Defeat the Darkness (9 page)

The only way to reach the cave was to sidle along a rocky outcropping that ran the length of the bluff from just beyond the cave and back toward the trail. He studied the surrounding terrain carefully, looking for a place that offered a clear view of the cave entrance but would allow him to remain out of sight.

It wasn't going to be easy. Finally, he settled for a spot farther down where the hillside curved out toward the water. The cluster of trees and undergrowth offered the only substantial cover with a good view of the cave.

After setting up his equipment, he decided to take a quick trip inside the cave. Sidestepping his way along the outcropping, he hoped like hell he'd never need to defend the cave in a hurry. Between the loose gravel and occasional roots sticking out of the hillside, it would be all too easy to take a header and dash his brains out on the beach below. On the positive side, the difficult approach would be equally hard for his targets. No one would be making a quick getaway unless they managed to sprout wings.

At the edge of the entrance, he squeezed behind the closest boulder and listened carefully. All he heard was the faint buzz from the barrier. At the moment, it sounded healthy and strong. No time like the present to get acquainted with his own little slice of high-energy hell.

Hunter had to duck to enter the cavern, but inside, the ceiling was high enough for him to stand. The light from outside only extended a short distance into the cave, so he set a lantern on an outcropping. Devlin hadn't provided Hunter with any diagrams of the interior, so he'd make his own.

Using a tape measure to check the width and depth of the main room, he sketched the general layout. The whole room was only about twenty feet wide and twice that deep. He ignored the barrier, preferring to focus his attention on one thing at a time. When he finished measuring, he snapped several pictures with his camera, taking several shots of the camping gear stashed along the side. Obviously someone had spent some serious time there, but there was no way to know if the camper was human or Kalith.

Finally, Hunter gave in to the pull of the barrier and walked toward it. It was the smallest expanse of barrier that he'd ever seen. The portion that ran through Missouri was broken up into several stretches, but none this small. Holding his arms straight out, he could reach from one side to the other. Two, maybe three, adults could cross through it at a time. Depending on how unstable the barrier
was, it would severely limit the number of people who could pass from one world to the other.

Although why the hell a human would want to risk entering an alien world was beyond him. He still had a hard time believing even
one
of Devlin's men had done so. There was no way those blue stones were worth risking lives over, but obviously someone disagreed.

Time to get outside and into position before darkness fell. It was doubtful that whoever was using the cave would do so in the daylight. Justice Point was too small for such odd behavior to go unnoticed, and Others had the added problem of sensitivity to too much light. He might have a lot of long nights ahead of him until he could figure out if they had a regular pattern for their meetings with the Kalith.

As he settled into his makeshift blind, he vowed that he'd bring a blanket and a huge thermos of coffee next time. Drawing his sword and setting his revolver within easy reach, he leaned back and opened his book. The light wouldn't last much longer, but he planned on taking advantage of it as long as possible.

Tate hated mornings like this. She hadn't slept well, mainly because she'd dozed off on the window seat while waiting to see if Hunter went out for his walk. Stupid, she knew, but she couldn't help it.

She had to get over this obsession. Maybe she should take Mabel up on her offer to set her up with her late husband's nephew Matthew, the IRS agent. After all, at least Matthew had a job, which was more than she
could say for Hunter. Other than the fact that he walked around looking like sex personified, she had no idea what he did all day.

The shop door opened. Speak of the devil. That's what she got for thinking about him so much.

“The usual and a couple of muffins.” His voice sounded rougher than usual, maybe because it was early. He took the corner table again after snagging the newspaper off the counter.

“What kind of muffins? I have blueberry, oatmeal raisin, and raspberry,” she asked, adding tea leaves to the pot.

“Surprise me.” He was already bent over the crossword puzzle, clearly done with any attempt at conversation.

She carried his order to his table, setting the teapot and plate down with more force than necessary.

He looked up from his paper. “Is something wrong?”

“No, everything is fine and dandy.”

