“Kathryn same,” Kathryn whispered. There were tears in her eyes, the first time Liam had seen such a thing from her. “Liam makes happy. Liam taught things. Want to be around Liam. Same.”
“I know,” Liam said. Sighing, he squeezed the one of Kathryn’s hands that was pressed to his palm. “I know you do, Kat.”
“Liam love Kathryn.”
“Yes, but—”
“But Liam love Jenn. Big love. Stronger love.”
It took him a moment to answer. He considered lying, of course, but something in the way Kathryn had spoken told him she already knew the answer.
“Yes,” he said.
Rather than one of the reactions he’d expected, his admission brought a thin smile to Kathryn’s face.
“Stronger love… can secret-secret?” she asked, plainly struggling to find the right words with her limited vocabulary. “Liam love Kathryn… can blood-secret.”
“Yes?” he said, hesitantly. “That’s right.”
Kathryn grinned at him, toothily and with sudden ferocity. Rising to her knees, she began gesturing to supplement her words.
“More love, more secret! Liam love Kathryn more—blood-secret, little secret-secret!”
And with that, the tenuous grasp Liam had on the conversation was lost. He shook his head, gesturing for Kathryn to stop.
“Wait,” he interrupted. “Stop. I don’t understand what you’re saying, Kat.”
Kathryn growled in frustration. Leaning forward, she grasped Liam by the hair and pulled him into a firm, clumsy kiss.
It was immediately obvious that, despite her frequent voyeurism, Kathryn had little idea what she was doing. Her lips were firm and tucked tightly over her teeth, but the feelings behind the gesture were unmistakable. Before Liam could struggle or push her away, however, she pulled back and smiled nervously at him.
“Earned it,” she said.
“What?” Liam said, trying and failing to come up with a more appropriate response.
Sighing, Kathryn dropped back down to her knees, practically in his lap. She spoke slowly, brows high as if she was explaining the most obvious thing in the world.
“Liam love Kathryn,” she said. She pressed a finger to his lips. “Now? Small secret.”
She trailed her finger downward, over his chin, and down the center of his chest. Liam caught her by the wrist before she could reach his waist, but her eyes completed the journey her hand had been unable to complete.
“Liam love Kathryn more,” she said. “More secret. Bigger secret. Earned it.”
“No,” Liam said. “That’s not how this works.”
Kathryn made a face. “Plant-girl said—”
“I don’t care what—”
Liam yelped as something shot past his face, dangerously close. He turned to discover a javelin buried in the ground. And, looking to its source, he discovered Jenn, her vines holding her aloft in a tree some twenty yards away.
She had a finger pressed to her lips. And, as Liam stared at her, she pointed in the direction of the camp and mouthed a single word.
Occs.
***
Liam moved instantly, scrambling to his feet and moving silently toward the camp. His heart had risen into his throat and the absence of his rifle was like a physical ache in his hands. The sight of Jenn and Kathryn moving purposefully in the same direction eased his anxiety, however, if only a little.
He slowed as they crested the top of the hill separating the secluded grove from that of the camp. Winding cautiously through the underbrush until he could crouch directly beneath Jenn’s arboreal perch, he peered out from behind the tree.
Eight men surrounded Julie, Nora, and the children in a wide semi-circle. Seven of them, Liam spotted at once, thanks to the prominence of their assorted firearms. The last took him a moment and opened a pit in his stomach at the sight.
The Hunter was astonishingly scrawny, almost to the point of appearing malnourished, but was unmistakable nonetheless. He prowled the gaps between the riflemen, naked from the waist up, and eyeing the captives with undisguised hunger. Even from two dozen meters away, Liam could easily see the strands of drool that streaked and dangled from the creature’s distended jaw. And yet, it seemed almost self-conscious of the fact. Every few seconds, the Hunter would wipe its chin with one of its oversized claws, then promptly resume drooling when its gaze inevitably returned to Julie and the others.
