The Hunters 6: Rafe and Sheila

by Shiloh Walker

  “What brings you here, Leandra?” Rafe said levelly, even as he slid Sheila a look. He already knew. She’d spoken with Lori. He barely remembered bits and pieces from the past day—his mind was too full of all the stimuli he was absorbing from the land around him.

  But she’d talked with Lori.

  And Lori had sent Leandra.

  She shrugged one smoothly rounded shoulder, a small smile dancing on the ruby-red of her lips. “Been hearing tings. A man I been lookin’ for—I hear he’s around,” she drawled, sauntering in with a lazy swing of her hips, the thick black braids of her hair hanging down nearly to her butt.

  “Been hearing, huh?” Rafe drawled.

  Sheila smiled angelically at him. “Just because I didn’t see the sense in leaving doesn’t mean I didn’t see the sense in your words. We needed help. She’s help. And she’s got a serious grudge against him.”

  Looking away from Sheila, he looked back to Leandra.

  “This is your land,” the witch said quietly, her lashes drooping until just a thin sliver of golden-amber showed. She took a deep breath, and her slim body seemed to shudder for the briefest of seconds. “I felt it, the moment I entered. The land is relieved. Much evil has been done here…”

  Her eyes closed completely, and Rafe watched as the air around her seemed to shimmer. When her eyes opened, they glowed. A wind drifted through the room and the thick rows of her braids blew back from her face. Her gaze cut to the left and Rafe turned to see Ella cowering in the corner, staring at Leandra with wide, terrified eyes.

  “Leandra, she is not a threat,” Rafe said in a low voice.

  Leandra’s eyes were vague, staring at nothing as a fey, mysterious smile curved her lips. Although she gazed toward Ella, Rafe had a feeling she didn’t see the vampire…or at least, she didn’t see Ella as she was now.

  The feel of magick danced on the air, tightening, until an unreal tension all but flooded the air.

  And then it was gone. Leandra’s eyes focused as she stared at Ella, the amber of her gaze glowing as she whispered, “I know…she’s salvation.”

  And the glow faded as she reached up, touching two fingers, the nails slicked with the same seductive red as her lips, to her brow. “That was…intense.”

  Rafe heard the increased pace of her heart and he wondered at it. She wasn’t afraid. But she was something. What, he didn’t know…nervous, perhaps. Anxious. Worried.

  Something. But, like many things about Leandra, this was unclear, nebulous.

  “You’re pretty.”

  Rafe turned to see Robbie standing there staring at Leandra with that wide, innocent smile on his ageless face. Turning back to Leandra, he said, “This is Robbie. He and Ella have been here for a while.”

  Leandra’s mouth curved in a smile unlike any Rafe had ever seen from her before. “Hello, Robbie. You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Rafe stood by cautiously, watching as Leandra moved closer to Robbie. Sheila’s hand closed over his and she leaned into him, whispering almost soundlessly against his ear. “Stop worrying so much. She’s a good person, Rafe.”

  He couldn’t quite believe that. But Robbie was staring at her with total trust as she moved closer. The terror from minutes ago was gone.

  “Been here a while, eh?” Leandra murmured. “You ran a long time, didn’t ya?”

  Robbie nodded quietly. When her fingers came up to press against his temples, he just stood there.

  Rafe stared at her, feeling the magick shudder through the air.

  “She’s a witch?”

  Ella spoke in a low, confused voice just behind him. Turning his head, he saw the fear gleaming in her eyes. Forcing a reassuring smile, he said, “A powerful one. One of the most powerful ones we’ve ever seen.”

  Ella licked her lips, and the scar bisecting her face twisted as she scowled, staring at Leandra with confusion. “But she’s a vampire. I feel it. She’ll be a Master one day.”

  “I was born a witch,” Leandra said. Still standing by Robbie, she continued in a bored tone, “But then dat bastard who made ya got a hold of me. Tried to kill me, and would have. But I got me some good friends. One of them saved me.”

  She sure as hell was a mistress of understatement, Rafe mused. It was a lot more complicated than, but she’d summed it all up in just a handful of words.

  “What are you doing to Robbie?” Ella demanded. Her voice trembled and shook, and fear all but oozed from her.

