Immortal Coil (10 page)

He looked furious and ready to bowl her over. She searched for a place to run or hide, but there wasn’t one.

No, brace yourself and meet his gaze.

But Grey stumbled to a halt.
“Mother of All, Hunter.
What the hell happened?”

Grab him.

You want me to what?

Hunter seized control of her body, closed the distance between her and Grey and yanked the front of his dress shirt. He brought her cheek to Grey’s and hissed. And for a moment she didn’t feel entirely human. No, it was Hunter, not her. There was something feral, something primal about him. Part of the same whatever it was that she’d glimpsed when he’d lost his temper in the hotel. He filled her thoughts, as if his soul was too big for her tiny body.

Grey grabbed the front of her coat, pulled her in until their chests touched and hissed back. Then he shoved her back and widened his stance. His tongue flicked out between his lips.

She heard herself chuckle. “I thought you were giving up that habit.”

Grey shrugged. “Where have you been?”

Now it was her turn to shrug.
Against her will.

Damn it. She wanted her body back.

Hey. Hunter.
He didn’t answer and she could sense him determined not to let anyone know anything was wrong. But, damn it, it was her body and he’d promised not to take over. Well, if nice wasn’t going to work, maybe force would. She’d done it before, if only she could remember how. She pressed against his consciousness, but couldn’t break his hold on her.

“I’ve been on assignment.”

“Yeah, well, Regis has been trying to call you.”

“Things got complicated.”

“I can see that. You never struck me as a gender hopper.” Grey glanced over his shoulder at the archway. “Have you had the new digs long enough to connect to the earth’s magic?”

Hunter’s emotions surged, and it felt like it had something to do with magic, but
Anaea
couldn’t place it.

“If I’d been in this body long enough do you think I would have gone to Jade to enter Court?”

“Shit.”

“What’s going on?”

“There’s been—”

“Hunter,” a new voice called from down the same hall where Grey had come from. Hunter recognized the voice as his Prince’s, but his emotions about the man were mixed.

Anaea
thought about the primal, feral aspect to Hunter. Perhaps man wasn’t the right word. He’d said he was from a race of spirits. He hadn’t said what kind of spirits, although if he hadn’t been human, she had no idea what else he could be.

A swarthy, heavyset man, Prince Regis stepped into the chamber dressed like Henry VIII. Or maybe it was his girth that made him seem like those pictures of the English king. Half a dozen men and women in a strange array of historical garb, all matched to
Regis’s
orange, beige, and gold, clustered behind him.

Both Hunter and Grey dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.

Anaea
struggled to twitch a finger, blink her eyes, something,
anything, that
would get her back in control.

“I see your hunting was complicated.” The Prince motioned for them to rise.

Anaea
put all her will into not standing, but Hunter remained in control.

“To put it mildly,” Hunter said. “You’ll need a second body for the rebirth ceremony. Tell
Pearl
’s doyen the Major Green Coterie can have her hoard.”

The image of a tall woman, a hooded cloak shadowing her face, flashed into
Anaea’s
mind.

Regis narrowed his
eyes,
the only indication Hunter might have said something he didn’t like. “I see. But you got Saber?”

“Yes. Would my Prince like a report?”

Regis faked a yawn. Hunter had seen that too many times to count. “Not personally. You’ve been called to
wasu
tahazu
.”

A small, hunched man in an orange and black harlequin costume shoved through the crowd, clapping hooked, arthritic hands.
“Goodie, goodie.
A fight.”

“I’ve what?” Indignation washed over
Anaea
and what little flashes she’d received of Hunter’s memories were cut off.

“That’s what I was going to tell you,” Grey mumbled.

The small man cackled.

“Who?”
Hunter’s fury boiled around her, and he clenched his hands, fighting to control it.

Anaea
unclenched her right hand. Strange, she’d have thought his emotions would have made his grip on her body stronger. She seized her chance and shoved him to the back of her mind.

Not now!
he
growled.

This is my body and you promised.

I did, but—

Are you kidding me? No!

Grey shrugged as if the situation didn’t bother him like it did Hunter, but she could tell from the look in his eyes he was just as troubled.

“Welkin,” Grey said.

“Welkin.
Welkin,” the harlequin giggled.

Regis glared at him and he fell silent, shying away. “It’s his right to call for
wasu
tahazu
.”

Ask him when the
wasu
tahazu
is. Maybe we’ll get lucky.

“When’s the...
wasu
tahazu
.” The words felt strange on her lips even to her who spoke nine languages.

“He called for it last night, on the second day of the
pahar
,
as is also his right.”

Shit.

Hunter’s thoughts whipped through her. No one had challenged him for his position in Court in six hundred years. It didn’t make any sense to start now, unless
Zenobia
was using the
wasu
tahazu
as a backup plan. He wouldn’t put it past her.

So what does all this mean?
she
asked, her head swimming at the thought that Hunter had been alive, more or less, for six hundred years. Of course Jade had referred to him as a Crusader. Perhaps she hadn’t just meant his outlook on life.

It means we have to fight a duel to the death.
Now.

But you’re already a spirit.

Trust me, death comes in many forms. And for me to die, you have to die.

Death is kind of a moot point,
Anaea
said.

It’s not to me.

She couldn’t see how that worked since he was already dead.

