The Reluctant Amazon (Alliance of the Amazons) (13 page)

“Will you look at this?” Megan motioned for them to join her
and Sparks.

Artair put the book down and followed Rebecca over.

The list of Ancients covered almost the entire upper half of
the wall. Helen had tacked twine leading from one name to another in a sort of
chain. Best Rebecca could tell was that she was tying together gods and
goddesses that shared blood ties.

Every one of the chains eventually led to one place. But all
that remained of the common tie was a faded patch on the garish wallpaper where
something had once been pinned.

Whatever key Helen had discovered in her extensive research was
missing.

Before Rebecca could ask what Sparks thought might have been in
that spot, a window shattered, and a sing-song growl of a revenant echoed
through the empty room.

Sparks moved first, pulling a dagger from her boot and moving
to the window. Artair followed close behind.

About to move to flank them, Rebecca whirled to find another
revenant lumbering its way through the door. With a gasp, she jerked her weapon
free. Artair had made it clear that this wasn’t going to be a battle. If they
faced revenants, both she and Megan were supposed to put distance between them
and the enemy. But it was hard to get away when an obese female zombie the size
of a small barn blocked the escape route.

“Rebs?”

“Yeah, Megan?”

“You go high, I’ll go low.” Megan charged the revenant,
leveling a brutal kick to its knee.

The sound of bone cracking was followed by the revenant’s
shriek as it took a stumbling step back. Then it lowered its head, snarled and
surged forward.

Rebecca hesitated—a mistake since the zombie moved fast for
such a large dead person. It got to Megan and buried the fingers it still had
left in her hair, giving the red tresses a vicious yank.

Raising her dirk high, Rebecca charged. She’d stab the revenant
in the eye, a trick Sparks had taught her but she’d never been sure she could
do. But she’d try anything to help her sister.

Turned out she could, but the sickening sound the blade made as
it passed through the eyeball and into the bone would haunt her for a good long
while. Jerking the weapon back, she let it clatter to the floor.

The revenant dropped Megan, who twisted away and scrambled
across the dusty floor out of the zombie’s reach. Mouth wide open, the creature
grabbed Rebecca’s arm, preparing to take a bite.

Somehow, Sparks got between them. “Not my girl, you don’t!”

The zombie wrapped its beefy arms around Sparks and tried to
sink its rotting teeth into her shoulder.

“Oh, hell no.” Dropping to her knees, Sparks deftly escaped the
revenant’s grasp. Rolling to her side, she got to her feet and kicked her
attacker hard in the stomach. She gripped her dagger in both hands and thrust it
into the zombie’s heart.

The revenant shrieked and lumbered backward, clutching at the
weapon Sparks left in its chest.

Megan rose. “That’s it. This ends now.” Grabbing her .357 from
her holster, she hurried back to the zombie, put the muzzle under its chin and
pulled the trigger.

Brain matter splattered the ceiling, raining down on the
Amazons.

“Pull my hair, you rotting bitch, and that’s what happens.”
Megan swiped her sleeve across her dirty forehead.

Rebecca closed her eyes, trying to ignore the feel of the cold
slime that now decorated her face and hands. Then remembering the second
revenant, she glanced over to Artair.

He said something in Gaelic, leaned out the broken window and
spit. Then he strode back to the women, took one look at the dead-again zombie
and chuckled. “A gun that size might just come in handy after all, Megan.”

“What happened to your revenant?” Megan asked, wiping more of
the macabre splatter from her face.

Rebecca swallowed the sour bile rising in her throat, wishing
Freya would pop them right back to Avalon—specifically to the shower room.

“Dispatched,” he said without elaboration.

“Everyone in one piece?” Sparks asked, checking both new
Amazons over from head to toe. “Damn, but you’re both covered in revenant
brains.”

Rebecca groaned and tried to shake off the tissue that clung to
her hands.

“We should go,” Artair said. “There’s nothing else to do here.”
He pulled a handkerchief and held it out to Rebecca.

Megan grabbed it and started wiping her cheek. “Thanks,
Artie.”

“Freya!” Sparks shouted. “We’re ready to head home.”

Chapter Twelve

Rebecca walked into her cabin, sweaty from her run, to
find Megan sitting at the computer, torturing the new Sentinel again.

