The Hunter

by Theresa Meyers

  A very different image flashed in Colt’s mind. He shook his head and didn’t dignify her comment with an answer, even though his body certainly responded to it. He snatched up his hat, dusted it off by slapping it a few times, and settled it back into place on his head. He didn’t need his thoughts taking that wayward turn. He needed to be focused if he wanted to keep them alive.

  “I’m taking a wild guess that birth order isn’t the correct combination,” Lilly said with sarcasm as she dusted herself off, picked up the illuminator, and took the hand he offered to pull her to her feet.

  “We’re missing something.” Colt kicked a small rock on the ground, sending it skittering away to clang on one of the metal doors. He should be better than this. There was no room for error. The next door could just as easily trigger an explosion that could collapse the entire cave, killing them both. Which would leave Remy and Winn not only without a brother, but without means of closing the portal because they wouldn’t have the third piece of Pa’s Book.

  What other combination made sense? That’s when it hit Colt. He pushed back his Stetson with his index finger so it rested toward the back of his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. The images need to be in the same order that the pieces of the Book of Legend fit together. Only a trained Hunter would know that.”

  “And the demon with him,” jibed Lilly.

  Colt grunted. “Yeah, well, I think that’s rather an exception to the rule. I can’t think of a single Hunter who’s paired up with a demon until now.”

  “Just be careful,” she murmured.

  Her concern was touching, in an annoying sort of way. He hadn’t had much mothering, and the few times his brothers had warned him off of something it was more like adding a match to kindling, firing him up to take an even bigger risk the next time.

  He located the door with the palm tree on the right, the raven up top at center, and the lion on the left. The brothers’ symbols in the same order as the pieces of the Book each of them had taken when it had been separated. Colt reached for the opening, and he mentally prepared for the sensation of a million little prickles as the insects skittered over his skin.

  “Wait!”

  He jerked his hand back. “What? Did you see something.”

  She pulled straight a bit of copper wire between her fingers and shaped the end into a shepherd’s crook. “Use this. No reason to get a bunch of bug innards on your hands.”

  Colt shrugged and took the wire, peering at it, admiring her resourcefulness. “This looks like the wire Marley uses in his coil illuminators. Might work real well.” He wasn’t positive, but in the dim light it seemed that Lilly’s coloring heighted slightly.

  “Well, try it,” she urged.

  Colt slipped the wire into the opening and fished about for the lever. When it stuck, he gave it a good tug. The lever shifted forward. Behind the door there was an echoing thump, followed by the clickity-clack of moving gears. He handed the wire back to Lilly and pushed on the door. This time the bronze door shifted easily inward as if resting on wheels and a track of some kind.

  Colt waited for a moment in case he’d been mistaken a second time. When the only thing that happened was a cold draft of stagnant musty air swirling out around his legs, he crossed the threshold cautiously, Lilly close on his heels.

  Inset into the riveted bronze wall was a sconce with a strange torch set into it. It looked vaguely like an old bronze torch, the handle twisted and narrower at the bottom and wider at the top, terminating in a wide rim with an inch-thick cotton wick at the center. He lifted it out of the sconce. From the sloshing sound, there seemed to be some liquid in the long metal handle. Colt touched the wick and rubbed the slick substance between his fingers, then sniffed. From the oily pungent aroma of it, Colt recognized it was kerosene. He pulled a small box of lucifers from his pack and struck one, illuminating the oil lamp. The coil illuminator was so faint, Colt turned it off completely and tucked it into his pack.

  “Looks like we’re in the right place. There’s no way this just happened by accident.”

  Lilly hunkered close. Too close. The heat of her was a big contrast to the cool air of the tunnel, and her unique spicy floral scent filled his nose, blotting out the stench of kerosene smoke. The pale yellow light of the torch revealed a long, rectangular hallway crafted from thousands of bronze tiles and supported with large, arching, riveted bronze beams. The metal had aged to a greenish patina with the moisture in the tunnel over the years. The colors, coupled with the dancing torchlight, gave the impression of being underwater. Colt shivered.

