Riven

by Kait Nolan

  “So if it wasn’t a Council Hunter guy, who was he?”

  “I don’t know.” Marley’s unlocked memory was raising more questions than answers. “But it begs the question of what the hell your parents were into. If she’d seen something accidentally, like you did, it wouldn’t have led to this, so it must’ve been something bigger. More involved.”

  Something shifted in Marley’s face, surprise and confusion bursting off her.

  “Did you remember something else?”

  “No.”

  She was holding something back. Ian gauged the likelihood that it had anything to do with their current situation as low, so he didn’t push.

  Marley tapped a finger against the sketch. “Is he still a threat?”

  “After all these years, I doubt it. If they were going to track you, they’d have done it by now.”

  “That’s something, I guess.”

  Hating the discouraged expression on her face, Ian shoved back from the table. “C’mon. Let’s head on into town and see to it that no one can be a threat from here on out.”

  ~*~

  Gatlinburg was a tactical nightmare. Bumper to bumper traffic on the two-lane parkway made vehicular escape impossible, and the crowds made spotting a tail exceedingly difficult. The narrow passageways between the kitschy mountain architecture might have been an asset if he’d been at full physical capacity, but with his defective leg, he wouldn’t be able to run in a foot chase. Not that running had ever been his first choice of response. All in all, nothing about this set up was ideal except that Gatlinburg was such a mecca for the weird that the odd Mirus denizen didn’t stand out in the least. And anyway, beggars couldn’t be choosers. This was their only option. The fewer of his deep contacts he had to plumb, the better.

  A sudden wave of dizziness sent him stumbling.

  Marley’s arm was there in a flash, steadying him. “You okay?”

  No. “Fine.” He needed to feed. In Washington he’d been subsisting on the bare minimum his system required. The last time he’d really fed had been the night Marley was attacked. The last time he’d skimmed was a middle of nowhere gas station on the drive to Tennessee, but it had barely been enough to keep his abilities functional, his instincts in check. He couldn’t risk a repeat of what had happened in Detroit. His reflexes were dulling. He’d be no good to her if he didn’t find someone to skim and soon.

  Emotion clouded Ian’s vision, a swirling palette of irritation, impatience, and excitement. A fountain of ruby anger had him jerking his attention toward a couple standing outside a souvenir shop. He could smell the acrid tang of fury mixing with the scent of sweat on the breeze. His instincts screamed to follow the trail, urging him to lay hands on them, to absorb the woman’s fury and the man’s embarrassment until this bottomless well of hunger abated…

  The blare of a horn had him jerking to a stop, one foot hovering off the curb into parkway traffic. His heart thundered, his chest heaved.

  “Did you see something?” Marley’s grip on his arm was tight where she’d started to pull him back. She craned her head to look across the street.

  The sudden spike in her anxiety made his senses strain toward her.

  Oh this was bad. This was so bad.

  Ian struggled to lock down his instincts, to keep from enhancing and absorbing the emotion beating like a drum against his palm. He shouldn’t be touching her. Shouldn’t be anywhere near her in this state.

  Closing his eyes, he dug deep for control.

  “Ian?”

  Her hand on his cheek. Warm, soft. Her touch steadied him. Her sweet floral scent curled around him and soothed the beast, assuaged the insatiable hunger. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough, and that realization sent horror punching through him.

  Had he inadvertently fed? Automatically he checked Marley’s vitals, read her emotional grid. Still worried, but about him, not the situation. She had none of the burgeoning anxiety that would result from the parasitic touch of his mind. Somehow, she was still safe, even though he felt at the edge of losing control. He didn’t understand it, but now was not the time to question or analyze.

  Ian opened his eyes and mustered a faint smile. “It’s nothing. Just tired. C’mon, Levi’s shop is about another half mile up the strip.”

  Marley didn’t return the smile. The shades of her temper made it quite clear she didn’t buy it, but she moved when he did.

  It would be fine. No one knew they were here. With luck, Levi would have a cloaking spell. They’d get Marley masked and get the hell off the streets.

