by Billi Jean
“I am?”
“Yes.” Aubrey smiled at her as if she’d just given her the best news ever.
“But”—Hunter shook her head, not feeling immortal, or anything really, just…miserable—“I don’t feel immortal. Are you certain?”
The constant ache from her face and the punctures on her hands and feet hurt. The boots were going to be torture, but she didn’t say anything about it. Aubrey no doubt knew. She might also know how she’d gotten punctures in her palms and through the top of her feet, but Hunter wasn’t going to ask. The mystery of why she didn’t know was good for her. She had enough nightmares from the reality of her life. She didn’t need more from her death.
“Aye, I believe so. You survived wounds that would have killed you, if you were mortal. Even Trouble agreed. The sword wound alone would have killed you. So aye, we believe since you are back, you are immortal now. How else can you explain your return?”
Hunter wasn’t sure. She felt the same. Hurting, yes, but the same as she’d always felt. “Trouble was here?” And she just left without talking to me or waiting for me to wake?
“She saw you and agreed that you must be immortal now. Lucifer, he could no’ do this. At least I donna think he could, and that’s why I have to go. I need to find out who did this, and if that means there is a way to break this curse,” Aubrey said, waving at Hunter’s face, “we need to know what you must do.”
Hunter would rather Aubrey go find a cure to the immortality issue, since living forever wasn’t on her list of fun ideas.
“I am surprised you let Kincaid take you down,” Aubrey added quiet-like.
“I didn’t let him,” she answered truthfully. Her face was a curse? But not put there by Satan. By Arawn. “Aubrey, who is Arawn?”
“He is one of our gods, one of our Celtic gods, Hunter. If he put this on you.” She grimaced again and shook her head. “Well, it might mean you can make amends and by doing so, the curse will be removed.”
Stunned, Hunter blinked at her friend, not quite sure she’d heard correctly.
“You made an agreement with Lucifer, true?”
“Yes,” Hunter answered. It seemed everyone knew that now, so she didn’t bother to deny it.
“Why, Hunter? Why him and not another being? One of your gods?”
“Aubrey, I don’t have gods. I was raised by folks who had no religion at all,” she whispered. “I never knew who my parents really were.”
“Ah, I see,” Aubrey said, as if she saw a lot more in that than Hunter did.
“You see what?”
“Well, that would explain it, but truly, Hunter, you are a Celt, and a strong one of the blood. Jade runs through you. I recognize it if you dinnae see it, and so too would your gods. Arawn would no’ be pleased with you for making agreements with Lucifer, a fallen creature of the Christian god.”
Hunter laughed then realized Aubrey was deadly serious. “Wait. Wait. I sold my freaking soul to Satan to learn control over powers I thought had killed someone with and have suffered every day since then, and you’re saying some god I’ve never met, nor do I want to, is jealous and did this to me?”
Aubrey winced and wrung her hands. “Aye, well, mayhap I am wrong, or it might be a wee bit more complicated than that, Hunter. And, he did make you immortal and save you from Satan.”
“Like that makes up for it? Now instead of getting old and dying”—she gestured to her face—“I can live an eternity like this? A monster! And if you think Satan has let me go, you’re nuts.”
“Hunter, you are no’ a monster!”
Breathless and more angry than she could remember being in her life, Hunter threw her hands up. It wasn’t fair to take it out on Aubrey, though, so she hung her head and tried to make sense of what she’d gotten out of life—what she’d brought down on herself with her actions.
“Aubrey, I feel the same, I don’t feel immortal,” she said.
“Aye, well, I am sorry, Hunter. I ken this does no’ please you.”
They stayed silent for a long while, until Hunter finally exhaled and faced her friend again. “I’m sorry—”
“You have no need to be. I am sorry,” Aubrey whispered. “I wish this had never happened to you.”
“Why are we working with Kincaid anyway?” Hunter asked, not willing to discuss gods and demons any longer.