Fire glanced over her shoulder, giving her an enormous smile.
Megan’s enjoyment washed over Rebecca, infecting her with the desire to make
more mischief for the poor guy. “Hiya, sis.”

Rebecca chuckled. “Back atcha.” She nodded at the computer
monitor. “Tell Johann that ‘Megan’ sends her best wishes.”

“Did you hear that, Joeman?” Megan said into the microphone.
“Megan said ‘hi.’”

“You’re driving me insane, Rebecca,” Johann grumbled. “You’re
not at all like the goddesses describe you. More Fire than Earth.”

“Maybe you’re a bad judge of character. Maybe you just bring
out the worst in me, Joeman.”

“Johann. How many times do I have to tell you? My name is
Johann.
”

“Whatever. What do you want now? We’re busy Amazons. No time
for chit-chat.”

The man growled in response, sounding as if he’d been taking
lessons from Artair. “I should switch to Megan’s computer. At least she follows
her Sentinel’s instructions.”

“Like I keep telling you,” Megan scolded, “Artie’s our
Sentinel.” She glanced back to Rebecca who gave a curt nod in reply. “What do
you want, Joeman? We’ve got training.”

“The implants should be there by now. Artair or the changelings
need to get them injected so we can calibrate the settings,” Johann replied, not
rising to the bait.

Rebecca felt Megan’s disappointment. They would eventually have
to straighten out the mistaken identity, but she was as angry as Megan that
Artair was being replaced. He’d never come out and told them why, and all she
could guess was that Rhiannon had other plans for him—plans Rebecca didn’t want
to think about. Plans that took him away from the Amazons.

From her.

Patting Megan on the shoulder to give tacit permission for
their charade to go on, she left Fire to her conversation and sat on her
bed.

After jerking her damp shirt over her head, she reached for the
chocolate Kisses waiting on her pillow. Beagan and Dolan weren’t nearly as
bashful as they had been when she’d first arrived at Avalon. She found them in
her cabin from time to time, and they seemed to have conquered their shyness.
They no longer scurried away whenever they saw her. She also found out they had
a penchant for chocolate-chip cookies. As a result, the proper ingredients
turned up whenever she found time to slip into the kitchen, and the cookies
always disappeared from the plate like any left out for Santa Claus on Christmas
Eve.

She picked up a Kiss, unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth.
Savoring the candy like fine wine, she hummed her approval.

The chair squeaked as Megan leaned back and crossed her arms
over her chest. “You can just forget it, Joeman.”

“Forget what?” Rebecca rolled the foil wrapper into a small
ball.

“Techno-geek here wants to inject us with some kind of
doohickey. I don’t want any of his stupid gadgets floating around in me.”

“It’s not a stupid gadget. It’s a microchip,” the face in the
monitor insisted. “A small tracking device.”

Megan scoffed. “What are we? Endangered pumas? You’re not
banding Fire’s leg next time she turns into a hawk.”

“Why do we need them?” Rebecca asked, picking up a clean shirt
from the bed and donning it before she stepped behind Megan. “I want a good
reason for us to become your guinea pigs.”

Johann would surely attribute her temerity to her being Fire.
“Because I want to be able to find you at all times,” he answered. “I’m going to
bring all my equipment when we get out there next week. I’ll get things
calibrated better then, but—I just think it’s best if we get the implants in
now.”

“You know something,” Rebecca said. “There’s
something
you’re not telling us.”

The new Sentinel’s face flushed.

“You better never play poker with me, Johann,” Rebecca
scolded.

“Why?”

“Because I can read your face like a damn book and I’ll take
every single dollar you bring to the table. Out with it.”

Johann took a long moment before he spoke. “The goddesses
are…concerned. They want to ratchet up our technology because whoever we’re
facing has already—” His lips drew to a thin line. “They hacked my system. They
got some information about all of you before I could shut them out. Mostly about
you, Rebecca.” The embarrassment was clear—so obvious on his face, she figured
he should put on a dunce cap and be done with it.

“What kind of information about me?” Megan asked, assuming her
ruse once again.

“Medical records and personal data mostly, but not much else. I
blocked them as soon as I got the alert they snuck in.”

Megan narrowed her eyes. “How in the hell did you get our
medical records?”

