Bite Deep (22 page)

* * *

Lydia ran along the short track to the cottage, shoes kicking up dirt. When she got closer, she ducked behind the twisted trunk of an apricot tree. The lights were on inside the small cottage and she hesitated, watching for signs of life. After a few minutes, she moved forward, keeping to the shadows.

Circling around to the back of the cottage, she cut through a small flower garden edged with bushes of mint, and through the unlocked back door. She slid inside, blood raging hot with fury at the intrusion. Moving towards the front of the house, she heard a low male voice from the living room. She stepped into view, seeing Coulter beside one of her mother's boxes. A mobile was pressed against one ear, his eyes running over an open file in his hands. He looked up at her when she stepped into the room, looking remarkably unconcerned. She snapped her gun up.

‘What are you doing here?' she asked. ‘Where are the Solbergs?'

Hanging up the phone, he slipped it into his jacket pocket and closed the file. ‘Lydia. I wasn't expecting you to be here. The Solbergs had assured me you were out on a date.'

‘And now I'm here.' She tightened her grip around the gun. ‘Where are they?'

‘Please don't point that thing at me.' Coulter nodded at the gun. ‘You know you aren't going to shoot.'

‘The hell I won't.'

Coulter returned the file into the box. ‘I really did think you wouldn't be home until later. I would rather have avoided this.'

Lydia's back teeth ground together and she felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her face. ‘Where are they?'

‘The delightful Mrs Solberg found me in your home and became quite difficult to handle, you understand. It was her very helpful husband who explained where I could locate the files. Then I was forced to subdue them both.' He nodded towards the back of the house. ‘They're both secured to their bed, but relatively unharmed.'

‘You better not have hurt them.'

‘You're sweating,' Coulter said. ‘Are you feeling alright?'

She ignored him, fumbling for the mobile in her back pocket. ‘Don't you move. I'm calling for backup.'

‘Are you really going to arrest your own flesh and blood?' Coulter asked.

She gave a burst of surprised laughter. ‘You're really going to trot that one out after twenty-four hours? Really?'

‘I'd like to think my own niece isn't going to kill me.'

She dropped her eyes to the phone, trying to find Bowden's number. ‘You're a pathetic liar. You know, I don't believe for a second we're related.'

One of his grey eyebrows rose. ‘You think the photo was a fake?'

She didn't answer. The photo had looked pretty real. Sure, images could be altered, but why would he bother? She couldn't see the angle.

Coulter indicated the box of her mother's files. ‘These files contain quite a lot of important information. And dare I mention, a lot of money went into this research. Funded from Gatehouse. They are, technically, mine to take back with me.'

‘Technically,' Lydia said. ‘You're going to jail for this.'

‘Did you look through them? Did you understand them?' He nodded to the box beside him. ‘There are many things I'm afraid your mother never told you about, Lydia. Who she really was, for starters. If she had told you, maybe you could have saved yourself. Maybe you could understand.'

‘What are you talking about?' Lydia demanded. ‘My mother was a scientist. She stared at trees all day long and wrote reports about wombats.'

Sadness crossed his face. ‘I am truly sorry for what has happened to you, Lydia. I had grand ideas that you would perhaps walk in your father's footsteps. That perhaps we would one day fight side by side.'

Lydia's finger paused over the call button. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘Against those who have condemned you. Against those who would one day try to rule us.' He gave her a speculative look. ‘I'll wager your mother warned you to stay away from the woods, didn't she. She felt mercy for the monsters that stalked the woods, but still understood they were dangerous. She was hired to study them, you know, but ended up taking their side, thinking them worthy of mercy. If the Association had been aware of her abilities and who she really was, they might have listened to her.' He hesitated, then asked, ‘Tell me, Lydia, did
you
know what your mother was?'

Lydia shook her head, not able to make sense of a single thing he was saying. But his words about her past caused a chilled wave to wash through her. Pain stabbed at her temples and her vision blurred. Head spinning, a tingling sensation shot up her spine and her breath came out in short bursts.
No! Not now!
She tried to control her breathing, tried to keep the panic attack at bay.

