Heart of the Hunter

by BJ James

  “You haven’t been listening, little sister. You’re my last option. The last person I could turn to.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  “But it is.” He stepped from the door, moving closer.

  “There’s nothing I can do.”

  “You’re wrong.” Moonlight spilling through tall windows was like a pale, wintry sun. In its light she saw that he was older than his years, and seedy. Desperation radiated from him like a rank odor. And something more, something off kilter.

  “You’ve just decided you need some time off.” He spun a tale for her. “You’re going to charter a boat with a crew to sail the Caribbean Islands. Makes sense, you like islands.”

  “Where would you be in the meantime? While plans are made?”

  “Right here, where else?”

  “What would I tell Jeb?”

  “From what I’ve seen, you and your new lover quarreled.”

  “You’ve been watching me!” The thought of those odd eyes peering at her from hidden places made her cringe.

  Beyond a feral grin, Tony ignored her outburst. “You tell him you don’t want to see him anymore, that you’re going away to heal your broken heart.”

  “If he won’t accept that?”

  A gun appeared in Tony’s hand. A monstrous weapon. A magnum, chrome and black and lethal as a cannon. “Then we’ll settle it with this.”

  Panic started deep in her chest and exploded. “You can’t!”

  “Wanna bet?” He looked at her with an unchanging gaze, pointed a finger at her head and pulled an imaginary trigger. At her smothered gasp, his mouth moved in a caricature of a laugh, the sound sending snakes slithering down her spine. “I won’t hurt you, Nicole, but you will help me. Shall I show you why?”

  Only a simpleton wouldn’t have known then what her brother’s crimes were, and why it was so crucial he escape. Horror sizzled through panic. Terror for Jeb turned it deadly calm. In the throes of cartwheeling sensation she managed to say almost conversationally, “I won’t help you, Tony. I want you to leave, disappear from my life as completely as you did before. Forget you ever had a sister. And I’ll try my damnedest to forget you.”

  Tony clucked his tongue, and chucked her under the chin. He grinned when she didn’t recoil. “You found some guts over the years, have you? Or is all this bravado for your lover’s sake?”

  She met his scorn levelly. “It isn’t bravado for anyone.”

  “You think he loves you? Wise up. He came here to betray you, and whatever he’s done, however sweet he’s been—” sarcasm curled his mouth into a nasty leer “—it was only to get to me. Then he’ll walk, as far and fast as he can. As he must have countless times before, from countless women as gullible.”

  Nicole didn’t respond. Jeb had already walked. To the Gambler and out to sea with his crew, she prayed.

  “Gonna be stubborn?” Tony laughed again. He laughed too much, an off note that wasn’t quite right. And when she let her gaze settle on him, his head jerked and he was first to look away. “I think it’s time to play my ace in the hole. See how stubborn you are then.”

  He stepped to the deck and disappeared into the darkest corner. A thud, the crack of an open-handed slap was followed by a low, mournful wail that brought new fear leaping into Nicole’s heart. She was on her feet, afraid to look, but afraid to look away when Tony shoved a cowering, sobbing giant into the room.

  “Ashley!” His name was all she had time to say as he sprawled at her feet. A murderous look thrown over her shoulder cut short an unnatural bark of laughter as she knelt by the rigid man.

  A handkerchief threaded through his lips, dragging his chin back at an awkward angle. His hands were bound, the flesh turning a ghastly color from too little circulation for too long. She touched his cheeks, wiping tears from them. She spoke softly, comfortingly, but Ashley didn’t see her or hear her. He didn’t feel the soiled gag loosen and slide away. Response was beyond him for he’d slipped into the self-induced trance that was his only protection from horrors he didn’t understand.

  Nicole stood; without a glance at Tony, with her back straight and her chin at a fighting angle she stalked to the kitchen.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  She turned, her eyes were as gray and cold as Jeb’s had been. “I don’t think, I know where I’m going. First I’m going to turn on a lamp, then I’m going to the kitchen for a knife to cut Ashley free.”

  Tony lifted the gun, the muzzle centered on her.

