Yeah, right, like that was going to happen anytime soon. Back when he’d regained consciousness to find himself strapped down to Doc’s stainless steel table after being sliced and diced, he’d known it was going to be a long, hard crawl back to normal. One step at a time. One day at a time. But this particular pain was going to be a bitch to deal with, because he wasn’t the only one hurting.
The banging downstairs was getting louder. Whoever was pounding on the door was going to make a handy target for Hunter’s temper. He yanked on his jeans and yesterday’s shirt and stomped down the stairs ready to start swinging. Halfway down, it occurred to him that it might be Mabel or one of her sisters looking for him. After all, he hadn’t gone home last night.
Time to calm down. No matter who was at the door, they weren’t responsible for Hunter’s foul mood. If it was one of the Auntie Ms, he’d reassure them that both he and Tate were fine. If it was a stranger, he’d offer tea and scones to keep them occupied until Tate came downstairs. But if it was one of his friends, well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
He turned on the overhead lights in the shop. One glance out the door made it clear that the impatient customer was a stranger to him. Hunter flipped the sign to Open and unlocked the door. A man, perhaps in his late fifties, turned his temper on Hunter.
“It’s about time. The sign clearly says the tea shop opens at nine. It’s almost ten.”
For Tate’s sake, Hunter bit back the urge to tell the jerk to fuck off, offering instead a cool, “Can I help you?”
“Where’s Jacob Justice? And who are you?” the man snapped as he pushed past Hunter into the shop. “I’ve been coming here to play chess with him for years, and I’ve never seen you before.”
“I’m new.” Hunter walked back to the counter, needing to put something solid between himself and the irritating customer. Obviously this guy hadn’t heard about the former owner’s death. It didn’t feel right that Hunter should be the one to break the news, especially if this guy was indeed an old friend of Tate’s late uncle. He could at least make some effort to make the older man feel welcome.
“Would you like some tea?”
Judging from the man’s reaction, Hunter suspected his smile hadn’t come across as particularly friendly. Too bad. At least he’d tried.
“I’ll have Earl Grey, and make sure you heat the teapot first.”
“Don’t worry. I know how to make tea.” The man’s autocratic demeanor was making it even harder for Hunter to remain civil.
“I should hope so, considering it’s your job.”
The man sat at the table in the far corner, out of sight of both the door and the windows. Something about the man’s behavior was off, although Hunter couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.
He’d planned on being gone before Tate came down, but he hated to leave her alone with this jerk. Maybe he’d check in with D.J., and then come back to keep an eye on the situation until the man moved on. To hurry it along, he carried the tea over to the man’s table.
“Will there be anything else?” He deliberately crowded close to the table, forcing the man to lean back to meet Hunter’s gaze.
Even so, the man took his own sweet time pulling his attention away from his newspaper. “Any business I have left with Mr. Justice is for his ears only. And don’t think I won’t mention the surly nature of his hired help.”
Tate was coming. Time to get moving.
———
The bell above the shop door jingled just as Tate’s foot hit the bottom step. She didn’t need a crystal ball to know that Hunter had just made his escape. Pasting a bright smile on her face took some effort, but she didn’t want to scare away innocent customers by greeting them with tears streaming down her face.
“Good morning. . . ,” she started to say before she recognized the solitary man tucked away in the darkest corner of the shop. “Oh, Mr. Kincade, how nice to see you again. It has been a long time.”
Well, that was a lie. Not about the time that had lapsed since she’d seen this particular man, but that it was nice to see him again. Unlike her, Uncle Jacob had been blessed with the patience of a saint. All she could remember was how hard her uncle had worked to please Mr. Kincade. The tea was always too hot, too cold, too weak, too strong. The bed in his room was too hard or too soft. Everything was always too something.
But Kincade had been one of the few who’d been her uncle’s equal at chess, so Jacob had tolerated his occasional stay. They’d spent hours huddled over the chessboard, each game hard-fought. She crossed her fingers that Kincade had stopped by for tea and nothing more.
“Ms. Justice, I see you’re back for another visit with your uncle. I hope you don’t mind if I steal away some of Jacob’s time to play chess.” His smile looked a bit forced as usual.
Oh, no, he hadn’t heard. She’d had to break the news to a number of old customers, and it never got any easier. As raw as her own emotions were right now, the last thing she wanted to do was think about the other important man in her life she’d lost.
“Mr. Kincade, I’m sorry to have to tell you that my uncle passed away a few months ago. He left me the house and tea shop, so I live here now.”
Kincade set his cup down hard, his eyes wide with shock. “I am so sorry, Ms. Justice… Tate. Jacob was a good man, and I know he meant the world to you.” The sincerity in his voice didn’t quite warm up his eyes. “The world has lost a great chess player. I will miss him.”
“We all do, Mr. Kincade. I know he always looked forward to playing you.”
“That’s sweet of you to say.” He looked around the tea shop as if really looking at it for the first time. “I can see that you’ve made a few changes.”
“Not many, except that I’ve made the tea shop my main focus.”
