Hunter's Fall (42 page)

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Authors: Shiloh Walker

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Paranormal, #Fiction

BOOK: Hunter's Fall
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Had he
wanted
to find her?
Tears leaked from her eyes, and the confusion in her head spread, growing worse, and worse.
He had found her, because he’d been compelled to. Somehow fate had conspired to place him on a road that would lead him to her—after
five hundred fucking years
. And it had been one awful, horrid road.
He’d suffered. The weight of his pain, it bore down on her. Hurt her deep inside, a vicious, twisting pain that left her struggling to breathe past it.
Suffered, just so he would find her.
Because he had no choice . . .
“I could live with that,” she whispered to herself. No matter what his reasons for being here, he
was
here, and although he barely knew her, didn’t remember her, didn’t
know
her . . . she could make him fall in love with her. She could—after all, wasn’t that why he was here? Now?
After all this time?
“Why now?”
Squirming out of his arms, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared upward.
“Why
now
?” she demanded. “After what I did . . . after what I’ve become? How could you let me do that? How?”
Her voice rose until she was shouting. Through her tears, she stared up toward the God she no longer wanted to believe in. All this time, she’d waited all this time, only for her lover to return to her . . . and she was broken.
Fallen.
Lifting her hands, she stared at them. She could still feel the blood.
Still feel the song of its power.
In the back of her mind, as though she had just been waiting for the chance to slip out and torment, there was Morgan. And of course the leech had been waiting—the only time she could break free was when Nessa let her guard down.
Morgan’s voice, angrier, more vicious than ever, mocked her.
“Yeah, why now? Why couldn’t he have come back when you were a haggard, ugly old crone so covered with wrinkles, he’d never recognize you?
Then
he wouldn’t have wanted you. But now you’ve got my hot self and he’s all over your ass.”
“Oh, do shut
up
,” Nessa snarled.
Surging off the bed, she stormed to the mirror and stared at herself. It was her reflection, but she didn’t
see
herself. She saw Morgan . . . the ghost of the witch who’d owned this body, hovering around her, clinging to life . . . haunting her.
An abrupt, irrational wave of anger flooded her, swamped her. Morgan’s body still remembered the rush from blood power. Craved it. If those cravings hadn’t been riding her, would she have fallen so far?
“
Oh, you can’t blame
me
for that
, ” Morgan responded, laughing.
“You can try as much as you want, but it wasn’t
my
hands that killed that man.
I
wasn’t the one soaking up his power, his essence, feeding off his pain and his anger and his fear. It was
you
. ”
Nessa slammed a hand against the mirror. It shattered.
“No.”
She blew out a harsh breath and said quietly, “I might have killed him, but it wasn’t my hands that reached for his blood—that isn’t a power I even knew how to manipulate. That was yours, and you can’t fool me into thinking otherwise.”
“So fucking what? You were there and you felt the rush, same as me. You killed him and you got off on the power, just like I did. You’ll crave it the same as I do.”
“Actually,” Nessa murmured, “no. I believe it will just be me craving the blood. I’ll have to fight it on my own in the future.”
Focusing on the anger, the rage, she wound her power around Morgan’s essence, lingering so deep inside her mind.
Morgan, sensing Nessa’s intention, shrieked and fought, tugging against Nessa’s hold, struggling desperately.
“It’s past time I do this, don’t you think?”
“You can’t—damn it, you old bitch, I’m part of you now. Take me out, you may damn well die.”
“Then that’s a risk I’ll have to take . . . I won’t live with
you
inside me.”
She couldn’t. She couldn’t risk it . . . especially not now.
“I just fucking want my body back! My life
.
”
Then, oddly, there was a catch, a sob in her thoughts and Morgan whispered, “
I never really even had much of a chance
.
I only did what I had to.
”
Calm spread over Nessa and softly, she whispered, “Yes. Perhaps you did what you had to . . . perhaps you had no choice.”
Perhaps Morgan had just been a pawn—a pawn used in these odd circumstances that had led straight up to the moment Nessa had plunged that dagger into Dominic’s back, so close to destroying the heart.
Blowing out a sigh, Nessa said, “Perhaps you had no choice. And now . . . I have no choice. You don’t belong here, precious. Not anymore.”
Nessa closed her eyes. The air in the room grew cold . . . tight. Brittle . . . as though it would shatter if she breathed too deeply, if she moved wrong, if she even thought wrong.
Trapped in the web of Nessa’s power, Morgan’s soul struggled, thrashed. Pushed for control, tried to edge back inside Nessa’s mind.
But she hadn’t the power, not now.
“I should have done this long ago,” she said quietly.
Morgan screamed.
Nessa felt it echoing inside her head, reverberating like a gong. Hissing out a breath, she shoved the presence away.
Out.
Out of
her
mind. Her body.
It was almost anticlimactic—one moment Morgan was fighting, shrieking, struggling.
And then Nessa was alone—completely and utterly alone inside her head, left to stare in the mirror at her fractured reflection.
“My body.” Hers—just as the awful, wrong choices she’d made were hers. Completely and utterly . . . hers. She hadn’t asked for this body—hadn’t done a damn thing to bring it about. Whether it was some weird twist of fate, some strange machination of the powers that be, she didn’t know.
But she hadn’t done this—it had been done
to
her. To both of them—to her, and to Morgan.
She looked back at her hands, remembering the blood. Remembering the choices she’d made. She’d taken lives during that foggy, surreal time when she’d forgotten herself. She could live with killing others—she’d done it hundreds of times, perhaps thousands. But always to protect another.
She could no longer say that, and she wasn’t sure she could live with what she had done.
Her throat tight, she turned to look at Dominic. His long, lean body stretched out on the bed and he slumbered, peaceful and at ease.
Tears stung Nessa’s eyes. She hadn’t been at ease with herself in so long. Hadn’t been at peace.
Now happiness lay just inches away.
But she no longer deserved it. She didn’t deserve him.
Rising from the bed, she murmured once more, “Why now?”
But it didn’t matter. She had made her choices . . . and even as she made them, she had questioned them—
known
they were wrong.
“But it didn’t stop me.”
She’d been making bad decisions for some time now. Even before the debacle with Isis, followed by her unintentional self-curse. So many wrong decisions.
“No more.”
No more.
CHAPTER 23
 
