by Kim Harrison
"Almost there, Rache," Jenks said as he darted back from the soft splash of Pierce confidently moving forward. His wings were a worried green. "Get your witch ass moving!"
"Go to hell," I gasped. My lips were inches from going under, and I got a mouthful of river. It went into my lungs, and I panicked.
"Rache!" Jenks shouted as I stopped swimming and tried to breathe. The current took me, and I floundered. Jenks's shouts became muffled, turning into a black swirl of bubbles. Coughing, I clawed my way to the surface.
"Pierce!" Jenks shrilled, and I went down again. My arms were leaden. A blessed warmth was stealing into me, and I listened to the rumble of the water. Numb, I drifted, letting the bubbles slip out. At least the water had gotten warm. The last time I'd fallen asleep in the Ohio River, it had been warm then, too.
A sharp pain in my scalp jerked through me, and I gasped as the cold air hit my face.
"Rachel!" a high-pitched glow was screaming, but I couldn't move to smack it away.
I was still in the water, but stars were playing hide-and-seek among the black leaves overhead. One of them kept moving. It was swearing, too, spilling a glow all over my face. Confused, I felt the ground scrape under my back. Water flowed over my legs, but someone was whispering, covering me up with something heavy and wet.
"I'm not of a mind to understand," the voice was saying. "It's not that cold, and she's a considerably skilled woman. Fit as any."
"She's sensitive to the cold, you ass," the star was saying, dipping close, and the slits of my eyes closed again. "You're going to kill her! Look, she's blue. She's freaking blue again!"
"She'll be fine," the low voice said, and something cold shifted my head and breath touched my cheek. "Stop acting like an old woman. I've seen worse. Rachel? Open your eyes!"
Like I could? My head lolled as I felt myself rise. "Sensitive to the cold," he whispered irately. "How's a body supposed to know? She looks as healthy as a plow horse."
Plow horse, I thought, hazy, my weight shifting.
"She's going to be okay," he said again, but this time, I could hear worry.
"Why, because you think you love her?"
It was my star again, my lucky star, and it was hovering above me to shine a light on the man's face. His features were dripping, creased in worry, and his black hair was plastered to his face. "I shouldn't," he said to the star, and the star's glow dimmed.
"But you do. You're going to kill her. You're going to break her heart and then she'll get sloppy and die."
The world jolted as Pierce stumbled, and I lost track of everything. My existence became a confused motion of stops and starts. Once I felt the hardness of ground under me and smelled earth, and then nothing until I realized I wasn't moving anymore, and I woke up.
It was quiet. It had been for a while, I realized, feeling a pleasant warmth flowing through me. That was wrong. I'd been suffering from hypothermia. I should be shivering, and I wasn't. There was the strong scent of river, wet leather, and... redwood. My eyes opened.
I was lying on my side on a dirt floor with a dirt wall rising before me within arm's reach, going only four feet before turning into a dirt ceiling. A small globe of green-tinted light rested in a wooden lanternlike affair in the corner at my feet. It looked old and dusty. There was a scratchy wool blanket over me—and a masculine arm.
Shit.
My pulse quickened, but I didn't move. Pierce spooning behind me would explain why my backside was so warm. I'd not felt the comforting heat of a real body next to me since Marshal, and I missed it. Careful to not move my head, I looked at his arm, seeing it through his thin white shirt. It was a nice arm, settled perfectly at my waist so it wasn't squishing me. His soft breathing told me he was still asleep. Why he was spooned up against me was obvious. The cold of the river had nearly brought me down, and there was no other way to warm me. This must be his hole in the ground. I hadn't thought it would be a real hole. Safe?
I didn't move, wanting to pretend that I had a right to enjoy the sensation of having another person this close, the comfort of just being together, the trust. I was deliciously warm, almost as if I was in a ley line, and I couldn't help my sigh.
"For land's sake!" Pierce exclaimed, pulling up and away from me. "You're awake!"
The warmth cut off, and I felt the energies in my body jump, feeling the lack of what had been a ley line running through me. There was a scrabbling of noise, and my back went cold as Pierce's light flashed an alarmed brightness. I sat up, grabbing the blanket and skittering to the other side of the small underground room to stare at Pierce in the green light.
