No!”
Her arms pumped as she ran to the back of the house where she found the back door locked. “Finn!” she cried. “Can you hear me? Finn!” Frantic, she jumped off the back porch and grabbed an axe from the remains of an old stump near the woodshed. Jacquelyn willed every ounce of force she could muster behind the blow and chopped at the door, breaking it off in large, splintered chunks. She reached a hand through the hole she created, groping for the lock. After she disengaged it, she pulled her hand back and winced as splinters of wood pierced her skin. But she didn’t have time to feel pain. Her heart leapt in her throat as she turned the knob, throwing the door wide open. Oh god. Why had she waited so long to come over?
She rounded the corner from the mud room, and a scream pierced the air. Where had it come from? Again, the mournful wail shredded her composure as she realized the sound had torn from h
er own throat. There was no way so much blood could have come from one body. Finn lay in front of the door, his body twisted at a strange angle, one arm reaching out toward the door, the other clutching the phone to his chest.
“Finn!” She skidded to the floor beside him. Blood, slippery and still warm soaked into her jeans, sickening her. “Finn,” she said, cradling his head in her hands, “can you hear me? Finn, I’m here. I’m right here.”
His chest convulsed, a half-gurgling, half-sucking sound preceded a raspy groan. Her vision blurred from the tears, cascading down her cheeks in a steady stream. Why? Why Finn? “Don’t try to talk,” she cajoled, holding back her own racking sobs. “I’m going to get help.”
“That’s a no-go, Jax.” Finn’s voice already sounded ghostly and unreal. “I think you’re a little too late.”
“What are you talking about?” Jacquelyn fought for composure as hysteria slowly took hold. “It’s not too late. You’re going to be okay. Just hold on, damn it.”
“Listen…to…me,” Finn whispered. Every word seemed to pain him, the effort more than he could afford to expend. “I…”
“Finn—”
“I’m…” The words stalled in his throat. “…sorry. For what I did to you.” He panted, blood trickling from his mouth with every expelled breath. “Love…you. So much.”
“Stop.” Jacquelyn forced the command from her lips. She pressed her forehead to his and Finn sucked in a strained breath. “Stop it. This is not goodbye. Do hear me? You’re not going to have the last word.”
He tried to laugh, and his body lurched with a spasm of pain. “You know, I think I will.” He winced. “That’ll be a first. He’ll take care of you.” More blood, too much, trickling from his mouth. “I…felt it the first time we met. He cares about you. You won’t be alone.”
“What are you talking about, Finn? Who did this to you? Tell me who did this!” The sounds of tortured sobs distorted her words into blunt hiccups. “Who—is—it?”
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