  “It’s cold in here,” Lilly said as she huddled closer, rubbing the sleeves of her short blue jacket. The color enhanced the peaches-and-cream tone of her skin and made her hair look a deeper, darker red. Colt took an appreciative peek at the curve of her derrière in the buckskin britches. They looked even better on Lilly than they had on China, and that was saying something. He berated himself for being so physically responsive to her. Clearly she had his senses scrambled. But it was more than that. He’d become accustomed to her presence, to the sound of her voice and the quality she lent to the very air she breathed. It was relaxing and intoxicating at the same time, and thinking of losing her made a strange ache start deep in his chest.

  “And dangerous,” Colt added. There was no way this was going to be an easy passage. Hunters had constructed the tunnel both as a protection to what was secreted away here and as a means of funneling unwanted visitors into booby traps designed to eliminate them every step of the way.

  “God only knows what’s up ahead. Stay behind me, and rest your hand on my shoulder. Step where I step, and let me know if you see or hear anything suspicious. Ready?” He was truly as concerned for her safety now as his own.

  She placed her hand on his shoulder as they moved with deliberate slowness down the hallway. All that talk about demons seeing just fine in the dark didn’t seem to matter when she was well and truly frightened, Colt thought. And she was sensible to be scared. He focused on the details of the construction, trying to work out exactly what they were facing. In the realm of Hunters, it was up to him to protect her.

  The walls were crafted from six-inch-by-six-inch metal tiles inscribed with Hunter symbols meant to neutralize Darkin powers and fitted so tightly as to appear nearly seamless. On the floor were large squares of metal, about twelve by twelve, that echoed with each step they took. He listened carefully to the sound for any changes, which might indicate a different surface underneath, but it was difficult with the echo of their footsteps on the metal walls.

  Colt would bet his last gold dollar the panels on the floors and tiles in the walls were trap doors and triggers. This whole place was nothing but a dynamic machine, constructed from a series of complex devices operating in convoluted ways to perform the simple task of killing them. He’d heard other Hunters talk about them before. It’d taken the brains of a mad scientist and the cunning of a skilled Hunter to create something this elaborate and Machiavellian.

  “Why are Hunters always fascinated with being underground? Why not just put the Book of Legend in a safe place under lock and key?” Lilly asked with asperity, her voice echoing as she huddled close to Colt, her small hand gripping his shoulder. Even though the air smelled of disuse and dust, the light floral scent of her tugged at him.

  Colt didn’t know how to answer, but he did his best. “When the original leaders of the Legion of Hunters broke the Book of Legend apart in medieval times, they escaped through the catacombs beneath the church. They’ve been hiding out, a secret presence in society ever since. Maybe being underground is all Hunter ancestors ever knew.”

  Lilly looked at him thoughtfully. She’d always thought of Hunters in general as paramilitary types who had no compunction when it came to Darkin. For them it was kill or be killed or keep someone else from being killed. No matter how one looked at it, Hunters and Darkin were oil and water—the two simply didn’t mix. So why did her stomach give a strange flip
ping motion whenever Colt gazed at her intently? Why did helping him find the Book seem to be becoming more important than even escaping Rathe or reuniting with Amelia?

  Perhaps the Chosen had more powers over the Darkin than they were aware of; perhaps it was just her growing awareness of her feelings for Colt. He’d certainly caused her to react in ways she’d never felt before and made her yearn for impossible things—a home, hearth, and family of her own. Someone who’d treat her as his equal. Someone to love.

  He reached out, touching his fingertips to each wall as he walked. She kept hold of his shoulder, unsure of what might happen next. Beneath her hand his muscles were hot, taut, and rigid. He was just as unsure as she was.

  Colt came to an abrupt halt in front of her, and Lilly ran into the wall of his broad back. Oof. “What now?”

