If the wolves do find us, they’ve got two options. The first one is a direct assault, in which case they’ll be met by my swords and Lance’s pistol spitting fire. The entrance to the storm shelter is narrow. Only one person at a time can get through, and even if the wolves rush the door, Lance could perforate quite a few of them with his pistol.
But the smarter option would be to seal us in here and turn it into a siege. Cover up the air vents if they can be found, choke us out, or make us come out to them.
If they can find us.
The shuffling outside intensifies, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Tym cross his legs and take a meditative pose, trying to stay calm. It’s the best option right now, and I lay a hand on his shoulder, giving him a supportive nod.
The shuffling continues for a little bit, but then the footsteps move off, and the shelter becomes totally quiet other than the sound of our breathing.
I reach over, picking up the paper and writing again. Well?
Lance listens, then shakes his head. I don’t hear anything . . . but we can’t be sure.
Time draws out like a blade, tension pulsing through every heartbeat. Brandon takes a piece of paper and starts writing something to himself, refusing to share his thoughts, while Tym continues to meditate, his eyes closed and his legs crossed while he deals with his emotions.
Lance at least seems normal, but I can feel the fear and frustration he’s feeling as well. Going into a storm shelter to hide is the last resort of ideas, but without knowing more about our enemies, it’s the only idea we have available.
I can feel sweat trickle down my neck, and I wonder if maybe it’s getting warm in here, and if so, if it’s because the air vents have been blocked. Finally, Lance comes over to me and whispers in my ear. “We’re fine, Cerena. Listen, I don’t need sleep like you do, so close your eyes. Try to relax, even if you can’t. I promise, I’ll have my pistols on that door at all times, and if shit kicks off . . . you’ll know it.”
I want to tell him I’m strong enough to keep going, to keep the watch, but instead, I nod, patting him on the cheek. “You sure?”
He nods, and I sag, finally admitting that the tension is wearing me down. I’ve been awake nearly two whole days now, other than the shuffling ‘walking naps’ that I’ve taken while letting someone else set the pace as we hiked today.
I can’t keep it up.
“Okay,” I whisper, heading over to the backpack and lying down. The ground’s cold, but my new traveling coat’s enough, and I lay my head on the bag, closing my eyes. I don’t think I can fall asleep. I’m too worried about the werewolves, but it steals up on me, and before I can even count to ten in my head, I’m out.
“Cerena . . . wake up.”
My eyes snap open and I surge forward, but before I can strike out blindly, a pair of hands catches me, and I realize it’s Lance who’s shaking me lightly and smiling.
“Wha . . . is it the wolves?”
“No, it’s morning,” he says, grinning. “I already checked outside. The sun’s gonna break the horizon in about fifteen minutes and the views are clear. Come on, Tym and Brandon are already refilling the water bottles.”
“How long was I out?” I ask as he helps me up. “I didn’t think I’d fall asleep so hard.”
“You got about six hours or so,” Lance says before chuckling. “By the way, you’re quite beautiful when you sleep. You don’t wear that ‘fuck off’ look you normally do when you’re awake.”
“I wear a fuck off look?” I ask, and Lance grins wider. “What?”
“I said normally. And your sleep face isn’t as sexy as your O-face . . . but I still like it. Come on, I had to cheat at Roshambo to get to wake you up, so let’s put some miles on the boots here.”
“Good deal. And Lance?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. While we move today, let’s try to work out a plan on sleep and movement. I can’t go that long without rest again.”
Lance nods and picks up the backpack, slipping the straps over his shoulders. “Don’t worry. I think sleep might be the least of our worries. And if you need to release some tension before sleep, I know a few ways to help.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I know you do.”
Chapter 28
Cerena
“Do you see them again?”
Lance, who seems to have the eyes of a hawk to go along with his shooting skill, nods from the top of the windmill we’ve found. “Yeah, shadowing us to the south. Smaller group, but still there.”
Lance climbs down, but we don’t move right away. Instead, I sit down on a nearby rock, sipping at my bottle of water.
