“What? What the hell are you talking about?”
“There’s a lot you need to know… come with me, my Commander can explain everything,” he muttered dejectedly.
“You didn’t escape from the Union, did you?”
“I did but it was several years ago… I didn’t lie I was just… economical with the truth,” he murmured, sulkily picking at the blades of grass in front of him.
“And your brother? Were you being economical with that?”
“No… he’s dead. Murdered by the king.” He ended on a whisper and Quinn could feel the pain permeating the air as the words fell from his mouth. She paused for a moment but refused to comfort him. He had lied to her, almost gotten her killed and worst of all, gotten in the way of saving her sister.
“Where have they taken Amira?”
“I told you already, they will transport her directly to the king. He likes to… meet… all of his new acquisitions personally. See their powers… decide whether they are worth further investigation,” the hatred in his voice was obvious and it echoed her own.
“Will she?”
“Will she what?”
“Be worth it?”
“If she has the healing touch, like you said… definitely.”
“That’s good, right? She won’t be killed,” Quinn concluded, a plan forging in her mind.
“Not right away, anyway,” he muttered with no semblance of sugar-coating. It angered her… not his indifference, she didn’t care about that, but the matter of fact way in which he casually gave Amira a death sentence. Losing her temper she stalked closer, a dark shadowy tendril leaping from her finger and wrapping itself around his throat as she raised her hand level with his face. He gasped, his green eyes bulging in shock and horror, the expression she had grown accustomed to, as she raised her hand and he rose from the ground with it.
“Listen to me carefully because I will only say this once. My sister will survive. I am going to save her. I am not your leader, I’m nobody’s leader. When I have Amira back, we will disappear. I don’t care about your cause or your troubles. I only care about Amira. Understand?” she waited for a response, his face turning quickly from red to purple as he tried to nod against her power. Satisfied that her message had been received she released him and he fell to the floor, his hands gripping his throat as the dark tendril retreated back into her body. She felt it coil itself around her bones, boiling her blood with the intoxicating promise of violence and death. Though, from the outside, it may have seemed as though she had complete control, she didn’t. It was a delicate balancing act that she had never truly mastered. Instead she kept it on a tight leash just in case. In truth she had no idea exactly what she was capable of, she only knew that her gifts scared the hell out of her. A fact she did her best to hide from the man on the ground attempting to talk to her around his bruised throat.
“You’re making… a mistake. You won’t get… anywhere near him…”
“We’ll see about that. Don’t follow me, I really will kill you next time.” She turned on her heel and walked back the way they had come, the leaves swallowing her form as she disappeared into the treeline, leaving Kieron to cough and choke on the marks her abilities had made.
Chapter 3
Kieron counted his steps carefully, avoiding the traps that lay hidden beneath the dirt covered floor in the old sewer tunnels beneath Monkshood. His throat was still aching, which had surprised and invigorated him. He was a fast healer, always had been, but the scarlet-haired immortal had done such a number on him that it had taken over an hour for him to raise enough energy to move from his position on the forest floor. It was almost as though that power of hers had stolen something from him… like some sort of leech. Eventually, he made it to the opening and swiftly placed his hand up to the protruding blade, slicing his skin on the silver. He winced as his blood began to flow down the metal edge, pooling into a small rivet in the seemingly plain, wooden, spherical doorway. When the wood had drank enough of his lifeblood he heard the sharp creaking of metal on metal as the wooden door rolled aside and revealed the hideout he had known as home for the last five years. He stepped inside and the door rolled shut behind him as he made his way past various workstations until he made it to the control room. It was small miracle, this place, he thought as he walked by his brethren. Not only had they commandeered and sealed off a sizeable portion of the sewerage system but they had created a thriving community beneath Monkshood that stretched beyond the village’s borders. Men and women had occupations and duties, some made weapons, some made clothes, some cooked, some foraged the forests and scouted for Union guards, others took on more clandestine duties and spied for the rebellion. That was his occupation. Everybody had one and that was what he had chosen. Whilst it was a miracle he did not much care for the cave like existence so many saw as a refuge. He wanted freedom, always had, but now that he had blown his mission of procuring Quinn Hunter he had a feeling he would be on toilet cleaning duties for the foreseeable future. Still, he did have some good news to share.
“Mother,” he nodded to her as he walked into the control room. She was as intimidating to him now as she had been when he was a child but he had learnt to hide it better in his later years.
“You have returned… but not with your quarry,” she ended with a sigh. It wasn’t a question. Her abilities, like his own were rooted in emotion. Where he could calm them, she could feel them all. She was an Empath though it certainly hadn’t provided her with a similar personality trait. She quirked a dark eyebrow at him as though she knew what he was thinking and he had the grace to look guilty. “What happened?” she asked, running her fingers through her dark hair, her warm brown eyes belying her irritation.
“She got away,” he muttered, almost petulantly. It was always amazing to him how she could reduce him to a mere child with only her presence and yet she could and did… frequently.
“I gathered… care to expand?” she murmured sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. Strange… if Quinn hadn’t been so adamant to get away and had met his Mother, they probably would have been fast friends. Or they would have killed each other inside of ten minutes. It was a toss-up.