Taking a deep breath, Liam steeled himself. He’d survived being shot in the head; he could handle a Hunter. Not that the knowledge alone made the primal horror he felt when looking at the beast any less gripping.
He turned to Kathryn, who crouched a few paces behind him, and waved her closer. She nodded and obeyed, tiptoeing daintily amid the vines and bushes. So stealthy were her movements, in fact, that Liam might have believed she understood the gravity of the situation had it not been for her broad, enthusiastic smile.
Careful to remain out of sight, Liam gestured toward the Hunter and mouthed his words.
Fast and strong.
Kathryn cocked her head. Leaning in, she cupped a hand to her ear.
“Kill the Hunter,” he whispered, as softly as he could. “Fast and strong.”
“Liam!” came a shout, even before he’d finished his instructions.
His eyes snapped to Jenn, but she was not the one who’d spoken, nor did she have any advice to offer. She stared down tensely at him. And so, Liam pressed himself firmly against the tree and slowly leaned until he could just barely glimpse what lay outside his cover.
Only one of the riflemen remained focused on Julie and the others. The rest aimed his direction, albeit imprecisely. And, at the center of the semi-circle, the Hunter gestured toward him. That one, at least, was spot-on.
“Liam!” came the voice again. This time, he could see Nora and watched as she rose to face him. “It’s okay! They’re not Occs!”
Liam froze, then yanked himself back into cover and looked at Jenn. She appeared just as bewildered as he was, the tips of her javelin-wielding vines quivering slightly. Eventually, she shrugged with a helpless expression.
He took another deep breath.
“Yeah?” he called back. “Then why is there a Hunter?”
“I… well—”
“Liam,” Julie interrupted. “She’s telling the truth. I know one of them. They’re from New Lewville.”
Gritting his teeth, Liam stepped out from behind the tree and toward the soldiers. He was entirely prepared for the inevitable gunshots. But, to his surprise, none came. Instead, the men simply shifted to readier positions and did not quite lift their weapons in his direction.
He glared at them, the Hunter especially, and waited.
Julie rose, holding Morgan, and said something in a quiet voice to the nearest soldier. At his nod, she marched toward Liam. Her smile was a bit strained but obviously intended to be reassuring.
“It’s true,” she said as she drew near. “Their sergeant’s name is Andrew. I knew him when I was a girl, before his family fled north, across the DMZ.”
Liam barely glanced at her, his gaze fixated on the men to the rear.
“Why do they have a Hunter?” he asked again.
“I’m not sure. Maybe they captured one.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“I don’t care what you—” Julie’s words trailed off in a growl of frustration. Stomping her feet, she took a moment to compose herself before continuing. “Look, kid. They could have killed us already if they were Occs. They’ve got a Hunter, for crying out loud! Just… trust me on this, okay? Andrew and his men know the terrain. If we leave now, we can reach the city around nightfall and you can go back to screwing your lovely ladies or whatever it is you feel like doing.”
She spoke loudly enough that Liam noticed a few of the men look his way before hastily averting their eyes. Fighting the urge to blush, he glared at Julie for a moment, then nodded.
/> “Fine,” he said. “Then give me my rifle back.”
“Okay.”
As Julie departed, he turned and waved Jenn and Kathryn forward. They did so reluctantly, their every movement guarded as if prepared to dive for cover.
“And hope this doesn’t get us all killed,” Liam muttered.
Chapter Nine
Despite Liam’s reservations, the men did not try to kill them. In fact, they seemed almost eager to prove how non-threatening they were. Several of them approached Liam as they marched through the woods and attempted to engage him in conversation. Though he rebuffed such efforts, the others did not. Within an hour, several of Liam’s companions were engaged in hushed conversations as if they’d known one another for years.
It quickly became apparent that Julie’s assurances were not lies. She was the worst offender of the bunch and chatted openly with Andrew the sergeant, even going so far as to coax her son into exchanging a few words with the man.
