Embraced by Darkness (36 page)

So the hunter had become the hunted. Nothing new in
that
situation. Question was, why was he so damned confident?

Granted, he and his twin had a good number of kills under their belts, and those kills were either weres or shifters who were traditionally stronger and faster than humans.

But Rhoan and I were guardians. Trained killers. Well, Rhoan was. I was still very much the new kid on the block, and more than happy to stay that way. Yet Jorn had shown no fear of either of us. Had absolutely no doubt that he could track me down and kill me.

Why?

He obviously knew what guardians were capable of—they’d moved out of England to get away from Directorate interest there.

So why the confidence?

Was it just another pointer to their obvious insanity? Or had they done to me what they’d done to Rhoan?

I felt under my armpits, but there didn’t seem to be anything foreign there. Which didn’t mean there wasn’t a bomb somewhere inside me, just that I couldn’t feel it. And I couldn’t remove something I couldn’t feel. Though if what Jorn had said about its power source was true, then removing it wasn’t the best option right now anyway.

Which left me with only one thing to do—nothing. Just wait for the hunt to begin.

Another hour went by. I rose and began stretching, readying muscles but trying not to think about the hunt that was coming.

Then, finally, the door clicked open. I remained where I was, nostrils flaring, trying to catch any scent that would indicate that either Jorn or Yohan was close. There was nothing. Just the freshness of dawn.

I stepped out of my cell, the concrete cold under my bare feet as I looked at the ceiling. No cameras. Nothing to tell them I was on the move. What would happen if I waited here? The barn might not be the best fighting arena, but there were plenty of shadows to hide within. How would they know just where I was?

Unless, of course, there was a sensor at the red gate he’d told me to go through.

I blew out a frustrated breath, then walked forward. I couldn’t afford to risk Rhoan’s life on what-ifs. If Jorn and Yohan wanted a hunt, a hunt they would get. And this hunter fully intended to see the tables turned.

Hints of red and gold touched the predawn sky, and the air was crisp, holding the scents of eucalyptus and sea. I padded along the edge of the path, keeping to the shadows, ears attuned to the growing hum of the day, listening for any sound that was out of tune. There was still nothing to indicate either man was watching. Maybe they were intending a fair hunt.

And maybe tomorrow I’d become human.

Yohan and Jorn might want a good hunt, but in the end, they also wanted—needed—to win. Which meant, if it got down to the nitty-gritty, fairness would go out the window.

The red gate came into view. It was a big, wooden affair that merged into the surrounding ferns and was stained almost black. The gated opened as I neared, meaning someone
was
watching, even if I couldn’t see them. Maybe the whole island was dotted with cameras.

I walked through, realizing as I did that the gates weren’t actually black, but a very dark, reddish color. A dark red that smelled of death.

Blood stained that wood, not paint.

A shudder went through me, which was probably the precise reaction they were after. It
had
to be a tactic to unnerve their targets, to make them think about what might happen. After all, not everyone was like Rhoan and me, and used to the scent of death.

I headed into the shadows of the nearby forest. The trees and ferns closed in, surrounding me with shadows. I pulled them closer, hiding my form, and followed the rise of the land. I needed to get up higher and see just what was around me. Maybe even get some idea of where the buildings were, and where Rhoan might be.

I ran up the steep slope, trying to slip past the heavy fern fronds without breaking them, keeping to firmer ground so my footsteps weren’t as visible—a difficult task when the ground was so covered by leaves and other forest rubbish.

Sweat began to trickle down my spine and my leg started to ache. Too much more and I’d probably begin to limp. Not what I needed right now. I blew out a breath and struggled on, only to slip on a bit of rotten leaf matter and come down hard on my knees.

And noticed then, as I was biting back a yelp of pain, that the cheery songs of the birds had suddenly silenced.

Felt the sting of silver fly over the top of my head and punch a hole in the tree trunk three feet ahead.

Ten-minute head start my
ass
.

Though why I had been stupid enough to believe it was anyone’s guess. I mean, it wasn’t like I was unfamiliar with bad men making promises they never intended to keep. Swearing softly, I swung around and sucked in the air, trying to scent my pursuers.

Nothing.

No giveaway aromas, no sound. The forest was deathly quiet and very still, yet an odd sort of tension seemed to run through the trees.

Human tension. The sort of tension that came with excitement and danger.

I might not be able to see or smell them, but something within me could
feel
them. Or rather, feel what they were feeling. Which normally would have pissed me off, simply because I shouldn’t have been able to feel such a thing. But right now—and for the first time in my life—I was actually thankful that the drugs were producing a talent that was immediately useful.

They were down the hill and to my left. Not close, but obviously close enough to use a rifle sight. Which they were probably using right now to get another fix on me. Maybe the shadows weren’t as deep or as thick as I’d presumed, and the gathering light was enough to break my cover.

Either way, I couldn’t stay here. I scrambled upright and pushed through the ferns, keeping low as I ran, not worrying about leaving a trail for them to follow. It was better to simply get some distance between us again.

Fronds and branches whipped across my body as I ran, making me wish I had a sweater on. Preferably a dark one. But I was stuck with a bright yellow tank top, which meant that I might as well stand still and wave a target in the middle of all this lush greenery.

Which had me wondering again just where this island was situated. We couldn’t be along the coast anywhere near my home state. Victorian islands were more scrubby than lush, and it certainly would have been a whole lot colder at this early hour of the day.

I continued to scramble upward. The smell of my sweat stained the air, and my lungs were beginning to burn, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps that echoed across the silence.

Easy enough to track, if the twins had good hearing.

