Part 24 (1/2)
But Druid stood like a statue, growling steadily, no doubt apparent in his hot glare out over the field. Masera thumbed the flashlight on, swept it over the field, though at that distance, the beam dissipated too much to show anything buta”
Eyes.
Off to the right, on this side of the creek. Eyes reflecting back at them, green, winking in and out with the movement of the attached animal, never steady enough to get a feel for just how many there were.
”Oh, man,” Brenna said softly. ”Oh, man.”
”Stay inside the circle,” Masera said, his voice just as low. The grim quality in his words made her wish she was anywhere else but here, inside the circle. Two giant targets inside a bullseye and one small, quickly moving targeta”for Druid had stopped growling, had skipped back a few stepsa”and when she went for his leash he bolted, kicking off his run with a sudden yip of fear and clawing up sod with the vigor of his retreat. She lunged after him, but spun abruptly around with the implacable force of Masera's hand grabbing her arm. ”Stay in the circle,” he said. ”You can't catch a dog that doesn't want to be caught.”
”I know, dammit, buta”” She stopped just before her voice cracked with frustration, jerking free of his grasp and turning away, reeling inside with the sudden change of atmospherea”although she could still feel the pulse of the earth against her feet, and wondered if Masera could, too. A faster beat, a stronger tingle, a feel of urgency and danger. She didn't know if it was a warning or merely a reflection of her own turmoil. ”If only we could see,” she muttered, taking a long step to the center of the circle, where she'd left the rifle. Still loaded. Still armed.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steeling herself to turn around.
That's when she heard Masera's quick intake of breath, and she whirled around, opening her eyes toa”
Light.
Soft, silver-colored light, was.h.i.+ng out over the hill, growing to reach across the creek, trickling out over the pasture below. Baffled, she turned a circle, hunting the source.
She didn't have to look far.
The oak looming over the spring, barely leafed out in that slow, taking-things-on-its-own-schedule way that oaks had. A perfectly normal oak.
Glowing moon-silver, growing steadily in strength.
Illuminating the field of battle.
She let her own breath hiss through her teeth and exchanged a quick, wide-eyed glance with Masera. ”You know what?” she said. ”We're not in Kansas anymore.”
”No, Dorothy, we're not.” He looked out over the pasture. ”Let's just hope Toto is safe at home.” And he nodded, taking her attention back to the field.
Of course it was Parker. Parker, striding toward them with all the a.s.surance back in his walk and a pack of pit bulls spread out around him. He'd bypa.s.sed the creek at the road bridge along the house frontage, probably cut through her fence as soon as he was across it. Seven dogs, she thoughta”no, eight. Eight, when one would have done the job. One powerfully jawed dog, trained to kill.
She had wondered if she could kill a dog. She suddenly knew the answer.
Parker himself carried a bat.
”A bat?” she murmured out loud, moving close to Masera again. ”He knows I have the rifle.”
”Think like the darkness,” Masera murmured back; she could barely hear him for the thrum of pulsesa”earth pulses, her own racing hearta”in her ear. ”It wants the experience close and personal. It wants to crush and maim and feel the results.”
”And how rea.s.suring you are,” she muttered. She gestured with the rifle. ”This is what we've got. Do you want it?”
He shook his head without taking his eyes from Parkera”halfway across the pasture now. ”As much as I'd like to leave you free to . . . communicate . . . with Nuadha, I have no doubt which of us can handle the shooting best. But there shouldn't be any. Don't start anything. Just stay in the circlea””
”No kidding,” she said. ”But just what makes you so sure they can't get to us here?”
”It's stronger than it was before. He couldn't reach you then.”
”That's just the point,” she said. ”He couldn't reach me. He was stuck on the other side of the creek. It was the darkness that got repelled by the circle. I have no idea whether Parker himself will care the least about our silver marching men.”
His response was silence, while Parker grew close enough so the glow of light painted his gold hair silver, sparking off it like bright suns.h.i.+ne. Then he swore a low curse, accepting her argument . . . but not, Brenna was glad to hear, with the G.o.ddamit against which she'd cautioned him.
”Yeah,” she said. ”So I'd rathera”Iban, if they get any closer and they start running, I won't get them all in time. I'm not used to a moving target.”
He nodded. ”Start something, then.”
