They were coming after us.
“We go off the trail.”
Gabriel’s voice cut through the silence, and I realized that I had been holding my breath, as if fearing that the Runners would somehow hear me if I breathed.
He reached for my uncle’s glasses and tucked them away in his pocket. Over the years I had wondered where Seamus had gotten such an expensive piece of equipment. Binoculars had all but disappeared over the last decade, along with REI, G.I. Joe’s and Cabela’s. Salt water was hell on optics, and to my knowledge, a pair of this quality was rare indeed. Well worth killing for. At least to the right person. A person like a Runner. And Gabriel Black was a Runner. He had already taken them from me. I could only hope he wouldn’t feel the need to kill me to make the transfer of ownership final. I glared up at him. “Thief,” I said under my breath.
He whistled low for Max, who like always had run ahead, scouting, sniffing, protecting. And with a tug on my wrist we stepped off the deer trail into the dense greenery. Heavy cedar boughs hung over a carpet of moss, and my world darkened a notch as what little sun disappeared.
Max took the lead, crashing through ferns and grass and leaves. On another day, it might have been just Max and me out on a winter’s walk.
“Why hide, Gabriel?” I asked, trying to keep up with his long strides. “These are your people. Your ‘tribe,’ as you Runners like to say.”
He pressed ahead, setting a grueling pace, and if I didn’t want my arm ripped from the socket, I had no choice but to keep up.
“Bastard,” I muttered.
“Like I said, Blue, I don’t share.”
“Oh, yeah, that so explains it. I guess this is your idea of a date.” No reply. I kicked a rock at his back. It bounced off his shoulder; he didn’t seem to feel it, thus, no bruise. Damn it. I sighed and said, “And me without anything to wear.”
He stopped so abruptly I smashed into his broad back. He turned and looked at me with those black eyes, narrowing his gaze like a wolf to a lamb.
“I don’t think you need anything to wear, Blue. In fact, given what I’ve seen, I’d prefer it that way.”
Heat flooded my cheeks and I was speechless. I mean, really, what could I say? That I preferred him naked too? Laid out and filleted, gutted like a fish? The thought cheered me up.
He turned again, stomping through the growth, tugging me along like a pull toy. “And quit with the rocks,” he said over his shoulder. I gave him the finger. Guess it was official: We were just not getting along.
A siren cut through the trees and I quickened my pace, now walking almost side by side with my captor. I was worried that the devils below would catch up. And they would, because besides the sirens, I could hear dogs barking.
A lot of dogs.
Runners bred and trained their own special breed. Think pit bull meets rottweiler meets wolf hybrid. The dogs were famous throughout the islands. They were trained to track, hunt, and kill. That was all. The dogs weren’t dogs at all, but monsters, lethal weapons, bred to be as sadistic as their owners. At this point I had to admit that, given the choice—me verses a platoon of Runners and their pets, or a one-on-one with Gabriel Black—I liked my second option better. Seamus had taught me to play poker when I was seven, and by nine, I was beating him soundly. Calculating odds was my talent, and as near as I could tell, Gabriel might be holding the overcards right now, meaning the cuffs and the knife, but he should never underestimate my own hole cards. After all, I could slit a throat in three seconds, slice a tendon in under two. And trust me, Gabriel Black or any other Runner scum didn’t want to see my “all in” move.
We broke through the wooded darkness into a small clearing at the top of Cady Mountain. Below I could see the crescent shape of Griffin Bay and the angry whitecaps stirring more trouble into an already ruined day.
Somewhere down there, hidden among rocks and brush, was my kayak, handmade of deer hide and cedar. The little boat was sleek and fast, but only on seas made of glass. Today, with swells and wind, the boat would trudge and plow like molasses in winter. Capsizing was also a distinct possibility. And that was plan B. Great, Blue. Just great.
I brought my hand up to shield my eyes, forgetting for a moment that my wrist was cuffed to Gabriel’s. His large hand blocked my view, and in frustration I socked him hard with my free fist in the shoulder. Gabriel raised a brow in question.
“Don’t give me that look, tough guy. I’m cuffed to you, for fuck’s sake. Cuffed!”
