Immortal Flame (19 page)

He scowled up at the cloudy midday sky as he calculated the hours of daylight left. Catching a glimpse of her luminous face, pink in the cold air, he couldn't formulate a plan of attack in his mind. He couldn't stop staring at her full lips, set in a grim line. He had to focus on getting Quincy, but damn it, Allie's soft skin captured his attention.

When she swung the backpack around and pulled out a water bottle, the vision of her lips on the container nearly ruined him. Before he registered the action, he ran his thumb over his bottom lip.

He curled his hand into a fist and shoved it into his jeans pocket. “Any more images of Quincy?”

“Not specifically, only flickers. I think we're heading in the right direction. It feels right.” She motioned with a gloved hand toward the toboggan on her head. “And even with the snow falling, I can still see indentions from his footprints.”

He knelt and touched a deep footprint. “He didn't have snowshoes on. It might take him a little longer to cover the same terrain.”

“Is it slower even for someone like you?” At Peter's nod, she continued. “He's post-holing with every step, so it's got to take effort to keep hiking the trail. It'll get worse the higher we go; steep switchbacks begin twenty yards or so up the trail.”

“How much farther are we talking about total?”

She squinted at the cloud-covered mountains. “About three more miles. It's a steep trail. We'll go up another 2,000 feet in elevation. I'm guessing the snow will be way deeper up there.”

“Why don't I help you a little?”

“Pardon?”

Her deep green gaze took his breath away.
Concentrate
.

“I can carry you for a while.” At her scowl, he put his hands up, palms to her. “Not that you're not making great time. You're doing fine.”

“But?”

“Well, I don't really get … tired. I can cover terrain more quickly than you'd be able to by yourself. You can rest and focus on Quincy.”

She eyed the trail. “Well, if it's not going to hurt you or wear you out … ”

“I promise. The side effect of my condition is that I'm like a freakish Energizer bunny.”

Her quick smile lit up her entire face. He could get used to making her smile like that forever. If he had the right forever, that is.

She replaced her bottle in the backpack and zipped it up. “Okay, that makes sense. The sooner we get up there, the better. So, how … ?”

“Let's try piggyback. I can keep my hands free and use your poles to move faster.” He turned his backpack around to wear it on his chest. Motioning toward the dangerously tapered tails of her snowshoes, he said, “Maybe you should take those off? I might be semi-dead, but I'm still a guy and those will be much too close for comfort.”

She blushed red and removed and stowed her snowshoes.

He crouched as she stepped up behind him. Awkward in the snow, she jumped, and he caught her under her thighs and lifted, settling her on his hipbones. She wriggled to get situated, and he clamped his jaw down tightly as she nestled into the small of his back.

“All set?” he ground out hoarsely. Maybe this arrangement was a bad decision.

She looped one arm over his shoulder and the other under his armpit and laced her gloved fingers together. She locked her feet at his waist. “Yes.”

Peter picked up her poles and headed up the trail. Whether it was the mission, the crisp air, or the beautiful woman attached to his back, Peter didn't know what gave him the spring in his step as he bounded up the switchbacks.

• • •

Allison conceded this was a great idea. Peter's smooth, strong gait ate up the trail. The corded muscles of his upper butt and thighs bunched with each step, doing delightful things to the areas of her body pressed against him.

Thank God for his indefatigable strength. Although she was no slouch hiking on snowshoes, they were moving twice as fast at his pace. The creek disappeared into a ravine as they increased elevation. Once the trail bordered the creek again, they'd almost be at Aneroid Lake, in an hour or so.

But even if her crazy ability led them to Quincy, what next? Nothing. Peter had his obligation to kill criminals for hundreds more years. She'd made her decision clear. They had no future together. But that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy these fleeting moments of closeness before they parted. She'd come to rely on his steady faith in her gift, his assurance that they could do the impossible and rescue Quincy while getting out of this mess alive.

With a sigh, she rested her cheek on the back of his neck, absorbing the heat radiating out from his skin. Her lips grazed his hairline.

“Allie, you need to stop that.” His voice reverberated through her body.

