The lion stood motionless, gazing at a very tall woman who stood in the water. She had silver hair flowing from a high forehead to float near her feet, and her skin was also silver, almost iridescent, flashing green and gold in the filtered sunlight. The hand she held out to Mukasa had webbing between the fingers, and thin webbing framed her face, slicking back to her head to become her hair.
Leda stared in amazement. She’d never seen the woman before, and Leda had been working on the island for a year. “What the hell is that?” she whispered.
Samantha, breathing hard, said, “Something with very strong life magic.”
The branch Hunter held trickled little droplets of water to his skin. “Undine—a water spirit. This must be her territory.”
“Her territory? But I’ve been up here plenty—I’ve never seen her or even heard of her.”
Hunter shrugged in his maddening way. “Maybe she had no reason to show herself.”
He ducked under the branch and stepped into the clearing, not disguising his approach. The Undine lifted her head and saw him, but she didn’t flee or disappear back to wherever she’d come from. She stood and waited, her hand on Mukasa’s shoulder, for Hunter to reach her. Shadows rippled across her body like mist, obscuring her for a moment before dispersing again.
Hunter stopped in front of her. The Undine’s voice drifted to Leda like the rustle of leaves. “Immortal.”
“That’s me,” Hunter said. “Who are you?”
“I am called Dyanne,” she said, then her voice went low, and Leda couldn’t hear what she was saying to him.
Leda continued to hold the branch Hunter had lifted, frozen in place. Samantha stood beside her, her slim hands pressed together, fingertips on her lips. The two of them watched, mesmerized, as Hunter and the Undine talked, then Hunter turned and reached out a hand. “Leda.”
As though a force pulled her, Leda left the trees and walked through the damp undergrowth to where Hunter and the woman waited. The sound of the water grew louder, and the woman shimmered as she turned to watch Leda approach.
“You are the witch.” The Undine’s voice was light as gossamer, but she spoke haltingly, as though she found English difficult. “You care for the creatures.” She stroked Mukasa’s forehead, and the lion half closed his eyes in enjoyment.
“I do,” Leda answered.
Dyanne’s hair shimmered as she inclined her head. Leda looked into the silver depths of her eyes and sensed a powerful and ancient magic.
“Her people are the water spirits of this place.” Hunter said. “She’s been watching you and likes your kindness.”
“Oh.” For some reason, Leda grew embarrassed. “Thank you.”
“We have lived here for . . .” Dyanne broke off as she groped for a word. “Millennia. On this island, nothing changed. Until you came and built.”
“The man who donated the island to the Institute didn’t know anyone lived here,” Leda said quickly. He’d owned it as an investment then donated it for the tax write-off, probably never setting foot on it in his life.
Hunter went on. “She was afraid you’d drive her people out. But they watched you and realized you weren’t going to violate their territory. They approve of you.”
“I’m glad. I guess.” Leda frowned. “What would they have done if they hadn’t approved?”
“Either left to look for another island, or killed you,” Hunter said.
Looking into Dyanne’s enigmatic silver eyes, Leda believed him. The Undine might like her and Mukasa, but there was no kindness in her. Acceptance and admiration, but no gentleness. She possessed the distance Leda had seen in older vampires or ancient Sidhe, removal from a world that moved on quickly while they watched.
Dyanne fixed Leda with her impenetrable stare. “My people are dying,” she announced.
Leda blinked. “Because of me and the Institute?”
“Because life magic drains from the world at a rapid pace. The . . .” she said a harsh-sounding word and looked to Hunter for guidance.
“Demons,” he supplied.
“Demons suck it dry. A great power is at work, and as the magic is siphoned away, we Undine sicken and die. Today, when we felt the magic that kept the powerful demon from us, we knew a great one—an Immortal—had been sent to the island. Our hope had come.”
“I wasn’t sent here,” Hunter interrupted, his rough baritone a contrast to Dyanne’s silken voice. “When the Calling spell grabbed me I saw my brother Adrian with a witch—not Leda. I don’t know where they were. Then something broke the spell and flung me all the way out here.”