  “You want to shoot me? Then do it. But who will you turn to if you do? Jeb’s out there somewhere. So is Mitch Ryan, a Cajun who can laugh in one breath and cut your heart out the next. And with them is a master tracker, an Apache called Matthew Winter Sky. Once he has your scent, he’ll find you no matter where you go, or how far. When he does, if you’ve hurt Ashley, you’ll regret it more than you’ve regretted anything in your life.

  “Without me you don’t stand a chance, Tony. So make up your mind. Shoot or turn the gun away.” She knew she should be frightened out of her skull, but she was too furious to care. “While you’re making up your mind, I’m going to cut Ashley free before he loses his hands.”

  She saw a finger squeeze against the trigger.

  “There’s only me, Tony,” she said softly. “Or you wouldn’t be here. Only me, or you wouldn’t risk facing Jeb.” Her voice sank to a singsong rhythm, “Only me, only me.” She could feel the bullet in her chest, feel his need to put it there.

  This was her brother!

  She caught back a moan of despair and tried to rekindle a lost kinship. “There’s me, Tony. Only your sister.”

  “Shut up!” The gun wavered and steadied. No life shone from blank eyes, but there was sweat on his forehead. His shrug was stiff, unnatural. “Turn on the lamp, get the knife. Cut your pet fool free. But know this, and believe me, if he makes one suspicious move, he’s fish bait.”

  Nicole met him stare for stare, then, turning on her heel, she walked when she wanted to run. She’d gained an edge, a small one she must keep at all costs. One overt sign of the terror that lay twisted in her ready to spin out of control and she would lose everything. Ashley’s life, her own. Jeb’s.

  The knife was slippery in her hand as she knelt again by Ashley. He hadn’t moved, he didn’t blink in the bright light of the lamp. For once Nicole was grateful for the self-induced trance she’d once thought maddening. Sawing at the rope, trying not to cut skin that had already torn in his struggle against captivity, a part of her knew the horror Ashley felt. He hated to be caged or closed in. Being tied and gagged would be as bad.

  Ashley would have begged and cried, and struggled however long it took. The varying age of the bruises on his face and hands spoke of days. She wondered if the monster who held a gun at her back had laughed his monster’s laugh.

  More hate and revulsion than she knew she could feel burned through her. A conflagration that purged her fear, leaving only cold eyed, bitter rage.

  She dropped the knife, the bonds were cut. Ashley lay as he was. Only tears spilling on his cheeks told her that the excruciating pain of blood rushing through starved vessels penetrated his fog.

  “Lie still, Ashley,” she whispered. “Dear heaven, please lie still.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You said you didn’t want him to move. That’s what I’m telling him.” She brushed the shaggy, dirty hair from Ashley’s face. “It doesn’t matter how big his body is, or how old he is, he’s a child.”

  “Cuts no ice with me. Big, small, old, young, I’ve killed children before.”

  Nicole jerked around, staring up at him. Hate and rage rose a notch.

  He saw it. Laughed. And when she shivered at the sound, he laughed again. “It occurs to me it would simplify matters if we had another reunion. You know, old surfing buddies, Sons of Apollo.”

  “No!” She would have risen, flown at his face, his eyes, with her nails if Ashley hadn’t chosen that moment to move
, to try to rise. With a strength born of desperation she forced the huge man back, soothing him with a touch and a soft word as he subsided.

  “My, my, my, you do have the magic touch. Old Jeb must’ve purred. Let’s get him over here, I’d like to ask him what it was like. Call him.”

  She settled back on her heels, one hand touching Ashley. Eyes so similar collided, one pair dead, cold, the other just as cold, but alive and unyielding. “No!”

  “That’s your favorite word, isn’t it? Except with Mr. Golden Boy. You had a crush on him way back, it’s a little more now, huh?” He prodded her with the gun. She looked away rigidly. He turned her back with the barrel at her cheek. “Call him.”

  “Don’t be a fool, you don’t need Jeb here. I’m all you need.” The same old verse, but this time he didn’t listen.

  With the metallic sight he traced a cruel line along the path of the scratch, opening the newly healed flesh. Blood trickled on her robe. “Call him.”

  She jerked away from the cold, oily feel of the gun. Her look lashed out with all that seethed inside her. “No.”

