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Hunting Eve

Page 32

by Iris Johansen


  Where are you? I won’t hurt you. Let me come close, and I’ll show you.

  She stopped, listening, reaching out.

  The grove of white birch.

  She could feel the tiny hairs on the back of her neck tingle and lift as she approached. She could see flashes of gray and white weaving among the trees. How many were there?

  She didn’t want to know. Even three could bring you down and make a meal of you.

  There were more than three.

  She closed out all the wolves but the male who had been howling, calling. Kerak. Was that how he thought of himself? The impression was strong, but his mind was elusive … and very fierce.

  But she was getting something else from him now.

  Go away. He has to go away.

  Not departure. Death. He was talking about death.

  Not Margaret’s death. Even though she was an intruder.

  He? Who had to die? She formed a picture in her mind. Doane?

  A fierce explosion of hate that was completely uninterpretable.

  And it was coming not only from the male, Kerak, but from all the wolves skulking in those trees.

  She shivered and stopped in her tracks. Should she turn around and go back? This could be fatally stupid. Why was it so important to her? It had started as curiosity, but there was another element present now. She had never joined with any animal that had displayed this complex an emotional response.

  And it had something to do with that explosion and fire in the valley.

  She had to know what had triggered it.

  She addressed Kerak directly.

  I can’t be sure you’re not angry with me. Are you?

  No answer.

  Just that wild flow of hatred.

  I’m coming into the grove, and I’m going to sit down. I’ll be very quiet, and I’ll let myself be open to you. Will you let yourself be open to me?

  No answer.

  She drew a deep breath and entered the birch grove.

  I’m here. I’m not going to hurt you.

  She sat down on the ground and crossed her legs.

  She could hear a rustle in the shrubs, and out of the corner of her eye saw the soft flow of gray and white moving behind her, on either side of her, in front of her.

  Green eyes glowing in the dimness.

  She could feel her heart pounding. She could count at least six moving bodies encircling her in the trees.

  Would they attack?

  Too late to worry now. Open your mind. Let the male wolf see.

  She closed her eyes.

  You see who I am. Now let me see who you are. Why were you watching that ghost town?

  No answer.

  Who has to die?

  She heard a growl, and her eyes flew open.

  A huge gray-and-white wolf was standing not ten feet in front of her.

  White teeth gleaming, half-crouched.

  Who has to die? She gazed into those wild, green-amber eyes. Tell me.

  And she was suddenly bombarded, surrounded by a whirlwind of visions and impressions.

  Rushing water.

  Monsters.

  Hunger.

  A little red-haired girl, eyes wide with fear.

  Burned forests.

  Darkness.

  Silence.

  Evil creeping on padded feet.

  Death.

  And in the midst of all that swirling chaos, the image of a red-haired little girl.

  Margaret felt a surge of panic.

  No, not the child! Don’t kill the child.

  She pulled back and started to jump to her feet.

  Growling all around her.

  The smell of sweat and animal.

  She froze as she realized that she was completely surrounded. The rest of the pack had shown itself.

  White pointed teeth, bared and ready …

  * * *

  WOULD THE FIRE NEVER go out? Jane wondered dully.

  It had been hours since the blast, and the entire town was now engulfed in flames. She could see that Caleb and Trevor had joined Venable’s team, who were digging a trench around the town to prevent the fire from spreading to the forests. The water source in town was limited to nearby streams, and help from the nearest towns had not reached here yet. She wanted to shut her eyes and close it all out, but she couldn’t do it. It would be like closing Eve away from her since Eve was part of that fire. She supposed she should go look for Joe, but she would not be welcome. He had said he had to talk to Venable, to verify what she had told him. So she had stayed here, leaning against this tree, waiting for Joe, waiting for the fire to end.

  Waiting.

  “Jane.” It was Kendra, coming toward where Jane was sitting in the trees outside the town’s perimeter. “Good. You’re not asleep. I was afraid that Dr. Eland had given you a shot.”

  “No, he tried to give one to Joe, but that wasn’t going to happen. It may be killing him, but Joe won’t run away from it.”

  “And neither will you.” She fell to her knees beside her. “I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling, but I want to tell you that I’m sorry that—”

  “Everyone is sorry,” Jane said. “I know that. I appreciate it. But I wish everyone would stop saying it. It won’t bring her back. It won’t stop the hurting.” She wearily shook her head. “Now I’m the one who is sorry, Kendra. You’re only being kind.”

  “And sincere. Don’t forget sincere.” Kendra hesitated. “And, right now, I sincerely wish I didn’t have to disturb you. I told her that it wasn’t the time, but she wouldn’t leave me alone.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Margaret. I just got a call from her. She told me that I had to go and get you and bring you to her.”

  “What?”

  “I know. I know. You’re grieving, and Margaret is being Margaret. I argued, but she wouldn’t shut up about it. She said you had to come.”

  Jane shook her head.

  Kendra sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t do it. So did she. But she said to tell you that if you were grateful to her for saving your dog, Toby, that you had to come.”

  Jane gazed at her, puzzled. “This is hard for you. You didn’t want to come and ask me. Yet you did it. Why?”

