by Linda Howard
Beware.
She had only her instincts to go on, but she never doubted them. The man had not had good intentions toward either her or the child.
She pulled Elijah close to her and wrapped her arms around him, offering him the comfort of her touch, the knowledge that he wasn’t alone. In spite of the chill of the day, he was warm, his smallness making him feel soft and fragile to her. She didn’t want to let go of him. Poor child, his heart was beating so hard she could feel it under her palms. His distress was palpable.
And in that moment, she knew she would do whatever she needed to do to protect him.
She felt a warning tingle race up her spine a bare second before she heard someone approaching. The fallen, dead leaves on the floor of the forest made a quiet approach impossible. Whoever was headed their way was not the man she’d laid low, she knew that. This was another, someone more dangerous than a crooked policeman.
She stood, spun to face this new danger, and pushed Elijah behind her.
A Hunter was coming toward her. She knew it by his bearing, that erect, alert posture, the predatory sharpness of his gaze. One could always tell a Hunter just by the eyes, something other about them, even without the long knife he wore that was of a shape and metal peculiar to the Hunters. She had been expecting one, though truthfully not so soon.
What she had not expected was that he would draw his weapon as he approached her.
Despite her puzzlement, she kept Elijah firmly behind her. “Stop!” she commanded.
He didn’t pause. The Hunter knew who she was, and didn’t care.
“Do you have the deck?” he asked, finally stopping when he was mere feet away.
Taken aback, she stared at him. He was here for the Alexandria Deck, not for her. That was … immediately relieving, that he didn’t mean harm to her or Elijah, followed hard on its heels by alarm because that wasn’t what it meant at all. “Who sent you?” she asked sharply. The magical deck was so powerful many of the Major Arcana would desire having it under their control, but who would send a weapon-bearing Hunter after it? There were a few who were capable, but with no more than a flash of thought she knew exactly who had sent this one. “Ah,” she said quietly. “Veton.” Of course. None of them would want it more than the one who would see the deck as an unending source of entertaining chaos.
The Hunter smiled and tipped his head, without a sound telling Lenna her supposition was correct. She carefully didn’t glance at her bag, or make any protective move toward it. Did he realize he needed every card in order for there to be power in the deck? How much did he know?
Still smiling, the Hunter moved closer. “Give me the deck, and I’ll gladly take you back to your home.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I hear you can be replaced.”
Replaced? Impossible.
Before she could respond, the Hunter lunged for her, his knife blade gleaming with magic, his face determined. Lenna shoved Elijah to safety and danced to the side, drawing the Hunter and the danger away from the child, rapidly trying to plot a strategy. The Hunter would make a much more fearsome opponent than had the human in Elijah’s kitchen.
She spun to meet him and lashed out with a kick, but they were both moving so fast her foot barely grazed the Hunter’s back. He rolled away from the force of the kick and sprang back up, not only uninjured but not even stunned. And smiling.
“Tell me where the deck is,” he said.
“Lenna?” Elijah whispered, and then he said more loudly, “You leave Lenna alone!” With a cry he rushed toward the Hunter with his hands curled into small fists.
Lenna’s heart almost came through her chest. “Elijah!” He didn’t have a chance against a normal adult, much less a Hunter! Forsaking her own protection, she threw herself at the child, tackled him, and went rolling with him across the icy ground. Dead leaves rustled beneath their bodies, and the snow and ice that crusted the leaves stung her face and bare hands.
The Hunter laughed, coming toward them as she rolled up onto her feet and faced him again, once more with Elijah behind her.
She had no delusions about her capabilities in a battle. She was fast, yes, with some skill, and she did have an impressive physical strength compared to the humans of this world, but she had no weapon and she couldn’t defeat the Hunter with strength alone. She might hold him off for a while, but in a physical match there could be only one end, one that didn’t favor her.