“Circerran said we should,” Aubrey answered, but she was already distracted, and by the way she paced the room, ready to go. “Aye, I will go see Sorcha, especially if you dinnae remember what happened to you. She would know more.”
“Why not Trouble? She is head now, and really, why any of them? I don’t belong to them. I left.” She anchored her fists on her hips. “Why isn’t she here to drag me before the Coven Conclave? Or the Immortal Council? I know they all hate me now, especially Markee and his pack.”
Aubrey winced. “No, he does no’ hate you, Hunter.”
Hunter snorted and focused on a bit of white fluff on her rug. It reminded her of something else, something bright and shiny, beautiful even when around her everything was ugly.
“Hunter.”
She startled and shook her head.
“No one hates you—no one. Markee was worried for you.”
“Okay,” she whispered. She wasn’t going to cry, not even if it felt as if she was holding together a crack in the Hoover Dam with her bare hands. Gods she didn’t know existed didn’t like her. Why would anyone who did know her, like her? Especially Markee?
“He doesn’t hate you,” Aubrey insisted. “Why would you need to go before the Covens? You’ve done nothing wrong to them.”
“Aubrey, I lied,” she cried, feeling the tears rising higher. “I spied on the Immortal Council. I watched people get hurt and did nothing—”
“Nay, you spied, mayhap, but you were tricked. The devil is a liar, as I am sure you found out,” Aubrey added.
Hunter threw her hands up and tried to walk away. Aubrey caught her arm in a surprisingly strong grip and stopped her before she’d even reached the door.
“Aubrey, you just don’t want to see the facts,” she cried, jerking away to brush at a tear that had slipped past her lashes.
“Hunter,” Aubrey murmured gently and took Hunter’s hand to cup it between both of hers. “Now none of that. No more, eh? No one thinks you were trying to hurt anyone.”
“Oh? And Markee? He doesn’t think this? Or his father?”
“Markee does no’ think you tried to hurt him,” Aubrey said passionately. “He feels verra bad about his actions, Hunter. That you were hurt saving him—”
“I was going to hell anyway, Aubrey. I had to, so I just made it a second earlier. I didn’t save him from anything—”
“You did, and more…you made sure that Agni and Moon were safe—and Trouble.”
Hunter bit her lip, frustrated, confused and upset by everything. The woman wasn’t going to listen to her.
And they expect me to just pick up and go on a hunt with a human like nothing happened? I can barely walk, let alone think straight.
“I’m not a member of the Jade, Aubrey,” she whispered painfully. She wished she was, but they were wrong on that—all of them, even Sorcha. The Lord of Lies was good, very good, at deceit and somehow he’d fooled them all into believing that lie so he could get her in deeper. “And I’m not really anyone’s favorite person right now, other than you,” she added when Aubrey made spluttering sounds. “So—”
“Hunter, you are a member of the Jade,” Aubrey said, getting worked up all over again. “You have to admit that sooner or later. How else will you find your balance?”
Hunter didn’t respond, because hello? What was there to say? She wasn’t a member of the Jade Coven. Every member of that coven could trace their bloodlines back to prehistoric dinosaurs, for all she knew. She’d been found in a bus stop as a child and adopted by a family of truly horrifying people.
I’m not part of anyone’s family.
“Sorcha will a
id us,” Aubrey said. “She kens more about these things than Circerran.”
Kincaid opened her door without knocking and stood outside, a big frown on his face.
“All right. Enough girlie talk. Ready?”
She slammed the door closed on him, having a great deal more fun than she should. There was something about the guy that just begged to be hassled.
“Not cool, Sparky. Not cool,” he said through the door, then yelped when he tried the knob.
“Electricity likes metal,” she reminded him.
“My hand likes spanking your butt, too. Now open the door,” he said, clear as day.
Aubrey’s eyebrows rose.
Even Hunter was shocked. The guy was…something. She couldn’t decide what, though.