That had been a line! Had he been pulling a line through me? While I was unconscious? Not a power pull since my chi was empty, but something else? Who did he think he was?
Pierce sat with his head a foot below the ceiling, his back to the opposite wall, one leg bent on the earth, the other propped up. He was fully clothed, but wearing almost nothing—his coat and clothes were hanging on pegs hammered into the wall with a puddle of mud under them. A white shirt and matching trousers covered almost all of his skin, but I could see the outline of his body well enough.
"I'm sorry," he said, his expression alarmed and his eyes wide. "I didn't take advantage of you. Rachel, you were cold. I was trying to warm you up. It wasn't a power pull."
"You were pulling a line through me!" I said, angry. "I was freaking unconscious! What in hell is wrong with you!" Sure, I'd been dying of cold, but I didn't even know what he'd been doing. It sounded close to what a witch did with a familiar.
Pierce looked at the ceiling. Now that the light was brighter, I could see it was of wood so old that roots were coming through it. "It wasn't a power pull. Lower your voice."
"I will not!" I shouted, starting to shiver. "I'm not your freaking familiar! Pull a line through me again, and I'm going to... sue you!"
His lips tightened, and he frowned. When he shifted as if to come closer, I flung out a hand in warning and he rocked back. "You have a right to be in a fine pucker, but I'd sooner die than impugn your honor. I didn't pull a line through you, I simply included you in my communion with one. I'd never seen anyone in all my born days as cold as you, and it was to warm you. It was a mistake to take you into the water. I didn't know you were susceptible to cold. And lower your voice. There are dogs in the woods."
At his last words, my attention slammed to the ceiling. Fear plinked through me, stealing my breath as the memory of Trent's hounds tracking me hit a deep chord and resonated. Dogs. There were dogs in the woods. The same ones who had tasted my scent. The same who had run me through Trent's beautiful, silent, and deadly woods.
In a heartbeat, the memory hit me of being unable to breathe because my lungs hurt so badly, my legs leaden and scratched, the water I'd splashed through making me slow, and the mud mixing with my tears as my breath rasped. I had never been hunted like that, chased by an animal who single-mindedly thirsted for my death, eager to tear my flesh and take joy in burying its nose in my warm insides. And now I was in a hole in the ground, helpless.
My God. I had to get out of here!
"Rachel, you're all right," Pierce whispered, inching awkwardly across the dirt floor to me, his heels in the air and toes shuffling. "Please, you're safe. Be still. There's a hole for air, and enough to breathe. The walls are firm."
Images of being pulled from the ground and ripped apart mixed with the reality of having been chased before. "I have to go." I lifted a hand and felt the ceiling, bits of it falling on me. I had to run!
"Rachel, be still!"
Frantic, I stood, crouching, putting my back and shoulders against the ceiling to push. I had run before. I had run and survived. I had to run now!
Pierce shifted forward, and I grunted, head thunking the wall when he was suddenly on top of me. "Let me go!" I shouted in panic. He didn't understand. He didn't know! I tried to shove him away, but he caught my hand. His grip was tight, and I went to kick him.
Wise to it,
he dodged, pinning me to the wall with his weight. My air huffed out, and I wiggled, trapped. "Let me go!" I said, and he covered my mouth with a hand smelling of dirt.
"Shut pan," he hissed, his body covering mine. "I know you're scared, but you're safe from all creation. They'll be gone like greased lightning if you would just be still! Couldn't you have stayed asleep but a hooter more?
A horn sounded, faint. Panic jerked my eyes to the ceiling. They were above us? Right now? Again the horn came. And dogs. Baying for my blood.
Fear hit hard, and I struggled. He pulled me into him, his arms wrapped around my body, his legs around my waist, and his hand over my mouth as I fought. I was crying, damn it, but he didn't understand. Dogs never gave up; they never quit. They sang for your blood as you ran, heart pounding and lungs burning, until they clawed you down and tore you apart and your screams mixed with their snarls for your blood. I had to get out of this hole. I had to run!
"Go to sleep, baby, Mama will sing. Of blue butterflies, and dragonfly wings," Pierce sang in a whisper, his lips by my ear, and his hand clamped over my mouth, hurting me. I fought, and he squeezed me harder.
