Dark Desires After Dusk (43 page)

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Authors: Kresley Cole

BOOK: Dark Desires After Dusk
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By the time she'd reached the edge of the town once more, her clothes and hair had frozen. Ice formed on her eyelashes.

As Holly turned in dazed circles, shuddering from cold and shock, she felt warmth from above. She raised her face in confusion.

The northern lights.

They waved and floated so peacefully, calling to her, beckoning like opened arms.

Without thought, Holly ran headlong toward them, into the darkest wilds, with no other thought than to follow the lights . . . .

46

H
olly had eluded him for four days, but Cade was fast on her trail, hauling ass down a frozen road toward another mining town. He had even more of his crew scouring the countryside for her.

Cade had lost her in Prosperity that night. After finding a scene of carnage, Cade had realized the reason he hadn't been attacked by Wendigos was because she'd slaughtered every last one, unwittingly saving his life.

After that, she hadn't headed south as anyone else in her position would have. Had she gone in that direction, then she would've been trapped in the same bottleneck that had blocked his men.

Nor had she headed east, following the river or the road toward easier terrain.

She'd cannily headed northwest, straight into the heart of the mountains.

By chance, he stumbled upon her direction, having spied a miner with a black eye and a broken arm. The man had grown cagey when given Holly's description.

Apparently, she'd cleaned his clock.
Good girl . . .

Cade had broken the man's other arm for her trouble.

Once on her trail, Cade had been able to readily trace her movements because the men in the Territories remembered her. In the dead of winter, not many females were about, much less beautiful ones.

At the portage where the miner had previously stayed, Cade had been directed to the next town to the north. There, Holly had sold her watch for a single meal and a pair of snowshoes, then made her way on foot to another camp. Once she'd bunked through the worst of a storm, she'd begun hitching to the mining town Cade now sped to.

He believed he was only hours behind her—he'd find her there. The thought made him increase his speed even more.

She was out of money and had no one to call. She wouldn't contact her human friends and didn't have Nïx's number. Not that she would call her aunt anyway. Holly had to know that Nïx had been in on the scheme from the beginning.

The scheme . . .
Cade's gaze flickered over the sheathed sword propped on the passenger's seat. Cade hated the mere sight of it, a constant reminder that he'd been forced to choose yet again.

Before, he hadn't really gotten the term “hollow victory”—
a win is a win, so what's not to like?
—but now he understood.

The ne'er-do-well had finally done well.

And he'd never felt more like a failure.

Because of him, Holly was in constant danger, no doubt afraid and confused. Yes, she was stronger, but she was still so young and had hardly ever left New Orleans, much less hitched across the Territories in the winter.

The worry for her was punishing. In his lifetime, Cade had been tortured many times. He'd been a sinew away from being beheaded. None of those ordeals came close to the constant ache in his chest . . .

Cade was in love with her. Damn it, he wanted his halfling back.

*   *   *

Holly huddled down in a side alley, sitting on a mound of dirty snow. More of the vile stuff was coming down wetly. If she never saw snow again . . .

She had no idea where she was. Yet another barren mining town. They were beginning to blur together.

Unable to sleep for the last four days, she was nearing mental and physical exhaustion. The hunger she hadn't felt in weeks now redoubled, making her dizzy.

She was out of money, her watch long since sold, and there were no banks for wiring funds here. There wasn't even a regular post. Not that she had anyone to contact for help.

I am utterly alone—

The pay phone at the corner began to ring. As a girl who worshipped technology, Holly didn't want to be in a place where there were still pay phones about. Pay phones equaled somewhere she oughtn't ever be.

Eventually it stopped ringing.

So what to do now?
I can keep moving, or I can sit in the dirty snow till I freeze.

She actually
could
sit in the dirt. No longer was it incapacitating for her. Of late, fate had enrolled Holly in a comprehensive immersion therapy. She hadn't showered for days, had no way to brush her teeth. She'd slept in unwashed sheets, bunking in portages that smelled of men's feet and cooked onions.

What is my next move?
She could only hope to hitch another ride—

The ringing began again, and this time the sound grated on her frayed nerves. She shakily rose, then crossed to the phone, intending to take it off the hook. But once she picked it up, curiosity compelled her to answer.

“Hello?” Her voice was hoarse.

“Look for us!” Nïx yelled over blaring music. “We're vibrating with bass.” Click.

What—the—hell? Holly hung up the phone, staring at it for long moments, as if it held the answers as to how and why Nïx had just called her.

Minutes later, a red thumping SUV skidded to a stop in front of her. A Valkyrie with a glowing face and a wry expression was behind the wheel. Nïx was in the passenger seat, waving for Holly to get in.

Holly flipped her off, returning to burrow in her dirty snow.

The two women followed her.

“Wow, you look like a bucket-o-fuck,” the glowing one told Holly.

In a cheery tone, Nïx said, “This is your aunt, Regin the Radiant. We don't believe she possesses verbal governors of any kind. Now, come along, dearling. We're late for the airport.”

