Spirit
He needed answers.
We need to talk about last night.
That statement could be about so many things.
Some were pleasant.
Some were not.
And there was only one way to find out which ones she wanted to talk about.
CHAPTER 17
Kate was waiting for him.
Hunter didn’t spot her at first: she wore tight gray jeans and a slim-fitting olive-green tank that blended with the tree line at the edge of the carnival grounds. The sky still hung heavy with clouds, but the rain had stopped, leaving the field nothing but a soggy, charred mess. None of the carnival equipment had been removed. All the bodies sure had.
Almost everything was roped off with yellow crime scene tape.
Thank god his jeep had four-wheel drive—even so, he parked before it got too bad. He had to step through muddy tire ruts to get to her.
The place was deserted, but it felt haunted, as if the carnage from last night had left an impact in the very air.
Casper loped along beside him, happy for the adventure.
She wasn’t armed, unless she had something at the small of her back, but it took everything he had not to let his eyes linger on her form. Her eyes were fierce, her shoulders thrown back, her mouth sexy as hell.
He glanced around. “What’s with the cryptic meeting place?”
She ignored him. “What are you doing with the Merricks?”
Wow. As if that wasn’t a loaded question.
But he could play this game, too. “You know what happened with my grandfather. They’re letting me crash there for a while.” He paused. “Why?”
“Don’t play stupid.”
He gave her half a smile. “I’m playing cautious.”
“Why?”
“Probably the same reason you are.” More sure now, he took a step forward.
She didn’t move, but he sensed the sudden tension in her body, could feel the way her eyes tracked his movement.
He was out of practice. He should have noticed this when they’d played at fighting last night.
Only now he sensed she wasn’t playing at all.
“You look tense,” he said easily. “I thought you wanted to talk.”
“If you’re playing cautious, then you’ll want to stop walking.”
Well, that statement was full of threat, and definitely dictated how this conversation was going to go.
He hesitated for a second, weighing his options. The post-storm humidity spoke of danger, but he needed to take control of this interaction before she did. He kept moving, knowing that however she’d react, she was going to be fast. She wouldn’t waste energy on a strength move, not against him.
She moved half a second before he expected it—and not in the way he expected at all.
She didn’t fight, she ran.
He took off after her.
She was fast, launching herself through the underbrush in the woods, heading toward the creek, barely making a sound as her feet sprang through dead leaves. She ducked and bolted through narrow passages, until even Casper had a hard time staying on her trail.
And then she vanished.
Hunter drew up short, his lungs pulling for breath. His shoulder ached again, protesting all this motion.
About a hundred feet off, something skittered through a bush.
Casper took off after it. Hunter stared. How had she gotten so far away, so—
Wham. Kate landed on him from above. It was a lot of weight all at once, and he hit the ground. Kate was on his back.
With a knife at his throat.
She had a fistful of his hair, and the blade was tight under his chin, so sharp that he could swear he was bleeding already.
“Boys are such idiots,” she said.
But he wasn’t listening. His hand was already hooking her wrist from the inside, using his strength to jerk her forward.
And while she was off balance, he rolled her into the dirty leaves. He straddled her waist and pinned her arms—one with his knee, one with a hand—and put the knife against her throat.
“Now who’s the idiot?”
Her eyes lit with indignant fury.
“Don’t glare at me,” he said. “You’re the one who left my hands free.” He could still feel wetness at his neck. “That was a good trick, though. You have any more weapons hidden out here?”
Kate didn’t speak, and he eased the knife away from her neck, just an inch. “I didn’t come out here expecting a fight,” he said.
“What were you expecting? Another chance to feel me up?”
That hurt more than it should have, but she didn’t have to know that. “Why? Is that offer on the table?”
“Just kill me or let me go.”
“I don’t like either of those options. You’re another Fifth, aren’t you?”
“Oh, good. You’ve figured that out.”
“You’re working with the guy from last night?”
She kept glaring up at him, and that was answer enough. Hunter glanced around, but the trees were still. Casper was probably off chasing a rabbit or whatever. “Is he going to try to shoot me again?”
“Why did you flip sides?” she demanded.
He looked back down at her. “Who says I flipped sides?”
“You’re living with the Merricks.”
“Yeah, and they hate me.”“You should hate them.”
For an instant, Hunter wanted to lift the knife and use it on himself. Her question narrowed his entire internal debate down to one fine point.
“They stopped those fires last night,” he said quietly. “They saved my life after your boyfriend shot me.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Her face lost some of the righteous fury. “And I know they did.”
“Sounds like you care.”
“About all those people? Of course I care.”
