Legacy

by A D Starrling

  ‘I was otherwise engaged, boy,’ came the gruff reply.

  Olivia’s rescuer muttered something under his breath.

  Her gaze moved to the dark pool spreading out from under the motionless assassin. The reality of all that had happened started to sink in. The images of the dead nuns rose before her eyes. She saw the abbess in her final moments once more and started to shake uncontrollably.

  The two men moved toward the bed. Olivia retreated against the headboard, eyes widening in panic, the metal bars digging into her back. They froze in their tracks.

  ‘It’s all right, child,’ said the stranger with the beard.

  His unruly brown hair curled slightly at his nape. He reached out toward her, his expression oddly gentle.

  There was a noise from the window. Olivia looked around and froze.

  The dark-eyed assassin was up on one elbow. An ugly expression distorted his features. Metal glimmered in his fingers.

  ‘Dammit!’ cursed her blue-eyed rescuer.

  He raised his left hand toward the man on the floor. Olivia caught a glimpse of a star-shaped mark on his skin.

  The dagger left the assassin’s grasp and hurtled through the air toward her.

  Time slowed.

  As if in a dream, Olivia saw the blade crumple a few feet from her face. A shadow blocked her sight.

  The knife glanced off the skin of the bearded man before thudding onto her lap. A sliver of blood stained a sharp edge on the distorted lump of metal where it had cut him. Crimson bled into the white sheet.

  The bearded man lowered his arm from where he had raised it protectively in front of her, swung the revolver up, and shot the assassin in the head.

  Flesh and bone crumpled beneath the bullet. A dark spray peppered the curtains behind the falling figure.

  Something wet flicked across Olivia’s face as the assassin’s body thudded onto the floorboards. She wiped her cheek with a trembling hand and stared at the red smear on her fingertips.

  A loud ringing filled her ears.

  ‘She’s gonna faint,’ one of her rescuers warned. She thought it was the man with the steel-blue eyes. ‘Hey! Stay with us!’

  They were the last words she heard before darkness claimed her.

  Chapter Five

  ‘I don’t think this is such a great idea.’

  Ethan Storm dragged his gaze from the dirt track visible in the headlights of the jeep and glanced over his shoulder at the unconscious woman in the back of the vehicle.

  They had covered the nun with a blanket and strapped her in securely with the seat belt. Her head lay against Asgard Godard’s coat, the thick padding cushioning her face from the window. Her skin remained deathly pale under the ambient starlight streaming through the glass and her chest moved almost imperceptibly with her breathing.

  Ethan had rarely seen anyone so fragile-looking. The nun looked like she would shatter if he so much as touched her.

  It was three in the morning. Less than an hour had elapsed since they had fled the scene of the mass killing at the Benedictine abbey deep in the desolate Utah peaks.

  A muscle jumped in Ethan’s cheek.

  The massacre of the nuns was one of the most singularly gruesome acts of butchery he had witnessed since he and Godard had started their covert mission against their enemy over four decades ago. Following their deadly clash with the soldiers who had committed the atrocity, Godard had dressed the sole survivor of the carnage in a plain summer dress he had found in the dresser of her bedroom, under the eaves of the Victorian mansion. He had cleaned the blood marks from the unconscious nun’s face and insisted on carrying her slender form to where they had hidden their four-by-four in the forest, a mile from the estate. Ethan had not objected; the expression on Godard’s face more than discouraged further discussion. If what the Bastian had told him proved to be true, his connection with the woman was incredibly significant.

  ‘We could not leave her there,’ said Asgard. ‘She does not possess the skills to survive on her own.’

  Ethan observed his companion’s brooding face with a frown before turning his attention back to the trail. ‘Okay, so we take her to the first safe town we find, give her money and a new ID, tell her to keep her head down, and go about our business.’

  The lack of response from the man beside him unnerved him like few things could.