“Jackson’s soldiers attacked her camp. I arrived as they were leaving. They took her sister. I couldn’t see her within the taken so I tracked her through the forest and found her half a click away. She was hunting. I pretended to be an escaped captive of the King and she realised that her clan was in danger. She found her sister gone. I knocked her unconscious and used my gifts to subdue her. It worked for a while but she is strong, Mother. Union soldiers moved past our position and she attacked, though they hadn’t seen us. She took out all four without using her abilities… it was really something…” Kieron paused, his mind replaying the moment when her knife had whizzed past him, inches from his head and rooted into the large soldier’s heart. She had been right when she said she had saved his life. His Mother cleared her throat and he realised he had been silent for longer than was acceptable in the eyes of his commander. “Uh… I tricked her and had her at knifepoint, trying to bring her back here but… her gifts… Mother she truly is the one we have been searching for.”
“How do you know?”
“Her gifts… fire and shadow…”
“Light and dark… it’s possible. Regardless, it’s irrelevant now seeing as she isn’t here,” he found himself standing straighter as his Mother berated him, like the soldier he was trained to be. She was right, he had failed miserably. Still, there was the possibility of redemption.
“I plan to go after her again. I think I can get her to listen to me, Mother.”
“Where is she heading?”
“Union City… she is going after her sister.”
“Nonsense. Her sister will be long dead before she reaches the city walls.”
“Perhaps not, she has the healing touch. Jackson could use that,” he stated and his Mother’s eyes whipped to his.
“Yes. So could we… alri
ght, someone will go after the girl and bring her back here. We can use the sister as leverage to get her to assist us. If we are able to recover the girl, even better. Having a healer on our side could turn the tides in battle.”
“With all due respect, Mother, I don’t think it will be that simple. She doesn’t want our help. I can talk her into allowing me to accompany her to the City, gain her trust, she may help us then but it will be on her terms, not yours… not ours.” He corrected himself swiftly when his Mother narrowed her gaze scathingly at his remark.
“You won’t be doing anything. I anticipated your failure and I am expecting a visitor shortly.”
“What? Mother, you can’t be-,” he began his cheeks reddening in a mixture of shame and anger.
“Kieron, this man is a Hunter. He works for money and nothing else, he has no loyalties and no ties to the Union. He is completely expendable. You, my son, are not. If she is as powerful as you say, then it won’t matter if she kills him. It also won’t matter if he dies at the hands of Jackson’s men as they chase after her.”
“Wow, you always this sentimental, lady?” A deep, gravelly voice called from behind him and he swung around, his gift leaping out of his body to calm the intruder. He felt it bound towards the man, a gruff looking, bounty hunter type with a scar down one side of his cheek and odd, amber coloured eyes surrounded by thick chestnut brown eyelashes to match his short cropped hair and slightly reddish facial hair. He began to relax a little as his gift wrapped around the man but that was wear it sat. It had absolutely no effect on him, as though it was being repelled from getting closer to his body, like a magnet resisting its kin.
“What the hell are you?”
“I’m a man looking to get paid. Who’s the target?”
“A woman, a very powerful woman. Kieron can give you her description. She will be heading for Union City.” His mother interceded before Kieron could get a word out.
“Fine. Alive or dead?”
“What?” Kieron asked, his irritation mounting. This guy was an asshole and he was rendered practically impotent.
“Do you want her alive or dead?” the man asked nonchalantly, though a small smile was creeping over his mouth. He knew he was annoying him and clearly took pleasure in it. Asshole.
“Alive… obviously. Besides you won’t get close enough. Mother, she is too powerful for him. Her gifts-,” Kieron started, turning to his Commander.
“I don’t know if you noticed, little man, but gifts have no effect on me. Like yours,” the man raised his head a little, as though he was tasting the air, “calming gift is it? I hate you emotional types. Messing with things you have no right to. I’ll get your girl and return her here. The price is ten.”
“Ten thousand? Mother you can’t be serious!”
“Hush, Kieron. Give him the description so he can be on his way. And Mr…” she paused, looking at the Hunter expectantly.
“Slade. Call me Slade,” he muttered, seemingly irritated. Kieron understood that much, his Mother could make the most religious denounce their faith and praise the hells out of fear alone. She had that effect on people, no gift necessary.
“Mr Slade, this girl is not to be harmed. You will return her to me, alive and well, or you will find yourself an enemy of the rebellion. Understood?”
“Yeah, yeah, got it. So what’s she look like.”
Kieron huffed but gave a detailed description of Quinn Hunter and her abilities. Though, to his own discredit he did leave out her aptitude for throwing pointy objects. Perhaps he would get lucky and Quinn would despatch Slade swiftly leaving his Mother with no choice but to send him back into the field.
“Got it. Red head huh? Been a while since I seen one of those.” He paused for a moment, seemingly to consider something, “I’ll have her back here in three days.” With that, Slade left the control room, the silver weapons lining his belt clinking in the soft firelight as he went.