“That mouth, Blue.” Gabriel frowned as he looked over my head, listening to a series of barks and howls. I had the distinct impression that he’d just dismissed me, bad language and all. And I hated being ignored.
“So what about my mouth, Gabriel? It’s gonna what, get me in trouble? Like being cuffed to a Runner and being hunted by an army of them and their hounds from hell isn’t trouble enough? What are you gonna do, tough guy? Wash my mouth out with soap?” My voice rose as a trace of hysteria joined my normal pissed-off tone. It wasn’t my fault. I was finding out that Gabriel Black just brought out the best in me.
My world turned upside down.
No, really. Upside down.
Gabriel had swung me up and over his head like a proverbial sack of potatoes in a move that I wouldn’t have thought possible with cuffs on. Great. He was a contortionist too. I hung over his shoulder and he charged down the slope of the mountain with a speed and agility I’d not thought possible for a man his size. I had no choice but to hold on. It was a long drop from his six-foot-two frame, and I sure didn’t want him to go all caveman on me and drag me behind him.
“I can run on my own,” I shouted at him. “Just do the right thing and take the cuffs off.” He ignored me, of course, and I guess I had to agree: It was damn hard to hold a conversation at this angle, much less make demands.
The ground blurred and twisted beneath me, a blend of ferns and sand and rocks. I felt like an idiot, and Max obviously agreed, racing back and forth to check on me as if seeing me hanging upside down were a novelty of some kind.
A siren blared. Closer. Longer. Max paused as the baying of dogs sliced through the air. Max might try to defend us, but he’d be way outnumbered, and the thought of those mutant mutts ripping and tearing into my dog scared me. I started to encourage Gabriel.
“Run faster, you moron,” I yelled, beating my free fist on his back to get his attention. “They’re gaining on us.” Okay. So I wasn’t so good at encouragement. Call it tough love. Still, maybe it was my imagination, but he did seem to pick up the pace.
Gabriel stumbled down the last stretch into pebbles and sand. The beach.
He swung me down beside him, and we both turned to stare at the stream of men and dogs breaking through the clearing above us. Who knew evil could be so fast?
“This way,” Gabriel said as he pulled me toward the water, where now I could see our destination clearly. A sleek black-hulled sailboat bobbed in the waves. With two masts, it was a ketch rig, narrow in the beam, about thirty-two feet long. The boat was as sexy and sleek as its owner.
Sexy? Who thinks of sexy at a time like this? When had this man turned me into a pervert? Sexy, my ass. I kicked his shin.
“Damn it, Blue.” He reached down and rubbed his leg. “Stop with the theatrics already. I’m trying to save your life.”
“Don’t be a wuss. I just wanted to get your attention.”
“Try asking.”
“Next time, tough guy. Now, what’s the plan? How do we get to your little boat out there?”
“Little?”
What was it with guys? Call their toys little and all of a sudden you had an injured male ego. Like I was talking about his personal equipment or something. Which, by the way, I’d seen so up close and personal that the thought made me blush. I mean, come on, there was nothing little about it. The man was amazing.
Heat flared in my cheeks as the visual hit my brain, and I quickly found something fascinating to look at on my boots.
&nbs
p; “You doing okay? You look flushed.”
Okay. The jury was in: Gabriel Black had turned me into a pervert for real. Great. Just great.
Gabriel motioned to the shoreline, and, not having any choice in the matter, I followed his lead. As we approached I saw my kayak. It had been moved and now sat ready to launch in the unwelcoming sea.
I had built the boat when I was a kid; Seamus hadn’t helped, but instead stood watching and criticizing each and every phase along the way. But I was stubborn and I built the boat my way. Strong, durable, fast. I built it with one thing in mind: to escape him. Little did I know that the time would never come. It was Seamus who had left first—left me alone to find him gutted and bleeding and dying on this very beach.
The boat held two, and Max made three. It wouldn’t be easy, but maybe if Max was still for once, we could balance him just so, and maybe I could slip the cuff and shove Gabriel overboard. I mean, he did look good wet, and maybe—
“Good work, Black.”