“You were sent,” the Undine said with conviction. “You arrived where you were needed most.”
Hunter looked unconvinced. “The island is protected now by my shield. The life magic will hold.”
“For how long?” Dyanne asked. “How long until the darkness eats everything in the outer world? Some of our people have already fallen ill and need healing.” She turned her silver eyes full force on Hunter. “Please, Immortal. Find out what is happening. Stop it. Heal us.”
Hunter glanced at Leda. She couldn’t read what was in his eyes any more than she could Dyanne’s, but she knew he struggled with something inside himself, something he hadn’t shared with her.
“You want my brother,” Hunter told the Undine. “Tain is the healer.”
“I know not of this Tain,” Dyanne said. “But we have you.”
Hunter fingered the leather straps that held his sword in place on his back. Leda couldn’t imagine a problem that Hunter couldn’t handle, but he seemed uncertain how to answer.
“I can hunt up my brother for you,” he repeated. “Tain can heal your people.”
Dyanne studied him a long moment, her gaze flickering as though reading something in him. “You will find him. But when you do, you will be forced to choose a path. Walking either one will be painful for you, but you must choose.”
Hunter frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Do not linger here, Immortal. The world needs you. We need you.” Dyanne turned her strange eyes full force on Leda. “You too will have to choose a path.”
“I can’t leave my animals,” Leda said without hesitation.
“They will be in good hands.” Dyanne’s voice faded, like a breeze among rain. She turned without saying good-bye and began to glide away.
“Wait a sec,” Leda called. “You need to explain more than that. What paths?”
The Undine didn’t look back. She disappeared under the trees, her body blending with the spray of the waterfall. One moment she was there; the next, a glimmer of sunlight shot through the water, and she was gone. Mukasa lifted his head and let out a breathy grunt.
“You said it, my friend,” Hunter told him. “Water spirits enjoy being cryptic.”
“She’s partly right,” Leda said. “Nothing happens without a reason.”
Hunter flicked a green gaze to her. “What, you agree with her?”
“About you being sent here, yes. Think about it. Of all the places you could have landed, you ended up in Mukasa’s enclosure, just before Valdez’s men came to try to take him back. I’d never have been able to stop them on my own.”
Hunter gave a conceding nod, but didn’t answer.
“Plus, you are probably the only being I was likely to meet who is able to free me of the death magic. Then the Coven, who hasn’t spoken to me in a year, sends Samantha here for my help. Now that my magic is no longer tainted, I can help her. You let Mukasa out of his compound, and he goes straight to the Undine, who needs you.” Leda took a breath. “You see? The universe has a pattern. It never does anything without a reason.”
Hunter didn’t look at her, studying the spray of the waterfall. “You think so?”
“I know so. The universe—maybe the Goddess—wants us to go back to the mainland and help these people. It needs us to.”
Hunter kept watching the spot where Dyanne had disappeared, then he turned back to Leda, th
e light in his green eyes harsh. “I don’t mind contacting Tain. If I can find him. Or even locating Adrian and figuring out what’s going on. But you aren’t going anywhere, Leda. You aren’t leaving this island until the outside world is safe again.”
Chapter Seven
Leda didn’t get a chance to have it out with Hunter about his arrogant statement until much later.
The three of them and Mukasa descended the cliff path, Leda explaining to Samantha on the way down what Dyanne had told them, because Hunter wouldn’t speak. Taro met them at the bottom, sniffing Leda over as though he could determine everything that had happened by scent, and maybe he could. Bears were keen smellers and quite smart.
Taro and Mukasa returned on their own to their enclosures, knowing it was late afternoon and time to be fed. Hunter helped Leda with that chore, though Samantha elected to stay well out of it.
A huge freezer behind the house held chunks of raw meat carefully portioned out along with packets of nutritional supplements created specifically for each animal. Every morning, Leda put the meat in its special container to thaw and every afternoon she added the supplement and took the food out to the animals. She had enough supplies for about three weeks, which were replenished by Douglas from the Institute when she started to run low.
