Defeat the Darkness (19 page)

Hunter's face was contorted with such intense hatred that she barely recognized him. He was as out of control as he'd been the other night when he'd rushed out of the restaurant, but multiplied by a factor of ten or even a thousand. Inhuman growls came out of his mouth as he cursed and did his damnedest to choke the life out of his opponent.

D.J. and one of his companions finally succeeded in yanking Hunter off their friend. The two of them tossed him to the floor and then sat on him to keep him down. The fourth member of the group helped the injured man to a chair on the far side of the room.

“Damn it, Hunter, stop it before you hurt yourself !” D.J. threw his full weight across Hunter's chest. “For God's sake, you're scaring Tate!”

That last part must have gotten through to Hunter, because he suddenly collapsed back against the floor, his arms and legs limp. Slowly D.J. lifted up, allowing Hunter more room to breathe, but remaining in position in case he attacked again.

Hunter glared up at D.J. with wild eyes. “Let me at the bastards, D.J. Now.”

Tate shivered at the venom dripping from each word he uttered. It was as if she was looking at a total stranger, not at all the man who'd carried Mabel to the car with such gentleness and care.

“Damn it, Hunter, I can't do that, and you know it.”

“Get the hell off me, D.J., or I'll kill you, too!”

D.J. immediately flattened himself back down, knocking the breath out of Hunter in a loud
whoosh.
He glanced back over his shoulder.

“Tate, you might want to leave for a few minutes. This might get ugly.” Then D.J. glanced at the man that Hunter had attacked. “Stand back. Lonzo and I will drag this crazy bastard outside and pound some sense into him.”

Horrified by the threat, Tate gasped, “D.J.! You wouldn't!”

“Sorry, this is no time for delicate sensibilities, Tate. Please leave and take my friends with you. When this idiot comes to his senses, he won't like knowing you were here to watch.”

H
unter's world narrowed, until all he could feel was a craving to kill, even if it meant taking D.J. out to get to those pale-eyed freaks. Those bastards weren't going to get their hands on him, not this time, playing their vicious games, slicing and dicing him until the floors and walls ran red.

“Damn it, Hunter, quit!”

Hunter shifted his focus back to his enemies and feinted to the right and then back left, sneaking past D.J. to grab the closest Other by the neck. The fucker's skin was warm, his pulse throbbing under Hunter's hands as he squeezed, slowly choking off his victim's air supply. Oh, yeah, this was sweet; he reveled in the chance for some payback.

The other Paladin joined D.J.'s efforts to pry Hunter loose. He kicked out to the side, trying to hold them off. He wouldn't let them win, not this time, especially with
his own kind siding with his enemies. Where the hell was his sword?

Desperate to do the most damage he could before they overwhelmed him, Hunter tightened his grip. But his prize was ripped from his grasp, sending Hunter falling backward to the floor with two Paladins doing their best to keep him from bucking them off of him.

He screamed out his frustration. He had to kill. How would he ever heal if he didn't? That was his job—to kill Others, to make them pay for raping his world, raping his mind, and ripping apart his soul. He'd tear out the bastards' hearts with his bare hands and regain his honor.

Hunter whipped his head back and forth as he spewed out his hatred and his fury. Then he spotted her. Tate. Oh, God, Tate. Save her. The monsters had her; they were leading her away! His stamina was fading, but the sight of the woman—his woman—with his enemy recharged him. With a sudden burst of energy, he dislodged D.J.

But before he could kick his legs free of the second Paladin and charge to Tate's rescue, D.J. snarled, “Damn it, Hunter, I didn't want to do this.”

Then D.J. clocked Hunter in the side of his head. Once. Twice. Finally, in a burst of bone-jarring pain, all Hunter's anger disappeared under a cold blanket of darkness.

Tate's stomach roiled from watching Hunter's explosion of violence. What had set him off? It clearly wasn't D.J.
or the one called Lonzo who had him foaming at the mouth with the need to fight or kill.

That left the two men D.J. had told her to get out of the way. But considering Hunter's reaction to them, would she be safe alone with them? Before she could decide the answer to that, they were standing beside her. The fact that both of them towered over her made her even more skittish.