That wasn’t what he’d meant, but he didn’t correct her. It shouldn’t have made a difference, but it loosened something inside him, to hear that she couldn’t disengage her conscience, either. “So what do you want, Kate? What?”
“I want your help.”
“You thought you’d get it with a knife at my neck?”
“When you showed up, you were so . . . so cagey. I knew you’d figured it out. What I am.” Her voice dropped. “I thought you really were on their side. I thought you’d kill me before I could explain myself.”
“Guess I’m not all that predictable.”
She wriggled her wrist under his hand. “Do you mind?”
He raised one eyebrow. “Just talk?”
She nodded. “Just talk.”
So they sat against opposing trees, but he kept her knife, spinning it between his hands. “Maybe you should tell me the whole story. Transferred from Saint Mary’s? I should have figured out that was a load of crap on the Ferris wheel.”
She didn’t blush, but her jaw was set. “I thought you’d be suspicious of someone from out of town.”
“Did you know what I was, that first day?”
“I knew John Garrity had died after taking an assignment to eliminate the Merricks. The name was too close to be a coincidence.”
He laughed, but not like anything was funny. “Is your mother even dead? Or was that just something to say to get close to me?”
Now she froze. “She’s dead. She died on an assignment to kill a Water Elemental.”
He told himself not to care. He’d fallen for this more than once already.
His father had once told him he needed to learn to cage his compassion, that others would use it against him, that it would cloud his judgment and hide what needed to be done.
But he couldn’t help it. He heard the pain in her voice. No, he recognized it.
“What happened?” he said quietly.
“She was stupid. She faced him on the water.”
Her eyes were hard when she said it. The derision in her voice was almost potent. “So you’re here on a vendetta,” he said without judgment. He couldn’t really criticize—he’d come here for the same thing, once.
“No, I’m here because it’s my job. I thought you’d understand that.”
Hunter didn’t have anything to say to that.
Her expression turned fierce. “I still don’t understand why you’d be living with them. I’ve heard just how badass your father was.”
Hunter went still. “You don’t know anything about my father.”
“I can imagine what he’d think about you living with a pack of Elementals he’d been sent to kill.”
Hunter’s hand tightened on the knife—but she was right. He had to look away.
“Did the Merricks kill him?” she asked. “Did they somehow convince you to—”
“No,” he snapped, feeling his throat tighten. “No. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So tell me.”
It took him a minute to make sure his voice would remain steady. “When we came after them, the car was crushed in a rock slide. My father and uncle were killed.”
He felt her eyes, and he met them, holding her there, daring her to say . . . anything. He wasn’t sure what would push him over the edge.
Her voice dropped. “Michael Merrick is an Earth Elemental.”
Hunter glared at her, hard. “I know. That was my first thought, too. I came here to finish the job.”
“And you couldn’t follow through.”
It was so close to the truth that he flinched. He put a thumb against the edge of the blade, just a bit, letting the pain steady him. “They aren’t the only Elementals in town,” he said. “Their parents made a deal with the others, that they wouldn’t turn them in to the Guides if the Merricks kept out of trouble and didn’t use their abilities. Then the others spent years harassing the Merricks in an effort to make them reveal themselves.”
She snorted. “Some deal. They used their abilities last night.”
“The deal is over. When my dad couldn’t . . . when he couldn’t finish the job . . .” He had to swallow. “Another Guide came. He almost killed them. He caught Chris and Nick, but . . .”
Hunter stopped. She was going to misunderstand this, too.
“But what?”
He slid his thumb along the edge of her blade, harder now, feeling the sharpness, knowing it could draw blood with a little more pressure. “I helped them escape.”
“Did you help them kill him, too?”
“He’s not dead!” he snapped. “I still don’t understand why you want my help if you think I’m nothing but a traitor.”
She ignored that. “And Calla? You really did beat her up, didn’t you?”
“No. I wish I had, but no. She said that so I’d have to stay away from her.” He frowned. “Now that won’t be a problem.”
“Where does she fit in? Was she after the Merricks, too?”
“No. She wanted to bring the Guides here.” He pointed at her with the knife. “Mission accomplished, huh?”
“Why?”
He punched the ground with his fist. “I don’t know why! She kept threatening to keep starting fires if I couldn’t bring more Guides here. I never expected her to blow up the whole carnival.” His voice almost broke. “You think I wanted all those kids to die? I should have stopped her, Kate. I should have stopped her two weeks ago. I should have—”
He dropped her knife and pressed his fists into his eyes.
She could stab him right now and he wouldn’t move a muscle to stop her.
Her hands fell on his shoulders, light and gentle and completely unexpected.
He dropped his fists to look at her, and her face was close. She knelt in the leaves in front of him, her green eyes soft and close.
“You’re a mess,” she said.