Hunter's Need (27 page)

Because of her son, more than anything else.

Sometimes they couldn’t do much, not when it came to mortal problems like this. Too often, victims wouldn’t, or couldn’t, leave. It was frustrating as hell, but this time, Duke felt like he’d accomplished something.

But his satisfied smile faded a few hundred yards from the hotel.

Ana—he could smell her.

He rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop at the sight before him. Ana was out in the parking lot, standing at the back of the car, staring down into the open trunk. Something about the way she stood there screamed a warning at him, but it wasn’t until he got a little closer that he realized that something was very, very wrong.

Her scent was different. He couldn’t quite describe it. He scented fear, he scented that warm, singular scent that was Ana, but there was more to it. It was almost . . . almost like it wasn’t just
her
he was smelling. But there was nobody else around. Cautiously, he approached her.

“Ana?”

She didn’t look at him.

She just stared down into the trunk although he’d be damned if he could figure out what held her attention so completely.

“What’s wrong, princess?” He reached out with half a mind to stroke his fingers up and down her arm, but at the feel of her skin, the vague sense of worry exploded into all-out alarm. She was
freezing
, so damn cold he wouldn’t be surprised to see her lips going blue. The cool night air actually seemed warmer than Ana did.

“Ana!” he snapped, his voice taking on a harsh edge.

“She can’t hear you right now.”
The blast of cold air against his face almost came as a welcome respite. He scanned the area, searching for Marie—he knew she was there. Knew it, but even as she wavered into view next to him, it still almost had him jumping out of his skin. And
damn it
, he was having a hard time holding on to his skin anyway, thanks to how fucking pissed he was.

“Why can’t she hear me?” he demanded. “Why the hell is her skin so cold?”

“One of us?” Duke squinted, trying to puzzle that one out. The answer came easily enough, but he sure as hell didn’t like it. “Damn it, are you saying she’s been . . . what, possessed?”

“Who in the hell is it and
why
?”

“One of us,”
Marie repeated.
“One of us, the girl you came here to fi nd. She was almost home when he found her. Now she’s so close to being home again—that’s all she wants.”

“Leah . . . shit, if all she wants is to go home, then why is she
borrowing
Ana? Why in the hell don’t you just tell us what to do?”

“Because we can’t. But don’t worry . . . she isn’t hurt. She won’t be hurt.”
Marie sighed and faded away.

Duke snarled and spun back around, staring at Ana. She was crying now, silent tears that fell from unblinking eyes as she stared into the trunk. He set his jaw and reached out, slamming the trunk door closed. Then he picked her up, cradling her stiff body against his chest. Her body was rigid in his arms, but he didn’t let that stop him. They couldn’t stay out here staring into the trunk indefinitely.

But once he had her in the hotel, he didn’t know what to do. She wouldn’t respond to his voice or his touch. She barely even blinked when he passed a hand in front of her eyes. It was as though she was held in a trance, but this one wasn’t of her own making.

He could only pray it wouldn’t harm her.

But as the hours passed, sitting and waiting just wasn’t enough. Worry drove him to the phone and he found himself waiting on hold indefinitely while they tracked Kelsey down. In the ten minutes he spent waiting, he found himself getting more and more short-tempered, and by the time she came on the line, he was ready to attack at the first smart-ass comment out of her mouth.

But when she spoke, her voice was heavy with worry. “Duke. Something’s wrong.”

It wasn’t a question. She knew. Blowing a breath, he said, “Yeah, something’s wrong. Crazy-ass shit like I’ve never seen.” He kept it short and concise, all the details leading up to this, at least the details
he
knew. He hoped there wasn’t something vital he was missing here, but even if there was, he couldn’t do jack about it right now.

He finished and for the longest time, Kelsey was quiet. When she finally spoke, the tone of her voice didn’t exactly send warm fuzzies rushing through him, either. “Duke, I’ve got to admit, you’ve got me stumped. I haven’t ever had a run-in with a ghost, and I can’t think of too many people who have. At least that I know about.”

“I don’t care about run-ins with ghosts, I just want to know what in the hell you think is wrong,” he said, staring across the dark room at Ana’s still body.

“Duke, I don’t
know
. This is kind of outside my area of expertise. Honestly, I don’t think ghosts like us—they work too hard to steer clear of us.”

Duke frowned. He sure as hell wouldn’t have called Marie’s actions as those of somebody who was trying to steer clear of
him.
“This ghost sure isn’t showing any sign of avoiding me.”

“Maybe it’s because if she avoids you, she can’t get to Ana.”

He squeezed his eyes shut.
Shit, shit, shit
. Although he couldn’t quite get his mind around the logistics of it, he had a bad feeling that was exactly the case. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. He wished he could believe it was just an overactive imagination or something.

He couldn’t. Plastic creaked and he swore as he realized he had the phone squeezed so tight, he was about to crush the phone’s plastic casing. “Why would she want to get to Ana? There’s not much in the way of shifters or witches up there that I’ve sensed, but it’s one big-ass state. There’s got to be others. Why Ana? Why her?”

Kelsey sighed. “Duke, you’re asking me questions and I have no clue to the answers. Ana’s gift isn’t one we’re entirely familiar with. Psychic skill can vary so much from one to another—it’s one area we really just don’t understand as much as we’d like, which really sucks because psychic skills are actually a hell of a lot more common than people realize. But there’s only so much study that can be done when the abilities vary so widely and when we can’t locate psychics as easily as we can track vamps and the like. Their gifts are too low-level, even the strong ones, and unless they’re doing something wrong, we don’t know who they are from Adam.”