  A blow spun her around. If it had been with the gun, her face would have split open, his open hand only bruised. “Call.”

  “There’s no need to call. I’m here.” Jeb stepped through the door left open when Tony dragged Ashley from the deck. His hands were empty, raised. “If you touch her again, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

  A promise, not a threat, made in a flat voice. A matter of fact, as inevitable as the rising sun. Only a fool wouldn’t have believed.

  Blood dripped from Nicole’s cheek, falling over Ashley’s grubby shirt. In the shaded light of the lamp it glittered like black oil. Every drop hurting Jeb.

  Stay down, Nicky.

  He didn’t look at her as he eased his arms down. He couldn’t take the risk. “You wanted me here, Tony, now I am. So?”

  The laugh. Something not quite human from a husk that had been a human being. The sound filled Jeb with loathing, and with dread. His last, slim hope to end this without disaster or tragedy fled. The tragedy was already here. It stood before him in the guise of a man who had been his friend.

  Tony sobered, the gun pointed steadily at Jeb. “Since this is my little sister, I wanted a look at the man who’d been—”

  “Don’t say it.” Jeb’s deadly command cut him off before the vulgarity spilled out.

  “Ahh, you want flowery phrases for it do you? To make it all nice and proper. Maybe you should ask Nicole’s fool here just how nice and proper both of you are.”

  Tony was goading him, wanting him to make a move. It made about as much sense as floating a cork in a hurricane. Jeb looked into the familiar face, reading what experience had taught him was there. The confidence, the arrogance. In Tony’s convoluted thoughts, he’d gotten to Nicole clean. No one had seen him. Jeb’s coming was coincidence, and he’d come alone. Just dropping by at the late hour, hoping to catch her in bed so he might join her.

  The lust a brother imagined, turned to blood lust. So he goaded Jeb to make a fatal move.

  Tony was offtrack, irrational, spoiling his chances of escape to feed an unholy craving. And that much more unpredictable.

  They weren’t likely to leave this room without bloodshed. Blood Tony craved. But Jeb had to try. “You want to leave the country? I’ll take you, if you leave Nicole and Ashley.”

  “Do I look like a fool? I might take you up on the boat ride, but if I do, my leverage goes with me.” Without taking his eyes from Jeb, he leaned down enough to grab a handful of Nicole’s hair. With a vicious twist he dragged her to her feet.

  The scream she bit off was for Jeb as he lunged forward, a small weapon, drawn from the back of his belt, in his hand. It wasn’t her aborted scream that stopped him, but Tony, for now the muzzle of his gun was pressed with bruising force to her throat.

  Jeb backed away, hands up and open, the pistol hooked over his thumb. “Put it away, Tony. You’re hurting her.”

  “No, you put it away.” With his head, Tony motioned Jeb to toss the gun. “You can’t shoot your lover’s brother, anyway. Wouldn’t make for family harmony. But then, there wouldn’t be a family. If you take me down, in that split-second hesitation you worry about her...” The muzzle stabbed deeper into her throat. “Bang!”

  Jeb hesitated, looking into Nicole’s eyes drawn to slits by the pressure of Tony’s grasp.

  Be still, Nicky. Don’t fight him.

  “Do it!” Tony screamed and dragged her back a step, jerking her harder when she tripped over Ashley.

  “You win.” Slowly, Jeb bent to lay the gun at his feet.

  “Never thought I wouldn’t. Now, kick it away.” The gun slid away. Tony laughed. “Get down on your knees.”

  Nicole knew what was coming. She knew what Tony meant to do. “No, please.”

  “Shh, Nicky. Everything’s all right,” Jeb assured as he dropped to the floor.

  The gun swung toward him, the hammer was back.

  Jeb saw Nicole tense.

  Be still, love. Please be still.

  “Say goodbye, sugar.” He jerked her hair brutally, twisting her neck at an impossible angle. Blood from the opened scratch flew in spattering dots over the floor and Jeb. And Ashley. The groan she couldn’t stifle ripped from her throat. Tony shook her again, and more blood fell.

