Part 7 (1/2)
But he'd lied to me. And that meant I couldn't trust him.
I came to a stop in the meadow, looking left and right and ahead of me at the forest and mountains beyond. And then my eyes met those of the mare. Buff and huge, she shook her s.h.a.ggy cream-colored mane at me. Ethan hadn't yet put the horses inside for the night.
”Please,” I whispered. ”Help me?”
I know it makes no sense to believe that the animal heard me, much less understood my words and the emotion behind them. But she responded. She eagerly trotted right up to me. I gripped a handful of her mane and launched myself onto her back, swung a leg over, clutched my fur trimmed cloak around me and held on. I kicked her sides lightly, and she responded as if reading my mind, twirling fully around and then exploding into a gallop even as Ethan came running toward us, shouting at me to wait.
I didn't wait.
The mare didn't, either. She never even slowed her pace as she approached the pristine white fence. If anything, she ran faster, stretching her long neck, giant hooves pounding the ground beneath us. And then we were airborne, sailing over the fence as if the big draft mare had sprouted wings. As if she were Pegasus. I held on, leaned forward, braced for the landing, and then we kept right on going.
He couldn't believe she'd fled like that. Obviously, she'd seen the car, overheard at least some of his conversation with the stranger. G.o.d, if she had no memory, what the h.e.l.l had her so afraid? Or maybe that was just it. She didn't know who she was, who she could trust, or who was after her. But she knew someone was..
And she knew something else, too. She knew that he had been with her at The Farm, and that he had escaped and left her behind. He should have told her, but his guilt had suffocated his ability to do so. But there was no point in keeping the truth from her any longer.
He hesitated only briefly, because something caught in his chest at the sight of her. She'd wrapped the fur lined blanket from his sofa around her head and shoulders, but it had blown back, and her hair flew behind her as Scylla ran full out. Lilith's body moved with the mare's, instinctively, as if they were one being. And then they leapt, like a pair of G.o.ddesses, and were gone.
Her thrall over him broken, he shook himself and whistled for Charybdis. The stallion trotted to him, and Ethan gripped his halter and led him back into the stable for a saddle, blanket and bridle. He added extrablankets to a pack, and took time to fill a Thermos from the house, because G.o.d only knew what kind of a chase she would lead him. And if the woman in the car had been telling the truth h.e.l.l, it might be a while before either of them could return.
His home, his haven, was no longer a safe place. And yet, he had no desire to return to it without her.
For so long, he'd believed he would never see her again. To have her show up here, of all places, even without her memoryit had to be fate. It had to be.
With the saddlebags packed, he rode out after her, knowing he would catch up. It was inevitable. She'd been led to him. He was meant to be with her, to help her survive, if he could. And though he felt the weight of the odds against them like leaden blocks on his shoulders, he knew he had to try.
For both their sakes.
He scanned for her with his senses, tried to pick up her essence on the night's very breath. He hadn't taught her to block her thoughts or to s.h.i.+eld her presence from another of their kind. h.e.l.l, he hadn't taught her anything yet. She couldn't possibly survive on her own, even without the dark forces hunting her down.
That thought skidded to a halt in his brain as he asked himself just who he was kidding? He'd made it on his own since leaving the compound. She was ten times as strong, as resilient, as clever.
He and Charybdis picked their way over trails and around pines, deeper and deeper into the woods.
There was no point in driving the stallion into a full gallop. They were huge horses, bred for working, for battle, not for racing. Scylla would tire before long and slow to a walk herself. He would catch up.
Before very long at all, he did. All at once, Ethan felt her. He felt her essence wrapping around him and drawing him in like a Siren's call. He didn't speed up. He didn't call out to her mentally. He blocked his essence and thoughts so she wouldn't feel him coming, and he kept Charybdis to his slow, steady gait as they moved, patiently, ever closer.
