Hunting Medusa: The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1 (13 page)

“Hello?”

“Stavros.”

“Uncle.” His nephew’s tone held the proper amount of respect. It didn’t always.

“How is your hunt going?”

Stavros growled. “I haven’t been able to catch up to Kallan for two days. And the things I’m finding don’t indicate to me that either of us will locate her here.”

Exactly what Aristotle had thought after Kallan’s last several messages. Kallan didn’t want help from his cousin. Or was it competition, perhaps? “I think it best you return to your own hunt tomorrow if you cannot find a solid lead there.”

His nephew was silent a few seconds. “May I ask why you’ve changed your mind?”

Aristotle tapped his fingers on the desk again. “No. It should be enough that I want you to follow your own leads. The more leads we follow, the better our chances at finding this Medusa.”

Stavros sighed. “I’ll be happy to return to my own hunt, Uncle Ari. Thank you.”

Aristotle hung up his phone and sat back in his chair, turning his gaze back to the family’s website. Kallan’s messages the past few days had been far more forthcoming than was normal. He rarely shared information about his hunt like this. Something was going on, and Aristotle wanted to know what. He picked up his telephone and dialed another number.

While he waited for an answer, he hoped Kallan hadn’t already found the Medusa. Aristotle couldn’t be sure Kallan would actually carry out his duty to kill her—not after all the questions he’d asked as a boy and a teenager. All the “why” questions.

He had to be certain someone else found her and finally eliminated the monster. And he needed to know what Kallan was really up to.

On the third morning, Andi felt more like herself. She woke with her face resting on the Harvester’s chest, his steady heartbeat beneath her ear, his even breathing riffling through her hair. She rolled onto her back, and carefully stretched out. Only a faint twinge, then nothing.

“Thank the Gods,” she breathed, relaxing.

“Better?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“I was worried.”

She didn’t reply. She couldn’t argue with his claim, as she’d benefitted from his very solicitous care for the past forty-eight hours.

“I think I have a plan.”

Her heart thudded harder. “A plan?” For the amulet, or her?

“Yes. My cousin will only be delayed a day or so at most before he comes back.”

Her lungs worked a little faster.

“How well do you know your mountain?”

“Like the back of my hand.” Which was why she would have been able to hide from him two days ago without any problem, had her body cooperated.

“Is there somewhere we can go he won’t be able to track us?”

“We?”

“You’re going nowhere without me, Andrea.”

That was a problem. “There are a few places.” Including her cave behind the waterfall. But she didn’t think taking the Harvester there was really in her best interest.

“Somewhere protected?”

“Yes.” The cave definitely qualified.

He sat up, braced himself on one hand beside her shoulder. “How long will it take to get there from here?”

“Hiking?” She considered for a moment. If she took him the roundabout way, she could wear him out and lose him. Maybe. “A day.”

He inhaled deeply, and she imagined him pondering the idea. When he exhaled, he touched her temple, just brushing the edge of the sleep mask. “Are you safe now?”

She nodded, wishing just for a second that it wasn’t true.

His strong fingers eased the mask up and off, and she rubbed her eyes, blinking against the bright morning light. He helped her to an upright position. “We need supplies if this location will take us a day to hike to.”

Andi gave him a long stare, panic making her pulse race. What if she couldn’t lose him in the woods? “I have some things in the basement,” she said at last. “Water and food.” Also true.

He nodded, gaze fixed on hers, and she realized she must be a mess. Self-consciously, she lifted one hand to smooth down her hair. A hint of a smile touched one corner of his mouth, making her blush. “Why don’t you shower, and I’ll start a list. We should head out tomorrow at first light.”

Andi looked away and eased out of bed. She gathered clean clothes from her dresser and headed for the bathroom. Behind her, the Harvester still sat in bed, his bare chest visible over blankets that had fallen to his waist. She wondered if he was naked under her covers.

She shouldn’t care.

The bathroom had been straightened up again, she realized as she stripped off her sweats. Her vibrator was nowhere in sight, clean towels hung on the bar, and her hot water bottle lay empty on the sink.

How very thoughtful.

Her mouth twisted and she climbed into the shower, then slid the door shut harder than she needed to. When the water came on, she made it hotter than it needed to be too, to distract herself from how nice he was being. “Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,” she muttered, soaping up her hands before sliding them along her arms, her torso.

The Harvester could be as nice as he wanted, as sexy as he wanted. But she wouldn’t forget why he was here.

She lifted her face into the spray, then turned so her head was soaked next.

Either she would escape him in her woods, or die trying.

Not much as far as plans went, but it was all she had at the moment.

After her shower, she didn’t protest the cuff he put on her to keep her in the bedroom while he got his own shower, which was considerably quicker than hers had been. And he’d left her his list to look at while she waited.

Water. Check.

Food. Check.

Camping supplies. She chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds. In the cave she had more than enough, but she didn’t really intend for him to get there with her. Perhaps he had some of his own in the backpack downstairs. But the pack wasn’t that big. No, he didn’t have those supplies.

“What are you thinking?” He stepped into the room, his inky hair gleaming blue-black and wet as he dragged his fingers through it.

She forced her gaze away from his hair and back to the pad on her knees. “I’m thinking it’s going to be a long trek.”

“You’re up to it, right?” Concern darkened his green eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” She’d get to her cave if she had to crawl there.

He touched the handcuff and it fell away from her wrist. “You’re going to need groceries soon.”