  Jeb saw him move. Muscles bunched, fingers like saplings clutched the knife, and the big body rose from the floor noiselessly, a three-hundred-pound zephyr. There was nothing Jeb could do as Ashley plowed into Tony, but go with him. Launching himself from the floor, he hooked an arm around Nicole’s waist. In the deafening roar of gunshots he rolled with her across the floor as a dreadful drama played itself out in brutal vignettes.

  A bullet shattered glass.

  Jeb shielded Nicole with his body.

  Shots.

  A scream.

  Mitch shouted, he was answered by Matthew.

  Ashley fell heavily, brought down too late by Matthew’s low tackle.

  The blood of a man-child mingled with Jeb’s.

  A shot.

  Tony laughed, then he cried.

  Silence.

  Footsteps crushed broken glass into the floor. In the acrid smoke, a figure knelt by Tony Callison. He pushed a sun-face medallion aside to search for a pulse at his throat. After a minute his hand lifted to his knee, but he did not rise.

  “You thought Jeb couldn’t do this, child killer?” Mitch Ryan’s whisper barely rippled the silence. “I just beat him to it.”

  Ten

  Red light strafed the night, painting leaf and limb and face the color of blood. The tinny voice of a radio babbled from the open door of an ambulance as white-coated figures raced a stretcher down a walk.

  A life was slipping away.

  Kiawah’s gray-shirted security held back the scattering of onlookers as Nicole hurried to the street. At the ambulance door she paused, only a second, but long enough to see the solitary figure, the bloodred shadow that watched from the landing.

  “Ma’am.” A chivalrous hand took her arm. A face too young for the skills the mind and hand possessed looked solemnly down at her. “We’re ready.”

  Nicole turned away from the watchful figure, not sure what she felt, or what she believed. A haze of grief and shock clouded her thoughts as she climbed obediently into the back of the vehicle. Huddling on a jump seat she stared down at her hands as the young man leapt in beside her.

  She looked up as he cried, “Go!”

  The last face she saw, as the light changed and the ambulance door slammed, was Jeb’s.

  Sirens moaned. Growled. Built to a banshee howl.

  The race against time had begun.

  * * *

  An unearthly hush lay over the shore. The darkness was lifting, but Jeb didn’t notice. He’d stood for more than an hour at the edge of the sea, shoulders slumped, hands deep in his pockets, staring down at the water lapping at his feet. A freshening breeze warned of a s
torm. Spray flew in a fine mist, plastering his shirt to his chest. Stains ran pink, then red, but he didn’t care.

  He wondered if he would ever care again.

  “Jeb.” As Matthew would with a friend, he warned before he touched. A dark, coppery hand rested on a damp shoulder, gently but urgently. “It’s time to go.”

  “To the hospital.”

  “Dr. Gordon will be waiting.”

  “To treat a flesh wound.” Even a stabbing laceration didn’t hurt as badly as the look Nicole had given him when she realized how seriously Ashley was injured.

  “More than that, and better attended to now than later.”

  “How is Ashley?”

  “He’s in surgery. It looks bad, but he’s a strong kid.” Kid. He was a man of fifty years, at least, but Matthew saw only the heart and mind of a child.

  “Nicole?”

  “Bruised and battered. Grieving for the man her brother was, but not the man who died on Kiawah. Her throat will be sore for some time, her cheek will heal and the scar will fade. Eventually, along with scars of a different sort. Physically, other than that, she’s fine. Thanks to you.”

  “Sure,” Jeb snarled. “She’s lucky to have me in her life.”

  “I think so,” Matthew answered mildly.

  “Ask her. See if she agrees.”

  “Why don’t you ask her, Jeb? The answer might surprise you.”

  “I don’t think either of us believes that.” And brave, tough Jeb Tanner hadn’t the guts to risk her answer.

  Matthew didn’t argue. He saw it was a waste of breath. “Mitch will be finished with the coroner. He’ll meet us at the hospital.”

  “What arrangements will be made for Tony?”

  “What happens after the official investigation will be up to Nicole.”

  “Yeah, I suppose it will. Whatever he was when he died, once upon a time, he was her brother.” Jeb shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. “And my friend.”

  “No,” Matthew refuted quietly. “The part of him who was her brother and your friend died a long time ago.”

  “What remained became a killer.” Jeb faltered, his voice roughened. “He would have killed Nicole.”