And they obviously did, because they were still behind me, still chasing. I might have vampire speed, but in this environment it was damn hard to use it. And every now and again I felt the quiver of silver approaching, heard the ping of a bullet off a nearby tree trunk.

The crest of the hill finally came into sight. The trees didn’t thin out, however, remaining as thick at the top as they’d been on the slope. I paused, reaching for that sense that allowed me to “feel” them. One was heading to my left, the other to the right. They were still below me but not climbing any farther just yet.

I had time to see where the hell I was.

I quickly scanned the trees until I found one that was ripe for climbing. I scrambled up the trunk then through the gum’s leafy branches, my heart going a mile a minute.

I swung out on a thick branch, walking along carefully until the bough dipped and quivered under my weight. The island stretched before me, a small dot of green in the otherwise blue surrounds of the sea. We had to be in Queensland—or at least the top end of New South Wales—somewhere, given that blueness. Victorian waters looked a whole lot darker and colder. There didn’t seem to be any rooftops poking out through the trees below me, but there was a sandy-looking road that wound up from the beach. I followed the course of that road, edging around on my branch, and finally spotted a building sitting in a clearing one hill over.

It didn’t appear to be a house, or even a barn like the one I’d been taken into. It was small and squat, and very, very strong looking. A cell, I thought, for dangerous quarry. That’s where Rhoan would be.

All I had to do now was get rid of my pursuers, then get over there and free him. Easy.

Not
.

Another bullet burned through the air, this time slicing past my ear and drawing blood. I yelped softly and dropped to the ground, the shock of the jump reverberating up my spine and sending shooting pain through my healing leg. I brushed my fingers against the ground to regain my balance and sucked in the thick, aromatic air.

This time, I smelled Jorn. He was to my right, and moving fast. I called to my wolf form and shifted shape, then ran left and down, intending to come up underneath him. I ran fast—limping only a little—and kept to the shadows, my wolf form more suited to this sort of landscape, making little noise and leaving nothing in the way of a trail.

He shouldn’t have seen me. Shouldn’t have heard me.

Yet somehow, he did.

This time I was close enough to hear the muted sound of a gunshot before the bullet even neared me. I threw myself sideways, restraining a yelp as a rock dug painfully into my side, then rose and ran straight for his scent.

Another gunshot.

Another bullet dodged.

Then his scent filled the air and he was before me. I launched straight at him, teeth bared, a growl rumbling up my throat.

He scrambled backward, excitement and fear flashing across his features as he attempted to raise the rifle and use it as a club. I was on him before he succeeded, my teeth slashing past cloth and deep into flesh. Blood filled my mouth, exciting the wolf, sickening the human. I ignored the latter, ripping my teeth sideways, taking a huge chunk of flesh with me.

He screamed and hit me hard in the side. It felt like iron, that blow, and pain rose—a red tide that momentarily blotted out the wolf’s eagerness. Winded and aching, I leapt away, spitting out his blood and skin as I twisted around to face him.

His left arm was a torn mess. Blood poured from the wound, soaking his shirt, filling the air with its scent. He was lucky. I’d been aiming for his neck, and I hadn’t missed by much.

“For this,” he said, moving his bloody left arm, “you will pay.”

I bared my teeth and growled, then hunkered down low and launched myself at him again. He swung the rifle around, using the stock like a club, the weapon swishing through the air with enough force to break bones. I twisted away, felt the breeze of it skim past my already bruised side. My claws dug into the soft soil as I hit the ground, the dirt flying free as I jumped at him again.

I was in the air when I felt the burn of approaching silver. Heard the crash of steps through the trees behind us.

Yohan, coming to save his brother.

Rhoan and I might not share the telepathy of twins, but these two sure did.

I twisted awkwardly, making bones crack along my spine as I dropped to the ground. The bullet crashed past the tip of my ear and exploded into a nearby sapling, sending leaf and branch matter flying. I lunged forward, tearing at Jorn’s legs, slashing through his skin and drawing blood. He lashed out again, the rifle butt coming down hard on my side. I yelped, and dove for the shadows of the nearby trees.

I might be a guardian, I might be speedy and strong, but a silver bullet could still bring me down. And it was far better for me to tackle them one at a time. Especially when it was becoming increasingly obvious that while these two might be human, they had reflexes and senses as sharp as any nonhuman.

Killing them wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d presumed.

I shifted back to human shape, using the change to help ease the ache in my side, then ran on, down the hill, up the next one, trying to get some distance, some maneuvering room, between us. But they remained annoyingly close.

I wasn’t making that much noise, not now, nor was I leaving that much of a trail. Running as I was, there was always going to be signs to follow, but they shouldn’t have been able to track me this easily while running flat out. And yet they were.

Did they have psychic skills other than telepathy? I was beginning to think that was probably the case. I’d never actually heard of a talent that allowed people to track nonhumans, but as Rhoan was wont to say, there were more strange things on this earth than we would ever know about.

I ran a hand across my forehead, flicking away sweat, my gaze searching the trees ahead. The scent of the sea was growing stronger, and the treetops were beginning to shiver with a sea breeze. The last thing I needed was to find myself out on the sand. I needed the trees as protection from the bullets until I found a way to separate the two of them again.

Awareness of the twins surged again, and a second later the air screamed a warning that several bullets were hurtling toward me. I threw myself down, sending leaf matter and dirt flying as the bullets burned over my right shoulder and pinged into a nearby trunk. Bark exploded into the air, raining down around me. For several seconds I lay there, listening to their light steps, the easy way they seemed to move through the forest. Was it worth confronting them? I could take the two of them, I had no doubt of that. The only problem was the silver bullets. It would only take one to end my fight, and with Rhoan still captive, I dared not risk getting hit. Better to run, to wait for the right moment.