  They moved at a brisker pace this time, weaving through the crowds.

  “Slow down,” Marley said.

  He glanced down at her. “Am I moving too fast for you?”

  “No, but you look like you’re in the big city. It makes us stick out. People are noticing us.”

  He made another quick survey. She was right. They hadn’t garnered any outright stares, but certainly a handful of curious watchers noted their hurried progress.

  “We’re on vacation, honey,” said Marley, pitching her voice so others could hear. “Not headed to a board meeting. Chill out a little.” She tugged him to a halt in front of a fudge shop. Beyond the window, a man performed deft confectionery acrobatics with chocolate and a big wooden paddle.

  From the corner of his eye, Ian noted some of the watchers smiling in amusement and going on their way.

  He was new at this, at trying to blend in outside the shadows. At any other time, he’d be skating through without a sound or sign. But not with her. Not when her trust in him hinged on her thinking he was human.

  Ian slid an arm around her, tucked her close to his side. She held herself stiff for a few moments before relaxing into the embrace. “You’re right.” He turned to nuzzle above her ear and dropped his voice. “Hiding in plain sight isn’t my forte.”

  He felt the barest shiver shudder through her and had to fight the urge not to linger. Easing back, he said, “How do you feel about fudge?”

  “Fudge?” she asked faintly.

  “I prefer peanut butter fudge myself, although the caramel swirl is pretty incredible. C’mon, you should try some.”

  Despite the urgency beating in his blood to get to Levi’s, get this over and done, he pulled her inside the fudge shop and up to the counter. They could take a few minutes to do this simple, normal thing. Blend in with the tourists.

  The heady smell of chocolate overpowered everything else. Half a dozen people were inside, all exuding vibrant shades of happiness and relaxation as they browsed the selection and tasted samples. A woman dipping into her purchase as she left the shop exploded into an orgasmic fuchsia starburst. Damn, that must be some good fudge. It was a startling contrast to what he usually sought out and noticed.

  “What can I get you?” asked the woman behind the counter. Her smile took in the arm he still had wrapped around Marley and widened. “We’ve got a red velvet fudge that’s currently a favorite among our love birds.”

  Ian blinked at her. Love birds?

  “I can always tell the newlyweds,” the woman drawled. “You’ve all got that extra special glow about you. How long have y’all been married?”

  Marley gave his waist a subtle pinch as she grinned in response. “You’re good. Six days.”

  “Fresh from the altar,” the woman chirped. “Where are y’all coming from?”

  “Little bitty town in North Dakota. Thought we’d come down south, try the food. The red velvet fudge sounds fabulous. Do you have some samples we could try?”

  “Why certainly. You’ve definitely come to the right place for food. If you’ve got the time, you should head up to the Smoky Mountain Brewery. They’ve got an amazing selection of microbrews and the best pizza in town.”

  “We’ll be sure to do that,” said Marley.

  The shopkeeper bustled away and Marley arched a brow, challenging him to play along.

  Married? Newlyweds? What the hell did he know about how they acted? S
uch domesticity wasn’t part of his world.

  Ian bent close and whispered, “North Dakota?”

  “Have you ever been there?” she asked softly.

  “No.”

  “Neither has anybody else.”

  The woman came back offering the tiny cubes of dark red fudge. Marley plucked one off the tray and brought it to Ian’s lips. “Sweets for the sweet,” she said.

  He opened his mouth and took it from her, flicking his tongue over the tips of her fingers to catch the last crumbs of chocolate. As the taste of it bloomed in his mouth, Marley’s eyes went dark, her pupils springing wide. Awareness arced between them, and for a moment, Ian forgot everything but the feel of her pressed against him. A lazy pink curl of lust tinged with traces of surprise and confusion unfurled around her. She swallowed.

  “It’s good,” he said. Wanting to put her at ease, he reached out, grabbed another of the candies and offered it to her. “But this sweet’s got nothing on you.”

