"She's beautiful!" Kerry scampered across the empty street, straight for his prized possession. Setting her suitcase on the curb, she circled the car, trailing her fingers along the elegant long fenders and smiling at the hood ornament.
She grinned up at him. "They sure knew how to make cars back then. Is this how she originally looked?"
His chest swelled with pride. "Yep. Everything is original except for the tires, the stereo, and necessary maintenance and repairs."
Kerry's dark eyes looked at him in disbelief. "She's not been restored?"
"No need. I've taken good care of her since the day she rolled off the lot in 1940."
That comment slowed Kerry down. "Now I know you're yanking my chain. If you were old enough to drive in 1940, you'd have to be in your eighties."
"I told you earlier that I'd been around for centuries. I can't help it if you didn't believe me."
She put her hands on her hips, her whole attitude pure, stubborn disbelief. "All right, big guy. Just how old are you?"
He gave her the truth. "I don't know exactly, but a thousand years, give or take half a century."
He half expected her to either laugh or run to the nearest neighbor for sanctuary. Instead, she looked back at the Packard and then back at him with a smile teasing at the corners of her mouth.
"Then I guess it's good that I've always had a thing for older men."
That did it. He laughed, loud and long, as he set her suitcase and computer in the trunk before opening the passenger door with a flourish. She slid into the leather seat and sighed with pleasure.
When he joined her inside, she looked up at him with a hopeful expression. "We don't have to go straight to your friend's house, do we? Can we go for a ride first?"
For the first time in what seemed like hours, her eyes were alight with happiness. He would have given her anything within his power to hold the ugly reality of Bradan at bay. "We can take the long way."
"With the top down?"
"Sure. It'll be chilly, but I'm up for it if you are." He reached around for a blanket and tossed it to her.
By the time they hit the highway, Kerry had the stereo cranked up and was singing at the top of her lungs. Ranulf headed for the mountains to the east, determined to keep Kerry to himself for as long as possible. As long as they kept moving, she was safe, and that was all that mattered.
Sandor looked up from his laptop. "Judging by these two entries, Bradan's staying close by. Or maybe that's just what he wants us to think."
"Well done, Sandor. This is the first real lead we've had on him." Dame Judith moved closer to read over his shoulder. "How old are those withdrawals?"
Sandor pointed at a column on the screen. "Three days ago for the first one. The second was from yesterday." He turned to face her. "Just as we guessed, he's paying cash rather than risking us tracking him down by his charge cards."
"No one ever accused Bradan of being stupid."
Sandor's expression turned harsh, reminding her that the two men had been close friends. This had to be tearing him up inside. She gently touched his shoulder, sending him a small burst of energy meant to soothe, but he shrugged off her hand. Well, she couldn't force him to accept comfort.
"Speaking of walking on the dark side, has Ranulf reported in?"
She drew a sharp breath at the barbed question.
"No, he hasn't, and you will refrain from such remarks in the future."
Sandor's dark eyes narrowed, his frustration plain to see. But after a few seconds, he nodded. "I apologize, Judith. I know I'm being a bastard, but this whole situation has me worried. Nothing is as it should be."
"How so?" Although she could guess, she'd listen if it would help Sandor to talk it out. She returned to her chair and settled in, making it clear that she was in no hurry.
Sandor moved away to stand by the window and stare out into the night.
"I feel disconnected from everything. My honor demands that we track down and destroy a man I thought I knew as well as I know myself, but it will be like killing a brother. Only a few days ago, I would have fought anyone who had questioned Bradan's honor. He was a Talion and one of the best."
He was silent for a few seconds. "And then there's Kerry Logan. I failed miserably when it came to explaining to her what it means to be Kyth. I've dealt with tough resistance in the past, but she beats them all, hands down."
He looked back at Judith with a half smile. "She's much stronger than you'd think at first glance. There's no moving her once she digs in her heels."