“Does that mean you’ve closed the bed-and-breakfast? I was hoping that my usual room would be available just for tonight. I know that I should’ve called ahead, but your uncle always accommodated my erratic schedule.”
The last thing she needed right now was an unexpected guest. On second thought, maybe it was. Anything to keep her hands busy and her mind occupied.
“I usually don’t rent out rooms anymore, but I guess I can make an exception for an old customer.”
“If you’re sure it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience, I would really appreciate it. My business associate is supposed to meet me here sometime late tomorrow, and I have no way of reaching him.”
That was weird. “You can’t call him?”
Kincade shook his head. “I’m afraid that would be difficult if not impossible. He’ll be traveling a long distance to get here and is out of cell phone range, at least until he crosses the border. I suppose I could take a cab back to town and return in the morning to meet him here.”
She forced a smile. “Since it’s just one night, I’ll be glad to have you stay. Let me refresh your tea. After I get things organized down here, I’ll prepare your room.”
“I appreciate this, Ms. Justice.” He went back to his newspaper.
She poured him another pot of tea before disappearing behind the counter. It had been a few days since she’d last worked on her novel, although she’d been mulling over the plot in odd moments. So far, the end of the story remained shrouded in shadow.
Her heroine was definitely in love with the outlaw but had serious doubts about his suitability as a potential husband. The sheriff would be a good man to spend her life with—reliable and unlikely to end up behind bars or dancing at the end of a rope. On the other hand, she knew the longer the gunslinger hung around, the more likely he was to meet a bad end.
Decisions, decisions, decisions.
But in her heart, Tate knew that she and the heroine had both made their choice. Hunter wasn’t an outlaw or a gunslinger, but he was a warrior fighting on a frontier that few people even knew existed. The gunslinger was just as much a product of his time as the sheriff, and the heroine knew in her gut that he would die to p
rotect her. The real question was if he was willing to do whatever it took to live for her. Why was that so much harder for the hero to do than dying? Tate’s heart ached for her fictional counterpart.
Hunter was the same. Despite how outlandish it sounded, she believed that he’d already given his life over and over again to keep humanity safe from the perils of another world. He’d definitely died down on the bluff to keep the evil from reaching Tate. Even now, he was with his friends making plans to continue their mission, regardless of the price they had to pay.
The cold, brutal truth was that Hunter was a Paladin warrior, and that would never change. It wasn’t in him to walk away from his duty. But did that mean he couldn’t have any joy in his life? Would it make his life better or worse to know that someone was waiting for him with open arms at the end of the day?
Could she convince him to take a chance on their love? Should she even try?
“Ms. Justice!”
She jerked her attention away from the blinking cursor on the screen. Judging by the aggravation on Kincade’s face, it wasn’t the first time he’d called her name.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kincade. Do you need more hot water?”
“No, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going for a walk.”
He started out the door, then turned back. “I hesitate to ask, but if my friend is delayed and gets in very late tomorrow, would you mind if we stayed a second night? I don’t expect that to happen, but I’ll need to make alternative plans if that will be too much of an inconvenience.”
Since it sounded unlikely that they’d actually be staying, she nodded. “I suppose so, as long as it is just the one extra night for the two of you. I’ll fix adjoining rooms for you.”
“Thank you. While I’m gone, I would appreciate your asking that employee of yours to carry my bag upstairs for me. You should really teach him some better manners. He wasn’t at all friendly.” Then he walked out, yanking the door closed behind him.
She managed to hold back her laughter until her crotchety guest was out of sight. What had Hunter done to offend the man?
For now, she’d better leave her heroine to her own devices and get the rooms ready. She’d forgotten that Mr. Kincade often had another man or two with him. And now that she thought about it, those extra guests were unusual in some way. There was something different about them, but what was it?
Oh, well, it would come to her eventually. She picked up the suitcase and headed back upstairs.
Chapter 17
“Damn it, man, get your head in the game!”
Penn deliberately blocked Hunter’s view of Tate’s house. Normally he would’ve shoved the jerk out of his way, but the man was right. They had to make plans and needed Hunter’s input. It wasn’t their fault that his mind was two blocks away in Tate’s bed.
“Sorry.”
He turned his back on the tea shop and focused instead on the three other men. “Where were we?”
D.J. rolled his eyes. “We know where we are, Hunter. The question is, where were you last night? When we came back up the trail, we almost ran right into Mabel and one of her sisters. They were talking about you taking a walk and debating whether or not to leave the light on for you.”
“Where I was is none of their business—or yours, for that matter.” He glared at each man in turn, making sure they understood that this particular discussion was over. “Okay, now that that’s settled, how did it go last night?”
D.J. acknowledged the change in subjects with a nod. “We posted signs both down on the beach and at the back of Tate’s property that the trail is closed for repairs, hoping that will keep the locals and any tourists from stumbling into the middle of our business. To make it look legit, we tore up part of the trail right above that sharp switchback.”
“Good thinking.”
“Thank Larem. It was his idea.”
Larem only shrugged. “While they were doing that, I checked out the cave a few times. No sign of any activity, but the barrier was fluctuating off and on all night.”