"Moonlight and sunbeams, raiments so fine. Silver and gold, for baby of mine."
He was rocking me, his hand hurting, and his arms too tight. My sobbing breath came in through my nose, and I began to shake. He wouldn't let me go. I couldn't run. I was going to die. I was going to die right here, and it would be his fault!
"Sing with me, Rachel," he whispered, eyes on the ceiling. "Go to sleep, baby. Sister will tell, of wolves and of lambs, and demons who fell."
I didn't know the words, but the tune plucked a faint memory. Sing. Why do they always sing lullabies? Stupid asses.
A thumping cadence came right overhead, and my eyes shot to the ceiling. Terror filled me, and I whimpered behind Pierce's hand, pressing into him.
Pierce's singing cut off. "Sweet mother of Jesus, protect us," he whispered.
My heart pounded so hard I thought it would kill me outright. A dog bayed, muffled but clearly right over us. I jerked, Pierce's grip tightening even more. I started to shake, my eyes clamped shut as I remembered the crashing of branches and the sound when the horses and dogs grew close as I had tried to escape. I couldn't outrun them, but the horror of being torn apart alive had pushed me through the brambles and across swales of thorns. I trembled in Pierce's arms. We should have run. Tears leaked out. I couldn't breathe. Oh God, we should have run.
A horn blew more distantly, and the dogs answered. My eyes flashed open at the soft patter of dirt falling on my face in time with the thumping of horses' hooves. And with a rapid cadence... they were gone.
My gasping breath came in around his fingers, wet with my tears. Pierce's arms wrapped around me eased. He didn't let go, shaking himself as his fingers fell from my mouth and I took a clean breath of air, almost a sob.
"I opine that was as near to death as I'll get afore I make a die of it again," he said softly.
They were gone? I sat there, not believing it. I shouldn't be here. There had been dogs, dogs tracking me. I had survived?
Breath fast, I looked at the wall, not understanding as reason started to trickle back. Pierce's head thunked into the dirt wall as he looked up. He was warm behind me, smelling of sweat, dirt, redwood. Masculine. They were gone. "Let me go," I whispered.
Pierce loosened his grip. In a smooth motion, he slipped out from behind me, taking his warmth and comfort to the other side of the hole. The light in the corner dimmed.
Cold and sick at heart, I fingered the abandoned blanket closer and draped it around me, shaking as I looked back at my panic. God, I'd completely lost it. What in hell was wrong with me? And yet I was still shaking. "Thank you," I said, looking at my trembling hands, covered in dirt and stinking of the river. "I don't know what got into me. It was..."
His eyes meeting mine were dark with pity. "You've been run by dogs before?"
I nodded, looking at the ceiling and pulling my knees to my chin. My leather pants were damp and icky. Freezing. His thin clothes were dark with moisture where he'd held me.
"I can tell," he said, frowning as he remembered his past. "It's always the ones who have been run before that give me the most trouble." Smiling faintly, he returned his attention to me. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. It wasn't my intent."
My gaze dropped, embarrassed, as I remembered my terror. "No..."
"Oh, Rachel," he said softly, and I looked up at the compassion in his voice. "I don't set much store by what happens in a hole in the ground. It's of no circumstance. None at all. There was one time, I swan, it took three of us to keep him down and quiet. When elves ride, they magic fear into their prey. And Kalamack's spawn has hunted you before."
Instead of making me feel better, I felt even more stupid. It hadn't affected him. Expression sour, I peeled my socks off my feet and checked between my cold toes to make sure I hadn't picked up any leeches. "I flaked out. Sorry." I remembered his warmth behind me, and his voice, calm and frightened all at the same time, begging me to be quiet as he sang about silver and gold. "You've done that before. Kept a person quiet."
He nodded, not looking up. His brow was furrowed. "Does it always work?"
He shook his head, and I shivered. I had a right to be afraid, then.
"You're cold," he said, seeing me with my arms wrapped around my shins. It was the cold, sure, but it was the spent adrenaline, too. There had been nothing but fear in it. No high, no euphoria. God, I was stupid. Or maybe I was starting to get smart.
I looked over the small room, gaze lingering on the fieldstone wall. "Where are we?"
"A short stretch from the river."