“I hope you spank him, Hunter,” Aubrey whispered harshly. “Truly, the man has no respect toward women. I want you to remember something.” She took Hunter’s hands. “Markee is verra upset over you being harmed, and so too is Circerran. We all are.” Aubrey’s eyes filled with tears and she dashed them off with an angry laugh, taking Hunter’s hands again almost desperately and squeezing them. “We all are—all your friends.”
“Aubrey—”
“No, just listen to me. There are times in life when we make mistakes,” Aubrey said. “Aye, and pay for them dearly,” she whispered in a voice filled with pain. “I lost my parents from mine, and I am guessing you lost someone or something too. From this we can grow, or we can slip back into misery. Don’t let this”—she slowly reached out and touched Hunter’s deformed face—“stop you from living, from trusting and believing. You must believe in something, Hunter, or this is all for naught.”
“Aubrey—”
“Just be strong. Look at you.” Aubrey tugged their hands. “You’re up, alive, living. Who cares if your face is damaged? Your spirit is what matters most, Hunter. Your spirit is beautiful, and if people can’t see that, they are blind.”
“Enough of the girl talk.” Kincaid threw the door open and blocked it with a boot as it swung back. “Pity party over now?”
“Kincaid, I am verra unhappy with the manner in which you speak to Hunter.” Aubrey waved a finger at him. “If I were you, I would tread lightly, for if she willnae correct you, I certainly will,” Aubrey said with enough heat in her voice to impress even Kincaid. Hunter had never heard her talk like that, plus her cool accent colored her speech with a pretty sweet whump of good ol’ ass-kicking Scot-angriness.
The big blond ex-SEAL pursed his lips and crossed his arms, flexing his hard biceps in the process. “I’ll take that into consideration, missy. Now, why does that sound like you’re jumping ship?”
“She’s won’t get that reference, smartass. She’s from ancient times. She’s not leaving,” Hunter stressed. “Just checking on a few things. She’ll be back.”
“Aye, I will be back. Best you remember that and start being more polite,” Aubrey said disdainfully. “I doona know what your parents were thinking, raising you without manners.”
Kincaid dropped his arms and affected a pretty funny outraged expression. “I helped her up, didn’t I?” he demanded. “I assure you. I am a gentleman, through and through.”
Hunter doubted that—seriously doubted that—but now, with her face like something out of a horror movie, she wasn’t about to find out. Nor did she want to discover if he could give as wild a ride as he’d boasted. One of the things she’d noticed since she’d woken to this nightmare? Her body was on fire, much, much more than she’d ever been.
Maybe I am immortal now.
That would explain the nosedive her stomach took at the thought of riding Kincaid to relief, but no such thing was going to happen. Not with her like this. She didn’t want anyone to suffer through her orgasm face.
No way, no how. She’d just have to be scarred gruesomely and horny all alone.
Yeah, how is that going to work out with Kincaid willing and—by the look and feel of him when he held you down—able?
Suddenly, her problems seemed as if they’d just multiplied by a thousand.
Chapter Five
“So we are headed to Russia by way of Alaska and a truck?” Hunter asked, as soon as she stepped outside her house. “And you gotta know those changelings might not even be near there.”
She’d put her blonde hair into a ponytail for the world to see her face. He admired that. What he also admired were her breasts in the tiny black V-neck T-shirt, and the way her leggings covered one hell of a fine ass. She had a great figure, not stick-skinny but with some slopes and curves he could hold onto, if he were the man to score that privilege.
By the set of her shoulders and refusal to glance in his direction, he wasn’t placing bets on a quickie anytime in his near future.
She’s also immortal now, Rickie—not in the market for a weaker, non-immortal guy who isn’t even sure what the hell he’s doing with his life any more.
“No, Sparky, we’re going to an airport, then Alaska, then on to the mountains, somewhere out in the middle of nowhere. Maybe even on to Siberia. Where’s your winter gear?”
“Siberia? Are you insane? It’s like sixty below zero there!”
“Yeah, and?”
She had nothing to say at that, other than a grumble he didn’t bother trying to hear. Finally she said, “I have to get winter gear there, I guess. I’ve got none.”