Whether it’s been by luck or by our making a mistake, two days ago we were spotted. We haven’t been attacked though, but instead, we’ve been shadowed the entire time. It’s unnerving.
“So, how many do you think there are?” Brandon asks, adjusting his grip on the prybar from the barn. I was surprised when he decided to keep it as a weapon. The thing’s five feet long and weighs more than Tym’s hammers. But it’s kept him shut up, at least, and he doesn’t complain as he carries the pointed piece of steel along, half the time using it like a walking stick, the rest of the time resting it across his shoulders.
I have to admit, it could be a scary ad hoc weapon. In addition to a slightly blunted pointy end that was probably used by the workers to break up heavy clods of dirt or clay, the other end splits off into double-clawed wedges that I assume were used for levering things around the farm. Whatever the case, I could easily see that buried in a wolf’s skull and causing permanent damage.
“Still low numbers,” Lance says, putting his bottle away. “Six, maybe eight. No more.”
“A scouting and harassment party,” I reply, standing up. “Each time you see them, they’re fewer.”
“What are they doing?” Brandon asks, making Lance scoff. “What, fuckhead? I’m trying to be polite here.”
“I can tell. They’re runners,” Lance replies. “Lucian’s probably got his main group chilling out at some point between here and Solace. There’s no way he’s so stupid he couldn’t figure out where we’re heading.”
“So they’re there to keep him up to date on our movements and big enough to keep us from taking the most direct path to the city,” I finish for Lance, pulling the backpack on. It’s lighter now. We’ve eaten our way through at least half of the food we were able to get in Barter Town, and pretty soon, we’re going to have to start scrounging for food, which will slow us down even further.
“Why not just attack us?” Brandon asks as we start off again. “If we can see them, they can see us.”
“They can see us, but they don’t know our strength,” I explain as we set off. “They probably know by now that at least one of us is a Hunter, and they know we’ve got at least one Gauss gun. Frankly, if we had three, I would be heading for them with all guns blazing. But there’s one other thing holding them back.”
“What?” Brandon asks as I steer us all to the right, around the upcoming hillock and hopefully gaining a little bit of separation from the shadowing wolves.
“You.”
“Huh?”
Tym growls, putting his hammers on his shoulders. “They want you alive.”
Brandon stops, blinking for a little bit before realization dawns on his face and he comes jogging after us. “Wait . . . they think I’m a hostage?”
“Not quite,” I reply as Lance and Tym fall back, allowing me to break the trail for a little bit while giving them a break from Brandon. “They know you’ll want to escape, but they also know we know you’re important to Lucian. They probably also know that we know what your purpose is.”
“I don’t even know what my purpose is,” Brandon complains. “All I know is somehow, I’m supposed to be made death, war, famine, pestilence in the flesh or something. I mean, how am I supposed to be blended with a Lightblood, anyway? Produce a child? Great, just keep me away from Light chicks. Problem solve
d. I can restrict my dick to dark chicks.”
“Pretty sure it’s not that easy,” I reply. I shake my head, wondering if Brandon realizes just how arrogant he comes off as. Yeah, he’s got great looks, and I’ve seen enough of his body over the past five days to know he could have a line of women lined up down the street.
Then again, bad boys seem to always be in style with a certain segment of the female population.
But it’s not going to work on me. If or when I start a relationship with a man, I would like to know I can depend on him for more than just pissing me off.
“How could it be more difficult?” Brandon asks, giving me a smile that digs at me . . . not the least of which is because I can feel a tingle when he grins like that. I want to wipe that cocky grin off his face, make him humble before me. And the idea of taking on that challenge turns me on.
Motherfucker.
“It’s not going to be that easy because there could be a lot of ways,” I explain, keeping my voice as level as I can. “First, if it is about getting a woman who’s related to Sulis pregnant, there’s more than one way to do that.”
“Like what?”
I grin, giving him an evil smile. “Someone could always shove an electrified dildo up your ass and stimulate your prostate, collect your discharge, and implant it in the woman.”