Leda usually threw the meat over the fence—the animals liked to run it down and then devour it, but Hunter walked into Mukasa’s enclosure, took the meat from the bucket in his gloved hand and held it out to him.
Leda watched in alarm, ready to shout at him to drop the food and run. Mukasa eyed the meat, then Hunter, then stepped a little away from Hunter in deference, a submissive gesture in a big cat.
Hunter laid down the meat. “No thanks, my friend. It’s all yours.”
Without hesitation, Mukasa raked the chunk of beef toward himself with a huge paw and started to rip it apart. Hunter came out of the enclosure and headed for the shed to get rid of the buckets and gloves and wash his hands.
Leda followed him. “You know the best way to get attacked is to come between a lion and his food,” she said shakily.
Hunter didn’t look up from rinsing his hands in the outdoor sink. “If he’d wanted to attack me, I’d know.” He snapped off the water and reached for a towel. “He didn’t want to.”
“Does he think you’re the pride leader?” Leda asked. “He offered you first dibs.”
Hunter grinned for the first time since they’d descended the cliffs. “He knows I’m not a lion, and that you aren’t either. He was being polite. You have to understand how to read animals, and how to let them read you.”
“And you say you’re not a telepath.”
“I can’t read his mind, no, and I can’t talk to him. But I understand Mukasa, and he understands me. I’ve always been able understand animals, for over two thousand years now. Don’t ask me how.”
With that enlightening statement, Hunter returned to the house, Leda following him, unsure whether to be baffled by him, outraged, or fascinated.
Samantha had started dinner for them all, chopping greens for a salad. When Leda began to make sandwiches to go with it, Hunter revealed another of his quirks.
“You’re a vegetarian?” Leda stared at him when he forbade her to put meat on his sandwich.
“I can’t eat an animal,” Hunter said, leaning against the counter and looking as delectable as ever in tight T-shirt and low-slung jeans. “What if I’ve met him?”
“You can’t have met every chicken in the world,” Leda said.
“No, but I might have met her grandmother or cousin or aunt. Animals aren’t mindless beasts to me, good only for food or labor.”
“You just fed Mukasa a cow,” Leda pointed out. “Or part of a cow.”
“Mukasa has to eat meat to survive. I don’t. It would be the same for me as asking you to chow down on Taro. Under certain circumstances, you might have to do it for survival, but . . .” He trailed off with a shrug.
Leda looked at the ham sandwich Samantha had put together for her. “Thanks a lot, Hunter.”
“Hey, don’t mention it.”
After their dinner of salad and plain bread, Hunter took his sword and went to the beach. Samantha volunteered to do the dishes, as though she wanted to keep busy and far away from Hunter. Leda helped until Samantha shooed her away, then Leda left the house and walked slowly down to the beach.
Hunter was going through a series of slow-motion exercises with his sword—sweeping it over his head, lunging, catching himself on one foot, stepping back, all the while moving the sword in smooth arcs around his body. The sun dying into the sea burned gold highlights in his hair and gleamed on his muscles as he moved with lithe grace on the sand. He was a beautiful man, as wild and unpredictable as the animals Leda cared for, and more powerful than anyone she’d ever met.
Hunter had said she already knew all there was to know about him, but that wasn’t true. He might have told her about being an Immortal, about his brothers and their matching tattoos, that he’d lost his wife and children long ago, but she knew nothing at all about the real being called Hunter. Whatever lurked behind his emerald-green eyes was closed to her, not letting her in.
Hunter finished the routine and sheathed the sword with a flourish. He faced the sunset, put his hands together, and bowed. Leda knew she should admire his athleticism, his prowess with the sword, but what she was thinking when she went to him was that this enigmatic man had a great ass.