Liam listened avidly, certain that it was only a matter of time before the man let slip some information proving he was more than he appeared. His gaze, however, did not linger on Julie and Andrew. Instead, he studied the Hunter—Damien, the others had called him.
The Hunter did not behave like those Liam had seen, especially Wuyong. Damien kept his distance from the others, sometimes scouting ahead and sometimes lurking near the edges of the group. Occasionally, he would exchange a few quiet words with the other soldiers, then promptly spring off into the woods at a loping gallop.
Of course, Liam had not encountered many Hunters before. For all he knew, Wuyong had been the exception. And he was not about to let his guard down simply because this particular Hunter had not attacked him on sight.
He was so distracted watching the Hunter that it was not until Andrew called a halt that he noticed the glow lighting the sky beyond the next hilltop. Gripping his rifle, he pushed his way past Julie.
“Whoa, slow down there,” Andrew said, catching Liam by the arm.
Growling, Liam jerked free of the man’s grip and turned to stare him down. As if on cue, Damien materialized from the deepening shadows and loomed silently a few meters away.
“What?” Liam demanded.
“It’s night already,” Andrew said. He glanced at the sky as if to confirm. “The gates will be locked by now. We’ll camp here and enter the city tomorrow.”
“We can find another way in.”
Andrew laughed, shrugging and flashing a disarming smile.
“I’m sure you could,” he said. “But why bother? It’s probably safer sleeping here than in some alley.”
Liam did not even smile.
“I’m not so sure about that,” he said.
He was about to say more when a hand found his and intertwined their fingers. He turned to discover Jenn at his side, wearing a stern expression. Ignoring his protests, she pulled him away from the man, then off the trail and into the murky blackness of the trees.
It was only once they were safely out of earshot that she turned to face him, arms folded across her chest.
“What is wrong with you?” she said.
“I don’t trust them,” Liam said.
“Obviously,” Jenn said. “But do you have to show it? You’ve been scowling and muttering the whole way here.”
“They have a Hunter!”
“And? You think the Occs are the only ones who know how to make them?”
Grumbling, Liam looked away.
“See? You’re doing it again.” Jenn sighed and stepped closer to cup his face with her hands. Turning his head until she could look him in the eye, she spoke softly. “You’re not the only one who hates them, Liam.”
Almost without meaning to, Liam’s gaze settled on the mostly healed scars on Jenn’s cheek. He’d offered several times to heal them with his blood, but she had refused until it was too late. As reminders went, they were inarguably effective. And yet, the memory of how Jenn had received them made him want to argue the point.
Before he could, Jenn leaned in and kissed him. Then almost too quickly, she pulled back and began to undress. The suddenness of it pulled Liam from his grim mood and he chuckled.
“What are you doing?” he teased.
“Making the hammock,” Jenn replied, matter-of-factly. She continued to undress, not even bothering to look at him as she strung her vines between a pair of appropriately spaced trees.
“You don’t want to be closer to the others?” he asked.
“No,” Jenn said. At last, she looked at him. Even in the darkness, Liam could see the playful gleam he’d expected from the beginning.
He stepped closer, grasping Jenn’s hips and embracing her from behind. The sight of her bare skin in the scant moonlight was far too distracting to continue brooding. And yet, Jenn continued to ignore him in favor of constructing the hammock.
Grinning, Liam trailed his fingers upward, exploring the smooth expanse of her stomach until he reached her breasts. Jenn hesitated, then sighed pleasantly as he cupped them. Leaning down, Liam kissed the curve of her neck at the spot where it met her shoulder and was rewarded with the feeling of her nipples pebbling against his palms.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked.
Jenn chuckled and shook her head. Then, without warning, she spun round in the circle of his arms and pressed herself flat against him.
“No,” she said. “You’ve got too much on your mind. I bet you’d get lost.”
“I would n—”
She kissed him, far deeper and far more passionately than before.
“Shut up and get in bed,” she said.
***
Liam woke to the sun on his face and the chime of birdsong in his ears. Lying there, the warmth of Jenn’s body pressed against his bare chest, a part of him wished he could doze forever.