“It's helping me focus on Quincy.”

“Yes, but
my
focus deserts me every time you breathe there.”

When she nuzzled right behind his ear, she felt the shudder pass through him. “You want me to stop?”

“Never,” he said.

They crested the hill and rejoined the creek.

She breathed in his spicy, warm scent. The crunch of his snowshoes and the distant rushing creek created a calming sound. Lulled by his warmth and his steady stride, she kept her face pressed to his neck and let her mind wander.

The connection lacked strength, but Allison managed to get back into her niece's thoughts. Through Quincy's eyes, Allison saw gray snow and a dark hole in the mountainside. She sobbed in terror as she was dragged into the darkness. The feedback from Quincy's exhaustion crept into Allison's arms, and she lost all of her strength.

Peter stopped and grabbed her sagging legs. “What is it?”

As he boosted her back up, she forced herself to hold on again. “I'm not sure. Something's going on with Quincy. It's dark.” She shook her head, trying to clear the fuzzy feeling. “Keep going, please, if you're not too tired.”

“Not at all.” He picked up the pace, panting a bit as his efficient strides moved them up the trail.

After a half hour, they crested another hill, and the terrain opened up into a wider valley where the creek, now a small stream, cut through a snowfield. Dotted throughout the valley were lodgepole pine trees. Low clouds hid the timberline and the mountaintops. A frozen lake came into view.

At the edge of the lake, the tracks stopped, and then went in opposite directions.

Peter stopped and helped Allison down. Without his warmth, she was lost, alone. The difficulty focusing must be due to fatigue. She dragged her attention to the tracks.

“What do you think?” he asked.

To the south, the tracks circled the lake beneath a slope of granite. The other set entered a stand of trees and appeared to be moving toward the open area at the far side of the lake.

He frowned. “Is he throwing us off? Playing games?”

She took off her glove. Grasping his warm hand, she focused on Quincy and felt a pull toward the north. “That way.” She nodded in the direction of the path through the trees.

Both on snowshoes now, they hiked through the trees as the snow fell. Arriving at the back of the lake, she spied a few small cabins on the hillside. She also felt hidden eyes on her.

“What's that?” He pointed to a circular wooden structure.

“That's a yurt. This is a small parcel carved out of Forest Service land from years ago when folks would pack horses up here to spend their summers.”

“Is Quincy in one of the cabins?”

Allison concentrated. “No, I don't think so, even though there are tracks to almost all of the cabins.”

“Putting us off the scent again?”

“Yes, but how does he know we're following him?”

• • •

Peter stopped cold in his tracks.

You must be getting close to being free. They threw the whole kit and caboodle at Barnaby before he finished his contract.

“What is it, Peter?”

He couldn't meet her eyes. “The man who took Quincy knew we would come up here.”

“How?”

Dread sucker-punched him in the stomach. “Your power. He knows about it. Hell, that means Jerahmeel knows about it, too. Not good.”

“Aren't you supposed to kill this guy?”

“Maybe. What I do know is that it's me he's ultimately after.”

“So that leaves me off the hook, right?”

He rubbed his jaw. “No. You're in grave danger. You're the collateral damage, the leverage. Oh, hell.”

“Why?”

Damn her trusting green eyes watching him like he would keep her safe. She had no idea. He had no idea if he even possessed enough strength to get her out of here alive before the minion attacked.

“This whole mess has to do with my contract ending. With the Meaningful Kill.”

“I don't understand.”

Deep, unrelenting fear doused him awake as surely as a bucket of ice water. This situation was a deadly endgame, and not for Peter. “They're going to try to destroy anything dear to me, to prevent me from completing the contract.”

“But completing the contract, that's good, right?”

At the impossible hope in her eyes, he had an overwhelming urge to kiss her pink nose. Then he wanted to shake her so she would understand the mortal danger she was in.

“Not if other people get hurt. He knew about your power. He knew you would lead me here. You have to leave. Now.”

She planted the poles and shot him an icy green glare. “I'm not leaving Quincy.”

He raked his hand through his hair. Never had he felt this helpless as a man, not even when Claire lay in the iron lung.

