Heart of a Warrior (26 page)

“Me too.”

She looked at herself in the mirror and frowned.

“I don’t think I can let him do it, Cho.”

“What will you do?”

“
I don’t know. Help them. Stop him
.” She shrugged.

“Fiona, Nic loves you.”

“I love him. Enough to tell him he’s wrong.”

“He’s sworn an oath, and that means a lot to him.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“If you go against him, it’s going to kill him.”

“Better me than himself, Cho. He’ll get over me. How will he live with himself?”

“Don’t be so sure he can live without you.”

“Let’s just see what he decided, okay?”

“Right.”

She finished brushing her teeth and got dressed. Nic came in the back door after she’d sat down with a bowl of cereal and a large glass of juice. He closed the back door, hung up the sword, and headed to his room without speaking.

Not wanting to push him, she gave him his space, knowing when he made his decision, he’d tell her.

She’d washed her dishes and dried them before he came out, fresh from a shower. His hair was still wet and a glistening damp curl clung to his forehead. She wanted to go to him, hold him tight, and brush the curl away, but she stayed put.

“Want some breakfast? Can I cook something for you?”

“No. I’m not hungry.” Nic pulled out a chair and sat across from her, his hands flat on the tabletop.

“Did you come to a decision?” Fiona sat, folded her hands on the table, and waited. She held her breath.

He looked at her. His dark eyes didn’t give her a hint of how he felt, and that wasn’t good.

“Yeah.” He licked his lips. “I’m going to find them. And kill them.”

Fiona frowned and bit her lip. Slowly she pushed to her feet. “I have to go home, Nic. I can’t watch you do this. I know right and wrong, and this is wrong.”

“I understand. Go.” He stared at her. She could see in his eyes he knew it would come to this. And he wasn’t surprised she’d leave him.

“It doesn’t change the way I feel about you, Nic. I love you, nothing will change that. I just can’t understand why you’ve made this decision.” Fiona shook her head.

“I love you, and I need you to stand by me on this. It’s what I do. What I’m sworn to do. It’s what I am.” He stood also, his hands in fists.

“This is
not
who you are. You’re better than this.” Her voice rose as she leaned on the table.

“Look. I’ve been doing this for almost fifteen years. Now, after only a few days, you’re going to start telling me who I am and what I’m supposed to do? And what is right and wrong?” he yelled. “Who the
hell
do you think you are?”

Fiona’s lip trembled. “Someone who loves you.”

“Not enough, obviously,” he shot back.

She ignored his cutting remark, but it wounded her.

“There is more at stake than just standing by your oath. If you do this, if you kill Ivan and Annie, it’s going to eat away at you.” Fiona spoke with conviction, but Nic dashed her words away with a sharp swipe of his hand.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

“I know you felt something for Ivan, some kind of kinship. He fought beside you. He probably saved my life. You were united against a common foe. And Annie is just as much a victim as anyone else.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a bleeding heart?”

“And you’re an unreasonable, blind, hard-ass!”

“Yeah, it’s why they pay me the big money,” he sneered. “I’m the chosen warrior, Fiona, not you! I say who lives and dies. Damn it, that’s why I work alone, so I don’t have to deal with this crap.” He swiped his hand through his still damp hair.

“Crap?” Fiona’s face fell. She held her breath and then let it out slowly, her chest deflating. “I’m ‘crap.’” Stepping away from the table, she left the room.

“Fiona, come back. He didn’t mean to say that!”

There was no answer.

“Nic, apologize, right now!”

More silence.

Fiona moved, unseeing, down the hall to her room and threw open the door. She had to get out of here. Go home and get some perspective. Pulling open the drawers to the dresser, she began to throw the clothes she’d put away onto the bed.

Going to the closet, she lifted her duffel bag from the floor and carried it to the bed. Packing her bag, she viciously shoved her clothes in, muttering to herself under her breath about the stupidity of a certain man in particular and most men in general.