As if he thought she’d be around for much longer. Or, more likely, she told herself, as if he were trying to lull her into believing it—he still had to figure out a way to get the amulet, which meant he needed her alive. She shrugged. “There’s food in the freezer.” Which he wouldn’t be eating much more of.

She wouldn’t be able to come back to her house if she didn’t kill him, concern or no concern. He hadn’t needed to take such good care of her, though, in order to keep her alive. She frowned. He could have handcuffed her in the basement and tossed down bread and water. She pushed aside the brewing confusion—she had bigger problems right now than trying to figure out the Harvester’s motivation.

He steered her downstairs to the kitchen, and she didn’t argue when he pointed to one of the chairs at the table and went to work on breakfast.

Even if she did kill him, it sounded like his cousin was well on his way to finding her, which meant she still couldn’t come back to her house.

The thought made her a bit sad. She loved this house—alone in the woods, with the beautiful forest in summer, and a fantastic view of the valley below in the fall and winter. Even if she was lonely sometimes.

His laptop beeped from its spot on the counter, and he turned away from the stove to look at it. His expression hardened in a flash. “Damn.”

Andi didn’t like that look. “What?”

“Stavros.”

A shiver snaked its way up her spine, and she folded her arms over her chest. “Not so happy with you?”

“He’s already on his way back. He’ll be here by tonight.”

She shot to her feet. Dealing with one Harvester at a time was a challenge, but she couldn’t possibly handle two. Not now. Thalia’s words rang in her head.
Danger is coming from more than one direction.
Well, hell.

Kallan caught her gaze. “We can’t wait until tomorrow, Andrea.”

She shook her head, panic freezing her lungs, then swelling and rising into her throat so it nearly choked her.

“All right. Breakfast, and then we need to go.” He stirred something in the pot and then shut off the burner.

Andi didn’t want breakfast. She just wanted to move. Her stomach churned uneasily, and her head started to thump in time with her heart.

He put a bowl on the table in front of her and touched her shoulder. “You need to eat.”

She glanced down at the bowl, filled with steaming oatmeal, sprinkled with cinnamon and raisins, and felt a lump in her throat. “I’m not hungry.”

“You’ll need it later.” He pushed her shoulder gently, and she sank back onto the chair.

He sat beside her, tucking into his own breakfast.

After a moment, she picked up her spoon and stuck it into the oatmeal. He was right, damn him.

“Andrea.”

She looked up at his gentle tone.

“Will you trust me not to let him get you?”

How could she trust a man destined to kill her?

As if he read the question on her face, his jaw clenched. “I promise,
agaph
, he won’t kill you. I won’t let him.”

His vow rang out in the still room, and for some reason, it made her panic subside just a little. She let out a shaky breath and lifted some oatmeal to her mouth.

Kallan finished his own breakfast quickly, then set about rinsing dishes. When she’d finally finished hers, he pulled her to her feet and set his hands on her shoulders. Her face was pale and set, her blue gaze shuttered. “Can you start bringing up supplies from downstairs? No more than we can carry.”

She nodded, and he released her. Her silence worried him. As had the question plain in her eyes earlier.

She didn’t trust him. She
couldn’t
trust him.

Of course she couldn’t. He existed just to kill her, as had his ancestors existed to kill hers.

That was before his heart had let her in.

He knew he couldn’t tell her how he felt. Not yet. She’d never believe him if he blurted it out now. It was far too soon.

But after they’d gotten through this…

He frowned at the bowl he was rinsing. How would they get through this?

He shut off the water and put the dirty dishes into her dishwasher, then turned in time to see her drop an armload of water bottles onto the table. He went down to the basement with her for the second trip, gathering more water while she picked through some food boxes. Dehydrated pouches of stuff. MREs meant for serious hikers. Or survivalists.

He caught her gaze over the water, and a ghost of a smile touched her mouth. “Just in case?” He’d assumed the boxes were just being used for storing other things as many people tended to keep in their basements.

She nodded. “You never know when you might need to disappear into the woods.” She grabbed a sturdy-looking backpack too, and tossed it at him.

He just caught it, watching her pick up another.

Upstairs, they sorted through the supplies spread over the table, dividing them between the two packs. “We need First Aid supplies, dry clothes.”

She nodded. “I have a kit upstairs. Bug spray, sunscreen.”

He watched the sway of her hips as she went up the steps, too distracted by their planning to fully enjoy the view. This was how one had to live when one was hunted.

It sucked.

He unpacked his own small backpack, then repacked it inside the bigger pack. When she dropped more things onto the table, he caught her wrist. “I’m sorry, Andrea.”

She blinked up at him, her expression somber. “It’s the way it’s always been between our families.” She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug.

He couldn’t argue. “I’m sorry I brought Stavros to your door.”

Her gaze dropped to the table. “Sounds like he would have found his way here eventually anyway.”

The stubborn woman wouldn’t let him apologize. He tugged her closer, startling her, and planted a hard kiss on her mouth. When he set her back, her wide eyes had darkened slightly. He wanted to kiss her again but resisted the urge. “We need to move.”

She nodded, still staring up at him for a second, before she turned to the small mound of clothing she’d dropped onto the table. She methodically rolled socks and shirts before stuffing them into the pack, did the same with a pair of jeans and a jacket. There wasn’t much room left in her backpack.

Nor in his, he noted.

“If I promise not to use it on you, can I have my dagger back?”

He gave her a measuring look, marking the stress lines around her eyes, the rigid set of her shoulders.