“So you have no idea.”

“Ideas—maybe. How plausible they are, I don’t know.”

“Well, even implausible ones are better than I have,” he muttered. He paced back over to the bed and studied Ana’s pale face. Although he could hear her heartbeat, he checked her pulse anyway. Something about the strong, steady beat against his fingers did something to ease the ball of fear in his gut. “She’s scaring me to death, Kelsey.”

“I get that.” She paused and then asked, “Is she physically in danger? She need a healer?”

“Physically . . . no. Not right now.” Then he scowled. Hell, what if he was wrong . . . “Maybe you should come.”

Cold ripped through the room. Duke jerked his gaze away from Ana, searching the room until he saw the shifting form of Marie—she didn’t do one of those reverse fades into existence this time. One second, she wasn’t there, then she was and those black eyes of hers were shooting daggers at Duke.
“No.”

“No what?”

Kelsey said, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I’m talking to Marie,” he said into the mouthpiece.

He shifted the phone away from his ear and stared at Marie. He could heard the tinny echo of Kelsey’s voice through the receiver as he asked Marie again, “No what?”

“I don’t want more of you here,”
she said. The distaste on her face was very clear.

“More of me?” He glanced at the phone. “I’m trying to get somebody else here who could help us—”

Marie laughed.
“Nobody else can. She can. Ana can.”

“How do you do know?”

“I just do . . . ”
As quickly as she’d come, she was gone.

Duke flipped her off, or rather, he aimed the gesture in the area where Marie had been standing but a few seconds ago. Then he set the phone back to his ear and gritted out, “The ghost doesn’t want more company.”

“The ghost,” Kelsey said slowly. “I’m supposed to listen to the whims of a ghost instead of one of my Hunters.”

“Supposed? Hell, beats me. I don’t even know what
I’m
supposed to do.”

“Well, let’s try this . . . what does your gut say? Is this ghost a threat to Ana? I know you said she’d tried to push her way into Ana’s shields, and it gave Ana one hell of a headache. But do you get the sense she’d do worse? Is this ghost the threat?”

He wanted to say yes. But in the end, he couldn’t. Marie was desperate, scared, mad, lonely and grieving—but his gut said regardless of what had happened before, Marie wasn’t going to harm Ana. “No. She’s not the threat—a pain in the ass, but not the threat.”

“Then you don’t really need me or anybody else there.

Sounds like she’s got her mind set on you and Ana—that means you and Ana are probably the only ones who can give her the help she needs.”

She hung up without another word and Duke tossed his cell phone on the bedside table. Stretching out beside Ana, he rested a hand on her belly. “God, don’t let me screw this up,” he muttered.

 

 

T
HE pain was obscene. Shame and desperation and fear had her begging until her voice was raw and still she tried. Tried to beg for mercy, tried to beg for help, until her voice gave out on her and then she just sobbed.

But still, she wouldn’t look at him. She just didn’t want to see him—

It wasn’t until hours later that she made herself look at him. Made herself focus on his face, and look. And remember. He’d taken off the glasses, glasses he didn’t really need. He’d taken off the knit cap as well, and there was nothing to keep her from seeing him. Really seeing him, and memorizing his face, because somehow, sooner or later, he was going to pay for what he’d done.

Sooner or later. When he killed her, wrapping his hands around her neck and choking the life from her, she’d ignored the beckoning light and focused on her memories of him. Because he had to pay. Sooner or later.

Sooner or later . . . it was a mantra, one she repeated over the endless nights, weeks, months and years. Long after he’d buried her body in an unmarked grave out in the Chugach Mountains, she comforted herself by repeating it.

Sooner or later, he would pay.

Sooner or later, somebody would find him.

Sooner or later.

WHEN she came awake in his arms, it was morning. Sunlight filtered in through narrow gaps in the curtains, slanting across the floor. She tensed and then whimpered, deep and low in her throat. “Duke?”

He rubbed a hand up and down her back. “Shhh . . . it’s okay. I’m here.” His hands were shaking, he realized. He gave up trying to comfort her and wrapped both arms around her waist, clutching her tight. “Damn it, Ana, you scared me to death.”

“What . . . what’s going on?” she asked, her voice muffled against his chest.

He stilled. Then carefully, he eased her body away enough so that he could sit up and reach for the light. After turning it on, he studied her pale, wan face. “I don’t know what’s going on. I was hoping you could tell me,” he said softly.

She licked her lips, staring at him with turbulent eyes. “I don’t know . . . ”

Then she stopped. Closed her eyes. “Oh, God.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked forward.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.”

He went to touch her but she bolted from the bed, rushing for the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before she started to vomit. Long minutes passed as she emptied her gut and even after she had nothing left inside her, she continued to dry heave. When it finally passed, she was red-faced, sweating. Duke wiped her face and mouth, but when he offered her a drink, she just stared at it.

“Ana?”

She looked at him and her eyes were glassy.

Too damned glassy—shock.

“Fuck.” He pulled her against him and carried her back into the bedroom. Feet up. He needed to get her feet up—damn it, what else was he supposed to do? He used a pillow to elevate her feet and bundled her up under the blankets, terrified. Should he get her to an emergency room? He was pretty sure the nearest hospital was too damn far away.

“Shit,”
he muttered desperately. He fumbled his phone out of his pocket, but before he could punch a number in, Ana moaned.

A low pitiful sound. Then she struggled free from the blankets and hurled herself at him. Wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed. She clung to him as though she was trying to crawl inside his skin and he felt each harsh, wracking sob so that his chest ached in sympathy.