  But she was such a brave little thing, Rafe thought. His heart broke as he thought of her.

  Leandra didn’t so much as glance their way, but her voice was gentle as she responded, “Talking to your friend here, baby. He has so much buried inside his mind, but he can’t understand it, much less tell us.”

  “Don’t hurt him!” Ella whispered harshly.

  Rafe turned to her, kneeling in front of her. “Ella, look at Robbie. He doesn’t understand a lot of things, but he knows human nature. She won’t hurt him—he knows that. Trust him, even if you can’t trust her.”

  Leandra felt lost in the pure gold of the man’s soul.

  She could see back, so far back. He must be three or four hundred years old. His memories were muddled…everything seemed to be little more than image and color to her, like the way she’d expect a child’s thought processes to be. No words. No goals in mind. Nothing beyond Ella and safe.

  Safe.

  That was how he thought of it.

  And safe was away from the bad guy.

  The man’s face was distorted, but she’d recognize those eyes anywhere. As he thought of the bad man, the images that moved through Robbie’s mind were harsh and over-bright. Like looking at a reflection from a carnival mirror, she supposed.

  Heavy black clouds of fear rose up, obscuring his thoughts and his memories from her. Fists would come flying out of the darkness and the pain was obscene, even in memory.

  And then…Ella.

  He saw her standing in the shadows, dressed like a little doll.

  The scars that Leandra had glimpsed on the petite vamp’s face were smoothed out. He saw her as whole and perfect, and he adored her. She was his safety, his heaven, his world…everything.

  It wasn’t a love that was sexual at all. It was pure.

  She was all to him.

  Leandra’s heart ached as she pulled her hands away. Her mind was buzzing with the information she had gathered from him, but it was bitter.

  Turning away, she stared at Ella and felt the same thing deep inside of her.

  Swallowing, Leandra stalked past them, grabbing her bag and shoved the door open.

  It hurt…that much love.

  The thought of love shouldn’t bring pain.

  Unless it was a person who would never know love.

  Sheila followed Leandra out the door.

  For one moment, she’d seen pain in the woman’s exotic eyes.

  Pain so dark and deep, Sheila ached just looking at her.

  Closing her eyes, she stood there and breathed in the air. She couldn’t hear Leandra, but the subtle perfume of the lotion she wore was still in the air. She found the witch perched on the hill just outside the caves where Ella and Robbie had set up their little home.

  Casting a look over her shoulder, she said brightly, “They picked a nice spot to stay at while they are here.”

  “This isn’t a spot—it’s home to them.” Sheila watched as Leandra slid her a narrow look and added, “Dey been here more den thirty years, girl. Long time, dey been running.”

  Sheila blinked, her steps slowing to a stop. “Thirty years?”

  Leandra’s mouth quirked in a small smile. “Been more than a century since dey got away.” Her face sobered and she shook her head. “How did dey get away…I couldn’t see it in his mind. Clouded. His mind is so clouded.”

  “They were hurt,” Sheila said quietly. “I don’t know how badly…”

  Leandra’s voice was brittle. “I got me an idea of how bad. Very bad. Bad enough that hi
s mind shut off the memories just to protect him.” She laughed and Sheila winced at the high, jagged sound. “Protect him. Poor bastard—where in da hell were the Hunters when dis was being done to him?”

  Sheila sighed as she moved to Leandra. Lowering herself to the ground, she smoothed out the long, flowing skirt she’d pulled on earlier. She couldn’t resist comparing herself to Leandra, the exotic dark beauty with her ruby red lipstick, her hair woven into numerous skinny braids, and that tough as nails attitude, her long, sleek curves poured into form-fitting black.

  Total opposites…it sometimes confounded Sheila that she could relate so well to Leandra.

  Leandra was a warrior, bred to the bone.

  Sheila had been born wanting little more than to nurture.

  But they had both ended up in the same place.

  Forcing her mind back to Leandra’s question, Sheila said quietly, “I wish I had an answer to that. They saved themselves—I don’t know how. Ella won’t tell us, although I suspect she remembers. Robbie, well, he can’t. You saw that. They saved themselves, and I don’t want to think about what it cost them. We should have been there, and for some reason, we weren’t.”