‘I don't understand,' she wheezed. Her aim wavered as her vision narrowed and she prayed she wasn't about to lose time, pass out or throw up. She chanted this silently in her head, praying her body would listen.

Coulter came for her then and she stumbled back. But unable to control her limbs, she fumbled her weapon and with a sharp movement, Coulter knocked the gun aside, sending it skidding across the wooden floorboards.

Chapter 22

Jericho pulled his bike over at the beginning of Lydia's driveway and jogged the rest of the way. He would just take a quick look. Check if she still had company. A quiet, inner voice asked him what he was going to do if she'd wasn't alone, if she'd bought her date back with her. A hot shot of fury spiked his veins, but it was quickly vanquished when he spied the front door open.

He stepped up to the porch, cautious, catching a faint trace of an unfamiliar male. Inside the house, the metallic scent of blood snagged his attention and his eyes fell on a smear of red on the kitchen bench. He raced out the back door, tracking Lydia to the Solberg's cottage. A cry came from inside and he raced to the open front door, bursting through.

Inside, Coulter grappled with Lydia. The second Jericho stepped inside the home, the Hunter whirled, pulling a gun from behind his back. Jericho lunged to the left as two popping sounds punched the air and pain knocked him back against the wall. He hissed in annoyance as the pain grew, pulsing through his body. Looking down, he saw he'd been shot twice; one in the side, one in the hip. From the amount of blood, he also knew he'd been hit with silver.

‘This visit is a surprise, Mr Jericho,' Coulter said, looking almost amused.

‘You know me?' Jericho snarled.

‘Every Hunter knows who you are, my friend.'

Jericho bared his teeth. ‘I'm not your friend.'

‘Indeed.' Coulter looked at Lydia, who was propping herself up against a wall, hands shaking, face beaded with sweat as she struggled to breath. He looked back at Jericho. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't wish for this violence tonight. Please believe that.'

Jericho's head spun as hot blood slipped through his fingers. ‘Why are you here, Hunter?'

‘Sightseeing,' Coulter answered, making a grand gesture with his free hand. ‘I'm taking in the beautiful sights this town has to offer.'

‘You're a dead man by the end of tonight,' Jericho gasped out.

Coulter's brows drew together. ‘Be careful, Mr Jericho. Two bullets and you might have a chance. Another and you're a dead dog walking. No Breed could stand that amount of silver.'

‘You're in violation of the treaty.' Jericho tasted blood in his mouth and swallowed.

Coulter laughed. ‘No one believes in that nonsense anymore.'

‘Why did you come here?'

‘I already told you,' Coulter said. ‘Though I confess I am also taking care of some business on the side.'

‘Enough.' Lydia placed herself unsteadily between the two and Jericho saw her face was a shocking white. She glared at Coulter. ‘Just leave, alright? Just go.'

Jericho watched as hesitation flicked in Coulter's eyes, before he shook his head. ‘Your mother had the same weakness. Wanting everyone to get along. In the end, when she and her friends made a stand, it was their undoing.'

‘You think you're a big man, coming here threatening me,' Lydia said, voice steady. ‘But I'm coming for you after tonight, and then you can kiss your freedom goodbye.'

Coulter glanced at Jericho. ‘I don't think your friend here would like that at all. Who knows what I might say in jail? After all, I'm not the wolf in sheep's clothing.'

‘You want the files?' Lydia snapped. ‘Then just take them and leave, alright? They're yours. Just go and leave us.'

‘What files?' Jericho asked, but his voice was weak, vision spinning.

‘Thank you for understanding,' Coulter said.

‘Yeah.' Lydia looked pointedly at his gun. ‘I'm real understanding right now.'

‘I require assistance though,' Coulter said, almost apologetically. ‘If you wouldn't mind carrying the files to my car. It's just behind the garage.'

‘She's not helping you with anything,' Jericho growled, suddenly panicked about Lydia being alone with the Hunter.

‘It's fine, Jericho.' Lydia's pale face was resigned. ‘Just let me handle this.'

