Defeat the Darkness (17 page)

Tate leaned back in her chair, satisfied with how the scene had turned out. She even knew what was coming next. Chance was furious that he'd had to hide behind Melinda's lace curtains and watch her ride away with his enemy. He'd been on the verge of going after them when they finally returned. Melinda looked guilty. Had they done more than share a little fried chicken?

He'd promised himself that he'd keep his hands off of her, knowing he couldn't offer her any kind of life. But now all bets were off. As soon as she walked through that door, he was going to have her, even if it was only this one time.…

“What are you doing?”

Tate jumped guiltily. How long had Sandra been standing there? More importantly, had she been reading over Tate's shoulder? God, she hoped not. The last thing she needed was for her mother to sully Tate's secret dream with her usual sarcasm.

“Finishing up some paperwork. It never ends.”

She saved the file, and then closed the laptop. “Soup's still hot on the stove. Help yourself.”

Sandra filled her bowl and hesitated, as if not sure what to do. Tate really didn't want her company, but they had to make peace sometime.

“Sit down, if you want to. I was just going to have seconds.” So that was a lie, but her mother was looking lost and a lot older than she had just hours before.

Tate stirred her soup, feigning interest. They sat in awkward silence.

Finally, both women set their spoons down and pushed their bowls away. Tate leaned back in her chair, ready to come out swinging, but willing to give Sandra one last chance.

“Okay, so I was way out of line earlier.” Sandra kept her eyes firmly on the table as she picked at a loose thread on the tablecloth.

“You think? You insult my tenant—”

Her mother's eyes jerked up to meet hers. “He's more than that, and you know it.”

Tate prayed for patience. “What he is, Mother, is none of your business. Let's get something straight. For the last time, Uncle Jacob left me this place, lock, stock, and the garage apartment. It is not now, nor will it ever be, yours. Got that?”

“Rub it in, why don't you? I don't know how you manipulated him into—”

That did it. Tate slammed her fist down on the table hard enough to rattle the bowls and slosh soup over the sides.

“I did
not
manipulate Uncle Jacob. I had no idea he'd named me as his heir until the lawyer called. Maybe if you'd been nicer to him, Uncle Jacob might have handled things differently. But you weren't. You were always your usual selfish, self-centered charming self around him.”

Tate need to move. Shoving her chair back from the table, she carried the bowls over to the sink and grabbed the paper towels to clean up her mess. Besides, they'd come in handy to sop up the tears that were streaming down her face.

“You never did understand me,” Sandra sniffed, her eyes also brimming with tears.

“No, I guess I didn't. I still don't. What I do understand, though, is that this is
my
home and
my
business. I cannot have you here making my friends and guests as miserable as you do me. I will write you a check. It won't be much, but it should be enough to give you a start.”

She paused to stare at the woman who'd given birth to her; she had in so many ways remained a stranger. “And this will be the last dime I give you. You're a big girl, Mother. Act like it.”

Sandra snarled right back, “So you're throwing me out? Just like that? Over some man you hardly know?”

“Just like that, Mother, but not because of Hunter. This has been a long time coming, and we both know it. You're welcome to stay until morning, but then I want you out. Next time call before you barge in for another ‘visit.' I may or may not have room for you.”

Tate crossed the kitchen to stand by the sink, her back to Sandra, unable to face the disaster their relationship had become. She was done crying over a lost cause. Or at least she would be by morning.

Damn it.
His leg was cramping from sitting in one position for too long. He had to stretch, or it would only get worse. So far, the night had been quiet. But if that changed and he needed to move quickly, he wouldn't be able to unless he did something about it and soon. He'd have to risk standing up, even if he risked being seen.

He'd deliberately situated himself between a couple of good-sized cedars, knowing he could use them for cover as well as support if he needed to pull himself up. Setting his cane in easy reach, he began the arduous process of getting vertical, moving as slowly and quietly as possible.

