Page 24 of Immortal Hunter
“The power of the bond will draw the darkness to us,” Vesper protested.
“Thisdarknessis already here. Within your very walls. You cannot see it? Sense it?”
Vesper closed her eyes, and a warm gust of air swirled through the room. After a moment, she swore softly. “You are right, vampire. And I…owe you an apology and all assistance I can provide. What is your plan?”
Chapter Twelve
Kára
Celia’s spell—evenwith Vesper adding her magic to it—could only protect Kára for so long, and by the time she and the two witches had reached Cape Broyle, a picturesque town southeast of St. John’s, her skin was smoldering, faint curls of smoke filling Vesper’s Audi.
“I am going to have to fumigate this vehicle when we are done,” Vesper grumbled.
Behind dark glasses, Kára narrowed her eyes at the witch. “Do youknowwhat it feels like to have your skin catch fire? Because of the two of us, I think I am much more pain than you are.”
Vesper didn’t respond, and Kára huddled lower in the plush leather seat. The hat and scarf she’d borrowed from Celia did little to protect her face, but at least the glasses helped her eyes from blistering.
The car coasted to a stop at a fork in the road, and Vesper arched a brow. “Which way, vampire?”
“Left.” The pull towards her mate kept her going, even as one of the blisters on her cheek split open. She hissed out a breath. The sun would set in less than five minutes. She could last that long. She would heal quickly if she were close to her mate, and then, none of this agony would matter.
Turn by turn, she directed Vesper, until the connection between her and Ewan was so strong, her heart threatened to burst out of her chest like some alien parasite. The sun dipped behind the horizon as she called out, “Stop! He is here. Less than a kilometer away. Can you scry?”
Vesper pulled the car over to the side of the road. After the three of them gathered around the trunk, she held out her hand. “I need something of his.”
Kára dug into her pocket and retrieved the pocket watch. “His father’s, originally.”
“That will do.” Placing the watch on the trunk lid, Vesper dangled a clear quartz crystal on a long chain over the gold time piece. She whispered to herself, and a breeze ruffled Kára’s blond locks. The scent of magic—salty and a bit sweet—surrounded them, and then the crystal stopped abruptly, pointing west with such strength, Vesper almost lost hold of the chain.
Kára was off and running before the two witches could say a word. Racing over a low hill, she skidded to a stop at the sight of an old, run-down stone farmhouse. Alongside the crumbling building was a storm cellar, the angled door well-weathered, but with shiny new hinges.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she ducked down behind a tree as she tapped the screen. “Hagen. Where is he?”
“I am sending you map coordinates now, daughter. You have sixty-seven minutes to reach me, or he dies. Painfully.”
“I need to speak to him first. Prove to me he is still alive.” She let her voice tremble, even though she knew very well Ewan still lived. She felt it.
“Say your goodbyes, human,” Hagen snapped.
Ewan cleared his throat. “Kára, ya’ ken I dinnae mean what I said…that I felt nothin’ for ya’.”
“I know, love. But—”
“Dinna fash. Dyin’…I’m not afraid of it anymore, lass. It’s notright—ya’ comin’. Stay away from me. I left ya’. I deserve this. And ya’ need to be free.”
“Ewan, I will come for you, mo chridhe.Hold on for me. Hold to our love.” Kára didn’t have to fake the tremble now. Hearing Ewan’s voice so weak and hoarse, his breathing strained, did something to her insides she’d never felt before. But his words made so little sense. Unless…he was trying to give her directions. Not right. Left.
“You are wrong, Ewan. It is I who left you. Please…forgive me.”
Vesper and Celia came up behind her as over the line, Hagen punched Ewan, and he coughed, wet and rattling.
“That is enough talking, daughter. Sixty-four minutes now. Do not be late.”
As the call ended, Kára clenched her fists, the phone shattering into a hundred pieces and slicing into her hands. It did not matter now. The wounds healed in seconds. Her fangs lengthened, and her vision sharpened. Ewan might be the Hunter, but her years of torture and training had sharpened her into a creature so lethal, she was unstoppable—except against Hagen. The man who had taught her everything she knew.
Except for one thing.
Hagen had never taught her to love.