  Marley snorted a half laugh before parting her lips and nipping the fudge neatly from his fingers. “See, you can learn to play.”

  The shopkeeper sighed. “I love newlyweds.”

  “We’ll take a pound,” said Ian.

  As the clerk turned to begin wrapping their purchase, Marley eased away to browse the other treats in the shop. Ian let her go because, despite her flirtation, she was still unsettled by her reaction to him. And frankly, so was he. Certainly he’d felt attraction to females in the past. Acted on it from time to time between missions. But those encounters had been superficial, forgettable.

  Nothing about Marley was superficial or forgettable.

  The corona of betrayal had faded. It wasn’t the same as forgiveness, but he’d take what he could get. He’d fucked up. And maybe that was a good thing. They needed something to keep some safe distance between them.

  “Just let me know when you’re ready to check out,” called the clerk.

  Ian took a breath and crossed to his faux bride. It was time to get back on mission. “You want anything else?”

  She shook her head and followed him back to the counter. Ian paid for the fudge and grabbed the bag.

  “Y’all come back now! And enjoy your honeymoon!” called the shopkeeper.

  Marley waved behind them as they stepped back out on the street. As soon as the door closed behind them, Ian tensed, sensing the eyes on them.

  “What’s wrong?” Marley’s voice was level, but the sudden burst of fear clouded his vision for a moment.

  Ian cast out his other senses, scanning the crowds, searching.

  “Ian?”

  Opposite side of the street. Southbound. Ian kept his expression bland as he curled his free hand tightly around Marley’s and nudged her northward. “Honeymoon’s over.”

  “What?”

  “He found us.”

  Chapter 8

  Marley’s stomach pitched as fear bit into her with ravenous teeth. She started to jerk her head around to look for their pursuer, but a short sharp tug had her snapping forward. Ian wrapped an arm around her to move her through the crowd.

  “Don’t look back,” he murmured. “Don’t look around. Just keep moving forward.”

  She could tell by his voice he was back in his element. The body moving beside hers was taut, fluid but for the slight drag of his bad leg. He was good at weaving them in and out of the crowd, picking up the pace subtly but not so much to attract attention.

  “We stick to the public space. He won’t try to take you in front of so many witnesses. His mission prerogative is to remain unnoticed.”

  Marley didn’t ask what was going to happen when they got out of here. As busy as Gatlinburg was at this time of day, it wouldn’t stay that way. And then the Hunter would have a clear path.

  “Just keep moving,” Ian repeated.

  She did, trying to school her features, her breathing into something that didn’t resemble flagrant, mind-numbing terror. She wasn’t alone in this. Ian was here. Despite her reservations about how he’d handled things in Detroit, she was grateful for his presence.

  Think, she ordered herself. Pay attention. You are not without survival skills.

  Shoving back the panic, she focused on her surroundings. People ebbed and flowed around them, a continuous river of tourists. Using shop window reflections, she checked out the crowd behind them. In the pane of a bay window she saw the man dart across the street to a chorus of angry horn blasts. He wore a long black duster, too warm for the weather. She could just see the tip of some kind of glove on his left hand.

  “Is that him?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Nothing about him screamed threatening or supernatural. He looked…human. Then again, they’d hardly send some green-skinned lizard monster or a vampire with dripping, bloody fangs out into the heart of a tourist destination in broad daylight. Scarlett had seemed human until she’d jumped off that ledge. The thick crowds seemed to part before him, a subtle shift that let him eat up ground with long legs.

  “He’s gaining on us,” Marley hissed.

  “It will be all right,” said Ian.

  She really wished she believed that.

  He shifted, pulling something from his pocket and pressing it into her hand. Marley glanced down at the embossed silver disk. “I don’t understand.”

  “Put it somewhere safe,” he ordered. “Keep it close. About a quarter mile up the strip, just past the Pancake Pantry, you’ll see a brick entrance for a little shopping center called The Village. You’re going to run to the back, past the fountain. Look for the spice shop. Inside you’re going to go to the back wall and use that key. Careful no one’s looking when you do. That will give you access to Levi’s shop in the back. Tell him I sent you and that I’m calling in the favor he owes me.”