The pain was manageable right up until he put his full weight on his leg. He drew in a sharp breath as he waited for the throbbing to ease up. Finally, he paced a few steps. Gradually the muscles relaxed and the pain ebbed. As he enjoyed the brief moment of peace, a noise caught his attention.

Someone was coming.

Judging by the noise, Hunter guessed there were at least two, maybe three, people coming up from the beach. It was too late for him to duck down, so he blended farther back into the shadows. Moving slowly, he hit the release button on his cane and withdrew his blade. He didn't plan on charging into battle against superior numbers, but he had to be prepared in case they spotted him.

Of course, there was no guarantee that it was his enemy approaching, but it was awfully late for a bunch of tourists to be hiking up from a picnic. Besides, they'd likely be talking amongst themselves. Whoever was coming up the side of the bluff had yet to say a single word.

His years of Paladin training kicked in, slowing his pulse, enhancing his senses, increasing his awareness of each breath his enemies took as they hauled themselves up the steepest pitch of the trail. Oh, yeah, two were definitely human, but the third was not. Hunter's blood boiled with the need to skewer the alien bastard who'd crossed into this world, bringing his darkness with him. He stood his ground, ignoring the sour mix of fear and hate on his tongue.

The two humans definitely deserved to die screaming for mercy for their betrayal of their own kind. If it was up to Hunter, that's exactly what would happen. But he was in no position to take on three men at once. Now that he knew for sure that the cave was being used regularly, he'd contact Devlin about sending some help. First, though, he needed to discover if there was a pattern to their appearances, because Bane didn't have the
manpower to station multiple guards up here night after night on the off chance the bastards would show.

The three men stopped at the ledge leading to the cave. Two of them started across, leaving the third to stand guard. Hunter could easily kill him, but that would only put the other two on alert. The whole idea was to capture those involved, not to force them to find another place to cross the barrier.

It didn't take long. Even from where Hunter stood, he saw the bright flash of the barrier going down. A few seconds later it flashed again as it was restored. There'd been rumors coming out of Seattle that some of the Kalith warriors had the ability to bring the barrier down at will. It looked like that much was true, since it was unlikely that these bozos conveniently arrived just as the barrier went down.

Shortly after, the second human left the cave to join his companion. Together they set back down the trail toward the beach. Hunter toyed with the idea of following them, but he didn't trust the strength of his leg enough to risk it. If they heard him coming, it could turn ugly. While he hadn't noticed if the one man who'd gone into the cave was armed, the one who'd stood guard definitely carried a gun in his right hand. As good as Hunter was with a sword, it wouldn't save him from getting shot.

Besides, he'd have a hard time explaining a bullet hole to Tate. Considering how up close and personal they'd gotten, she was intimately familiar with his scars. A new one would definitely draw her attention.

That is, if they got around to a repeat performance. He was definitely up for it, but he wasn't so sure about
Tate. Her mother had done everything she could to tarnish her daughter's memory of the afternoon.

How had someone so cold and calculating given birth to a lovely, warm woman like Tate? He'd never raised his hand against a woman, but he'd come darned close to decking Sandra for tearing into Tate. How dare she accuse Tate of taking sex as payment? Didn't she know her own daughter better than that?

Obviously not.

He'd check on Tate in the morning. And he'd give the bad guys a few more minutes to make a clean getaway before he started the climb back up the bluff. Maybe he'd take another long soak in the tub before turning in. He'd sleep better if he did. Besides, maybe when he got out, Tate would be standing at his door again.

That was probably too much to hope for. Still, he'd definitely take that bath. Just in case.

She thought
she
looked bad when she got up, but Hunter had just straggled into the shop looking as if he hadn't gotten more than an hour's sleep. She couldn't point fingers, though. She'd heard the clock in the hall toll the hour, every hour, all night long.

Sandra had yet to make an appearance. Tate would give her another hour and then check to see what the holdup was. Maybe that was the coward's way of dealing with the situation, but Tate needed another cup — or three— of caffeine before she could face another potential battle.