Then, in a waking flash, the memories of the night before returned to him and he scrambled wildly to escape the leafy cocoon of Jenn’s hammock. It rocked fitfully as he toppled out, pursued by a flurry of cursing from his freshly awoken lover.
Chuckling despite himself, Liam dressed quickly and returned to the edge of the hammock.
“Sorry,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. “Did I wake you?”
Jenn’s answer took the form of a bleary-eyed scowl and a hand that roughly shoved his face away from hers.
Grinning, Liam kissed her shoulder and stepped away to stretch. His own cheerfulness caught him by surprise and he embraced the change in attitude gladly. It was a relief to set his worries aside, even for a moment.
Unfortunately, grim reality asserted itself an instant later in the form of Damien. The Hunter lumbered in Liam’s direction, making no attempt to move quietly but managing it nevertheless. And, if his sudden appearance was not unnerving enough, the dried blood coating his claws and corded forearms certainly made up the difference.
Liam lunged for his rifle.
“Wait,” the Hunter growled.
Liam brought the rifle to his shoulder, then hesitated. The sound of the Hunter’s gravelly voice made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, but Damien had raised his arms in a somewhat less threatening gesture. And, oddly, he did not seem at all surprised to find himself staring down the barrel of Liam’s rifle.
“Venison,” Damien said. He jerked his head over his shoulder, large ears flopping. “Hungry?”
“What?” Liam asked.
Sighing, though the sound came out more like a wheeze, Damien pointed an oversized finger in the direction he’d come from. Without lowering his arms, he turned and walked away.
“Food,” he called, speaking slowly and emphatically. “Come eat.”
Liam stood fast, uncertain whether to follow the Hunter or refuse. He glanced back at Jenn and discovered her peeking out between the gaps in the hammock-tent’s walls. Smiling shyly, she shooed him with her fingers.
And just like that, his mind was made up.
Li
am followed Damien’s path through the trees, painfully aware of how loud his movements were, compared to the Hunter’s. He held his rifle tight, searching the woods for any sign of a trap.
In the end, his caution proved unnecessary. As he reached the edge of the camp, he found it abuzz with activity and conversation. Andrew, his men, Julie, Nora, and the children stood, sat, or crouched in a rough circle around a modest fire. Skewers of venison and the carcass itself roasted at the center. Here and there, several of the men braved the licking flames when they thought their sergeant was not looking and plucked scraps of ready meat to stealthily devour. The only exceptions to those gathered were Kathryn, who had occupied herself by poking at the deer’s innards with a stick, and Damien, who watched both Liam and the others from a safe distance.
It was Andrew who noticed Liam first. The man started when he saw him, but nodded in greeting and quickly picked his way through those seated to approach.
“Morning,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”
Liam stared at him and said nothing. He glanced in the direction of the city, though the glow that had illuminated the night before was no longer visible in the soft light of morning.
“Is something wrong?” Andrew asked.
“We need to get moving,” Liam said. He fidgeted a bit, then added, “It’s important.”
“Important enough to skip breakfast?” Andrew asked with a crooked smile. “The meat’s almost ready.”
“It’s important,” Liam repeated. “I need to find the Free States Militia.”
Andrew laughed aloud, so suddenly and emphatically that Liam took a step back. The man saw and gestured apologetically, even as he continued to laugh. It was several long seconds before he’d recovered sufficiently to grin without chuckling.
“Liam,” he said. “Who else would we be?”
Liam blinked in surprise.
“You—” he said slowly. He glanced toward Damien, who continued lurking at the edge of the camp. “Scott never mentioned there were Hunters in the militia.”
“Ah.” Andrew followed Liam’s gaze and nodded in understanding. “Well, Damien’s something of a new addition. Technically, he’s on loan from the Mayor of New Lewville. I doubt any of Scott’s men would have known either.”
Feral Empires: Fanning Flames Page 7