“Let the child leave,” she bargained. She had to get Elijah out of danger. She could send him to a neighbor, or a friend. That wasn’t her plan—she didn’t really have a plan—but once he was out of the way she would at least have one less worry to occupy her mind. She didn’t have the skill to defeat a Hunter, but perhaps she could outsmart him, if she didn’t have to expend energy on protecting Elijah.
“I don’t think so,” the Hunter said, his eyes gleaming with cunning. “Give me the deck, and I won’t hurt him. I will send you home, unharmed. Fight me, and …” He shrugged. “In the heat of battle, there are always innocent victims.”
He would hurt Elijah to get the deck. She would gladly give him the cards to protect the child … if she trusted him. She did not. She had promised to help Elijah, which she couldn’t do if the Hunter took her back to Aeonia as soon as he had the deck, not that she trusted him to keep his word on that. He had been sent to retrieve her, yet obviously he was also working for Veton. From all she had seen, he seemed perfectly willing to kill her. At least, he was more than willing to try.
Lenna didn’t know what would happen if she actually died. She had no desire to find out.
She squared her shoulders. She had to defeat this Hunter. When he didn’t return with her, surely another Hunter would be dispatched to retrieve her. Somehow she had to help Elijah. The two things she needed to do—return to Aeonia, and aid Elijah—were at odds with each other, yet she was determined to do both. She had some time, and she would use every last second of it trying to keep her word to the child. She would do everything she could, and if in the end another Hunter didn’t come for her, she would find her own way home.
She was certain the One had a contingency plan, too. Didn’t He always? Despite the dire situation, that thought made her smile.
The Hunter was instantly suspicious, and she saw his grip tighten on the supernatural weapon in his hand. If she could be killed, that knife would be the weapon to do the deed. The Hunters had weapons to handle every situation.
Quickly she said, “I don’t have the deck, but I know where it is.”
“Take me there.”
If she had trusted him … but she didn’t. She turned as if to start off through the woods, and as he reflexively relaxed at this indication of her obedience, Lenna seized this as her best chance to catch him off guard and threw herself sideways into him as she shouted, “Run!” at Elijah, and hoped he obeyed as willingly as he had before.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the child dart away, then all of her attention was focused on the battle. It was brief but fierce, and the outcome not unexpected despite her willingness to do the worst she could while the Hunter was logically hampered by his desire to keep her alive until he knew where the deck was.
She managed to snap her head up under his chin and daze him a little, something that made him snarl like an animal. But he was too strong, too fast, and trained in battle, and in short order he had her pushed up against a tree, the cold bark rough against her back. He held her there, both her hands captured in one of his, the blade of his knife resting on the skin of her throat.
Despite being pinned and barely able to move, Lenna lifted her chin as much as she could and coolly met the Hunter’s malevolent gaze. “Do your worst, and face the consequences.”
“There will be no consequences,” he said with a curl of his lip. She felt a bit of satisfaction as she saw some blood on his mouth. Either she’d managed to land a blow or he’d bit his lip when she butted him under the chin. “Not to me, anyway. Yo
u, on the other hand … Tell me where the Alexandria Deck is or I will cut you up a piece at a time until you give me what I want.” His tone was low and menacing.
She faced him calmly, resolutely. She would tell him nothing. If that meant a slow and painful end to her very long life, then so be it. “You will never find the deck, and you will never catch the boy.”
The Hunter smiled, and it wasn’t a pleasant smile. “The boy is running straight for my companions. And you will talk. Eventually.”
The blade bit into her skin.
Chapter 6
Elijah ran. The day was kind of dark, with all the clouds, but there was gray light beyond the trees. He could see the back of his house. The kitchen door was still standing open, the way they’d left it when he and Lenna ran away from the policeman. He slowed, his run turning into a walk. He was breathing hard, trying not to cry again, but he was so scared and didn’t know what to do.
What if that bad guy hurt Lenna? Mom was gone, and if Lenna was gone, too—
He couldn’t finish the thought.
He stopped.
