Spirit

Especially when she looked up at him and blushed.

“Hey,” he said gently. He bent down to kiss her on the neck.

“Hey.” She leaned into him. He let her.

“What are you doing?”

“My phone was dead. I plugged into your charger. Is that okay?”

“Sure.” He could see she had the browser open. “Anything interesting?”

“I was looking for tunnels.” She glanced up. “Did you know there are two highway tunnels that lead into Baltimore?”

He took the phone and looked at the map. “Highway tunnels?”

“Well, they go under the harbor.”

Hunter thought about that but couldn’t make it line up in his head. “She’s a Fire Elemental. What’s she going to do, start a fire in the tunnel?”

“What if she had a Water Elemental working with her? Or an Earth?”

Hunter thought about it. “Collapsing a highway tunnel would definitely draw a lot of attention.” Then he shook his head. “They’re kids. They don’t have that kind of power yet.”

“But she’s looking for a reaction. They’re afraid. They’re—”

Casper growled.

Hunter whipped his head up. The dog was staring at the woods.

Kate was completely still, but he could practically hear her heartbeat. Or maybe that was his own. The house was dark and still; the trees quiet except for the slight breeze.

Casper was still on high alert.

Hunter took her hand. “Come on.”

She unplugged the phone and followed him. He brushed sand from his feet and yanked shoes on, not bothering to tie the laces. The gun slipped into his waistband. He pulled an olive-green shirt over his head as they walked toward the opposite tree line. Casper bolted into the woods, and Hunter didn’t dare raise his voice to call him back. His dog could take care of himself.

He didn’t have to tell Kate to be quiet. She was simply a shadow at his side, alert and prepared.

A branch snapped somewhere off in the woods, and her back pressed against a tree.

His did, too. They’d gone in opposite directions and now stood ten feet apart, staring at each other.

Another snap, a heavy one. Malice in the air. Someone was definitely in the woods.

Kate’s eyes were wide and locked on his. Their trees were too far apart to risk talking.

Then she had her cell phone in her hand, her fingers sliding across the screen.

What was she doing?

Then she looked up and tossed the slim black phone to him.

He read the words she’d typed.

You go northeast. I go southeast. Set 2 trails.

Like he’d split up now. He looked up and very clearly mouthed No!

She clearly mouthed back Yes!

Then she took off.

Damn her and all that independence! Hunter ran. Northeast, like she’d wanted.

Only now he did it with no caution at all. He ran full out, not bothering to hide his tracks or be stealthy. He needed noise, so he’d be the target.

So Kate could get away.

She was fast, like a sprinter, flying through the trees somewhere off to his right. Then he realized he could see her, that bright pink T-shirt flashing through the trees.

Shit.

Something cracked. That pink beacon crashed to the ground.

Hunter skidded to a stop. He said a prayer in his head, hoping she’d simply stumbled. At this distance, the pink was almost a blur, but he saw it lift from the ground. Keep running. Keep running. Keep running.

But he was already running toward her.

Only to skid to another stop and duck behind a tree.

Silver had an arm around Kate’s neck. She was struggling against him.

An arrow protruded from one thigh, and Silver had a crossbow pressed up tight against her neck.

“Come on, Hunter,” he called. “Come get your girlfriend.”

“He’s gone,” Kate yelled, and Hunter could hear her fury from here. “He ran the other way, you idiot.”

“I’d say the idiotic move was turning on your cell phone, Kathryn.”

Hunter peeked around the tree. He had a gun, but he didn’t have a clear shot at Silver from here. He needed to think. He needed to think.

“Run!” she yelled. “Hunter, run!”

Then Silver must have done something because Kate cried out, and the sound fractured into sobs. Hunter’s nails dug into the tree. He had to look. He had to look.

The pink shirt was turning red. Silver had shot her in the abdomen with the crossbow. She was crying.

Hunter made a small sound before he was aware of it.

“You can’t save me, Hunter,” she yelled, and her voice was weaker, breaking. “Run!”

“I can kill her slowly,” Silver called. “While you watch.”

Hunter couldn’t believe he’d ever thought for a moment that he could have turned out like this guy.

“Or I can stop,” said Silver. “We can work something out. We have similar goals, I think.”

“He’s lying!” said Kate. “Please—please run—he’ll kill all of them, Hunter—remember sacrifice—”

She screamed.

Silver had yanked the arrow out of her thigh.

Then he stabbed her through the side of her abdomen, driving the arrow up and into her body.

Kate didn’t scream, though she looked like she wanted to.

He’d pierced a lung.

Hunter was on his feet, the gun in his hand.

But an arm caught him around the neck and a hand slapped over his mouth, and suddenly Hunter was someone’s prisoner, too.

CHAPTER 31

These arms were like steel. Hunter couldn’t even get leverage.

Especially since the ground wouldn’t let go of his feet.

“Stop fighting,” a voice growled in his ear. “I’m trying to help you, kid.”