"What? A pretty woman didn't fall for Sandor Kearn's legendary charm?" Judith held the back of her hand to her forehead, pretending to swoon. "Has the world come to an end?"
He accepted her teasing with good humor. "Very funny, Judith. But if Kerry refuses to believe the truth, it will be that much harder to keep her safe."
"How does she react to Ranulf?"
Sandor's smile faded. "I tried to warn her about his true nature, but she wouldn't listen."
"Sandor…"
Sandor staved off her defense of Ranulf. "I know what you think of him, Judith. I know what he's done for our people, and I honor that. But there's a reason he hides up there on the mountain: he's not stable, and he knows it—even if you won't admit it. So far, we've been lucky that he's been able to absorb all that dark energy from his targets without going renegade himself. But one of these days he's going to cross that line—and when that happens, who will die because we failed to stop him in time? Me? Kerry Logan? You?" He walked out of the room.
Each word felt like a physical blow to Judith. Yes, she had faith in Ranulf, but she'd also trusted Bradan. Had her judgment become that faulty? If so, she was a danger to their people, too. Would one more execution be more than Ranulf could handle? Could he still walk away intact?
Gods above, she grew so weary of the burden of ruling their people. If Kerry Logan was as strong as Sandor said she was, she might be the first real hope for the Kyth in a very long time. The ability to rule rested not in the royal blood that ran in Judith's veins but in the genetically rare ability to manipulate energy to heal and control other Kyths.
If the reports of the dance club fire were true, Kerry Logan probably had that ability, even if she wielded it subconsciously and with no training. A simple touch, a brief invasion of Kerry's thoughts, and Judith could confirm what she very strongly suspected.
How many times over the centuries had she seen a hero appear at the very moment he was most needed? Perhaps it was the gods' way of protecting the lesser beings they cared for. If they had chosen this moment to send Kerry to the Kyth, Judith would gladly teach the younger woman the history of their people, share her wisdom and advice, and pray that when it came time to step aside, Kerry would be ready.
She reached for the telephone. It was time to meet Kerry face-to-face.
"Shut up, bitch, and quit whining. I know the ropes hurt, but they're supposed to, aren't they?"
The woman stirred again, her eyes glazed and confused as she tried to figure out how she'd come to be naked and tied to Bradan's bed. She tried to speak, but the words were muffled by the duct tape over her mouth.
Bradan set out his scalpels in a neat row alongside a box of surgical gloves. After pouring himself a glass of wine, he studied his test subject. She wasn't Kyth, of course, but with her athletic build, he'd had high hopes for her ability to withstand his games. But she should have shaken off the drug he'd slipped into her dinner by now. So far, this woman he'd dragged into his lair was a disappointment.
He'd planned on inviting Kerry Logan to this particular party, but she'd chosen to defile herself with that damned Viking. The fire he'd set outside her apartment might have been a mistake, though. Up until that point, the Talion warrior had only suspected that Kerry would be the next target. Now he knew it for certain and had driven Bradan's mate off into the night.
But it was only a matter of time before she returned to her apartment, or perhaps to Dame Judith's oste
ntatious home—one reason Bradan hadn't yet made a move against the Dame herself. He studied the pieces of paper taped to the wall, each with a name at the top: Kerry Logan, Ranulf Thorsen, Dame Judith, Sandor Kearn.
With a smile, he lifted his glass in a toast to the neatly printed lists. "To each in their own time."
The woman tied to his bed struggled to break free of her bonds. Did she really think he wouldn't notice? But he did admire the sleek lines of her muscles and the delicious scent of pain mixed with sweat and blood. His body stirred in response.
He sat down on the side of the bed and studied her perfect breasts and the sweet curve of her waist as it flared out to her hips. Ah, yes, she knew what was coming. She flinched when he laid his hand on her ankle and slowly, so slowly, stroked the length of her leg, just to flirt with the blond curls at the top. He let his fingers hover there briefly before starting a slow downward journey back to her ankle. Oh, yes, this was going to be fun.