We both jerked around to the raspy, low voice. A voice that sounded like its owner had been gargling with nails and rinsing with sand. A voice that sounded mean and scary and so unlike Gabriel’s silken whispers.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to keep the bitch for yourself. Of course, Indigo wouldn’t be happy about that.”
Indigo? I looked questioningly at Gabriel. He stood silent and unreadable, as always.
My heart automatically kicked into high gear and thudded against my chest. I hadn’t been this close to a Runner since the night I’d been attacked. And now I was looking at three of them, not more than an arm’s length away.
The men were huge, all three taller than Gabriel. Raspy Voice had long, tangled black dreads that he’d knotted and woven with seashells and shards of beach glass. He had a massive, serrated shark’s-tooth necklace, and long vertical scars ran down the left side of his face. He wore a coat similar to Gabriel’s but much worse for the wear. The bloodstains were hard to miss. So were the twin blades he held in each hand.
Gabriel shrugged and reached into his inner pocket and produced a key. I shook my head. My arrogance from the night before had gotten the better of me. I hadn’t even taken the time to hide the key. I’d just left it on the counter, so sure was I he’d never reach it. Stupid, Blue, whispered the voice of Seamus in my head. Stupid. Gabriel proceeded to open the cuff on his hand. So this was it. He was just going to hand me over to these three monsters. So much for not sharing.
“Coward,” I whispered.
He looked at me and raised that questioning dark brow of his, and with one more tug, I was sitting on the stern of my little boat, handcuffed to an exposed beam that had rotted through the leather.
“Not that I’d blame you, Black.” The man pushed past Gabriel and ran a blade lightly down my cheek. “She’s a looker, all right. Look at them blue eyes.” He pointed the tip of his knife at my pupil and I refused to blink. He lowered the blade and added, “Scrawny, though. Still…” He reached out and squeezed my breast through my Gore-Tex jacket. “She’s got enough meat on her for one good ride. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He pushed his scarred and ruined face near mine and he smiled, showing brown and decaying teeth. His breath smelled rank and rotting, like death.
I’d had enough.
Maybe it was the “scrawny” comment. Or most likely the uninvited hand on my breast might have done it. Not that I’d invited many hands to touch my breasts. Okay. None that I could think of.
Whatever.
I kneed him hard in the groin. I gave it my all, and he went down with a thud like a sack of cement mix. I stood, my cuffed hand lifting my tiny boat off the sand, and kicked him hard in the ribs, wishing like hell I were wearing a pair of those steel-toed boots instead of the rubber skull ones. I wanted to do some real damage. I stomped on a bent knee with my heel and heard a sickening crunch. The man howled in pain.
Max flew past me and launched at a second Runner, sending all one hundred and twenty pounds at him. The man went down, but not before slicing Max’s shoulder. Max yelped but continued with the attack, tearing and ripping at the Runner’s throat just like I knew he could. But knowing it and seeing it were two distinctly different things. And if I lived, I’d never look at my Max the same way again.
Gabriel had the third Runner, a huge, heavily tattooed bald man, in a death grip. He’d put my bowie knife to good use: It was embedded in the man’s heart.
Blood was everywhere, and my mind flashed on Seamus on this same beach, surrounded by so much blood. My legs went weak and I sank into the sand on my knees and tried not to be sick. My vision blurred as the nightmare of eleven years ago pushed to the forefront, taking over my mind. I felt faint. Not now, Blue. Please, God, help me—not now. I squeezed my eyes shut.
I was being jerked up by the arm as Gabriel unlocked the cuffs.
“Hang on, Blue. I’ll get you out of this.”
I wanted to tell him I didn’t need saving. I wanted to tell him I wasn’t a damsel in distress. But I did, and I was. And right now there was nothing to be done for it.
He pushed me into the front of my kayak, handed me a paddle, and pushed the boat off with his foot. I hooked the surf and, with an expertise honed by years of repetition, I turned the boat out to sea. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see Gabriel kneel and snap Raspy Voice’s neck. My stomach lurched, and I saw Max wading into the surf.
