Hunter's Fall (14 page)

Read Hunter's Fall Online

Authors: Shiloh Walker

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Paranormal, #Fiction

BOOK: Hunter's Fall
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CHAPTER 8
 
H
E didn’t know where he was when he woke up.
It was bright, that much he knew.
Bright . . . and he could smell Nessa.
Lavender.
She always smelled of it.
The scent was fading though, fading more and more.
Squinting his eyes against the harsh, bright light—too bright, it seemed—
He looked around, searching for her.
He wasn’t alone, though.
There was a woman with reddish blond hair. A man with dark red hair. But he didn’t see his wife.
He licked his lips, his mouth painfully dry. Bugger, his head
hurt
. Squinting at the woman, he asked, “Where is my wife?”
The woman’s brows drew together, a confused expression on her face. She looked as though she didn’t understand him. The man with her moved toward him and the woman reached out, laid a hand on his arm.
“Your wife?” the man asked, his voice low. The look in those dark blue eyes could have turned blood to ice.
Fear, worry, sank into him, cold and vicious.
“Yes. My
wife
.”
The woman continued to stare at him, the puzzled frown on her face giving way to a reassuring smile.
He didn’t want reassurance. He wanted his
wife
.
“Who are you looking for?” the man prodded.
“Are you daft?” he snarled. “My
wife.
Agnes.”
The woman went pale.
The man looked at him as though he’d lost his mind.
Pain throbbed behind his eyes. Darkness swirled.
“Your wife, you say? What’s your name, then?”
He had no time for this. He didn’t understand how he knew that, but he did. He had no time for questions or games. There had been trouble. She had been in danger—both of them had been.
He needed to find her—he’d already been away from her for far too long. How long . . . but even thinking about it had pain ripping through him.
Glaring at them, he swore under his breath and then went to push past them. His steps were unsteady and the ache in his head intensified. He reached up and touched the back of his head where the pain was the worst, touched something wet. His head felt strange, too soft, giving under his questing fingers.
A wave of dizziness washed over him as he lowered his hand and stared at the smear of blood.
Behind him, the man spoke.
“Elias . . . ?”
The pain in his head exploded, and like a stone, he dropped to the ground.
CHAPTER 9
 