Panic had her straining against all four bedposts at once, but all she was doing was wearing herself out and stoking his fire. At least her fear had burned away the last haze of the drugs. Perfect. He pointed the remote at the stereo across the room, and soft music filled the air.
Then he reached for the first button on his shirt and smiled. "Shall we begin, my dear?"
Ranulf's cell phone vibrated for the third time in thirty minutes. As much as he wanted to ignore it, he knew he couldn't. Whether it was Sandor or Judith, he needed to report in.
He flipped the phone open and saw Sandor's number. Keeping his voice low, he said, "I'm on my way in," before hitting the disconnect button to avoid any questions. After accelerating around a slower ear, he looked at Kerry, who was curled up asleep under the blanket.
He could taste her scent on the night air, teasing his senses with memories of how sweet it had been to hold her in his arms, skin to skin, hearts racing as their bodies had strained to be one.
He hated to be grateful to Bradan for anything, but the firebug had kept Ranulf from making one of the worst mistakes in his life. He'd learned to live alone, safe within the wards he set to guard his home and content with his own company. Even now, he was fighting a powerful compulsion to turn around at the next exit and drive straight back up the Cascade Mountains where he belonged.
Once he had Kerry there, he could coax her into his bed and spend the next few days burning up this craving he had for her. Or weeks, if that's what it took. He jerked his eye back to the highway again. Over the centuries, he'd watched too many people he'd cared about age and die, and he didn't want to leave himself open to that kind of pain again.
The average Kyth lived only slightly longer than their human neighbors. Only those with the strength to manipulate energy, like the Talions and the Dame, were gifted—or burdened—with longevity. The dark energy he'd consumed over the centuries had kept his exterior youthful, but it did nothing to alleviate the weight of all those years. It was his hope that once he retired from serving his people, he would begin to age, living out his life as normally as possible.
Now even Judith was fading away, because she'd started dying the minute Rolf's heart had stopped beating. Once she was gone no one else would have a claim on his soul, and he'd be free of the burden of his office as Talion. Kerry stirred slightly, drawing his attention back to her. No one, he repeated more firmly to himself; even he recognized the lie. This waif of a woman had already burrowed under the wall he'd built around his heart and taken up residence there.
As if feeling his attention, she stretched and yawned before sitting up with a sleepy smile. "Have I been asleep for long?"
"A couple of hours," he answered a bit gruffly.
She adjusted the blanket and looked out the window. "Where are we?"
"Coming down off Snoqualmie Pass. We'll be back in town soon. Are you hungry? We never had a chance to eat that dinner."
"I'd love breakfast, but anything will do."
"There should be something in the next town."
He let the silence settle between them, but he figured it wouldn't last long. He was right.
Kerry finger-combed her hair, only to have the wind muss it up again. "So who's the friend you're taking me to? Sandor?"
"He'll be there."
"But he's not your biggest fan, and you said we'd stay with a friend. The only other name you two have mentioned is Judith."
Ranulf considered how to describe the Dame. "Did Sandor mention that the Kyth are a matriarchal society?"
"No, but I didn't give him much of a chance to explain anything." Kerry's smile made her look like a cat who'd swallowed a canary. "As I said before, I didn't particularly like what he had to say."
"And why was that?"
She shot him a narrow-eyed look. "Stop avoiding the subject and tell me what's going on. Start at the beginning and pretend Sandor and I have never met."
Kerry settled back in the seat and pulled the blanket higher as she waited for Ranulf to gather his thoughts. What was he thinking that had his mouth set in such a grim line? She slipped a hand free and gently laid it on his arm. A zing of warmth immediately shot up her arm; Ranulf's eyes gave her hand a quick look before turning back to the road again. He'd definitely felt it, too.
"Why don't you go first? I know you're a graphics designer, but you haven't mentioned any family or friends."