When that was done, she headed to the bathroom. More muttering. She’d known it was too good to last. Clearing off the counter with a swipe of her hand, she dumped everything into her small case and then stuffed it into the duffel bag too. She jerked the zipper, and of course, it snagged. Struggling with it, she began to cry.

“Goddamn zipper!” She tugged, but it wouldn’t budge. She sat on the floor, legs crossed, tears leaking. She tried to back the zipper up, but it was caught on the material, the way zippers always do when you’re in a hurry. Wiping her eyes with her hand, she tried to look closely at where it had jammed.

“Fine, just friggin’ fine.” Why did this always happen, especially when you’re trying to get the hell out of someplace and make a dramatic exit?

At last, it backed up and she managed to zip it shut. She stood, threw her purse over her shoulder, and then shrugged her shoulder into the strap of the duffel bag. Looking in the mirror of the dresser, she caught her own reflection and froze.

Don’t go
, her heart raged.
He needs you.
But the small voice in the back of her mind whispered,
He needs you to show him the way
. So many emotions flashed on her face she barely recognized herself. Self-preservation won out over her heart, and she took a ragged breath, turned away, and left the room.

She bolted down the hall, through the living room, and out the door, slamming it shut behind her before Cho could even say good-bye.

•

Nic sat on the couch, arms folded, smoldering anger emanating off him in waves.

“Nic, stop her!”

“Forget her, Cho.”

“Forget her? Are you insane?”

“No. Forget her. I have.”

“I can’t do that, Nic. Neither can you.”

“We have to. She’s gone.”

“This is so wrong. Can’t you see that?”

“You’re taking her side now?”

“There are no sides. Just right and wrong.”

“
Et tu, Brute
? Get lost, Cho.” His voice was low and resentful.

“What?”

“If you’re not with me, you’re against me.” He stood and faced the tree.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Get out! If you hurry, you can catch her. Go on!” He shouted at the lizard and flung his arm out, pointing to the door.

“You don’t mean that.”

Nic bent and pulled a knife from his boot. He straightened and threw it before Cho could react. The knife stuck in the wall behind the potted tree with a quiet
thwang.

Cho raised himself up, cocked his head, and stared at Nic.

“I care about you. She loves you. Those bastards in the chamber, they don’t give a shit about you. To them, you’re just a tool. We care. Can’t you trust us?”

For a long moment, Nic stared at the lizard and then closed his eyes.

“Shit!”

Nic stumbled backward, sitting on the floor with a thud. He put his hands in his hair and sat holding his head. The first hot tears he’d shed since his parents died coursed down his cheeks. He dashed them away with his hand.

“Fiona,” he whispered.

“What have I done?”

“Stop her, Nic. Get up off your sorry ass and go after her.”

Nic jumped to his feet, ran to the door, and flung it open. Her car was gone. He turned back, grabbed the keys to the Jag and ran out, slamming the door behind him.

Cho looked at the knife, still quivering, embedded in the wall.

Yeesh. I sure hope he meant to miss.

— • —

Driving was becoming dangerous. Fiona could barely see through her tears.

I need a set of friggin’ wipers on my friggin’ eyes!

Using her hand to wipe them away wasn’t working, and she really needed to blow her nose. Reaching for her purse to search for a tissue, she moved the steering wheel, and the car swerved. The right front tire went off the blacktop and into the soft dirt. Grabbing the steering wheel with both hands, she let off on the gas, and the car slowed.

How could she fall in love with him? How could she give him everything? She’d been such a fool. She knew he was going to break her heart.

I thought he was the one.

The car limped down the side of the road. Fiona waited for the right time to pull the car back into the lane. Seeing what looked like a good spot ahead, she jerked the wheel. The car went over the lip of the road and slid across into the oncoming lane.

“Shit!” Fiona jerked the car back into her lane. The car fishtailed across the blacktop and back onto the side of the road.

The Toyota bumped and jarred its way along the soft shoulder and then slid sideways down the slope. She tried to accelerate, turning the wheel to go up, but the tires spun, kicked up the soft dirt, and churned it under her wheels. There was no controlling the car now, only a slow, downward momentum. Her biggest fear was that the car would roll over, go down the slope, and disappear into the forest below.