Give me control of your body.

She bit her lip, about to refuse. A duel to the death wasn’t something she knew how to deal with. In the back of her mind she had the nagging feeling she knew how to fight, but that could only be because of Hunter. She was a linguist.
Nothing more.
For the last year she’d been her disease—and that kind of fight, while still involving death, had nothing to do with fists.

Or magic,
Hunter said.

Stop eavesdropping.

He sighed.
Darling, I wish I could. But first I have a
wasu
tahazu
to win.

You mean
we
have a
wasu
tahazu
to win. It’s still my body.

“I trust you’ll be around to report to Tobias when this is done.” Regis chuckled. It held a strange joy, as if the thrill that Hunter might not be around to report excited him. The group around him matched the laugh with nervous titters. “You’re permitted to go to your room and change. Don’t tarry.” His voice
darkened,
a warning. Stalling would show weakness and the Prince’s Assassin could not be weak.

Nod and take the hall to your left,
Hunter said.

Anaea
obeyed. The hall was the same as the cold receiving chamber. The walls, floor, and ceiling were rough-hewn granite. There were no windows and she couldn’t tell where the light emanated from. Grey fell into step beside her.

So I’m thinking now is the time to tell me a little more about my... our situation.

“Welkin is young.” Grey ran a hand over his hair, doing nothing to tame it. “If you were in your old body the fight wouldn’t be much of a match.”

But he wasn’t in his old body.

And as soon as I find a new one you won’t have to worry about me.

“The point is kind of moot,”
Anaea
said, hoping Grey wouldn’t continue the conversation.
I think if we’re going to fight to the death, a girl should know what kind of trouble she’s gotten into.

“Moot?” Grey asked.

Damn,
Anaea
, I wouldn’t have said moot.

“Do you have any earth magic?”

Anaea
shrugged. It seemed like a Hunter kind of thing to do. “Don’t know. Remember, had to use the Gatekeeper to get here.”

They walked in silence until they reached another large empty chamber that could just as easily be the same one they’d left.

Take the hall to your right, down the stairs at the end, sixth door on the left,
Hunter said.
And please. I know I promised, but give me control of your body.

Fine.
She tried to relax, while still walking and not revealing anything to Grey. If only she could stop for a moment. Sit, take a few long breaths. That might make it easier to let go. He slid around her thoughts, but that sense that she was trapped in her head never came. It was her walking, breathing, seeing.

Just relax. I’ll give it back.

She didn’t think that was the problem. Well, maybe it was. It was her body, after all.

Perhaps if I sit.

Fine.
We’ll try again when we get to my suite.

How fancy. The man had a suite.

The stairs at the end of the hall were wide and wound both up and down, disappearing into dark shadows. She followed it down one level then counted doors and stopped at the sixth one.

“I’ll wait outside.” Grey gave her an appraising look. “Better yet, I’ll find you clean clothes that fit. Maybe that will buy you enough time to find your new magic. If you have any... which I’m sure you do... because you’ve never not.”

She considered saying thanks, but didn’t think Hunter was a thank you kind of guy. Instead, she nodded and gripped the door handle. A shiver of electricity raced up her arm and touched something in her mind.
No, not something.
Hunter. The door recognized Hunter. The lock clicked opened and she entered.

The room was not what she expected. She wasn’t sure what she expected, or that she’d been expecting anything. Perhaps she’d been thinking his suite would be distinctly male.
Sleek, modern, nothing overly sentimental.
But the moment she walked into the room she was surrounded by sky: summer sky, stormy sky,
sky
with puffy clouds, sunset, sunrise, vast expanses of it on canvas, tapestry, and photographic paper. Even the ceiling was a sky mural. The art was crowded on the walls, covering every available square inch. More pieces sat on display on easels while others were piled in the corners and against the walls and furniture.

On the left wall, framed by more art, sat a large bookshelf, half filled with books and half with mini skies.
To her right was a conversation area with a worn leather couch and matching chair, a carved wooden trunk between them. Above the couch on the wall hung an enormous sword, the edge nicked and the leather grip worn down to the wood. A shield, almost as big as her, leaned against the couch. It looked like it had been used, with chunks hacked from its edges. The paint was faded, a green and yellow background with a black dragon dead center.

Strangely, Hunter had been quiet. Not interrupting her thoughts or inserting some quip. He seemed... melancholy. Looking at all that sky made her ache. But it was an old pain. Whatever kept him silent was new, fresh, as if he missed the man he’d once been and was content with her making her own opinions.

She supposed it didn’t matter any more since he was now at the bottom of the
Allegheny River
. That man was no more. And he had been that man for a very long time. If she ignored all rational thought, then perhaps the sword and shield had been his.

Of course, could she even consider any logical thought? She had the spirit of a man, or something, stuck in her head. The sense that Hunter wasn’t quite man, but something else, something feral, made her shiver.

Anaea
turned her attention to the bookshelf. She didn’t want to think about what Hunter was or was not. There was an out-of-place collection of Louis
L’Amour
westerns on the top shelf, the paper covers creased and torn. The rest of the books were leather-bound
hardcovers
. She ran her fingers across the spines and stopped at a random book. She tipped it out of the shelf and opened the cover. The paper was dry and yellow with age.