  In the forty-odd years since he first met the Bastian Hunter, Ethan had come to learn some hard truths about his immortal associate. His extraordinary history aside, Asgard Godard was a scarily good tracker, an excellent shot, an astounding swordsman, and an incredibly stubborn bastard. Considering they had both been lone wolves before their fateful encounter in New Mexico all those decades ago, the Crovir immortal was surprised at how quickly and deeply the bonds of fellowship grew between them. It was the second longest relationship he had ever had with another living being in his one-hundred-and-eighty-odd years of existence. Still, there were times when he found himself curbing the urge to shake some sense into his friend. Like now, for instance.

  ‘We’ve always left the others we saved to fend for themselves, Asgard,’ Ethan said in a hard voice. ‘It’s tough enough doing what we do without having someone like her tagging along.’ His eyes shifted to the rearview mirror and the still figure under the blanket. His tone turned accusing. ‘I know there’s a bond between the two of you. That only makes matters twice as dangerous. Jonah is bound to be aware of the link.’ He hit the steering wheel with his fist. ‘Dammit, Asgard, you know as well as I do that she’ll only be a liability!’

  The older immortal rubbed the back of his neck and released a rueful sigh. ‘She doesn’t even know who or what she is, Ethan. And yes, I have no doubt that Jonah will try to find her again.’ His voice dropped to a low murmur. ‘She will not be lucky twice.’

  Ethan changed gears as they came to a turn. The land fell away to the right. Moonlight bathed the forested canyon beyond in muted shades of gray.

  ‘She won’t be able to keep up,’ he countered. ‘We’ll have to watch our backs and hers, constantly.’

  ‘She might surprise you,’ Asgard retorted. ‘If she possesses even half the talent of her forebears, she will be a force to be reckon—’

  The jeep rocked and juddered as they hit a pothole. Asgard cursed and steadied himself against the dashboard.

  Ethan clenched his jaw. They had taken one of the secluded tracks that wound its way up and over the mountain. From the state of the trail, it was only ever used by the rangers who patrolled the forests. The rough terrain was proving to be a challenge, even with the suspension on the jeep. A quick look at the map on his lap showed that they were still ten miles from a main road.

  The skin on the back of his neck prickled. He looked at the mirror.

  The nun was staring at him.

  Ethan stepped on the brakes, startled. The jeep skidded some fifteen feet across the exposed dirt before sliding to a halt in a spray of gravel.

  Asgard slammed back against the headrest with a harsh grunt. ‘What the devil—?’

  ‘She’s awake.’

  Ethan’s gaze remained locked on the figure in the back of the jeep. He could not have looked away if he had wanted to.

  Asgard turned in his seat.

  The woman blinked and shrank back under the blanket. Ethan felt the dark pull of her presence wane. It was only then that he realized he had been holding his breath. He inhaled shallowly and ignored the strange fluttering inside his skull.

  ‘Olivia?’ Asgard said gently. ‘It’s all right, child. You’re safe now.’

  The nun’s expression did not change. Her gaze darted to the inky landscape outside the window.

  ‘We’re headed out of the mountains,’ Asgard explained. ‘We need to lie low for a while. They will come after us—’

  For someone who had recently been the victim of a life-altering trauma and passed out, the nun could move pretty damn fast. She unclipped the seatbelt and slipped out of the vehicle in the bl
ink of an eye.

  ‘Olivia!’ Asgard shouted.

  He flung the passenger door open and ran into the night after her.

  ‘Shit!’ Ethan hissed.

  He grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment, yanked the handbrake on, and jumped out of the four-by-four.

  The vehicle had come to a stop on the verge of a steep drop. The Crovir immortal paused at the edge of the treeline and listened intently for a couple of seconds. The noise of something crashing through the undergrowth rose from the left. He headed that way.

  Tightly-packed trunks and dense vegetation materialized in the dancing light of the flashlight as he slid and staggered down the incline. The dead leaves and decaying matter covering the forest floor made the ground even more treacherous and he lost his footing twice, landing hard enough on his ass to bruise.

  He reached the bottom of the slope, staggered to a stop, and looked around wildly. The trickle of running water reached his ears above the sound of his harsh breaths. He swung the flashlight around and caught the glitter of a mountain brook carving a shallow gully ahead and to the left. Asgard’s voice came faintly from farther down the creek. Ethan bolted toward the sound.