  “And what do you plan to be doing while I’m running?” she demanded.

  “Buying you some time.”

  “Are you crazy? You’re about to fall over. I’m not leaving you behind.” The grayish pallor of his skin made his eyes look bottomless and hollow.

  “Marley, there’s no time to argue about this.” He tugged her into an entryway, out of the flow of traffic and pulled her close. “This is the best chance you’ve got.” The hand cupping her cheek seemed to grow hot, a sharp punch of heat that burst over her like a wave before soaking into her skin. She felt an odd little pull and swayed. “Ian?” The dam shattered and adrenaline dumped into her system as all the fear she’d been holding back broke free.

  He shoved her into the flow of people. “Run!” he snapped.

  For a long humming beat she stared at him.

  “Run!”

  Urgency beat in her blood, the song of the hunted as her body recognized itself as prey. Marley turned, her muscles coiled for flight, instinct demanding she do as he’d asked. From the corner of her eye she saw him slump against the wall.

  “Ian!”

  The Hunter noted it too, tipping his head in a strangely reptilian motion before swiveling his attention back to her and continuing his relentless pursuit.

  Ian struggled upright, pushing away from the wall and stumbling back into the flow of people. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he sick? Poisoned? Under some kind of mental attack? Clearly he was in no shape to fight.

  Panic was an electric current in her body. Marley fought to get past it, to look around and think.

  Run.

  She could all but hear Ian in her mind, feel his will pushing her to follow his orders. Eddies of people whirled around her as the Hunter prowled closer.

  From the day they’d met, Ian had continually put himself between her and danger, done what he thought was right, regardless of her distrust or the difficulties presented. He hadn’t abandoned her, even when it would’ve made his life easier. She couldn’t abandon him. So Marley did the only thing she could think of.

  She screamed.

  All around her, people stopped what they were doing to stare. She’d wanted their
attention, and she had it. Leveling a finger at the Hunter she shouted, “Help me! This man’s trying to kidnap me! Help me, please!”

  The Hunter’s jaw dropped open a little in surprise, and he pulled up short, his hands upraised in a non-threatening gesture, his face set in an expression of shock.

  Marley began to edge toward Ian, still screaming. “Someone find the police! Arrest this guy!”

  Across the street, a half dozen leather clad bikers shoved up from their seats at an outdoor restaurant and jumped over the wrought iron railing. They ran toward the Hunter, mouths drawn in grim lines. Marley saw the flash of brass knuckles, the glint of a knife as they rushed to surround him.

  She took advantage of the resulting confusion and darted toward Ian. He reeled, weaving as he walked. She ducked under his arm to take some of his weight and direct his motions. As soon as his weight settled across her shoulders, the fear abated and she could think more clearly.

  “You’re crazy,” he said.

  “You’re sick or something. Come on.” She started to drag him further down the strip, toward The Village.

  “No, not Levi’s. Not now. We can’t bring the attention. Through there.”

  Marley followed his instructions, half dragging him as they cut into a knickknack shop. For half a second she paused at the door, glancing over her shoulder to see a man watching her from the crowd. Tall with electric blue eyes she could see from fifty feet away and a vertical white scar slashing down his left cheek. Another Hunter? She checked for the gauntlet, but his forearms were bare.

  “Marley,” Ian croaked.

  She snapped her attention back to him, glancing once more over her shoulder at the watcher. But he was gone, eaten up by the crowd detaining the Hunter. She ducked into the shop. Everyone inside pressed to the front window, watching the debacle going on outside. No one noticed them slip into the back storeroom and out the back door onto an alley. The door shut behind them, and Ian stumbled, his greater weight almost bringing her to her knees. Marley wrapped her arm more firmly around him and braced to better support him. “What did he do to you?” she demanded.

  “Nothing. Not related…to…the Hunter. I’ll be…okay. Just leave me…Go back to the cabin. Get supplies and go.”