Lenna had told him to run, but … he and Lenna were Hunters, right? She’d said they were. Hunters didn’t run; Hunters didn’t leave their friends to the bad guys, no matter how scared they were.
He was at the edge of the woods where he and Zack sometimes played superheroes or cowboys. This wasn’t playing. He turned around, took a deep breath as he clenched his hands into fists, and began running again, as hard as he could—back toward Lenna. He wasn’t sure what he’d do when he got back to her, he just …
He just didn’t want to leave her, and even if he did, he didn’t have anywhere else to go. That was the worst feeling, not having anywhere to go.
He dodged through the trees, his sneakers slipping in the thin coating of snow and ice, his breath heaving in and out, until he hurtled back into the small clearing where he’d left Lenna.
Lenna and the bad guy were fighting. Elijah was so frightened his legs almost went out from under him. She was a good fighter, he thought, but then all of a sudden the bad guy shoved her back against a tree and held his knife to her throat, and at that sight, Elijah’s legs went out from under him, after all, just collapsing and dropping him to his knees.
The bad man was going to kill Lenna. She’d be dead, just like Mom.
Elijah’s vision started to fade around the edges. Everything was going gray. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t stand up, he couldn’t even move. He heard himself screaming in his mind but no sound came out of his mouth. Noooo!
Caine teleported into Seven, feeling as if something was wrong. Normally teleporting was effortless, a brief cold but smooth sensation, then he was where he intended to go. This had been different, strangely bumpy, but the feeling was gone before he could analyze it and then he was in a cold, snowy forest, the early-morning light dull and gray, the energies reading as another Hunter, Strength herself, and a human child who was collapsed on the ground.
In the span of a heartbeat, he assessed the situation. The other Hunter had a knife at Strength’s throat, about to slash her. “Why” didn’t matter, not when his own mission was to take her back to Aeonia. He didn’t ask, he acted, exploding with the supernatural speed for which he was famous—or infamous—slamming into the other Hunter from the side and knocking him away from her. She slumped to the ground, but he didn’t take the time to check her for injury. His first instinct was to simply kill the man, but he had to allow for the possibility there was something going on he needed to know. Instead of attacking, he drew his own knife and positioned himself between Strength and the other Hunter, who had staggered but then swiftly regained his balance. He whirled back with a snarl, then he checked, his pupils flaring as he saw Caine.
Nevan. The other Hunter’s name was Nevan. Caine recognized him, because the Hunter society was fairly small and extremely exclusive, but knowing someone’s identity wasn’t the same as knowing someone as a person. The Hunter had been about to kill one of the Major Arcana, something unheard of—not that the Hunters weren’t dispatched sometimes as executioners, but never of any of the card entities, not that he knew of. Whether or not he’d known Nevan better wouldn’t have made a difference. Strength was his mission; he’d allow nothing to sway him from returning her to her place in Aeonia.
Nevan balanced himself, gripped his knife for an upward slash. “Cease,” Caine said softly, offering an out even as he balanced himself for battle.
“Can’t,” Nevan replied, and charged forward with the inhuman speed of a Hunter. Caine met it with his own speed, parrying the thrust of Nevan’s knife and pivoting to land a back kick on the side of Nevan’s knee, crushing it sideways and collapsing Nevan to the ground. The other Hunter wasn’t without skill; despite what had to be intense pain he rolled and came upright again, facing Caine.
Caine slid sideways, pulling Nevan’s attention with him and away from Strength, who had risen to a crouch at the base of the tree. He was acutely aware of her every movement, though he didn’t glance at her or in any way indicate that his attention was anywhere other than on his opponent.
He had options. He had his shotgun, and from what he could see, Nevan had no weapon other than the knife. The shotgun was loud, though, and would draw the attention of any humans nearby. Knife it was, then, unless he was forced to use the shotgun. He’d do whatever was necessary to protect Strength and complete his mission.
Unfortunately, “whatever was necessary” was likely to cost a fellow Hunter his life. Nevan wasn’t a neophyte, but neither did his experience come near to equaling Caine’s. Caine was faster, stronger, and smarter. He would never have let himself be lured away from his target. To give Nevan one more chance, he said, “Go, and live.”