  “Trip wire.” He held the torch lower to the ground so she could see the light reflect off the thin metal filament stretched tight across the hallway. He stood and took care to step over the wire, then held out his hand to help her do the same. Lilly was grateful not to have her long skirts or a bustle hampering the maneuver. Perhaps there was something to be said for a woman wearing britches now and again after all.

  “How did you even see that?” she asked, moving to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

  Colt pointed to the lion in relief formed into the metal of the wall just before the wire. “I didn’t have to see it. I felt the symbol and knew it was indicating something, so I stopped and looked around. There was the trip wire.”

  “What do you suppose it does?”

  Colt followed the wire with his gaze and pointed it out to her. “See how it moves up along the wall, and there connects to a pin, which connects the lever, and then to that large round stone in a track? If we’d tripped on the wire, then the chain reaction would have started.”

  “And?”

  He glanced upward and held the torch higher. Huge stones, nearly the width of the hallway, were suspended above them in the tunnel. “The ball starts rolling down the track, knocking loose the pins holding those stones, and they’d have started crashing down one at a time, forcing us down the hall and blocking our exit.”

  “Or crushing us right where we were standing.”

  Colt just nodded.

  “So trip, and you’re likely to be flatter than a johnnycake.”

  “Yep.”

  She shook her head with disbelief. “And you Hunters think we’re dangerous to your kind. I’d say you’re more of a threat to one another.”

  Colt grabbed her hand in his, his strength and reassuring manner flowing into her through their touch. Lilly had never been protected by anyone all the while she was growing up. And certainly not by Rathe. Colt’s manner touched her heart.

  They kept moving. “There’s no way Pa could have done all this alone. It would have taken several men to be able to create these walls, design the protection devices, and to lift and secure those stones in place. And if they’ve gone to all this effort to plan and build this, then it’s got to be here somewhere.” He turned and locked his gaze on hers, his face serious. “Whatever you do, don’t touch anything.”

  “It’s like we’re walking inside a clock, isn’t it, and these are all the gears and mechanisms.”

  “Yeah, a clock that’ll kill you.”

  Lilly nibbled on her bottom lip and nodded. He turned back toward the unexplored end of the hallway, slowly walking forward. She focused on the greenish glow of the walls. It was nearly impossible in the flickering light of the oil lamp he held out in front to see anything well, let alone clearly, but she could see symbols etched into the surface of the metal, symbols that kept Darkin unable to use their powers to enter this place ... or to escape.

  “How do you know where we’re supposed to go?”

  “We’ll know when we get there.”

  “Brilliant. That makes me ever so comfortable with the idea that we’re trapped inside a dynamic killing machine.”

  “At least it’s not Hell,” he retorted.

  Lilly thought of a few choice words for him. Yes, this wasn’t Hell, but the constant fear, the cold dread thick and uncomfortable in her stomach didn’t feel much different to her than being under Rathe’s thumb. Only the solid connection of him, flesh to flesh, gave her any comfort in this place.

  The unnatural silence of the metal tunnel combined with the lonely echo of only their footsteps started to gnaw at the frayed edges of her nerves. She needed something to take her mind off their present predicament. “Tell me some more about the Legion.”

  Colt hesitated a step, turning his head back to her for a moment, then kept moving deeper into the machine. “Why, so you can use it against us?”

  Her skin heated with annoyance. After all she’d done thus far, and he still didn’t trust her. “Don’t you think I know enough to have done that by now, if that was my intent? No. I need something to keep my mind off where we are and what we’re doing.” That and she was curious. All the Darkin books on the Legion and the Chosen were vague on how they’d begun.

  “What do you want to know?”

  His willingness to share despite his words of distrust drew her even more closely to him. “What happened after the three brothers escaped?”

  “They went their separate ways, trying to get the pieces of the Book as far apart as they could.”

  So that’s why Rathe had no idea where they were and was so eager to have the Chosen collect the pieces for him. The Hunters themselves didn’t know where all three pieces were secreted. A smart strategy if a group didn’t want anyone to discover their secrets. “Did they ever see each other again?” she asked to keep the conversation going.