  The channel gradually widened. He slipped and stumbled over the moss-covered rocks strewn across the embankment as he aimed for the Bastian immortal’s location. A shout rose in the distance. Alarm darted through Ethan at the fear lacing Asgard’s voice; there were very few things in this world that could scare the battle-scarred Bastian immortal. He accelerated, suddenly conscious that they had left their weapons in the jeep.

  Two figures came into view in the bed of the stream seconds later, frozen in the beam of the flashlight.

  Ethan lurched to a stop. His stomach dropped.

  The nun was standing on the brink of a yawning chasm. Water flowed over her feet and tumbled into the gaping black void behind her.

  She had lost one of her shoes. Tiny cuts and grazes dotted her arms and legs where the underbrush had slashed her skin. Her hairband had come loose, releasing strands of long, light blonde hair that framed her flushed face.

  Asgard stood stock still some five feet to her left, his body rigid with tension. ‘Olivia, don’t. You’ll fall.’

  His eyes flicked to the gulf behind her. The rush of a fast flowing river drifted up from far below.

  Ethan took a step forward. The nun’s head snapped around. She fixed him with a wild stare.

  His mouth went dry at the blind terror in her green eyes. She’s not thinking straight. She can’t even see us.

  ‘Olivia!’ he barked.

  She jumped, startled, and took a step back. Her heels came to rest bare inches from the edge of the ravine.

  ‘Goddamnit, boy!’ Asgard ground out. He scowled at Ethan. ‘What do you think—?’

  ‘Who—who are you?’ said the nun in a tremulous voice.

  She blinked rapidly, as if waking from a daze.

  Ethan felt the odd fluttering inside his head once more. The sensation was akin to a ripple dancing across his consciousness. He shook his head slightly and glanced at Asgard.

  The Bastian immortal gave no indication that he was experiencing a similar feeling.

  The nun suddenly gasped and paled.

  ‘Mother Margaret,’ she whispered in a tortured voice. Her hands rose to her lips. Tears shimmered in her eyes. Her gaze shifted between Ethan and Asgard. ‘Did that really happen? Are they all dead?’ Her voice rose to a shrill, desperate cry.

  Asgard hesitated. ‘Let’s get back to the jeep. We can—’

  ‘Answer me!’ she yelled. ‘Are they dead?’

  Ethan blinked and rocked back slightly on his heels. He saw Asgard shift out of the corner of his eye and exchanged a startled glance with his friend.

  This time, they had both felt it. An invisible force had just pushed lightly against them, like a gust of wind.

  Asgard straightened and squared his shoulders. A muscle worked in his cheek. ‘Yes. I’m afraid they are.’

  The nun went still. Her fingers dropped to the silver crucifix around her neck. She closed her eyes and clasped the thin cross tightly, as if it were her anchor in a world gone mad. A single tear spilled over and trickled down her cheek. She took a shuddering breath. Her eyelids fluttered open.

  ‘Who are you?’ she asked once more, her voice hardening.

  A bittersweet expression washed across Asgard’s face. His gaze remained locked on the woman’s face. ‘I am your uncle.’

  The nun’s eyes grew round. She stepped back unconsciously.

  Fear squeezed Ethan’s chest in a vice-like grip. He opened his mouth to shout out a warning.

  The nun’s right foot slipped over the brink of the gorge. A shocked sound left her lips.

  Ethan felt his body move.

  Asgard dove toward the nun and reached for her flailing arm. ‘Olivia!’

  We won’t catch her in time!

  The thought barely had time to form inside Ethan’s mind before he raised a hand toward the slender form drifting silently into the void. It was an impulse borne out of desperation.

  The fluttering returned ten-fold inside his skull. With it came the sharp, metallic taste of someone else’s fear and a frantic, faint cry.

  Help me!

  A roar filled Ethan’s ears. He gasped as heat exploded inside his chest. He felt his powers surge through his entire being and thought he saw his birthmark shimmer.