I had no intention of leaving my dog behind. Never had. I whistled and paddled the boat parallel along the shore. I paddled in, rubbing the bottom of the boat against underwater pebbles. I glanced at the approaching army of men and dogs, now way too close. The blare of sirens and shouts and barks was deafening, and I frantically grabbed for Max.
But I’d been concentrating on the wrong threat. So consumed with injured Max, I’d forgotten about Gabriel Black, the biggest threat of all.
Gabriel jumped into the back of my tiny boat, settling into the second seat like it was made for him. He whistled for Max, who went willingly. I couldn’t help feeling Max was a lamb being led to slaughter. This boat was made for two. Only two. Three would be nearly impossible. In seas like this, it was suicide to attempt it. Gabriel Black had to go.
Gabriel reached for Max, grabbing him by his collar. The frayed series of old knots stretched and Max slipped out of his collar darting toward me. I reached out for my dog, only to hear Gabriel command him back. I watched as Gabriel bent his head to the dog as if communicating. Somehow, Max calmed.
“Now go.” Gabriel boomed the order, and Max turned and ran to the shore, ran into the waiting danger, not away from it.
“Max, no!” I cried out. “Come.” Max paused, looked at me, and whined that signature whine of his, and my heart broke.
“Go.” Gabriel had the last word as Max, with a final look toward me, ran from the shore straight into the oncoming danger. A dozen or more Runner dogs broke rank and raced to meet him.
Gabriel pushed off with his foot, and with a forceful thrust he sent us into the surf and swells, gliding into the sea.
Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I lost sight of Max when we dipped into a swell.
“You bastard, that was my dog,” I turned and screamed at Gabriel. I raised my paddle in anger and he caught it easily, twisting it from my wrist like it was a toothpick.
He pushed the paddle into the angry gray waters and we forged ahead toward the ketch rig and safety. Safety for us, but not for Max.
I struggled to see the shore, but the waves and swells blocked my view. I glared at Gabriel. If I didn’t hate him before, I sure hated him now.
“My dog!” I yelled, not ashamed of my tears. “You’ve just killed my dog, you Runner scum.”
Gabriel Black dug the paddle toward the port side of the boat, hitting the waters with force and purpose. He looked at me with sadness in his eyes.
“Not your dog, Blue. My dog. I left him behind five years ago when I first found you.”
Ch
apter Six
I hung on while Gabriel used his strength to paddle and fight our way through an unwilling sea. Waves washed over the bow of my little boat, soaking both of us, weighing us down, making our journey hard and dangerous, almost impossible.
Almost.
At last, we smashed into the black hull of Gabriel’s boat, and okay, I had to admit, it did look bigger close up. Maybe he didn’t deserve the “little” comment, but now, after Max? Hell. He deserved a lot more.
Gabriel grabbed a line he’d stowed in the shell of my kayak and knelt on the deck, reaching up to loop it on a cleat. The water was too choppy to tie it off, and I heard the sea laugh as it tossed and bounced us like a cork. Gabriel managed to grab the stanchions and hoist himself up and over, landing safely on his teak deck. And now it was my turn.
Pulling the boat alongside, he straddled the stanchions and reached down for the front of my coat collar, plucking me out of my boat like I was no more than an errant feather. I went airborne, flying over the steel stanchions and into Gabriel’s arms. He lost his balance and almost dropped me. I saw a glint of silver as the handcuffs flew overboard when his coat pocket caught on a stanchion and ripped away. He crashed hard on the deck, flat on his back. I landed on top of him.
My forehead slammed into his for what had to be a record-breaking head butt. Pain shot through my skull when I tried to raise my head, and I saw white spots and blue stars. I laid my head down on his broad chest and had a déjà vu moment.
The thundering of his heartbeat became overwhelmed by the thundering of his voice. “Damn it, Blue. Why is everything with you so hard?”
I moaned. “Why is everything with you so painful?”
I raised my head, glaring into those black eyes. “Look, tough guy, it’s not like I asked for this little getaway cruise. And I can’t help it that your sea legs aren’t working. You pretty much suck as a pirate, you know it? If I were you, I’d stick to being a cabin boy.”
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