“The goddesses have me keep all sorts of information about the
Amazons. They only hacked Rebecca’s, though.”

“Oh, well,” she scoffed, “doesn’t that give me
tons
of confidence in having you put a fucking piece
of technology under my skin?”

“I screwed up. Okay?” His face flushed a deeper shade of
crimson all the way to his ears. “I underestimated the enemy. We thought—no,
I
thought—I had them hands down in technology.
But they’ve got some heavy-duty help if they cracked my network. Trust me. I
won’t make that mistake again.”

Rebecca patted Megan’s shoulder, wondering if she was making
the same connection. Her nod answered the unasked question.

“I had the same problem with thinking we were facing something
easy,” Rebecca said, still pretending to be Fire. “First revenant attack, I
tried to shoot one of them.” She shrugged. “Didn’t know a bullet wouldn’t drop
one.”

Megan chuckled. “And I tried to bring one down with a pool cue
across the back. All right, Joeman. We understand. We’ll get those things stuck
in us.”

“Things?” Artair asked, his silent entrance causing both
Amazons to jump. “What silly things?”

Johann answered. “The tracking devices. Did you get them,
MacKay?”

“Aye.” Artair strode over to push Megan’s chair out of his way.
He scowled at the fledgling Sentinel. “But I don’t trust them. ’Tis not natural.
The lasses always know how to find each other. They don’t need some piece of
metal jammed under their hides.”

Johann threw an equally intimidating scowl that made Rebecca
think that the man might just be Sentinel material after all.

But he wasn’t Artair.

“Two Amazons are still missing, MacKay. Sparks can’t find
Trishna or Helen.” Johann’s words came as a chilling reminder. The thought hung
in the air, clearly affecting everyone.

“Aye,” Artair said with a nod. “We shall try your way. ’Tis
right to change with the times. Our enemies have adapted, so must we. Some of us
are just having more trouble doing so than others.”

Johann’s reply came as a conciliatory surprise. “But the old
ways have value too. Guns. Tasers. They’ve got no effect on revenants, and it
takes a blessed arrow to drop a demig. I was hoping you’d help me improve my
sword skills. I want to be able to lop one of their damned heads off with one
swing. My sword keeps getting stuck in their necks.”

Artair nodded. He stepped away from the computer and put a hand
on Rebecca’s shoulder. “Lass, did you still wish to practice with your bow
again?”

“Oh, yes. Please.” Rebecca hurried to grab her favorite weapon
from where it leaned with a quiver of arrows against the wall and followed him
out of the cabin, leaving Megan to tease the new Sentinel in peace and
quiet.

* * *

He was too close for her to breathe.

Artair’s arms held her back pressed hard against his chest. His
masculine, woodsy scent filled her nostrils, making her heart tap out a frantic
rhythm. Rebecca tried to keep her mind on the target wired to a large bale of
straw, but the arrows littering the ground and sticking out of the bale at odd
angles proved she wasn’t succeeding.

“Concentrate,” Artair said in that rich voice that always
rolled through her like a surge of comfort. “Ye can do this, Becca mine.” The
endearment sent an excited shiver up her spine. “Again.” That word echoed in her
dreams.

“I’m trying. I’m just not very good at this.” She wasn’t
talented at anything except causing random earthquakes and bringing vines out of
the ground to confound her sparring partner from time to time. What good was it
to be able to sense when other people had stood on a patch of grass or dirt?
She’d hoped she could master the bow—especially the bow because of Amazon
history.

“’Tis an Amazon’s greatest weapon. A demig or rogue Ancient can
only be felled by a goddess-blessed arrow.”

“I know, I know. You’ve told me a thousand times. I just can’t
seem to get the hang of it.” A frustrated sigh slipped from her lips.

“Again.” Artair pulled her a little closer. She could feel his
muscles tense and heard his sharp intake of breath.

The attraction remained too strong for either to deny, but she
reminded herself nothing could ever come from it. Rhiannon had forbidden it,
threatening to take Artair away sooner should she hear of them fraternizing. The
goddess would probably have a hissy fit seeing Rebecca in his arms even though
he was helping her learn.

“Close your eyes, lass.”