Except that he looked worse than she felt. Guilt made her ask, “How about you? Are you okay?”

His eyes flashed stormy. “Yes.”

How could he put so much temper in a single word? He looked as if he was about to say more when the sound of a loud pickup pulling up out front distracted them both. Tate didn't recognize the man climbing out of the cab of the truck, but Hunter clearly did.

“Son of a bitch.”

He was up and stomping out the door before Tate had a chance to say a word.

She couldn't hear what the two men were saying, but their body language spoke volumes. Clearly Hunter wasn't greeting a long-lost buddy, nor was he bringing the
man into the shop to share his pot of tea. Instead, the two of them stalked off toward Hunter's apartment.

She would've followed their progress from window to window, but a pair of her regular customers had just pulled into the parking lot.

By the time her customers left, Tate had given up on Hunter's coming back. She dumped his cold tea and wrapped up his muffins in case he wanted them later. His
friend
's truck was still parked out front, so they must have settled their differences.

She wished she'd gotten a better look at the other man. The quick glimpse had left her with the impression that he was as tall as Hunter but slightly broader. They'd even moved with the same powerful grace, despite Hunter's slight limp; maybe they had served together.

That idea brought her up short. He'd never said a word about how he made his living, much less that he'd been in the military. There was just something about him that convinced her she might be on the right track. As she made the rounds, wiping down the tables and straightening up the shop, she paused by the window and looked toward his apartment.

The man definitely had secrets, but that only made her more curious about him. He'd hate knowing that, but she didn't really care. After all, a woman had a right to know something about a man who'd brought her to her knees with a simple kiss.

On second thought, she took that back—there'd been nothing simple about that kiss at all.

O
nce Hunter got over the initial anger at D.J.'s unannounced arrival, he grudgingly admitted that maybe it wasn't a bad idea to share what he'd learned so far with one of Devlin Bane's most trusted lieutenants. Which, in truth, wasn't much.

“Want a beer?”

“Always,” D.J. said with a grin. “Because in the words of the great philosopher Jimmy Buffett, it's five o'clock somewhere.”

Of course, it wasn't yet noon in Justice Point, but Hunter wasn't one to quibble over details. He pulled two cold ones out of the refrigerator and popped the tops. D.J. looked at the label before taking a drink.

“I thought I'd tried most of the local microbrews, but this one is new to me.”

Hunter dropped down next to D.J. “They're all new to me, but I'm working my way through them. So far, this one is my favorite.”

D.J. took a long swig and nodded. “I can see why.”

Hunter was a patient man, but judging by the way D.J. tapped his foot, he was not. Hunter decided to wait the man out. Let him be the one to lay his cards on the table. It didn't take long for the Seattle Paladin to break.

“So, Dev sent me up here to see how things are going, but don't take offense.” D.J. gave Hunter a sheepish grin. “Really he just wanted to get me out of town for a few hours.”

“And why is that?”

D.J. snickered. “It seems that someone uploaded a very creative computer virus to Colonel Kincade's computer. He's the Regents' favorite lapdog in the area, by the way, a coldhearted bastard who hates us almost as much as we hate him.”

“So what did this creative virus do?”

“I don't know exactly.” The wicked gleam in D.J.'s eyes belied his statement. “Something about dancing pigs and fireworks popping up no matter what file he tried to open. I'm sure it will fix itself in about”—he glanced at his watch—“another hour or so.”

Hunter choked back a laugh. “The miracle of modern technology.”

“Yeah, ain't it great?” D.J. laughed. He took another long drink. “So what do you have for me to take back to Devlin?”

Hunter pulled out his rough sketches and spread them out on the coffee table. “I figured most of the activity would be at night, so I went down the trail while it was still light to explore the cave. I took measurements and pictures while I was there.”

He handed his digital camera to D.J. “Night before last I checked out the trail for the first time and heard two men coming back up from the beach.”

That got D.J.'s attention. “Human or Other?”