M
ALACHI moved in a blur of motion, too quickly for her eyes to track him. After working with vampires for decades, one would think she’d get used to it. But their speed still caught her by surprise.
Kelsey saw Dominic stagger, then fall, but Malachi caught him before he could hit the ground.
He lifted his head and stared at Kelsey, his dark blue eyes unreadable, his face tight, hard as stone.
“
Elias
?” she repeated.
“He was Nessa’s husband.” Malachi’s voice was cold, flat, devoid of any accent, any emotion.
“I know who he was.” Kelsey swallowed past the tight knot in her throat. Confused, and more than a little freaked out, she looked at the unconscious vampire.
His voice had been different.
Seriously
different. She hadn’t understood him at first; the accent had been too thick. It had sounded vaguely British, but not quite. Older. Archaic, almost.
Rattled, Kelsey remembered the way Dominic had looked at them, like he’d never seen them before. Now
that
she could attribute to his head injury. Even vamps got their brains scrambled every now and then.
But there was also how he’d been acting earlier—the way he’d come at Malachi . . .
Where the fuck is she?
Blood pounded in her ears, and she rubbed her hand over the back of her neck as tension mounted there.
Who had he been looking for?
But deep inside, she knew.
Nessa.
Even though it had been more than a week since she’d been in the cabin, her scent would still linger, especially for those with sensitive noses, like vamps. He’d scented her . . . and somehow recognized her.
He was looking for Nessa.
Elias . . .
Even thinking about it made her head ache and pound. Something light and euphoric tried to dance its way into her heart, but she didn’t want to examine it too closely. Shattered hopes were often painful.
So instead of trying to think it through that very moment, Kelsey took the easy way—she focused on her job.
“Be careful with him,” she told her husband as he shifted the vampire in his arms. She drew on the cool cloak of serenity that kept her sane when she healed. “I need him on the bed, on his stomach so I can see his head.”
Without saying a word, Malachi did as she asked.
Kelsey grimaced as she gently probed the back of his head. The bone was still knitting together—he was healing, she could feel the energy as his body dealt with the damage. There was a lot of damage, too. If he’d been human, he’d be dead. As it was, it was taking quite a while, and he was going to be utterly drained once his body was done.
“I didn’t do . . .” Malachi’s voice faded off and then he took a deep breath, as though to brace himself. “Is he healing well?”
“Yeah.” She shot him a strained smile and said, “He just took a really bad blow. You bashed his head in. Although you didn’t seem too worried about that a moment ago.” She cocked a brow in his direction, wondering if he was thinking along the same lines as she was.
A muscle jerked in Malachi’s jaw. He stared at her, an impassive mask on his face. That careful lack of expression never boded well. Malachi hid his emotions when he was very, very pissed off, when he was hurt or when he was worried.
A few moments ago, he’d been angry, so angry it had stung her skin like hot little needles. But he wasn’t angry now and she knew he wasn’t hurt, either.
So he was worried.
Personally, Kelsey was scared shitless. Her mouth was dry and her heart raced away, pounding in her chest like she’d gone and popped some speed. Feigning casualness, she tried for a smile and asked, “So, do you believe in reincarnation?”
“Fuck me.” His face twisted in a scowl and he went to shove a hand through his hair and then stopped. He studied his bloodied hands and then went to the sink in the small kitchenette, scrubbing them clean. “I don’t know that I’m ready to have this conversation just yet, pet.”
“You better get ready,” she advised him. “I don’t think it’s one we’ll be able to put off.”
As he turned around, he took a towel from the counter and dried his hands, taking a lot more time with it than necessary. But Kelsey recognized the look on his face. That canny mind was turning everything over, looking at it from every possible angle.
Finally, he tossed the towel on the counter and then folded his arms over his chest. He stared at Dominic as he said, “I never met Elias. Nessa was young then, just a girl. It wasn’t until after Elias died and she came back to Brendain that I even met her. She was . . . broken.” A haunted look settled on his face and he closed his eyes, remembering the girl who had arrived at Brendain—the home of the Hunters. “So broken,” he murmured. “You wouldn’t recognize her, you know. She’s not the woman that you’d remember. Lost and uncertain. Terrified.”
Malachi opened his eyes, gazing off into the distance. He wasn’t seeing her. He was too lost in his memories.
“I have forgotten more of my life than I’ve remembered.” His voice was rough and low, thick with the sounds of Scotland. So often, Malachi could speak without any trace of an accent, but at certain times, it slipped out . . . like when he was grieving, as he obviously was now. “But I canna forget the first time I met her. So sad, she was. Poor little lass, so broken and so angry. They killed Elias, right in front of her. There was a man in her village—he wanted Nessa for his own, you see.”
He sighed and opened his eyes, staring once more at Dominic’s still body. “For years after he died, she waited. Bloody hell, all her
life
she waited. He’d promised her—told her he would come back. Come back for her. So she waited. And waited.”
Abruptly, he spun around and slammed a fist into the marble countertop. It cracked under the blow and Kelsey saw his blood splatter. His head bowed, he rasped, “She waited for five hundred fucking years.”
She checked Dominic one more time and then moved to join her husband. Slipping her arms around his waist, she rested her brow against his back. As she did, she lowered her shields.
Malachi sensed it, tensing. The tension slowly melted away as she let her magic work . . . the pain, she couldn’t help with, but she could ease some of his confusion. His big body shuddered in her embrace and then he turned in her arms, cuddling her close. Resting his forehead against hers, he whispered, “Five hundred years, Kelsey.”
“I know.” She rubbed her mouth against his, a gentle, soothing kiss. Then she pulled back, snuggling close and resting her cheek against the hard, muscled wall of his chest. “Do you think it’s possible?”
“I don’t know.” He lowered his mouth, kissing the top of her head. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was looking at Dominic. Looking and wondering. “I haven’t the slightest fucking clue.”
Knowing Malachi, that probably had him as bewildered as the puzzle of Dominic. Malachi, it seemed,
always
knew what to do.
He sighed and stroked his hands down her arms. “We have problems, pet.”
Easing back, Kelsey looked at him, a rueful smirk on her lips. “Such an understatement. We’ll handle it, though. We just need to let him wake up and then we’ll see if we can figure out what’s going on.
Before
he finds Nessa.”
“No.” Malachi shook his head. “He’s not the problem I was talking about. It’s Nessa.”
Wincing, Kelsey said, “Please tell me she isn’t in trouble again . . . not already. She hasn’t even been gone two weeks.”
“I don’t know if she’s in trouble or not,” Malachi said, scowling. He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes on the floor. “I can’t tell where she is . . . how she is doing. Kelsey, she’s missing.”
“Missing?” Kelsey frowned. “What exactly do you mean by
missing
?”
Once more, he had that remote, expressionless mask in place. “Just that, pet. She’s missing, and I can’t sense her. I’d wager you can’t, either.”
There had been a time not too long ago when Nessa had served on the Council. Over time, the Council members forged a bond, a way of tracing each other. It was a handy thing, especially for vampires who could dematerialize—like Malachi—or witches with the ability to fly—not through the air, but just disappear from one place and arrive in another in the blink of an eye.
Lowering her gaze, Kelsey reached inward and focused.
A lump settled in her throat as she looked up at her husband. She swallowed and tried to speak around it, although it felt like it was choking her. “You’re right. I can’t feel her.”
 
 
T
HE lumpy mattress was uncomfortable as hell. Rolling onto her side, she pounded her pillow with her fist and then snuggled up, drifting back into sleep.
Back into her dreams.
He was there. They were together, lying on a bed, and he stroked his hand up and down her arm. Midnight black hair framed a lean, golden face . . . an angel’s face, she thought. He was as pretty as an angel. His dark brown eyes stared into hers and he smiled.
“I miss you when you’re not here,” he murmured.
Pushing up onto her elbows, she smiled and kissed him. “Then I should just stay here all the time.”
“You’re never here. I’m never here.” Then he sighed and rested a hand on her stomach. “Why is it taking so long?”
“What?”
He opened his mouth but instead of speaking, he bellowed, a deep, gut-wrenching sound of sheer agony. Startled, she jerked back and then she screamed, too.
He was bleeding. It was just a few spots at first, staining the tunic he wore. But it grew, and grew, a vicious rose of death. “No.”
Tears spilled out of her eyes and she rested a hand on the wound, summoned the power. She could heal him. She knew how—she could do it.
But the magic wasn’t there.
“You haven’t learned how to heal yet,” he said, his voice quiet and level, as though his heart wasn’t pumping his life’s blood out of him.
“I know how to heal,” she whispered. She knew how—
But it was too late.
He was already dead, and even as she bent over him, sobbing, his body began to shrivel until it was nothing but dust. She sobbed and pounded her fists against the bed where he had lain. “Damn it, come back! You swore to me, you bloody bastard. You swore you would come back to me!”

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