“What?” She tried to glance over her shoulder, but Artair
dropped his chin on top of her head, holding her still.

“Close your eyes.”

She looked at the target. “How can I aim with my eyes
closed?”

“You’ve been trying to shoot with yer eyes, nae your
heart.”

“Oh, come on. You’re pulling my leg, right?”

“Do you trust me?” His whispered words fell warm on her
ear.

She didn’t even have to think about her answer. “With my
life.”

“Then close your eyes.”

Rebecca obeyed.

* * *

Artair smiled at her acquiescence. Damn, how she pleased
him. He didn’t really need to hold her so close simply to show her how to aim.
He’d already taught her the mechanics—the intimate instruction was unnecessary.
Chiding himself for his unquenchable need to have her near, to keep her in his
arms, he tried to turn his thoughts back to his job.

But she still smelled like lilacs. Her skin was hot from the
late-afternoon sun. He could almost hear the beat of her heart, and surely she
felt the rough rhythm of his own against her back.

“Artair? My eyes are closed. Now what?”

“Picture the target. Can you see it in your mind?”

She nodded, bumping his chin.

Artair helped her ease back the taut shooting string, and then
he found the strength to step away from her. “Open your eyes and shoot.”

The arrow whizzed toward the target, piercing the center.

Lowering the bow, Rebecca smiled. “I did it. I really did
it.”

“Aye, you did. Now do it again.”

Rebecca hit the target four more times, clustering the arrows
in the center until their fletchings fanned out like the tail feathers of a
bird.

“Again.”

“Is that your favorite word?” Rebecca reached over her shoulder
to her quiver. Her hand came back empty. “Sorry. Out of arrows.”

“Then fetch the ones from the target.” Pointing to the arrows
protruding from the grass, he added, “Or perhaps you can pick up the dozen that
are on the ground.” He chuckled at the scowl she threw his way. Still, she
headed toward the target, doing as he asked.

Artair turned to the changeling who had hopped to the
Sentinel’s feet and shifted from the small, brown rabbit to his more customary
state. “You have a message, Beagan?”

Beagan nodded. “The goddesses wish to speak to you and your
charges.”

Artair didn’t want to frighten his friend. He reined in his
unease. “When?”

“A few moments from now in the courtyard.”

“Did they tell you why?”

Beagan shook his head and shifted to a rabbit again before
Rebecca turned around with her hand full of arrows. She dropped them in the
quiver as she returned to his side.

“Again.”

She laughed, the melody ringing in the air like a song. “Now,
how did I know you were going to say that?” Reaching over her shoulder, she
wrapped her fingers around an arrow.

He saw her mistake too late. One arrow had been returned to the
quiver upside-down. Her fingers closed around the arrow’s razor-sharp head.

She cried out, jerking her hand back. Small drops of blood fell
from one of her slender fingers.

Artair reached for her hand and cradled it in his as he pulled
the linen square from his pouch. Gently wrapping the cloth around her injured
finger, he gave her a frown. “’Twould seem your Sentinel failed to teach you to
take proper care with your weapon. The tips are razors, lass.”

“Aye,” she drawled, imitating his brogue the same way Sparks
always did. Her grin warmed his heart. “’Tis a shame you didnae do a verra good
job.” Those smiling brown eyes reached straight to his soul.

He held her injured hand to his chest, then tugged her closer.
He could time the beat of her heart simply by watching the delicate pulse along
her slender neck. Fighting the desire to press his lips against that vein, he
took a few steadying breaths. They didn’t help.

He kissed her forehead, even though he wanted more. “The
goddesses are waiting for us. We must go to them.”

Rebecca nodded, took the handkerchief from his fingers and
stepped out of his arms.

* * *

“You’re certain?” Artair asked Ix Chel.

This was the first time Rebecca had seen the Air goddess, and
she was trying hard not to stare disrespectfully. But Ix Chel was so beautiful,
she demanded attention. Long, ebony hair, so black it shone blue. Brilliant
brown eyes. She was dressed in a flowing shirt and skirt reminiscent of the
style Mexican women wore to a fiesta, and her clothing was embroidered with what
was probably real gold and silver threads and studded with jewels in a
kaleidoscope of colors. Rebecca couldn’t help but compare the goddess to how
Cher appeared during her heyday.