He was planning on the same thing. Made traveling lighter, and he’d seen the specs. It was a fully functional outpost with all the latest gadgets, gizmos and more importantly, the right snow gear. He’d spent time training in the snowiest places on the planet, Siberia being one of them. He knew in Alaska they’d find all the gear they needed to survive in the extreme temperatures. Plus, he had Hunter, who could flash them out of danger in a blink of an eye.
At the moment, though, she didn’t appear too on-board with that. Her posture was one of a very, very unhappy camper.
“Right. So, you good?”
“Does it matter?” she snapped.
“Sure it does. This isn’t a democracy, but you can file a complaint anytime you want.”
Hunter plunked her hands down on her hips and took a deep breath. He admired the view and parked his arm on the side of the truck, waiting for her to line up her arguments against going. There were even some real good ones, too, she might come up with.
“There’s no complaints. And you’re right, this isn’t a democracy. We go my way,” she said, touching her chest lightly. “Which is the witch way. And you? Well, you’ll just have to hold on tight, okay?”
She certainly knew where to start. He opened his mouth and she cut him off with a gesture of disgust at his truck.
“We are not going in some rundown, dirty Ford pickup truck to an airport, then on a plane…then on to another vehicle. Nonsense. That’s what that is, and I’m here to tell it when I see it.” She took a breath then finished with, “Seriously, if you want to work with immortals, start thinking like one.”
“You really are a smart mouth,” he said, admiring that more and more. And one strong woman. She’d just been to hell. Who was he fooling? She was Superwoman, only he saw the pain under the bravado. He knew she was holding off by sheer stubbornness and a whole lot of attitude. Good thing he could take it as much as he could dish it out. “You forgot to do your rock star makeup on your one good eye.”
“Fuck you,” she snipped, reminding him of a Taco Bell dog. “I don’t need makeup to hang out with you.”
He sniffed and took a deep breath, held it and blew it out. “Nah, thought about it for a minute, but nah, not worth it,” he said, grabbing his gear out of the back seat and shutting the door, already missing the truck.
“I hate to even ask, but you thought about what?” she asked, clearly not happy to do it.
“Taking you up on that promise for our quickie now, but nah, it’s too open out here. The neighbors would get jealous.” At her outraged grumbling, he went on, “This is my first time, so go easy on me and
I’ll return the favor. All right?”
She twisted the good side of her face in a confused grimace.
“Oh, come on. Really?” he said, getting in her space. “Did you really forget that peek of my excellent appendage? I’ll go nice and slow. I promise. You just do the same, okay?”
“You’re full of shit. I owe you nothing. Now, just…” She examined him then shook her head. “Hold on to me, and try not to freak out and cry or something if you stub a toe on the landing.”
“It’ll be hard, but I’ll try to remember that when the time comes.”
“You know this is not my skill set, so if I were you, I’d stop with the messing around. I’m so not into you anyway,” she lied—or he hoped she did—but quickly added, “besides, I need to concentrate.”
“Skill set?” he asked. All right, he might have a little bit of worry going on now. He’d counted on this being a bonus for their trip to the frozen tundra. “As in, you don’t do this—shift, mist, whatever—often?”
“I gate,” she snapped, again, clearly not giving it her all because she was focusing on the yard in front of them. “Or try to. When it opens, just walk through quickly, unless you want to lose any of your appendages,” she added with a meaningful glance at his hips.
Before he could recover from that bombshell, the front yard started to disappear and white—not white but snow, he realized, began to appear.
“Come on,” she called and covered his hand with her surprisingly cool one, and squeezed, pulling him as the hole in her yard continued to grow bigger.
“Hunter, are you—?”
“Now, Kincaid, come on.”
He took a deep breath, held it, and ducked through a step behind her right into what felt like a blizzard.
“Whoa, someone forgot to tell Alaska it’s only October,” he shouted into the wind as the freezing air hit him. He glanced back but her gate was already closing. So, five seconds. He was impressed. It would have taken them the day and a night to get this far north.