Brenna raised the rifle to her shoulder, finding the old ball and notch sight, settling it on a broad white chest. ”I'm sorry,” she whispered, following the approach of that chest, s.h.i.+fting the ball just to the left of the notch to account for the quirky sight . . . she held her breath and gently squeezed the trigger.
Never a loud weapon, the rifle shot seemed somehow muted by the pounding of the earth, the subtle pulsing of the oak's glow. And the dog didn't flinch. Didn't hesitate. Still sighting in, Brenna quickly pumped in a new sh.e.l.l and took the shot again.
Nothing.
”Buck fever?” Masera asked, suspicion in his voice. Not suspicion aimed at her, as he looked out over the field to Parker's big grin.
”No,” Brenna said miserably. ”He's protecting them, somehow.”
”Don't waste the bullets, then.”
”I can't just sit here and wait.” On an impulse, she spun away from the edge of the circle, took the rifle back to the center, right next to the spring, and thrust it flat against the ground. ”Please,” she said to the spring. ”We've got to fight the darkness.” She jammed her hand into her pocket, fis.h.i.+ng out the fresh sh.e.l.ls, and scattered them in the ooze of the springa”a crazier thing she'd probably never done. Wet ammo. But they weren't any use to her as they were . . .
She jacked the old sh.e.l.ls out of the gun, scooped up the wet ones, and pulled the rod out for a hasty reload. ”Here goes,” she said, and gave the firing chamber a quick kiss of a blessing.
When she returned to Masera's side, Parker was just below them. Waiting. For her, evidently, considering the way his congenially self-pleased expression darkened as she took up a shooting stance.
”You were in on this together,” he said. ”I should have known. It explains a number of things.”
”We're together now,” Masera said. ”No doubt there are others who have their sights on you.”
”Apt way of putting it.” Parker tipped the bat at Brenna and the rifle. ”Except surely you've figured out that won't do you any good.”
”Let's pretend I'm slow,” Brenna suggested. ”Slow enough so I'm going to give you the chance to turn around and walk away.”
Parker laughed out loud. ”Not much chance of that at all.”
”This isn't really you, Parker. This is whatever you raised here four years ago. Following it got your friends killed, and it'll kill you, too.” But he'd hear the desperation in her voice. Could he also hear the hurried thrum of the earth, that reflection of her fear? But the rifle, half-raised, remained steady. Masera, at her side, remained steady. She realized that he held one of the silver knives, a dull but slightly serrated knife that could do plenty of damage with enough strength behind it.
”I understand more than they did,” Parker told her. ”I listened better. And I'm not going anywhere.” He scowled, tapped the bat against the ground at his feet. ”You think I couldn't feel what you're up to? I can't allow that.” He hit the ground again, harder this time, and looked at Masera. ”Not that I'd let you live, anyway, after the raids tonight. Mickey's already dead, did you know it? Nothing less than what he deserved, for bringing you into my life.”
”The darkness,” Masera observed wryly to Brenna, ”seems to be somewhat egocentric.”
It probably shouldn't have struck her as funny, not at that moment. But she couldn't quite m.u.f.fle her laugh of response, and Parker jerked his head back, eyes narrowed, stung and angered.
Brenna reacted instantly to his expression, seeing in it the imminence of action. She lifted the rifle and squeezed the trigger, and the pit bull next to Parkera”huge of chest, huge of head and jaw, powerful in every hard-trained musclea”gave a childlike cry and collapsed where it stood. Heart-shot.
The tree flared with light, and the world turned suddenly slow around her, even as everything happened at oncea”the dogs, Parker, the bat, Maseraa”all in motion. She targeted a second dog, missing the killing shot but stunning it into aimless wandering, nothing more than a dog in shock. By then the rest of them were moving, surging up the hill with Parker in their midst, and Brenna deliberately side-walked away from Masera even while sighting in a third doga”grazing its flank, pumping in a new sh.e.l.l, taking it down. ”Over here!” she yelled at them, thinking only that she had the weapon and that she couldn't allow even one of them to close its jaws on Masera. Rabies. Parker's finest tools, these dogs, Parker and the darkness. Rabies. She whooped at them, an aggravating incitement. Prey noises. ”C'mon, dogs! Over here!” She took another shot, took another dog down, astonished at her efficiency, her smooth reactions, the way the tingling power of the earth had turned to energy and strength in her body.