His cocky grin falters, and he pinches his eyebrows together. “Fuck that shit.”
“I believe that’s what it might just be called,” I finish cuttingly. “Of course, if that’s your thing, you don’t need a werewolf to do that. I’m sure we can find you a nice, strong girl in Solace who’ll be happy to boss you around, make you clean up after her, maybe even dress you up nice and pretty before she reams out your ass. Or are you looking for a guy?”
“Fuck you,” Brandon growls. “There’s no way any bitch is going to tell me what to do in life. I ain’t gay, and there’s no way I’m letting anyone or anything in my ass. That’s a one-way trail. Not every man’s a beta cuck like Tym and Lance.”
“What the fuck do you mean?” I ask, pissed.
“I mean you’re fucking both of them,” he says, smirking. “I caught you and the big one, but I can see it in Lance’s eyes and the way you look at him too. You’ve fucked them both, and they like it, too. I bet they’re already trying to figure out how best to beg at your door when you get back to Solace . . . fuckin’ sellouts.”
“Sellouts?” I retort, looking over my shoulder at Tym and Lance. Lance is playing it pretty cool, even though both of them can obviously hear us. Tym, on the other hand, looks tense, like he’d prefer to do nothing more than take Brandon and put him in a shallow grave. A feeling I can understand.
“Yeah, sellouts,” Brandon continues. “I’m still hazy on a lot of shit, but I remember a little bit more every day. And one thing I remember is the fact that Hunters are the most arrogant, conceited, racist fuckers in the world. Bunch of regular ass humans who think they’re too pure and noble for the rest of us whose ancestors apparently had to get down and dirty with the gods in order to survive the shitstorm that was most likely started by your kind anyway. But you’ve got some sweet ass gadgets and come trotting out of your shelters like shit’s all good . . . but guess what? The world’s not all good, and you didn’t like it. So you start treating everyone like we’re fucking diseased or something, too stupid or too impure for your pretty princess party shit.”
If he wasn’t so intense about it, I’d laugh at his ridiculous word choice. “You think what I do is a pretty princess party? You’ve been in the sun too long. You’re going delusional.”
“Maybe,” Brandon hisses, “but I remember. I remember the way assholes from Solace would treat us non-paranormal humans when they would leave the embassy or go on missions. Looking down on us, like we were beneath them. Well, I didn’t land in Bane. Bane landed on me, and while I’m glad I’m out of there, I’m not going to trade one kind of slavery for another. Your two dickboys behind us, though, they’re more than happy to sell out for a little bit of your cooch. And you get what you want, too. Two strong, strapping bucks who’ll do all the hard work and even bleed for you, and all you’ve gotta do is lie back, spread your legs, and act like your pussy’s made of gold. Well, I’m not going to be bamboozled by some bimbo.”
I’m so pissed off it’s either punch Brandon or laugh . . . so I laugh. “Guess what, Branny? You’re right, Lance and Tym have both had sex with me. And I’ve enjoyed every second of it. Lance has a tongue that could make the goddesses themselves cream their heavenly panties, and his cock’s no slouch either. Meanwhile, Tym’s hung bigger than your forearm and can do things that could turn a fairy into a nymph with one climax. They’re both more of a man than you could ever hope to be . . . and you’d be lucky to find a woman half as good as I am.”
It shuts Brandon up, and I drop back a little, letting him stew in his words. As I drop back behind Tym and Lance, Lance looks at Tym, lifting an eyebrow. “Big as his forearm, huh?”
Tym nods. “Some men are bigger than others . . . but you’re the one making goddesses sing.”
“Hmm . . . good point. Call it a tie, then.”
Four more days on the road, and for all of us, our tempers are quickly fraying. Even Tym, who’s been the steady rock who rarely needs more than a growl or a lifted eyebrow to convey when he’s not in a good mood, has become almost surly, his face leaning out and going gaunt.
The rest of us aren’t much better, and the reason’s obvious by the empty backpack on my back. The only thing inside is a handful of edible herbs that we found this morning, and yesterday we didn’t eat anything either.