“I don’t like him.” Kieron sneered, watching the hulking form of the Hunter leave the underground base the same way he had entered.
“You don’t have to like him. Stop sulking, I have a task for you.”
Kieron raised an eyebrow and turned to his Mother, “Toilet duty?”
“Don’t be so petulant. It’s unbecoming. No, if this girl truly is the one we have been looking for then when she is returned here, there are things we will need. I have a list and each item needs to be carefully procured. Do not raise suspicion. We do not want to tip our hand to the King.” She held out a small piece of paper and he took it, quickly reading and memorising each item.
“And Kieron… don’t fail me again.”
He looked up under his lashes in irritation but said nothing. Instead he gave a swift nod, crumpled the paper and turned on his heel, tossing it into the fire as he left.
Chapter 4
“Well? Is it her?”
“I don’t know, Squidge… could be… they’re after a redhead.”
“Really! That’s great.”
“Don’t go getting your hopes up… it could be nothing.”
“Oh yeah, right. Because there are so many redheaded immortals with unspeakable gifts roaming the land. Hell, we could give up this line of questioning and just grab one from the nearest town,” she began, her illuminescent hairs flowing together in a floating pool as she tossed her head sarcastically. Slade watched her in amusement as she got more and more animated.
“Alright, alright… its sounds promising. But let’s say we find her and she is the one we need… we still have to convince her to help us.”
“She will, I know she will.”
“Yeah, well I don’t want you thinking we’re gonna make a new friend here. I know she is going to help us too but I’m not under the illusion that she’ll do it willingly,” he grumbled gruffly, his fingers reaching up to absent-mindedly stroke his scarred cheek.
“She will want to help us. Why wouldn’t she?”
“I can’t think of a reason, Squidge,” he finally muttered, a small smile forcing its way onto his face. Truth was, he knew what the world was like. What the people within it were like. Selfish and self-consumed. He had no doubt the red-haired immortal he had been looking for would be exactly the same. Still that wasn’t their primary concern right now. Finding her, was.
***********************
“Are you sure she went this way?”
“The rebels said she was heading for Union City,” Slade grumbled for the tenth time that hour and continued scouring the ground to pick up the tracks he had lost. As it was the immortal was fairly skilled in covering them. It had taken him well over an hour to pick up her trail once he had entered the forest and she had kept steadily ahead of him since. She had used grass and brush to hide her steps and hadn’t lingered in one stop for any surmountable length of time. Skilled, indeed. When he finally found a snapped twig hidden in the tall grass he began going through what he knew of the immortal he was after. She was an immortal like none he had heard of and in all honestly it made him suspicious. The rebel with Mummy issues had told him about the gifts she supposedly had but he could practically taste the awe in his voice. He thought maybe she had shown him some other ‘gifts’ whilst they were out in the wild together and he was still blinded by them. No-one was that powerful. Yet, the rebel had made it sound like he hadn’t seen anything of what she was truly capable of. It paid to be cautious, he guessed, stepping over rocks and fallen branches and picking up speed as her path became a little clearer. Other than her gifts and poor taste in friends he really didn’t know much about the woman he had been looking for since… well it had been a long time.
“You should eat,” a small, soft voice called from behind him.
“I’ll eat later, Squidge. I think I’m finally gaining some ground here.” Her soft voice fell silent once more and he felt the world was lonelier for it.
“Hey, remember that time we went camping? You were so tiny… your mother hated it, remember?”
“I r
emember… she said she’d rather have her teeth pulled than do it again,” she giggled and he smiled at the sound. It had been too long since he’d heard it.
“Yeah… she really did hate it, didn’t she? Why are the rebels after her?” she asked suddenly, her tone shifting from reminiscent to curious in less than a heartbeat.
“I don’t know, Squidge. I didn’t hear much of their discussion. Probably for her gifts. They’re just like the King in that way.” He ended on a growl. He didn’t care for either of them, the King or the rebellion. Both of them were just looking for power and ownership, one because he felt entitled and the other because they thought they could rule better. They both just used people for their own means, though. At least that’s how he saw it. Well, once this woman did what he needed her to, she was free to go her own way. He knew he would have to bear the wrath of the rebellion for failing in his bounty but it was worth it. If she could do what he’d been told she could do, he thought he wouldn’t much care what they did to him, as long as… no he couldn’t think like that. Hope… it was a terrible thing. The more you had, the more it destroyed you when it abandoned you. No, he just had to focus on the task ahead. That’s how he had survived the last six years; that was how he would continue to survive.
“It’ll be okay, you know.”
“I know, Squidge, I know,” he forced a smile, looking back, her beautiful face older and wiser than the last time he had really seen it. She had grown into a beautiful young woman and he hadn’t been there to see it. “You look so much like your Mother, you know?”
“Do I?” she asked excitedly, the melancholy that had oozed from her just moments ago disappearing in an instant. A full, toothy smile gracing her downturned lips.
“You do…” he stared a little longer, until it became too painful and he was forced to look away. As he did a delicious and long-forgotten smell reached his nose. He ducked low into the tall grass and crept towards it, his mouth watering.
Dancing with Shadows Page 3