Holly's brows rose. “I'm not going anywhere with you.”

Nïx blinked in confusion. “Why ever not?”

Holly gaped before she could finally find words. “Maybe because you lied to me, tricking me to go off with an evil demon? One who turned me over to a sorcerer who planned to impregnate me with the
ultimate
evil!”

Nïx tapped her gloved finger against her chin. “I guess you couldn't throw Cade very far.”

I'm going to sack her. I'm going to shove her face into the yellow snow over there.

Nïx chided, “Now, dearling, that's not nice . . . .”

“I want to talk to Holly alone,” Regin said.

With a shrug, Nïx turned for the car. Once she and Holly
were alone, Regin said, “There are four reasons why you should come with me now. Firstly, there's food in the car, and apparently, you're still a masticator. Second, a warm shower and a clean bed can be had in less than two hours. Thirdly, Nïx is bat-shit crazy, and you're not the first one of us that she's sent on a freaky vision quest. And the last reason you should come with me?
I
didn't fuck you over.”

Holly kind of liked this Regin. After all the duplicity she'd dealt with, a straight shooter might be nice to be around.

Yet then, even Regin resorted to trickery. “Very well. I didn't want to have to do this, Holly.” She sighed. “But you're leaving me no choice.” From her pocket, she pulled out a cache of antibacterial wipes, waving them enticingly. “Look what Auntie Reege has. Who's your buddy? Who's your favorite Valkyrie?”

When Holly somehow resisted, Regin sighed, “Fuck this noiseage,” then swooped Holly up under her arm, pinning her to her side. Though Holly fought, she carried her to the truck. Once Nïx reached back to open the door, Regin tossed Holly in the backseat.

Holly was still sputtering, dragging her matted hair from her eyes when the truck took off, heading out of the city.

Nïx turned to face her. “Well, did you have fun on your adventure?”

I'm delirious. This is what it feels like to be in delirium.
“Oodles of.”

“Good.” Nïx handed her granola bars. Holly gorged on them without even taking off her filthy gloves.

“Soon we'll be in New Orleans, where you can meet your coven. We have your room all set up—you're to live with us at Val Hall now.”

“New Orleans?” Holly sputtered, choking on granola. “You sent me across the entire
continent
when I'd been in the same city as my own kind?”

At her nod, Holly gave a weird, high giggle. She started laughing outright and couldn't seem to stop, even after she'd also begun crying.

“There, there,” Nïx said. “If I hadn't sent you on this trip, then you wouldn't have your own page in
The Book of Warriors
!”

“We're here,” Regin said, turning into what looked like an airfield.

“Seriously, dearling, you need to chillax.”

“Why,
Auntie
Nïx? Why do I need to do
anything
?”

“Because in minutes, you're going to see the demon at the chopper pad.”

Two things registered in Holly's addled brain. She was about to ride in a helicopter.

And she'd be damned before Cadeon saw her crying. She ran her crusty sleeve over her face.

“Why is he coming here?” she asked as they parked next to a sleek, silver helicopter with blackened windows.

“Because he's after you,” Nïx said, hopping out of the car.

When her aunts jogged toward the chopper, Holly followed. “
Why
is he after me?” she asked Nïx, having to yell over the rotors.

Regin got there first and slid open the door. “I love the smell of napalm in the morning!” She ushered Nïx in, shoved Holly up, then climbed inside behind her. A female pilot began pressing buttons and flipping switches. The rotors sped up, growing louder.

Holly cried, “Nïx!”

“Oh, yes, of course. What was I thinking? Holly, this is your aunt Cara the Fair.”

The pilot gave her a two-finger salute against a helmet that read
Fly Me Friendly
.

Nïx continued, “She's part Fury, as well. She's flying us all legs on the way home, and then she's off to . . .”

“Colombia,” Cara finished for her.

“Nïx, damn it! Tell me!”

Her brows drew together. “Tell you what, dearling?”

“Let it go for now,” Regin said. “She's spaced.”

They'd just lifted off when a truck skidded to a stop, and Cadeon jumped from the cab.

She frowned when he charged for them, with his eyes black, pumping his arms for speed, looking more determined than she'd ever seen him. But why? Seller's remorse?

Or worse?

What did he think the Vessel would get him now? A magickal bow and arrow? An enchanted shield?

Regin slapped her knees. “Oh, my gods, look at him running like his life depended on catching us.” She slid open the door. “Is this straight outta
Platoon,
or what? Willem!” she cried, holding out one hand. “Run, Willem!” Then she choked on her laughter.

“Why would he be doing this?” Holly whispered to herself, but even over the clamoring rotors, Regin heard her.

“Why do you
care
? Historically, whenever a prick serves me up to a skeevy sorcerer to use like a brood mare, I stop analyzing his motives. Historically. Now give him a nice New York State bird, and get him out of your head.”

47

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