The bell over the door rang again. The Auntie Ms filed in a cloud of perfume. Normally Tate didn't mind that they all wore different kinds, but this morning the miasma of floral scents was overwhelming.

Hunter looked up from his tea with a small smile. “Good morning. How are my favorite ladies?”

Normally the three women would've fluttered a bit at his attention, but Madge and Margaret barely nodded. Mabel, always the most outgoing of the three, didn't even respond.

Tate quickly filled their teapot and carried it over to their table.

“Mabel, is everything all right?”

Her smile was shaky. “I'm just having one of those mornings, dear. When you get to be my age, sometimes things don't feel quite right.”

Her color was off, too, so that the circles of peach blush on her cheeks stood out against the sallow tone of her skin. When she went to sit down, Mabel suddenly toppled to one side. If Tate hadn't been there to catch her, she would've hit the floor.

Thank God Hunter was there. He swept the woman up in his arms and set her in a chair. He knelt by her side.

“Mabel, are you having any chest pains?”

She shook her head. “No, but I'm a little light-headed. This happens once in a while. I'm sure it will pass.”

Hunter caught her frail wrist between his thumb and forefinger and counted her pulse. After a few seconds, he looked up at Tate. “Call nine-one-one.”

Mabel protested. “That's not necessary. I'll be fine. Like I said, I get this way. A nap will set me straight.”

“How about I drive you to the hospital myself?” Tate asked. “It's not far, and we'd all feel better if a doctor gave you a quick checkup.”

Mabel looked to her sisters for confirmation. They both nodded.

“But what about the shop, Tate? You can't afford to lose customers over me.”

Tate put her hand on Mabel's shoulder. “Friends mean more than money. We won't be gone that long. Besides, business is always slow when it's this nice out.”

“All the more reason for you to be here for the few that do come in.”

Hunter butted into the argument. “I'll run the shop for her, Mabel. You know she won't be able to concentrate if she's worried about you.”

His offer stunned Tate, and at the same time she was grateful. She really wasn't worried about the money, but now Mabel would agree to go. Sure enough, her friend slowly nodded.

“Perhaps I
should
go.”

When she tried to stand up, Hunter stopped her. “Wait until Tate gets her keys and then I'll carry you out to the car.”

Tate ran to grab her purse. When she returned, Hunter already had Mabel in his arms and was carrying her outside. Her sisters followed. Tate unlocked the car and stood back while he helped get all three of the Aunties situated and strapped in.

Then he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Mabel's
cheek. “Don't give the doctors too hard of a time. Let them do their job, Mabel.”

“I'm not a complete fool, young man. Now you go take care of things for Tate.”

“I will.”

If Tate hadn't been in such a hurry to get Mabel to the hospital, she would've given in to the urge to hug Hunter. She didn't care if he locked up the shop as soon as they were out of sight, but his promise to fill in would keep Mabel from fretting, especially if the ER was backed up and they had to wait.

She started the car and backed out onto the street. The road to town was too narrow and crooked for speed, but Mabel was in no obvious discomfort. Maybe they should've called the medics, but Tate could have her at the hospital in about the same time it would've taken an ambulance to get to the shop.

For once all three of the sisters were quiet, making the drive seem much longer than it actually was. But finally, Tate turned into the emergency entrance and pulled up under the overhang. After turning on her flashers, she ran inside the entrance to grab a wheelchair. A volunteer immediately came up to see if he could be of help.

“Yes, I have three elderly ladies out in the car. If you'd help the two in the backseat, I'll see to their sister in the front. She's the one who needs to see a doctor.”

“I'd be happy to.”

Tate mustered up what she hoped was a reassuring smile and headed out to help Mabel into the wheelchair.

• • •

Hunter poked around behind the counter to see where Tate kept everything. He suspected he shouldn't be serving food without some kind of official okay from the health department, but too bad. He could handle the demands of any customer. How hard could it be to fill pots with hot water and throw in some tea leaves?