It was the rations we bought back in Barter Town. I thought we’d had enough, but when we woke up two days ago, all of the ones we had left were spoiled. With Lucian’s werewolves still acting as a blocking force, we haven’t been able to complete the curve around to Solace, and so we’ve trudged, trying to scavenge off the vegetation around us without eating anything dangerous, which is rare in the Scorched Earth.
“That’s it, I’m beat,” Lance says, sitting down on a rock. “Hey, Cerena, got anything in there to eat?”
“Just the same as what we had last time,” I sigh, taking a knee before crossing my legs and sitting down. Night’s coming. We need to find shelter or camouflage ourselves, but I’m beat. “It’ll freshen your breath some.”
A deep thwack sound comes from off to our right, and Tym squats down, reaching into the dirt before coming up with a long, partially smooshed object. “Raptorsnake,” he says, coming closer. “They’re edible.”
“Fine . . . let’s call it a day,” I reply. Looking around, I point toward a rocky hill about half a mile away. “There. We can build a quick fire, roast that fucking thing, and get the flames out before nightfall.”
“Great, another night sleeping, freezing my ass off under the stars,” Brandon grumbles. “Oh, and three hours watching the night and listening for a werewolf attack. Never mind that werewolves can be silent when they want to be.”
“You know what—”
“Leave it, Lance,” I order him.
“Yeah, leave it . . . boy,” Brandon sneers, pushing ahead. I see Lance reaching for his pistol, and I’m tempted, but I close the gap and put my hand over his, shaking my head.
“Don’t . . . it’ll just make it harder for us to get back if you do.”
Lance inhales deeply, his eyes tired and his lips chapped. “I’ve been listening to that asshole for four straight days, Cerena. I’m starting to think the wolves have the right idea in mind with that idiot.”
“Let’s get some food in you. You’ll feel better.”
The snake’s not a big one. I’ve seen raptors grow up to eight feet long, and this one’s just about six feet. Still, after Lance finishes using his knives to gut and clean it, we’ve got about two pounds of edible meat. With four of us, it’s not a lot . . . but it helps.
“I see lights out there,” Lance says as he surveys the land ahead of us
. “Looks like a farm, maybe a small village. About two miles away.”
There’s precious little power left in my holocomputer, but I pull up my map, making a guess of where we are from the terrain. “A farm, most likely. There’s not going to be another village for awhile.”
“Well, why not try and find shelter with them?” Brandon asks. “Those shadow wolves won’t have the numbers advantage then.”
“And as soon as they know there are innocent civilians involved, they’ll bring the entire wolf clan down on us,” I reply. “Those are farmers down there, Brandon. Not soldiers, not Hunters. They’re a liability.”
Brandon shakes his head, but before he can launch into his retort and start another argument, Tym stands up. “Maybe not a liability.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to keep my temper in check. It’s a little easier with about a half-pound of snake meat in my belly, although it’s still not enough. And it lacked salt, so it tasted only slightly better than Hunter food rations.
“The farm, they may have supplies,” Tym says. “There’s enough time before dark. Lance and I can slip down there, trade for supplies perhaps, and get back just after full dark.”
“Why not me?” Brandon asks, but it seems the real assholishness is out of him for the moment. It’s an argument more for form’s sake than anything else.
“Because you don’t know how to move without being detected,” Tym says. “Lance and I do.”
“Okay,” I say, cutting off further discussion. “Tym, take Lance and go down to the farm, see if you can trade for supplies.”
“And if we can’t?” Lance asks, and I can read the gleam in his eye. I shake my head, but his answering nod doesn’t reach his eyes. He understands I don’t want them to steal anything . . . but right now, I’m so worn out and hungry that I’m really not going to ask questions if they bring something back.
Tym and Lance head off, staying low and leaving Brandon and me in the shadows of the rocks. Using his prybar, I scatter the remaining bits of the fire, knowing they’ll become nothing quickly enough.
Huntress Page 23