H
E woke alone.
Dominic had been pretty damn sure that he wouldn’t have to do that again. At least not today.
But he woke alone.
Sitting up, he stared out the window into the fading day and tried to understand.
She was gone. Not just in another room, but gone. And judging by the slowly fading scent, she’d been gone for a while—more than a few hours.
A note.
Maybe she’d left a note.
Hell, she
was
a Hunter—he knew what it was like to get that nagging, demanding call, one that jerked and pulled, demanded obedience. A Hunter had to follow that call.
So maybe that’s what was going on.
But his instincts said otherwise.
His heart said otherwise. He might not want to believe it, might want to deny it, fight it, but in his heart, he knew.
For some reason he didn’t understand,
couldn’t
understand, she was gone.
Swearing, he scooped up clothes from the floor, uncaring that they were dirty, still stained with blood. He had to find her.
And fortunately, he knew how to do just that.
Off to the west, the sun lingered in the air, taunting him. It was a few hours before the sun was completely gone, and fate wasn’t even being kind enough to give him an overcast day.
But Dominic didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t a brand-new vamp—it would take more than a little bit of sunlight to do him in, although this sure as hell wouldn’t be pleasant. He didn’t give a fuck. He wasn’t spending any more time without her—not if he had a choice. And he damned well
wouldn’t
do it, period, without understanding why.
As he stormed out of the cabin into the soft, pale golden rays of sunlight, he muttered, “I just found you. I am
not
losing you.”
 
 
“
W
HAT is she doing here?”
Kelsey gathered her hair into a loose ponytail and shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Malachi scowled, staring across the campus at her. Roughly an hour ago, he’d sensed her just before she’d arrived—using the very handy skill some of the more talented witches had. Flying—much like his own ability to dematerialize—wasn’t a common gift.
And for a witch like Nessa, it was as easy as breathing . . . part of the reason he was hesitant to go speak with her just yet.
“She feels like a storm,” Kelsey said, her hand resting just above her heart as though it hurt. “Angry. Sad. Desperate.”
“Then she still hasn’t seen him.” Malachi blew out a breath and rubbed his neck. “We can fix this, then. I’ll track the lad down and . . . ”
“No.” Kelsey turned and came into his arms, wrapping hers around his waist and holding him tight. “She’s seen him. She knows. I can feel it.”
“But, if she’s seen him, why is she here alone?”
“I don’t know.”
Malachi stroked a hand down her back, resting his chin on the crown of her head. “Then maybe we should find out?”
“No.” Kelsey closed her eyes. “Not yet. Not until she’s . . . well, a little less likely to fly apart.”
 
 
“
D
ON’T suppose you want to tell me what in the hell you’re doing here, do you?”
Sliding Kelsey a look from the corner of her eye, Nessa said in a flat, harsh voice, “I want to be alone. You’re interfering.”
“Too damned bad.” Kelsey stormed into the cabin and gave it a dirty look. “You show back up at my school and think I won’t want to know what in the hell is going on?”
“Your school?” Nessa smirked. “
Your
school . . . should I have begged permission first?”
“Don’t give me that crap.” Kelsey made a face. “Damn it, Agnes, you’re one of my dearest friends—you’ve been mother, sister, teacher to me—damn near
everything
. Save for Mal, there is no one on earth I love as much as I love you.”
Weary, Nessa reached up and rubbed her neck. “Yes, love. I do know that. I . . . I just need to be alone.”
“
Why
? For God’s sake, you’ve spent too much time
alone
and now that you don’t
have
to be alone, you’re
choosing
to be?”
“I don’t deserve more than that.” She swallowed the knot in her throat. With the shame clawing at her stomach, she met Kelsey’s gaze.
“What in the hell does that mean?”
Tears glimmered in Kelsey’s eyes and she stared at Nessa, all the love, all the passion, all the life she had inside shining in those eyes.
Such a true soul—so pure, so strong. She’d been willing to die, more than once, to save those she loved. And Nessa had spent the past few years tormenting those she loved, toying with death with no regard for them. So desperate to escape the life she’d been given, this second chance, so desperate . . .
“My dear friend, it means just that. I
don’t
deserve him. I fell, Kelsey. And heavens . . . did I fall hard.” Nessa shook her head. “I’m not even sure I deserve to be here.”
“Bullshit.”
Narrowing her eyes, Nessa looked at Kelsey. “Pardon me, but you weren’t there, so you really don’t know, do you?”

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