She frowned and looked away. "I have this sneaking suspicion that our good buddy Sandor has already ferreted out every bit of information that he could on me. Are you telling me that he didn't share?"
"He shared, but that's all facts and figures, not the truth of who you are. I want to hear that from you."
For some reason, that pleased her enough to make her want to answer. "I don't know much about my family background. My birth parents gave me up for adoption, and the records were lost in a fire. My adoptive parents did their best by me, but raising me was no picnic. Sandor was right about me not fitting in at school, even though I got high enough grades to get into a good art school."
She stared out at the Douglass firs that lined the highway. "Losing myself in my art brought me some peace. I've always been happier in one extreme or the other—either working by myself or lost in a crowd. Not much in between. I occasionally hang out with some friends, but mostly I work out of my apartment. I buy a pair of season tickets for several of the local sports teams, but always go by myself." She dragged her gaze back around to the silent man next to her. "Pretty pathetic, don't you think?"
Blue flames flared briefly in his eyes. "No, I think you're a Kyth who had no one to teach you how to cope. From everything I've seen, you've done a damn fine job on your own. Besides, at least you have coworkers and neighbors. I live by myself up on a mountainside. If Judith doesn't need me, I go months, even years, without talking to another person."
Her heart hurt for the loneliness she heard in his voice, but she knew he wouldn't appreciate any show of sympathy. "So we're kindred spirits. Now it's your turn. Start talking."
He let out a long breath. "Once upon a time, there was a small community of people living in the far north end of Scandinavia. Somewhere along the line, they developed a genetically based talent that none of their neighbors had: the ability to share energy with those around them." He looked at her again. "Let me know when I get to the part you haven't heard before."
"Keep going, big guy. I'm listening." She scooted closer and rested her head against his arm, not sure if the comfort of touch was for him or for her. Most likely both.
"Fine. These people not only survived, they thrived in areas that other, more normal, humans couldn't. On a good day, one successful hunter with the right genes could absorb enough energy to 'feed' his tribe, but that ability was far rarer than the ability to steal energy from other humans. That little talent worked like a charm, as long as there were enough humans around to feed off of."
Though Ranulf's story was even more outlandish than Sandor's, she found it much easier to believe. Or maybe it was because i
t was Ranulf doing the explaining.
"Then the Kyth began to outnumber the normal homo sapiens, to the point that both groups were suffering. Since the Kyth were stronger, they took to the seas in search of new homes." He smiled. "Ever wonder why the Vikings and their kin traveled so far afield? Well, now you know. It takes a certain number of humans to support each Kyth's energy needs."
"And they figured that out way back then?"
"Not in so many words, we didn't. All I knew was that I felt better when I went out on raids with my chieftain than I did hanging around my village."
"When you said earlier that you'd had centuries to perfect the ability to take care of renegades, you were serious, weren't you?"
He jerked his head in a quick nod. "We returned from one of our raids to find that our village had been destroyed. After caring for the few survivors, we went after the attackers. That went badly, and I was captured. Before they had a chance to do permanent damage, Judith showed up with only Rolf, her Consort, at her side."
Ranulf's mouth quirked up in a smile. "I can still see her standing before all of us big hulking brutes. Judith is on the small side, like you, but no one could mistake her for anything but royalty."
"So she's a queen?"
"She's actually called a Grand Dame, but the meaning is the same. There wasn't one of us who dared defy her, especially when Rolf was backing her up with both his energy and his sword. She's ruled all of our kind for longer than I've been alive."
"And now I'm going to meet her?" She sat up to whack Ranulf on the arm. "You're taking me to meet royalty, and I'm wearing my oldest sweats!" Did the man not have a lick of sense?
"So? Judith won't care."
"When's the last time you saw her in sweats? Or even jeans, for that matter?"
His only answer was another of those laughs that made her smile. But that didn't mean she was going to forgive him soon for not warning her about where they were headed.
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