“I didn't get close enough to tell. I ran into a complication that prevented me from being able to follow them.”

It was too much to hope that the Paladin would let it drop. “What kind of complication?”

“My landlady saw me heading out into the woods and wanted to warn me that the trail wasn't safe at night. I had to stop her from blundering right into them.” The memory still made him furious. That woman didn't have the sense God gave a goat.

“Did she wonder why you thought they might present a danger to the two of you?”

“If she did, she didn't say so. I'm playing it pretty low key, hoping she'll forget about it.”

Fat chance of that happening, but he didn't want D.J. reporting that Tate might be a problem. If she continued to interfere with Hunter's business, he'd be the one to deal with it.

D.J. frowned. “Our preliminary information on this place said an older guy owned that house. When did that change?”

“A few months ago. The previous owner died and left the place to a relative.” Maybe D.J. would assume that Tate was older, too.

“Name?”

Damn, Hunter wished he could keep her out of this, but refusing the information would only make things worse. “Tate Justice.”

The Seattle Paladin typed the updated information into his laptop, then uploaded the pictures from Hunter's camera.

“Anything else I should know?”

“No, just tell Devlin that the next time he wants an update, call. I don't want to draw attention to myself by having a parade of Paladins marching through here on a regular basis.” He gave D.J. a pointed look. “We're not exactly inconspicuous.”

Then he opened the door, a less than subtle hint that it was time for D.J. to be hitting the road.

“Will do. Won't promise he'll listen. The man's a law unto himself.”

D.J. filed past Hunter and headed down the steps. There was no need for Hunter to walk him back to his truck, but he didn't want to chance D.J.'s running into Tate alone. For once, he thought his luck was going to hold long enough to see the Paladin safely on his way. But no, the door of the tea shop opened right before D.J. reached his pickup.

Tate stepped out into the bright sunshine with a paper bag in her hand. “Hunter, you left these behind this morning. I thought you might want them.”

“Thanks.” Maybe if he kept conversation to a minimum, she'd leave. Fat chance.

The cool smile she'd offered him warmed up considerably when she turned it in D.J.'s direction. “Hi, I'm Tate Justice.”

The Paladin flashed a wicked grin at Hunter over her head. “Nice to meet you, Tate. I'd say Hunter told me all about you, but I don't believe he mentioned how lovely
his landlady was. Imagine him trying to keep something like that secret.”

“Shut up, D.J.” Hunter knew he should just walk away because anything he said was only going to encourage the jerk.

D.J. leaned against the front fender of his pickup as if prepared to settle in for a spell. “Now, is that friendly, Hunter? And after I drove all the way up here just to make sure you're all right. Tate, you'd think the man didn't want me here for some reason.”

Great. No sleep, his leg hurt, and now he had this asshole yanking his chain. Hunter took one step forward, his cane in his left hand, his right in a fist, enough of a show of strength to ensure the man knew he wasn't joking.

“I've already said good-bye once, D.J. Don't make me say it again.”

D.J. laughed. “Well, obviously I've worn out my welcome. Tate, I hope to see you again soon.” He dutifully got in his pickup and started the engine. As he backed out, he grinned and saluted her with a quick flick of his hand, then drove off.

Hunter wanted to punch the guy and then kick himself for feeling that way. Rather than say anything to Tate, he did an abrupt about-face and walked away. And, of course, she followed right behind him.

He spun around to face her. “Now what, Tate?”

She blinked and took a step back. “Here!” she snapped, throwing a paper bag at him. “Take your stupid muffins.”

Since he'd missed breakfast thanks to D.J.'s untimely arrival, he supposed he should be grateful to Tate for
her kindness. But as long as she was mad at him, maybe she'd quit crowding him. So instead of apologizing, he decided he was overdue for a little time away from Justice Point. He had plenty of time to drive to Bellingham, grab a quick lunch, do some grocery shopping, and still get back in time to get down to his blind before dark.