“I'm sorry, Ms. Justice. You have no reason to trust either of us, but I do think it is best that we leave the room. Your friend Hunter will calm down when he can no longer sense our presence.”

She couldn't place the man's accent even though it sounded vaguely familiar, but his quiet dignity and sympathetic tone helped convince her that leaving was best. How odd that both men had dark hair shot with gray when their faces placed them in their early thirties. Were they related? But now wasn't the time for idle questions.

She started out of the room. “Come this way.”

Once they were in the kitchen, she motioned the two of them toward seats at the table. The second man had yet to say a word, not a surprise considering the bruising on his throat. She pulled a large bag of peas out of the freezer.

“Here, maybe this will help.”

“Thank you for your kindness.” He tried to smile but winced in pain. The rough gravel in his voice sounded worse than Hunter's usually did.

The silence from the shop seemed ominous. She needed something to do to keep busy. Tea. Without even
asking if they'd like some, she filled her favorite teapot with hot water and added loose tea leaves, choosing a combination designed to soothe the throat. Her hands were shaking, and the cups rattled in their saucers as she carried them to the table.

The bells over the shop door rang out, their sound jangling her already rattled nerves. Where were they taking Hunter? She started to charge out after them, but before she'd gone two steps, her way was blocked.

“Please, Ms. Justice. You can trust D.J. and Lonzo to help Hunter regain control. They have a great deal of experience in such matters.”

“But he's hurting.” Her eyes stung with tears.

“That he is, and with good reason. But as D.J. said, when Hunter can think clearly, he will not appreciate an audience, especially you.”

Although he made no move to touch her, Tate suspected he would if that's what it took to prevent her from leaving the kitchen.

“Fine. I'll wait. But if they hurt him, I will call the police and press charges, even if he won't. Is that clear?” She had to tilt her head back at a painful angle to look him in the eye.

He surprised her when he smiled. “I have great admiration for a woman fierce enough to defend her man. I am blessed to have such a lady in my own life.”

Hunter wasn't her man. Not really. But she couldn't deny that her first instinct was to lash out at these four men for hurting him.

“What's her name?” she asked on her way back to the
counter to pour the tea, not that his answer mattered. It just gave her something to concentrate on.

“Lacey Sebastian. I am Barak q'Young, by the way, and my silent friend here is called Larem q'Jones.”

Such odd names. Barak sat back down at the table, staying between her and the shop. He apparently took his guard duty seriously.

“This tea is blended to soothe sore throats. I don't know if it will help you or not, but I like the flavor even when I'm not sick,” she said as she handed Larem a cup.

“Thank you.” Larem winced when he spoke, but he sighed with relief when he sipped the tea. “This feels quite good.”

Barak agreed. “If circumstances allow for it, I would love to explore your selection of teas. I do drink coffee, but I have found I prefer tea. Have you owned this business long?”

She allowed herself to be distracted. “My uncle opened the shop almost thirty years ago. I spent a lot of time with him as I was growing up. I always liked to experiment with different blends of herbs and spices.”

She noticed that Larem had set the peas back down on the table. “Do you need another bag? I can get you some more if that one's already thawed.”

“No, I am fine.” His voice was much clearer.

Odd. She had thought his neck was badly bruised, but the faint streaks of purple had already faded to red. Before she could comment, Lonzo appeared in the doorway. He looked at the two men first.

“Larem, are you all right?”

“Yes, I'm fine.”

Lonzo turned his attention toward Tate. “How about you? I'm figuring we scared you a bit.”

No use in denying that. “All I want to know is if Hunter is okay.”

Lonzo nodded and smiled at her. “More or less.” Then he gave Barak a pointed look. “He's got himself back under control for the moment. D.J. said for you two to come back into the shop so he can introduce you.”

Larem knocked back the rest of his tea and nodded his thanks to Tate. Barak did the same, bowing slightly before following his friend back to the shop.

Lonzo hung back. “Give us a minute or two to settle a few things, and I'll come back for you. We don't want to overwhelm him again.”