“Can’t,” Nevan replied once more, and attacked. Caine stepped into the charge, and they closed together in the blurred speed of Hunter battle, a ballet of inhuman speed and uncanny accuracy, because no Hunter survived long without both. His movement disrupted Nevan’s aim and momentum, and he used his forearm to block the intended lethal stab and force Nevan’s arm upward, leaving the midsection exposed.
Caine would have preferred not to kill another Hunter, but Nevan had made his own choice by not quitting the fight. Caine struck upward into the other’s vulnerable midsection, his magicus silver blade slicing through bone as if it were water, straight into Nevan’s beating heart.
Nevan dropped as if his legs had been severed from his body, straight to the icy ground. He lay there with his eyes open but blank, blood leaking from a body whose heart no longer pumped, his essence already fading.
Caine knew he had only seconds. “Who sent you?” he asked, going down on one knee beside the still-sentient Hunter. Who would want to destroy Strength? Before he’d left Aeonia the Emperor had warned him others might’ve sent Hunters for Strength, though not as protectors. Others would want the Alexandria Deck for themselves and would do anything to have it—but retrieving the cards was one thing, and killing Strength was another.
Nevan slowly focused on Caine, awareness there for the smallest moment—and then he was gone, faded away as if he had never been, leaving Caine kneeling beside nothing more than dead leaves and patches of snow. The body had ceased to exist on this plane, perhaps on all planes.
Caine mentally shrugged. He would have liked to get some information from the other Hunter, but he could still appreciate the tidiness of not having to dispose of Nevan’s body.
He looked over at Strength—Lenna—who was slowly rising from her crouched position, her gaze locked on his face. A faint buzz ran through his veins, a heat and an energy that sent all his senses on high alert. He’d known she was beautiful; many of the Major Arcana were blessed with extraordinary beauty, and she was no exception, which in a strange way made her ordinary. Her harmonious features, though, weren’t what first caught his attention. What snared him, held him, was the steadfast determination of that direct gaze. Even knowing she was Strength personified, facing that
willpower in person gave him the unwelcome sense of having met his match. He was accustomed to being the most determined being in any situation, his enormous focus and will giving him a power beyond that of the body. Looking at her, seeing her in the flesh, he knew that in this situation he couldn’t be certain that was true.
She had been injured; a thin slash of blood marked the place where Nevan’s blade had touched her. Thank the One it was no more than a scratch, and as a Major Arcana she would heal quickly. There was no reason for him to even make note of the injury.
Without taking his eyes from her, he gave her a curt but proper bow, one that acknowledged her position but not necessarily her superiority.
She was much more beautiful in the flesh than in the vision the Emperor had shared with him. Vae! She glowed, with a faint but definite luminosity to her skin. He immediately thought of seeing all her skin … in the dark … beneath him. Vae indeed.
The electrical charge surged stronger, making his penis thicken. He turned his own force of will on his body, slamming down a mental wall on that avenue of thought and subduing his mating urge. He allowed nothing—nothing—to interfere with the mission.
There was sudden movement behind him but his acute senses told him it was made by the human child, who was not a threat to anyone, certainly not to Lenna or to Caine himself. The child ran on unsteady legs to Lenna and threw himself at her, locking his skinny arms around her and burying his face against her side.
A gentle expression crossed her face. Bending her bright head over the child’s dark one, she soothed the boy with a hand on his head, with softly murmured words of comfort.
Then she looked back up at Caine, and the gentleness was gone. To him, she didn’t offer softness and caring; in those powerful eyes he saw the willpower she represented, the inner strength she shared with all the worlds, and a gathering storm of anger. He didn’t want to see an angry Strength; according to legend, her fury could send armies surging across the land, laying waste to all who angered her. She was normally calm, even serene, but her reverse was a lack of control that could devastate this plane.