They’ll never find my body.

At the bottom was a water-filled gully. The car nosedived into it and came to a jolting halt, muddy water spraying onto the windshield. Everything in the car flew forward. Her purse in the front seat spilled onto the front passenger floorboard, and the duffel bag in the backseat flew across the cabin as her head whipped forward, striking the steering wheel. Then, only silence.

The airbag deployed.

Fiona cursed.

Moaning, she rubbed her forehead. Her shoulder where the seat belt had tightened was definitely going to be bruised.

“Great! Just friggin’ great.” She punched at the worthless, deflated airbag.

She tried to open her door, but it wouldn’t budge. Dirty water filled the floorboard. Unbuckling the seat belt, she shoved her shoulder against the door, it flew open, and she fell out, into the gully.

“Shit.” She knelt there as she blinked muddy water out of her eyes. It soaked her clothes and dripped from her hair.

Looking up the steep slope, Fiona determined she was about twenty feet from the top where the road ran.

“Climb every mountain. Yeah, right. Nobody mentioned doing it sopping wet.” She flicked her hands, sending mud and water flying, and then wiped them on her wet pants.

Fiona’s feet slipped in the leaf clutter and soft dirt as she climbed out of the gully and scrambled up the slope. A few steps forward, and if she was lucky, she wouldn’t slide backward.

No such luck.

After her second slip, she wound up on her knees, her fingers digging into the soft ground above her to keep from sliding. Sitting back on her heels, she hit the ground with her fist in frustration.

“Son of a
bitch!"

Fiona heard a car approaching. The deep rumble of the engine sounded like Nic’s Jag, and for a second, a tiny bit of hope sprang up in her. Then she frowned. He wasn’t coming after her, and even if he did, he’d never find her down here.

She looked back at her sad little car. With all the water, it looked like a total loss, but the insurance would have to decide that.

“Well, I needed a new car, right?”

On the highway above, the rumble of a car’s engine grew louder. Maybe she could get some help. If she wanted to catch it, she had to do something, and fast.

“Damn! Damn! Damn!” The car went past. Well, there was always the next one. Just how often did cars go down this road?

Fiona looked back at the muddy water. More than anything, she didn’t want to go back in it, but her cell phone was in her purse. She needed her purse too.

She braced herself and stepped in. Mud squished under her feet. Her shoes were definitely ruined now. She looked inside the car and saw her cell phone lying on the passenger side floor. Time to see if that expensive case she bought really was waterproof.

Climbing back in, she scooped up her purse and shoveled her stuff back in, but held onto her phone.

Now if it was dead, she was really in trouble.

With a deep breath, she leaned against the car, flipped the phone open, pressed the Power button, and waited. It powered up, thank God. As it searched for a signal, Fiona muttered, “Come on. Come on.”

No signal. It must be the woods. She’d have to climb higher.

After she put the strap of her purse around her neck and over her shoulder, she shoved her phone in her pants pocket and started climbing.

Clutching onto roots, grass, and dirt, she made it almost to the top. As she rested, she pulled out her phone and flipped it open.

At last, she got reception and the power was at full strength. Hitting the Contacts, she scrolled down the list and found Nic’s cell number. She hit Send and waited, listening to the ring.

“Pick up, Nic…”

•

A loud chirping filled the car, and Nic cursed. His cell phone was in the front pocket of his jeans, of course. Getting to it would require him to slow down to a safe enough speed to take his hand off the wheel, lean back to reach in his front pocket, and fish it out.

“Damn!” He was in no mood to talk to anyone, especially those old bastards from the Council. Slowing to a modest fifty, Nic performed the ballet to retrieve his phone. He flipped it open without looking at the caller ID, anxious to get his hands back on the wheel.

“Nic.”

“Nic! Thank God!” a breathless voice answered.

“Fiona! Where are you? I’m right behind you on the road.”