  The nun screamed.

  Consciousness returned slowly. The first thing Olivia noticed was the jolting. She blinked.

  A dark roof swam into focus above her. She studied it dazedly for a couple of seconds.

  She was in the back of the jeep again. Someone had covered her with a blanket and placed a coat under her head.

  She pushed up on one elbow and touched her forehead. A headache throbbed between her eyes. Voices registered faintly through the rush of blood pulsing through her ears. She looked toward the front of the vehicle.

  Two men sat in the front seats. A heated conversation was taking place between them.

  ‘For the last time, I don’t know how the hell I did it!’ hissed the driver.

  It was the man who had rescued her from the assassins who had stormed her bedroom. The glow from the vehicle’s dashboard highlighted sun-bleached strands in his short, brown hair. He changed gears and gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled fingers, muscles jumping in his toned, tanned forearms. She spotted faint dark lines making up the star-shaped mark on the back of his left hand.

  ‘Are you certain?’ said his companion doggedly.

  Olivia recognized the bearded figure who had claimed to be her uncle.

  Memories flooded her mind. The brutal events at the abbey rose before her eyes once more. A wave of blind panic threatened to choke the air from her throat.

  An unexpected surge of anger suddenly cut through her rising fear. Olivia gritted her teeth and concentrated on her breathing; she could not afford to let terror overwhelm her once more.

  It was almost a minute before the calming techniques drilled into her by the abbess pushed the last of the gory images away. Those techniques were the only way to stem the aftereffects of her curse. She licked her lips and glanced out of the windows.

  They were traveling at high speed down a dark road. An undulating, barren landscape stretched out to infinity on either side of the asphalt. The grayness of the sky up ahead highlighted distant hills. Bar the moon shining down on them from behind a bank of clouds, she could see no other lights.

  Olivia ran a trembling hand down her body. She recalled her brief conversation with the bearded man while they stood in the middle of the stream, deep in the woods she had run into blindly. The last thing she remembered was the paralyzing dread that had filled her body as she started to fall, followed by the equally shocking sensation of being snatched back sharply from the abyss. Apart from the superficial scratches and cuts she had received as a result of her wild race through the forest, she detected
no other injuries.

  The bearded man sat back in his seat. ‘It could be your powers are still evolving,’ he murmured. ‘Or your training is paying off.’

  The younger man grunted. ‘There’s the other thing.’ He glanced at his companion. ‘You felt it too, didn’t you? That wave of pressure, back at the creek?’

  The bearded man hesitated. ‘Yes.’

  She was wondering at their words when the Jeep’s driver sighed loudly.

  ‘Hey, you just going to sit there?’

  His hand dropped to the gearbox as they came to a shallow drop in the land. His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror.

  Olivia blinked. Had he heard her move above the sound of the engine?

  The bearded man turned in his seat and observed her with barely masked relief. ‘Hi.’

  His voice was low and gravelly.

  Olivia gulped. ‘Hi.’

  He passed her a canteen. She straightened in the seat and took it with a small, grateful nod. Her fingers shook as she twisted the cap and brought the rim to her lips. A tiny groan left her throat when cold water flooded her mouth. She drank greedily until her thirst was quenched.

  A ripple of awareness suddenly raced across her skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. She looked up and caught an amused stare in the mirror. Her rescuer with the steel-blue eyes was smiling faintly.

  ‘You must have a lot of questions,’ said the bearded man.

  His voice broke through the strange daze she found herself falling into as she gazed at the reflection of the man in the driver’s seat. Olivia dragged her eyes away and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Although trepidation still thrummed through her veins, she felt oddly at ease with these two strangers. They had already saved her twice, during this one night that had turned her entire world upside down.

  She dipped her chin in acquiescence.

  The bearded man gazed at the lightening sky on the horizon. ‘We’re not far from a town. I shall tell you everything you wish to know once we’re in a secure location.’

  Olivia hesitated. ‘Your name?’

  ‘I am Asgard Godard.’