“Allie, I don't know if I can beat this guy. I might not be able to keep you alive. This is serious.”

Her chin jutted out.
Uh oh
. “I agree this is serious. I will find Quincy—with or without you.”

This brave, selfless woman would be the death of him. He had to save Quincy, destroy the minion, and keep Allie from being annihilated—all at the same time. How the hell could he pull this off? But if her crossed arms were any indication, he had no choice but to move forward.

He pointed up the frozen lakeshore. “Put your radar on. Let's find Quincy and maybe we can sneak out of here.”

Cold realization steadied his churning thoughts until he reached a state of calm, lethal focus. He couldn't destroy the minion.

But he could sacrifice himself for Allie. Hell. He set his jaw and followed her up the mountainside, every movement and every thought fixed on the task at hand.

Hiking past the cabins, Allie briefly stopped in front of each one with her hands outstretched, checking for Quincy. She motioned for them to continue onward.

Peter compulsively scanned the surrounding area, his nerves stretched taut. For the second time today, he nearly ran into Allie as she stopped short. The tracks traveled up a hillside and entered a dense stand of trees.

He didn't like this situation one bit. “I'm in front.”

“Not arguing with you there.” She followed him, bending into the incline.

All he could hear was Allie's light breath and the crunch of snow under the snowshoes as they skirted a boulder field. Soon, the trees thinned out and the tracks led into a small clearing.

Peter's internal alarm rang like a loud klaxon in his head.
Where is the minion, damn it?

On the hillside he spied an old mine entrance with snow disturbed in front of it.

Peter's body tensed at a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Strolling down the snowy slope was the stocky man from the park: the minion.

Allie gasped.

Peter stepped in front of her.

The guy grinned. Snow sizzled as it landed on the minion's head.

“Hello, Mr. Blackstone.” Tense, manic lines formed at the corners of the minion's bloodshot eyes.

Peter put an arm back to keep Allie behind him. “I believe you have me at a disadvantage.”

He studied the minion and scanned the surrounding area, every sense dedicated to his mission. Where was Quincy?

“My name's Anton. I'm an associate of our big boss, Jerahmeel.” He snickered for a minute. “Ah, hello, my beautiful pretty pretty.”

When Anton leered at Allie, only Peter's desire to protect her kept him from rushing at the man. If he stepped away, she'd be too exposed. Anton would have to go through Peter to get to her.

Anton tapped an eyebrow. “Lovely meeting you the other day.” His harsh, barking laugh raked through the cold air.

“Where's Quincy?”

“That delectable little girl?” Anton licked his dry lips.

“What have you done to her?” Peter's gut turned to ice.

“I made a new friend. You want to see?”

“She's an innocent. Leave her out of this.”

“Oh, Petey, this has nothing to do with that sweet child. Or that yummy, scrummy lady there.” He inclined his head toward Allie, who, to her credit, had moved to stand tall at Peter's side. “Although your mortal girlfriend is going to be a tasty treat. Then maybe I'll take care of that little girl, too.”

He licked his lips and gestured toward the mine opening.

“You son of a bitch!” Peter roared. “Leave them out of this. Step aside, Anton.”

Anton cast an eerie, feral smile at Allie. “Wouldn't you like to see the little girly girly?” He scratched at his head.

Allie's voice quivered. “Please let me go to her.”

He tapped his eyebrow again and giggled, a high-pitched, dry squeal. “Of course. But you have to get around me first.”

His hollow laugh bounced off the snowy hillside, the reverberation grating on Peter's nerves. Allie staggered forward a step, holding her head. When she looked up at Peter, the pain was etched on her fine features. To hell with his control. He would tear the minion's arms from his sockets and enjoy the pop of bone separating from sinew. To hell with Peter's life.

He hurled himself at the minion, flying across the open space. With a sickening crunch of bone impacting bone, they rolled to the ground, locked together. Peter's snowshoes broke and flew off. Maneuvering Anton away from the mine entrance, Peter punched him in the jaw repeatedly, snapping his head back. The minion spit out teeth.