  “Because it’s Margaret, and sometimes she’s Thelma to my Louise crashing into the Grand Canyon. And sometimes she’s weird and kind of wonderful, like the good witch from Oz. I don’t know which Margaret it is this time.” She shrugged. “So I thought I’d take a chance on causing you more grief and go along with her. Will you come?”

  “Where is she?” She looked around but didn’t see her in the group fighting the fire. “The last time I saw her was when she came down the mountain with me. Why did she have to phone you?”

  “You’ll have to ask her. I told you, she said you had to come to her. She couldn’t come to you.” She jerked her head at the thick grove of trees to the north. “She’s out there somewhere. Yes or no?”

  Jane didn’t want to go anywhere. She wanted to curl up in a ball and just ward off the loneliness and pain.

  Toby. Margaret had saved Toby, and now she was asking one simple act in return.

  Jane got slowly to her feet. “Take me to her.”

  Kendra nodded. “If I can find her.” She turned and headed into the trees. “She gave me directions, but I’m not as woods savvy as Margaret. She’ll hear from me if I get lost.”

  Jane quickly followed her. “How far is it?”

  “Ten, fifteen minutes.” She was climbing; they had gone through the trees and were now in the foothills.

  Jane glanced back over her shoulder at the fire. It appeared even more intense from this distance. What was she doing wandering out here when everything that mattered was back in that town?

  See Margaret.

  Pay the debt.

  Get it over.

  “She should be up ahead,” Kendra said ten minutes later. “In that grove of birch.” Her pace quickened. “Margaret!” she calle
d. “Answer me. I’ve stuck my neck out for you, and it had better be worth it.”

  “It’s worth it,” Margaret called back. “Of course, it will require a little work from you to help make it worthwhile. I can’t do everything.”

  “Margaret, what the hell is going on?” Jane called wearily, as they entered the birch grove. “I really didn’t want to come out here tonight.”

  “I know. But I couldn’t come to you.” The next minute she said, “I hear you. You’re getting close to me. Slow down, and don’t make any sudden movements.”

  “What?”

  “I think we should do as she says,” Kendra said, as they strode deeper through the trees. “I have a hunch she may be the good witch tonight.”

  Margaret giggled. “But I’m always good, well, almost always. And particularly tonight. I’m just around the next corner. Slowly…”

  Jane moved around the corner.

  She stopped, her eyes widening with shock.

  Margaret was sitting on the ground only a short distance away. Lying half-on her lap was a magnificent gray-and-white wolf who lifted his head, his green-amber eyes shining warily as he saw Kendra and Jane.

  “Shh,” Margaret said softly to the wolf. “It’s fine. You’re safe.” Then she smiled at Jane, a smile full of warmth and love that lit her face with joy. “It is fine. It’s wonderful. We have a chance to make it right.”

  “Margaret?”

  “She’s not dead, Jane.” Her voice was vibrating with the same joy that illuminated her entire being. “Do you hear me? Eve is alive.”

  LOOK FOR

  SILENCING

  EVE

  BY IRIS JOHANSEN

  ON SALE OCTOBER 1, 2013

  ALSO BY IRIS JOHANSEN

  Taking Eve

  Sleep No More

  Close Your Eyes (with Roy Johansen)

  What Doesn’t Kill You

  Bonnie

  Quinn

  Eve

  Chasing the Night

  Shadow Zone (with Roy Johansen)

  Eight Days to Live

  Blood Game

  Deadlock

  Dark Summer

  Quicksand

  Silent Thunder (with Roy Johansen)

  Pandora’s Daughter

  Stalemate

  An Unexpected Song

  Killer Dreams

  On the Run

  Countdown

  Blind Alley

  Firestorm

  Fatal Tide

  Dead Aim

  No One to Trust

  Body of Lies

  Final Target

  The Search

  The Killing Game

  The Face of Deception

  And Then You Die

  Long After Midnight

  The Ugly Duckling

  Lion’s Bride

  Dark Rider

  Midnight Warrior

  The Beloved Scoundrel

  The Magnificent Rogue

  The Tiger Prince

  Last Bridge Home

  The Golden Barbarian

  Reap the Wind

  Storm Winds

  Wind Dancer

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  IRIS JOHANSEN is the New York Times bestselling author of Taking Eve, Sleep No More, What Doesn’t Kill You, Bonnie, Quinn, Eve, Chasing the Night, Eight Days to Live, Blood Game, Deadlock, Dark Summer, Pandora’s Daughter, Quicksand, Killer Dreams, On the Run, Countdown, Firestorm, Fatal Tide, Dead Aim, No One to Trust, and more. And with her son, Roy Johansen, she has coauthored Close Your Eyes, Shadow Zone, Storm Cycle, and Silent Thunder. Visit www.irisjohansen.com.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  HUNTING EVE. Copyright © 2013 by Johansen Publishing LLLP. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  Cover design by Rob Grom

  Cover photograph by Shuhui Yang

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Johansen, Iris.

  Hunting Eve / Iris Johansen. — First U.S. Edition.

  pages cm

  ISBN 978-1-250-01999-8 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-250-02000-0 (e-book)

  1. Duncan, Eve (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Tracking and trailing—Fiction. 3. Secrets—Fiction. 4. Suspense fiction. I. Title.

  PS3560.O275H86 2013

  813'.54—dc23

  2013009108

  eISBN 9781250020000

  First Edition: July 2013

 

 

 


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