  Leandra’s full mouth flattened out into a firm line—her eyes glittering, glowing in the dim light. “I know why.” She held out one hand and Sheila watched as a golden orb, shot through with light and mist, formed, swirling in a circle too fast for the eye to track.

  The mists coalesced into a form within the glowing ball. A face appeared…a rather lovely looking man, entirely too pretty. Except for those soulless eyes. A great, empty maw—and even though he wasn’t standing there before her, she felt as though she was staring straight into hell.

  A shiver raced down Sheila’s spine as Leandra said flatly, “He’s the why.”

  “Pierre?”

  Leandra barely even acknowledged her as she reached up, trailing one ruby-red fingertip over a faint scar on her neck. “He just wanted to feed on me…so he could get away from Mal. He’s afraid of Malachi, very afraid, dat one. Wanted de strength that feeding on a witch could give him. He’d been injured. Killing me would have just been the means to an end.” Her eyes closed, her head lowered, as she whispered, “Didn’t care. He didn’t care at all that I would die, so long as he got what he wanted. And dat…it is probably de least of all his evils.”

  Her voice trailed off for a minute, and when she spoke, it was in a flat, emotionless tone. “Wherever he goes…he creates a null around him. Like he’s not dere…and dere’s fear in de air. People shy away from it…Hunters shy away from it…without even knowing why. And dat is why we weren’t dere.”

  Even though her voice was flat, Sheila sensed a deep pain inside the other woman. Instinctively, she reached up, wrapping her arm around Leandra’s shoulders, hugging the younger woman to her.

  One of her hands came up and closed over Sheila’s hand, squeezing it. “I have seen some great evil, Sheila. Ya know dat? Done more evil than I can easily live with. Most of it blindly. But it pales. Compared to him.”

  Sheila felt something dark and cold move through her at Leandra’s words. “What in the hell are we getting into?” she murmured, shaking her head. Shoving a hand through her hair, she caught the locks in a loose tail at the nape of her neck, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city.

  Leandra chuckled. A low, warm sound as she flopped back against the ground, staring up at the sky. Sheila fell back with her, studying the witch from the corner of her eye. “A vampire, Sheila. He just be another vampire…little stronger, little harder to kill…but he can be killed.”

  Sheila grimaced. “Any bright ideas on how to do it?”

  Leandra grinned slyly and said, “I tink a barbeque would be nice.”

  “Where is he?”

  Leandra just shook her head as she let go of Robbie’s hand. “He can’t tell me. Nothing I can go by, at least.”

  Rafe turned to stare at Ella, arching a brow. “Where is he, Ella?”

  Ella shook her head, wrapping her arms around her body. “I don’t know. We ran here, didn’t think he would follow. I don’t even know if he realizes we are here. We’ve been here so long…” She smiled shakily and shrugged, tears rolling down her face. “We aren’t worthy of his notice, Rafe.”

  He moved over to the chair she huddled in and knelt in front of her, smiling gently. Anytime he spoke with her, he felt like he was walking with Erika. Even though Ella was centuries old, there was something childlike about her, something that went deeper than just her body, fifteen forever.

  “How did you know he was here?” Rafe asked softly, catching her chin when she tried to avert her face.

  The scar that bisected her face puckered around her mouth as she dragged her tongue across her lips. Raising one shoulder in a shrug, she said, “I felt him. He has a taint that you cannot mistake.”

  Rafe blew out a breath and patted her knee before he stood. Turning, he studied Leandra with an arched brow. “Well?”

  Leandra returned the look and said, “What?” Then she turned away, shaking her head and muttered, “Always wanting someting. Ya tink I know someting? Why in dey hell would ya tink I know someting?”

  Shrugging, he said, “Well, do you?” When she just curled her lip at him, he laughed. “That’s what I thought. What do we do?”

  Leandra crossed her arms over her chest, and replied, “We do not do a ting. I have to do it. Mebbe I should jus’ get me ass back to Malachi. What in de hell am I doing…”

  Rafe smiled as she walked away muttering, shaking her head and raking her hands over her head, fisting the thick braids in her hands.