  Colt shrugged. “I don’t know. The legends don’t talk about that part much. They only tell us which brother founded which line of Hunters. Each line has a separate specialty in hunting. Some Hunters are more skilled at killing vampires, and others are better at hunting demons. Depends on what’s prominent in the area where you live. Stay to your left for about four steps.”

  Lilly looked down and saw the outline of four different squares inlaid into the floor. She pressed herself against the wall, following his lead. “And what if the information you needed to know was in a different portion of the Book of Legend?” she asked.

  He glanced back at her. The torch threw his face into a play of light and shadow, making it look far more sinister than she’d ever seen it. “Then you learned it by trial and error, unless you happened to come across another Hunter from a different line who could train you. We worked in isolation for centuries, but with the telegraph, the postal system, and air travel, Hunters have been able to band together more as our numbers have dwindled.”

  “So nobody wants to be a Hunter anymore?”

  Colt’s laughter had a rusted, dull edge to it. “Nobody chooses this life on purpose, sweetheart. It just sort of happens and takes over.” He stopped, looking at a shaft of light cutting across the interior of the tunnel. He looked at it intently, then took off his Stetson and waved the hat quickly in the beam of light. ZZZOT. An arc of blue electricity several times more powerful than a sting shooter zapped a smoking black spot on the metal wall behind them. Rivulets of electricity sparked along the length of the wall, disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel. Lilly gasped.

  “Duck underneath the light,” he instructed as he settled his hat back on his head, crouched down, and kept moving forward.

  Her heart was pounding out a loud tattoo in her throat. She swallowed hard past it and pulled herself together to follow him.

  “If you’re lucky enough to live long enough to have children,” he continued, “you spend the rest of your life fearing they won’t grow up.”

  His comment gave her reason to wonder, exactly what would life with Colt be like if they were to survive this machine and Rathe? Would he not want children? Would he give up hunting? No. She knew him well enough to know he’d never do that. So would she be the woman waiting at home alone fo
r news she’d been widowed, or would she be in the battle by his side? By his side, definitely, she decided. She huffed with exertion and fear. “And here the Darkin are the ones believing they alone are hunted.”

  “I wish.” Colt pushed back his Stetson, and for once the shadow moved enough that Lilly could see his eyes clearly. They were determined, but also held a deep sadness, a sadness she’d never heard him voice. “I’ll tell you a little secret. My mother never wanted me to be a Hunter.”

  The news was unexpected and made her heart twinge. The softness she glimpsed in his features made her imagine what he’d looked like as a boy. A bright boy, she imagined, and it made her love him all the more. He’d had parents who truly cared for him, who hadn’t seen him as a means to an end. Yet in the end he was nearly as alone and isolated as she. “Why?”

  He cupped the back of his neck with his hand and rubbed it. “Ma saw what the men in our family were up against.” He gave a mirthless little chuckle. “Hunters aren’t known for having long life spans. Guess she was just hoping one of us would survive the life.”

  “Well, with this kind of thing lying about, I’m sure I can understand the shortened life span,” she replied.

  Colt turned to her, stepping closer, his chest nearly pressed against hers, making her heart stutter a beat, then beat harder to catch up. “You know, if it weren’t for the Gates of Nyx being opened, we wouldn’t have to do this. Any of this. You could have been just a woman and I could have been just a man.”

  “And we never would have met,” she finished for him.

  “But if we are the Chosen, won’t it end all this anyway, I mean, if the prophecies are right?”

  He moved closer still, the blue of his eyes sparkling, his breath heated on her cheek. Lilly backed up against the wall and he placed the flat of his large hand on the wall beside her shoulder. “If you are truly the Chosen,” she said, her voice so soft it was nearly a whisper.

  He inhaled next to her ear, pressing a kiss just below her earlobe, causing everything inside her to tighten. “If I am truly the Chosen ...” His words rumbled husky and deep in a way that made her shiver.