When Leda reached him, Hunter gave her his crooked smile and leaned to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Hey, sweetheart, have you worked out the sleeping arrangements?” A hint of his wicked twinkle returned. “You and me in the bed, of course. The demon can sleep on your couch—better have her close so we can keep an eye on her.”
Leda folded her arms. “I’m not Mukasa, Hunter.”
“Hmm?” He touched her hair. “I know you aren’t. Different mane, fewer whiskers.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny. I meant you like to take over. But I won’t step aside and let you have control of my island. I make the rules here, and I decide when I come and go.”
Hunter lost his teasing look, the frowning warrior returning. “Not when bad shit is going on in the outside world.”
“And who decides when the world is safe? You?”
“Yes, me.” The frown deepened. “It’s what I’m made for.”
“Well, if bad shit is going on, then the world needs me too. I’m a strong witch. I can’t stay sheltered in a cocoon if someone’s trying to drain life magic. I should be out there helping battle it, like you.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t your fight.”
“What about when the drain of life magic starts to affect me and the island? I should just hide out here and not worry about it?”
Hunter’s face clouded. “Leda, you have never fought evil, not real evil. I have. It can crush you as though you were nothing.” He pressed his fingers together.
“I’ve fenced with a groth demon, remember? I don’t want to sit around and wait for crap to happen. I’d rather go out fighting.”
Hunter growled. “And I’d rather not watch you go out at all. I’ll head to the mainland, meet with my brothers, find out what’s going on, and take care of it.” He broke off, touching her cheek. “Then I’ll come back, and we can keep on getting to know each other.”
His smile returned, and she remembered his heavy kisses on her lips when he lay in her bed. She had a feeling he wanted her to remember that, so she folded her arms, shutting out the tempting vision. “How will you find your brothers?” she asked. “You said you had no idea where they were.”
Hunter shrugged, his muscles moving. “I’ll look around. Immortals are easy to spot.”
“Samantha told us that the Coven of Light is looking for them,” Leda said. “And I know how to contact the Coven.”
Hunter held out his broad hand. “Give me their phone number, and I’ll know how to contact them too.”
�
�I want to go with you, Hunter.”
He returned her stubborn look. “And I want you to stay here, Leda.”
She waved her hands. “And do what, needlepoint? Watch the horizon to see if you ever come back, never knowing if you survived?”
“I’m Immortal. I can’t die.”
“But you could be trapped somewhere. Demons are tricky—they could seal you someplace and keep you there forever. And I wouldn’t know where to start looking for you.”
Hunter’s expression turned puzzled. “Why would you want to look for me?”
“Why wouldn’t I? If you were stuck somewhere, trapped, hurt—of course I’d come find you.”
His eyes were still. “But I am nothing to you.”
“Oh, you think so, do you?” Leda looked him over, from his mussed, sun-streaked hair to his broad chest and tight hips, his tattoo peeking over his waistband. He was a powerful giant, and yet she’d seen how gentle he could be. “You helped me—you freed me from death magic. You made me believe I can live a normal life again. If nothing else, I’m grateful to you. Why do you find that so perplexing?”
“Because I wasn’t made to be close to anyone,” Hunter said. “I learned that lesson a long time ago. I was made to fight death magic creatures. That is all.”
“And that means I can’t care about what happens to you?”
“That means you shouldn’t. You will live your life and die, and I will disappear. When I lost my wife, I grieved hard, but I would have lost her and my children eventually anyway.” His stern look died, replaced by vast sadness. “I lose everyone I care for.”
Leda put her fingers to his lips. “Stop.”
“It is the way of things. If I can come back, we’ll have an intense time together, for a little while. If I can’t come back, you won’t have lost anything.”
Leda wrenched her hand away. “By intense, you mean sex. Is that all it will be to you?”
“That’s all it ever can be.”
Leda took a step back into the soft sand. “Dear Goddess, you’re an arrogant shit. You’ll go and fight because you want to, while I stay here because you want me to, so you can come back and have sex with me when you decide to. Well, forget it. You can’t always have it your way.”
The Gathering Page 7