  ‘Well, she looks happy to be a part of the team,” Sheila said brightly.

  “She scares me,” Ella whispered.

  Rafe grinned. “She scares a lot of people, but I don’t think we need to worry about her.”

  Ella shook her head, not looking convinced. “That woman is dangerous—it colors the very air around her.”

  Rafe nodded, listening as the door slammed shut. He knew when she left the house. Like he was holding a fistful of marbles, and one had fallen out, he felt a shifting inside his being caused by her leaving. Damn—Eli had eight different vampires within his enclave, and three who lived solitarily in town. Was he always this aware of his people?

  Looking back to Ella, he said, “Leandra is plenty dangerous. But she’s on our side. It’s the other side that needs to worry now.”

  With that, he turned and walked out.

  Ella stared after him, her brows arched high over her pale, worried eyes. “Now?”

  Sheila chuckled at the deer-in-the-headlights look on Ella’s face. The lady didn’t miss a beat.

  “Leandra has a complicated history,” Sheila said quietly, patting the vampire’s frail shoulder. “But don’t worry. She’s a white hat.”

  Ella’s brows lowered over her eyes and she frowned. “White hat?”

  “Yes, a good guy.” Ella wasn’t hiding her face as much. Sheila found some pleasure in that, but her heart ached each and every time she looked at the delicate creature.

  A lost cause. She couldn’t help but come back to that thought whenever she thought of Ella. Couldn’t see a happy ending for either Ella or Robbie. They were damaged, and they knew it. Sheila suspected something could be done for that hideous scar on Ella’s face—Kelsey and Lori had worked wonders before, and the fact that the mark was centuries-old might not make that much difference to the powers the Healers commanded.

  But nothing could be done about that fact that she had died when she was still a child.

  Nothing could be done about Robbie, either, his mind forever that of a child’s.

  Sheila didn’t know who she hurt for more, the man or the woman. Robbie knew something was wrong with him. He accepted it peacefully, but it still hurt him. Sheila could feel it every time he looked at Ella, his heart in his eyes.

  Sheila felt something tighten in the air around them, and by the look in Ella’s eyes,
she had sensed it, too. Giving Ella a reassuring smile, Sheila said, “It’s okay, baby. It’s just Leandra.”

  “How can you tell? It’s just magick…and magick can hurt,” Ella whimpered, wrapping her arms around her thin body, swaying forward and back.

  “Not all. Robbie’s doesn’t.”

  Ella turned haunted eyes to Sheila and said, “It can. I’ve seen him—he gets angry, and the magick turns bad.”

  Sheila arched a brow. “Has he ever hurt you?” she asked gently. “Or anybody who didn’t deserve it?”

  Ella shook her head even as she continued to stare at Sheila with petrified eyes.

  “Then it’s not bad. It was protection, or justice. Ella, anything can be used to hurt people. The question is whether or not a person is using that power for their own end.”

  “And how can you tell if the magick is good or bad?”

  Sheila lifted a shoulder. “I can just feel it—Leandra’s magick feels a lot like Sarel’s…a friend of mine. They are warriors, but they have hearts as pure as gold. Leandra has been misguided in her life, but she is a good person. Like your Robbie. He’s got a warrior’s soul.”

  * * * * *

  Leandra felt him watching her.

  Scratching another line into the muddy ground, she called out, “Wantin’ to take a look, are ya? Come on and quit hiding in de shadows.”

  He moved soundlessly over the ground, but she sensed him coming up behind her and she shifted slightly to the right to let him have a better look.

  “What are you doing?”

  Something inside her wanted to weep as she looked up into his eyes. She hadn’t ever seen a soul as pure as his. Or a heart as broken. He hid it well. She doubted anybody, even Ella, knew how sad he was. Robbie loved his Ella, the way a man loved his woman, yet he didn’t even know how to handle it. He just knew that if Ella knew he was hurting, it would hurt her, so he hid it.

  “Lookin’ for him,” she finally said, studying the box scratched into the ground before her. “Magick colors the air. I’ve made marks, for you, for me. A few other witches are around here, but not many. A little weird, I tink. Usually more witches around than this. But he scares people—they don’t want t’ be where he is.”