He watched as she picked up the box and followed Coulter outside. He tried to understand why Coulter had come here. What was in the files that was so important? And what if Coulter took the chance to take Lydia and spirit her out of town? Perhaps force her to join the Hunter ranks? He went to follow, but the movement caused another rip of agony down his side. He fell to his knees as a roaring sound filled his ears and he pitched forward, falling into a darkness.

* * *

Coulter's car was hidden behind a group of trees beside the garage. After she dumped the box in the car, she turned, ready to rush back to the cottage to find the Solbergs and help Jericho.

‘Lydia, wait.'

She stopped and turned to face this man who'd come to rob her, the man who claimed to be her uncle. The night sky was overcast and all around them was darkness, save for the interior car light. Coulter shifted his gun behind one leg, and his tone was apologetic.

‘I'm sorry. I feel responsible for this situation. I feel that maybe if I'd approached you earlier, at a different time in your life, things would have been different. You would have understood who the enemy was and been more prepared in this fight. Instead, I kept away, thinking it was for the best. I thought there was plenty of time to make contact, to see if you wanted to join our ranks.' He sighed heavily. ‘I regret this choice with all my heart, after what's happened.'

Lydia folded her arms. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘Your hand,' he answered. ‘I'd recognise a Breed bite anywhere and if you've been bitten, it means you're contaminated.' He ducked into the car, grabbing something from a black duffle bag on the front seat. He straightened and held out a zip case to her.

‘The Association would never consider you as an applicant now.' His voice turned thick and he cleared his throat. ‘But I'm not strong enough to do what I should. Instead, I give you this. Please take it.'

She hesitated, then took the offering, glaring at Coulter suspiciously. ‘What is it?'

‘An experimental drug, a trial vaccination against the Breed virus that some Hunters use. There have been whispers of it cancelling out the virus before it takes complete control. Mostly just gossip, you understand. Most Hunters who get bit simply take care of themselves. But your situation is a little different. And some chance is better than none.'

‘Hunters? Breed? You sound insane,' she said. ‘But crazy or not, you're going to have to answer for what you've done here.'

‘That might be true. But it won't be in your court of law.' Coulter got into the car and turned the engine on. ‘Why don't you ask your white knight back in there, what I'm talking about. If the bite was from him, he owes you an explanation, at the very least.'

He shut the door and Lydia watched him drive off down the narrow driveway. When the taillights had disappeared, she sprinted back to the cottage, tucking Coulter's peculiar offering into her back pocket.

Inside, she found Jericho slumped to the ground, eyes closed, breath shallow. She pulled her mobile and hurried towards the bedroom at the back of the home. Bursting into the room, she spied Dominic and Greta stretched out on their bed, wrists bound with plastic ties to the wrought-iron bedhead. Their mouths were covered with electrical tape and Greta had a large lump on her forehead. Lydia had expected the couple to look terrified, but Dominic just looked resigned and Greta's face was beetroot red, as if she were gearing up to go nuclear. Hurrying over, she fumbled with the plastic ties. A sound caused her to look back, and she saw Jericho stagger into the room, hands bloodied.

‘I'm calling for an ambulance,' she said, looking down at her phone.

‘No,' Jericho said, his voice weak.

‘Don't be stupid.' She raised the phone to her ear, then gasped when Jericho lurched across the room and tore it from her grasp. He hung up and pocketed it with a frown.

‘No ambulance,' he repeated. He pulled a switchblade from his jeans and handed it to her, the handle sticky with his blood. Lydia watched as he leaned weakly against the door, looking like he was going to pass out again. ‘No ambulance,' he murmured again, eyes fluttering closed.

Lips thinning, she flipped the blade and hurried over to the bed, tearing the tape from their mouths and slicing the ties. As soon as the tape had left Greta's mouth, the elderly woman began to bellow angrily in German. From Dominic's raised eyebrows, Lydia was guessing it was some fairly colourful language.

‘Are you both alright?' she asked as she helped Greta off the bed. Dominic hurried to Jericho, who had slumped to the ground, face pale.

‘He's been shot,' Lydia told Dominic. ‘He doesn't want an ambulance though. I'll drive him to the medical centre in town.'