My belt pack was in the corner, and I eyed it. I was cold, hungry, and in a hole in the ground, but at least I had my elven porn, damn it. "Jenks?"
Pierce settled himself, gaze on the ceiling. "On his way to Ivy," he said. "He was determined not to mosey off until satisfied you were sound, but after you pinked up, he left."
Wiping my hand under my nose, I found a more comfortable position. There wasn't much room here. It was bigger than say... two coffins, and about four feet tall.
Pierce's bare feet shifted as he found a new way to sit. "We're likely to be some time. I'm of a mind sharing that blanket might make it nicer."
My attention jerked to his, suspicion rising high. "You can have it." I pulled it from around my shoulders and tossed it to him. It landed between us to somehow look dangerous.
Pierce leaned forward, his expression cross as he dragged it to himself and watched me shiver. "I won't say you're a cold woman, Rachel, because you're not. But you're... a sight too wary of those whose aim is but to give you comfort. Grit your teeth if you must, but I'm coming over and we're sharing this blanket."
"Hey!" I said loudly, then froze, looking at the ceiling, fear spiking through me. "You stay right there," I whispered, hand outstretched in warning. "I said you could have the blanket."
He hesitated, crouched awkwardly because of the low ceiling. His black hair was in disarray, and his white underthings covered everything and hid nothing.
"What are you going to do?" he asked. "Hurt me because I want to share a blanket? I won't impugn your honor. You're an ornery woman if you won't allow a man even that."
He moved forward again, and I pressed into the wall, feeling its cold through my thin chemise as he came on. "I said stop!" The pitch of my voice halted him, and he hesitated, a foot back. Heart pounding, I whispered, "I might. I've hurt people before. It's what I do. Demon kin. I'm demon kin, and tonight proves it."
"Aye, you might." Pierce's eyes narrowed. "I'll chance it."
I didn't have time to react as he shifted to sit right next to me, pushing my arm away when I went to shove him back, slipping the blanket around us and drawing it close.
"You son of a bitch," I said, and he caught my wrist as I went to shove him, tucking it under his arm so he could pull the blanket closer over my shoulder. "Leave off!"
<
br /> "A body is just trying to get warm!" he said, irritated. "Hold still."
He moved to block another smack—and both my hands were caught. "You've been giving your trust to the wrong people. Nohow can you fix it," Pierce said, and I quit, surprised. "What do I have to do to win your trust? Damnation, woman, I just saved you three times, and the sun isn't even up yet."
Panting, I stared at him through my lank strands of hair. "I trust Jenks and Ivy."
His eyes were inches from mine. "You trust on the surface, but no deeper. You don't know how. For a clever woman, you took the short end of the stick when it comes to men."
I shoved my shoulder into him, seeing as he had my wrists in one of his hands. "Get off! I don't want to play this game, Pierce."
I tapped a line—ready to risk Trent's feeling it—and Pierce's grip on my wrists tightened. "Game," he said, voice angry. "It's an all-fired serious game, and we're going to settle it off the reel. I don't set much store by the lies you tell yourself to protect your heart. Tell me a truth, and I'll let go of you. Use that line upon me instead, and I'll smack your head into the wall."
Yeah, he probably would. "This is stupid, Pierce," I said, heart pounding. "Let me go."
"Aye, stupid," he muttered. "Tell me a truth, and I'll let go." I wiggled, and his grip tightened. "You can't think of one dash-it-all truth?"
"You scare me," I blurted out, and he exhaled. The furrow over his brow eased, and he loosened his grip on my wrist.
"Why?" he said, but he didn't sound surprised as he gazed at me, a new stubble on his face and his expression unforgiving.
I thought of his sorry state, stinking of river water and prickly, then the time I'd seen him standing in my church, clean and dressed impeccably, with a hat. Who wears a hat anymore? "Because I'm attracted to you," I whispered. "And every man—or woman, for that matter—I'm attracted to is dangerous. They betray me or end up dead or... hurt me somehow."
My heart pounded as he thought about that. "That's half a truth," he said, and let go of one of my wrists.
I rubbed my wrist, trying to erase his touch. "I'm afraid that anyone who can look past my shunning and smut is a bad person and not to be trusted. Like you."