Now that was interesting. “Was it doing that on its own, or was someone trying to bring it down?”
“Impossible to tell for sure.” Penn sipped his coffee before continuing. “But when we checked in with Devlin this morning, he said there were no reports of problems anywhere else in the area. That makes us think someone was screwing with it from the other side.”
Hunter struggled to keep his mind on Paladin business. He had a bad feeling about all of this. “So tonight might be the night we finally catch the bastards.”
Which also meant these could be the last few hours that he could spend with Tate. Was he a selfish bastard for wanting to prolong their final good-bye? Probably.
“Are you all right?” Larem frowned and pointed at Hunter’s hand.
He was crushing the oversized cup of coffee Penn had brought him with a white-knuckled grip. It took some effort, but he forced himself to relax, at least on the surface.
“I’m fine. Look, why don’t the three of you go get some rest. I still have the key to the apartment. Tate won’t care if you use it for one afternoon.”
Penn peered at him over the brim of his cup of coffee. “Yeah, and what are you going to do while we’re snoozing?”
What Hunter wanted to do was drag Tate back upstairs for another bout of brain-rattling sex, but that wasn’t going to happen. When D.J. yawned so wide that his jaw cracked, Hunter laughed.
“God, go lay down before you fall down. I’ll head over to the bluff and keep an eye on things. If someone’s trying to break through to our side, there’s no telling when he’ll succeed.” He checked the slide of his sword. “I’ll be ready for him.”
“Sounds good.” Penn pulled a revolver from the back of his waistband. “Take this, too. Shoot off a few rounds if you need help, and we’ll come running. Otherwise, we’ll catch up with you right before dark.”
The two Paladins headed for the car to pick up their gear, but Larem hung back. When D.J. shot him a questioning look, Larem waved him off. “I’ll hang out with Hunter for a while.”
Hunter didn’t need a babysitter. “That’s not necessary.”
Larem dumped the dregs of his tea out on the ground. “After what happened the last time, I don’t think any of us should be alone down there. And before you ask, I’d feel the same way if it was Penn or D.J.”
Hunter believed him. “Okay, let’s go.”
Actually, he appreciated the offer of company because he was in no mood to be alone with his own thoughts right now.
They hadn’t gone more than a handful of steps when Larem broke the silence. “I don’t meant to pry, but are you really all right, Hunter?”
Okay, so maybe he would’ve been better off alone, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Larem to kiss off either. After all, the Kalith warrior had shed his own blood to jump-start Hunter’s return to the living. He owed the man.
“As all right as can be expected. I don’t understand exactly what you did, but all my newest crop of injuries healed up fine.” He slapped his bad leg. “Even this has improved a lot, so no complaints here.”
He hoped that was enough to satisfy the Kalith warrior, but he wasn’t surprised when Larem gave him a disgusted look. “Do I look like your Handler? I thought you’d foresworn spending any more time with Tate. Has that changed?”
“Do I act like I want to talk about this?”
Larem had the balls to laugh. “That doesn’t mean you don’t need to. Perhaps an outsider’s viewpoint would help prevent you from screwing up big time.”
Like he hadn’t already. He should’ve kept his pants zipped, and they both knew it. With a derisive snort, Hunter asked, “And what makes you an expert? I don’t see a parade of women chasing after you.”
For the first time Larem’s alien nature showed in his expression. It was as if he’d only been pretending to be human, and his real self briefly peeked out from behind the those pale eyes. That didn’t make his pain any
easier to witness.
“A man doesn’t need a parade, Hunter. One female is enough, as long as she’s the right one.”
Damn, Hunter hadn’t meant to rip open an old wound. “Sorry, Larem. I’m guessing you left someone important back home.”
“And you’d guess wrong. She came with me.”
Son of a bitch, could it get any worse? “Barak’s sister? The one who’s living with a Paladin?”
Larem nodded and kept walking. “I never got up my nerve to let her know how I really felt. Funny how you think you have all the time in the world, only to find out that it has slipped away.”
“That really sucks.”
“Indeed. I would ask you not to say anything. It would only hurt her and make things even more awkward for me.”
“You have my word, and I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Maybe she would’ve accepted my suit, but perhaps not. But either way, I’ll never know. However, it is not yet too late for you and Tate, Hunter. Think hard before you walk away from what she can offer you.”
“Believe me, I know how much she can offer me.” Even now the scent of her skin and the memory of her touch were driving him crazy with the need for more of the same.
They’d reached the edge of the woods. Somehow it was easier to spill his guts in the shadowy sanctuary of the towering firs. “The real problem is how little I can offer her. Hell, after we plug up this leak, I don’t know where I’ll be sent next. She’s already seen me die once. How can I ask her to go through that again?”
“That doesn’t seem to have affected her too much. Pardon my frankness, but I’m guessing that if she was totally freaked out by the experience, she wouldn’t have invited you back into her bed last night.”
Hunter’s face flushed hot. “Uh, we were saying good-bye.”
His new friend didn’t even try to hold back his laughter. “That sure beats a handshake, doesn’t it?”
Defeat the Darkness (Paladins of Darkness 6) Page 25