Michael Merrick.

Hunter stopped fighting. Michael’s hand came off his mouth.

“We need to help her,” Hunter said. He felt like he was choking on his words. “We need to—we need—”

“If you run out there, he’ll kill you, too. Just—”

“Come on, Hunter!” yelled Silver. “You have three seconds.”

Michael tightened his grip before Hunter realized he was trying to surge free. A hand was over his mouth again.

“One!” said Silver.

Hunter couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see past his own rage. Michael wrestled him to the ground.

“Two!”

He had no idea what was going to happen at three, but he had to—

A gun went off.

For the longest time, Hunter couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in his ears.

He couldn’t think.

He couldn’t think.

Then he realized Michael still had a death grip and was murmuring in his ear. “Keep still. Come on, Hunter. Keep still.”

The leaves around them were shaking.

No, that was him, trembling, making the leaves shake.

Leaves. Foliage had grown up and around them. Hiding them from sight.

Or it would be if Hunter didn’t ruin the illusion. He swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

He felt tears on his cheeks.

Kate was okay. She had to be okay. It had to be a ploy.

But he’d seen those arrows pierce her body.

He’d heard the gunshot.

No. They would get out of this. He could heal her. Michael could help.

Kate.

He couldn’t sense her at all. He could sense Michael’s fear and Silver’s patience and the danger in the air, but he couldn’t feel Kate.

“I think he’s leaving,” said Michael, his voice barely a whisper. “Keep still.”

He didn’t want to keep still. Silver was standing right there. Shock was filtering into fury, and Hunter wanted to shoot that motherfucker in the head. His fingers were itching for a trigger, to feel the kick and recoil and taste vengeance.

“Go ahead,” called Silver, as if he felt the rage in the air and found it satisfying. “Try to shoot me.”

Michael tightened his grip. “No, Hunter. No. You blow our cover and we are screwed.”

So they waited.

Silver waited.

The sun crept into the sky and fed warmth into the woods, narrowing shadows between the trees. Tension slid through the leaves and choked Hunter, until he was ready to shoot Michael, just to escape it. His shoulders began to ache from being pinned so long.

It felt like hours.

It probably was hours.

She was alone out there. Probably in pain.

Hang on, he thought. Just hang on.

Finally a cell phone rang, out there in the woods. Silver’s. He answered, but his voice was too low to carry.

Hunter caught the word terminated.

He couldn’t breathe again.

But Kate could be faking. Waiting Silver out, too. Like Casper had been waiting at the house.

The conversation was short. Silver slipped the phone into a pocket and strode out of the woods.

Michael still didn’t let Hunter go.

“Wait,” Michael said. “I want to wait until I feel a vehicle leaving.”

Finally—finally—Michael released him.

Hunter swung around and hit him. As hard as he could.

Then he was scrabbling through the underbrush, stumbling once he found his feet, slipping out of his shoes in the mud. His breath was hitching again.

When he saw Kate, it was like his brain didn’t want to process all of it. He saw her shoes, the borrowed jeans, again splattered with blood.

The pink shirt.

The bloodstains. The arrows. The flies, already collecting.

Then he saw her head and wished he hadn’t seen any of it.

She hadn’t been waiting. She hadn’t been in pain.

He wanted to touch her and he didn’t.

He was going to be sick.

Michael caught him and jerked him back. “Don’t,” he said. “You can’t touch her. You can’t have this traced back to you.”

Hunter shoved him in the chest, throwing all his strength into it. His voice was raw and edged with pain. “You made me wait! We could have saved her.”

“No, Hunter—”

He hit him again. “We could have—she’s—”

“It was too late. He’d stabbed her through the chest. Hunter, it was too late.”

“Damn you!” Another shove. “We could have—she’s—she’s—”

And then he was sobbing and Michael caught him, holding him tight.

“I’m sorry,” Michael was saying. “I’m sorry.”

Hunter let himself have about fifteen seconds of pity. Then he shoved free of Michael’s hands and swiped the tears off his face.

He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want anything.

His fists were clenched at his sides, and he suspected he’d completely lose control if he let go.

“We need to move,” Michael said quietly.

“I’m not just leaving her here.”

“Hunter—”

“I’m not just leaving her to get eaten by insects and wild animals.” His voice was shaking with fury. “Do you understand me? So either get a shovel out of your truck or I’ll dig by hand.”

“No shovel,” said Michael.

“Fine.” Hunter took a step forward.

Michael caught his arm. “I’ll take care of it. Just give me a minute.”

Then he knelt in the dirt and put a hand against the ground.

He was right: it only took a minute. The earth just swallowed her up, gradually at first, her body sinking into the dirt as if the ground was simply giving way. But then the hole began to fill in over her, grass and foliage growing back into place.

As if nothing had happened.

Hunter stared. He’d thought this would be better—but it was worse. He needed the action, the physicality of digging a hole. He needed the closure.