For the better part of two hours, he rode, and then, finally, he saw Scylla a dozen yards ahead, among the trees. She was riderless and leaning down, stretching her long neck to sip cool water from a bubbling stream.
He scanned the area around her, and in moments he spotted Lilith. She was seated on a flat rock, staring contemplatively at the rus.h.i.+ng water, deep in thought, waiting for the horse to drink, compa.s.sionate and wise enough, he thought, to know Scylla needed a rest.
He smoothed a hand over Charybdis's warm neck and patted him gently. Then he eased down to the ground and walked silently to where Lilith sat.
”You didn't need to”
She sprang to her feet and spun all in one fluid motion, one leg rising and sweeping his own legs out from under him before he finished the sentence. He hit the ground hard, and the impact knocked him nearly senseless. Shaking himself, he blinked his vision back into focus, holding up one hand in defense. She stood over him, fists clenched, ready to pummel him if he tried to get back up.
”It's only me.” Her eyes boiled with agitation and fear, and the flight or fightor, perhaps more accurately, just plain fight-reaction held her rigid. But then recognition eased the fear from her eyes. She relaxed her stance and stood just watching him, still wary, cautious. The mistrust in her expression and in her aura made his stomach ache.
”You didn't have to run.”
”That woman was looking for me.”
”Yes, but I meant you didn't have to run from me.”
”She had a photo of me. I saw it.”
”I know. But I don't think she was DPI.”
”What's DPI?”
He licked his lips. ”It's it's some kind of government agency. They operate the place I'm pretty sure you ran away from.” The lie came automatically, before he could remind himself that she already knew the truth.
She lifted her brows. ”You're pretty sure? You know d.a.m.n well where I ran from, Ethan, since you ran away before me.”
He hesitated, looked away. ”You do remember,” he whispered.
”I barely remember a thing. But I remember me, Ethan. I remember who I amand how I am. And I remember you. The rest, you're going to tell me. All of it, Ethan.”
He nodded. ”Can I get up without you kicking my a.s.s again?”
She glared at him for a moment longer, then sighed and nodded. ”I didn't even know I could do that. It was automatic. As if I've had training.”
He got to his feet, brushed off his jeans, said nothing.
”I have, haven't I?” she asked.
Lifting his gaze slowly, he met her eyes. Green fire danced in them, reminding him that he'd decided to tell her the truth. Also reminding him that she wouldn't accept anything less. ”Yes, you've had training. In martial arts, in weapons, in hand to hand combat. We both have. It was part of the program at the place where we were raised.”
”The Farm, right? What is it, Ethan?”
He took hold of her forearm, intending to lead her back to that flat stone so they could both sit down.
But she jerked away as soon as he touched her, and that stung. ”The Farm is well, it's sort of like an orphanage and a military school all rolled into one.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, possibly so he wouldn't touch her again. ”Why would people who run an orphanage want to chase after the orphans who leave?” ”We're not ordinary orphans, Lilith. We were born with a very rare antigen in our blood, called Belladonna. And it makes us special. It makes usthe only humans who can become vampires. And you and I, and the other Chosen at The Farm, we're members of a very special bloodline. That's what they call us thereBloodliners.”
She frowned. ”I remember there being a lot of us there. How is it so many of us become orphans?”
”I'm not so sure we do. It's just as likely we're taken, kidnapped, our families murdered. I do know that we're never supposed to leave, at least not on our own. We're prisoners. We're expected to grow up there, get our training there, become utterly devoted, unquestionably loyal there, and then, when we reach adulthood, they turn us into vampires and we work for them.”
”Doing what?” she asked.
”I don't know. I do know that when someone runs away, vampire a.s.sa.s.sins, graduates of The Farm, are sent to hunt them down and kill them. So that would be one job.”
She frowned. ”How many how many vampires do you suppose have been made there?”
”I don't know.”
”Why not?” she said. Her tone was impatient. ”You have your memory. You grew up there. So how many children, older than you, were there and then weren't there anymore?”