That did it. She was willing to cooperate up to a point, but this was her home, her shop. And Hunter was her friend; she wasn't sure these guys could make the same claim.

“I wasn't the one who set him off this time.”

“This time?” Lonzo frowned. “He's done this before?”

She shouldn't have let that slip. If Hunter wanted them to know he was having problems, it certainly wasn't her place to be telling them. Rather than elaborate, she asked a few questions of her own.

“Who are you, anyway? What are you to Hunter? And why did Larem and Barak upset him like that?”

“All good questions, Ms. Justice, but Hunter will have to be the one to explain.” He quickly backed out of the room, leaving her no chance to demand answers.

She'd wait, but not for long. Opening her utensil drawer, she pulled out her favorite rolling pin. If they didn't let her close to Hunter soon, she was going out there and knock a few heads together. Even if she needed a stepladder to do it.

Shit, this was bad. Hunter would be lucky if Devlin didn't haul his worthless ass back to Seattle and have someone shove a needle full of toxins in his arm. He'd been out of his head with the need to hurt somebody, and that's all it took to condemn a Paladin to death. But, damn it, they should've known better than to let their pet Others drop in on him unannounced.

Neither Barak nor Larem had made a single aggressive move in his direction, but it rubbed his control raw to have them within reach and off limits. They knew it, too. It was no accident that D.J. and Lonzo sat flanking him; there was no question whose side they were on, and it wasn't his.

“Hunter?”

Oh, God, Tate. She sounded tentative as she poked her head into the shop. As soon as she spotted him, she headed straight for him, but the anger in her eyes was directed at his companions. When he saw the rolling pin in her hand, the big knot in his chest eased.

He gripped the edge of his chair to keep from charging across the room to her. It was the second time he'd gone into meltdown in front of her. This had to stop. He'd lost too much of himself in that Missouri cave to ever come back from the edge. Even if she wasn't terrified
of him, he was terrified
for
her. What if he attacked her the next time his brain checked out and the rage took over?

“Are you all right?” She stood just out of reach, clearly unsure of her welcome.

“For now.”

He kept his eyes focused on the table in front of him, but he saw her flinch in response to his abrupt answer. When he didn't elaborate, she backed away.

She cleared her throat and spoke again, this time in her best hostess voice. “Okay, gentlemen, since things are under control here, I'll leave you alone. Before I go, would anyone like tea?”

Hunter didn't trust himself to speak, so he nodded. Barak and Larem did as well. Lonzo finally answered for all of them as the silence dragged out.

“Don't go to any trouble for us, Ms. Justice.”

“It's no trouble. It's my job.”

She retreated to the counter and busied herself filling pots and setting out cups and saucers. When she had everything ready, D.J. went to help her. He winked as he picked up the tray. She did not look amused.

Hunter realized that if he hadn't been in such a foul mood, he would've laughed at the sight of two Others—make that Kalith warriors—and two Paladins drinking out of Tate's fussy china cups. She'd set his usual mug down in front of him, which the other men eyed with no little jealousy. Without a single word, Tate had shown them who belonged in her shop and who didn't. It didn't change anything, but he appreciated the gesture.

Once they finished their tea and the plate of warm
scones she'd brought, they could get down to Paladin business. But not here.

Gradually his four companions started talking amongst themselves. It was odd to hear Larem and Barak discussing the local baseball team's season with Lonzo and D.J. If he closed his eyes, it was impossible to tell who was human and who wasn't. Maybe that was a good thing, but right now it only made it harder for him to maintain control.

He interrupted their conversation. “Gentlemen, I don't know about you, but I could use a long walk.”

“Sounds good.” Barak nodded and then approached Tate, pulling out his wallet. “How much do we owe you?”

D.J. shifted slightly toward Hunter, ready to intercede if necessary. But there was no need. Even if Hunter hated having an Other pay for him, Tate was already shaking her head no.

“My treat today. Next time I'll let you buy.” She kept her eyes focused on her computer screen. She offered him a small brown paper bag. “I thought you might like to try this tea. It's one of my custom blends.”