“I will not live long past my children,” he said. “I have no wish to do so.”
Utana lowered his head, his heart bleeding in his chest at the thought of finishing the task he had already begun. Oddly, his first attack on the vahmpeers had not hurt him the way only thinking of the next one did. It had not hurt him at all. His mind had not been fully restored then, he thought. He had lashed out like a long-caged and oft-tormented lion, whose door has been left open. It had felt like release.
Now it felt like a crime. Even though he knew it was the will of the gods, it felt wrong in his soul. And he wished with all he was that there was some other way. Even though he knew there was not.
“You’re injured and weak, my king. In only a few hours you will be home. I promise, you’ll be glad you let me help you.”
Utana nodded, then let his head rest against the back of the seat. He was injured. Brigit’s white-hot power had delivered a powerful blow. He’d used every bit of energy he could raise to keep her from killing him. And there was simply nothing left.
“That’s it, my king. You relax. Try to get some sleep. It’s all going to be better in no time. You’ll have food, servants, a physician to examine your wounds. You’ll be treated the way a man of your stature deserves. And you’ll be far more equal to your task when you recover and regain your strength. I promise.”
5
Brigit followed, still on foot. She was exhausted from her battle with Utana. Fighting the oldest immortal had drained her. Predictable, but she tended to see herself as ten feet tall and bulletproof.
Only in hindsight had it hit her between the eyes like a damned mallet that he most likely could have annihilated her if he’d wanted to. But he hadn’t. She had landed a blast. He was probably hurting like hell. Unless he healed rapidly like she and her brother did. Or during the day, the way vampires did. Or if he’d used the healing power he’d taken from her brother, James, to heal himself. If he even knew how.
She wondered about that. About the extent of his powers. About the whys and wherefores of how his brand of immortality worked. She wondered if even he knew the answers to those questions. He was the only one of his kind, after all. Who the hell was he going to ask?
She knew that feeling a little too well. Yet another thing they had in common, she and the big guy. The beam of light from the eyes—the power to ‘splode things, as she’d put it when she was a toddler, just figuring it out and getting yelled at for damn near every little explosion. The immortality, or at least, for her and J.W., apparent immortality. And the lack of anyone else in the world like them.
Of course, she had J.W. But he wasn’t really like her, either. His power was a good one. He was the healer. Hers was the opposite. She was a destroyer.
Like Utana.
He must have missed her on purpose. There was no question. His aim wasn’t that bad. He certainly hadn’t missed any members of that S.W.A.T. team that had surrounded him in downtown Bangor.
She reminded herself sternly that he hadn’t missed many of the vampires he’d attacked, either. Her friends. Her family. Tortured to the point of insanity by five thousand years of living death or not, that was unforgivable. Good to keep that in mind.
At any rate, she’d had a few hours sleep—yeah, in his arms, on the forest floor, like a pair of star-crossed lovers or some shit, but even so, she’d recovered some of her energy, even though she’d been expending it rapidly by following the big guy and his mysterious rescuer on foot ever since, all the while cloaking her presence. The food had helped, and the route the stranger was taking with his oversize green SUV helped even more. It took them right back through Bangor.
Sighing in abject relief, Brigit veered off from her pursuit. She jogged left, as they headed straight through the city, then right, into the drugstore parking lot where she’d left her baby-blue 20th anniversary edition Ford Thunderbird.
God, she loved her car. She had the key ring in her hand before she reached it, hit the remote starter button and unlocked the doors. By the time she slid behind the wheel, her baby was purring and ready. Relief washed over her like a warm bath. Another thing she was missing. For just a moment she leaned back against the headrest, closed her eyes and breathed.
Yes, she had inherited superhuman strength from the vampiric side of her ancestry. She could run very fast, and very far. But it wasn’t as easy for her as it was for her Undead relatives. She had to breathe, her heart had to pump, it wasn’t the same at all. It took a lot out of her.
But her pursuit was not yet ended. And her respite had to be brief.
Without wasting any more time, she got back on their trail, pulling out of the lot, then zooming along the side street parallel to Main, until she reached the edge of town and headed toward the highway. She could still see the tail end of the green SUV up ahead. Pressing down on the gas, Brigit thrilled to the roar of the engine and the feeling of power beneath her. She didn’t even have to max out her horsepower, though, before she caught up enough to be sure she wouldn’t lose them
She eased off the accelerator, keeping a safe distance and hoping Utana wouldn’t notice her so near. If she let her focus waver, even a little, he might sense her. She certainly felt him. He was a keen, sizzling awareness that seemed to come to life in every cell of her body. Every nerve ending seemed acutely attuned to his energy. His life force. His … aura. The closer she got to him, the more her skin tingled and prickled and felt. Every part of her was uncomfortably aware. Like when her teeth became sensitive to heat and cold. That kind of overpowering feeling, of being too sensitive, too aware. Too … vulnerable. Yes, vulnerable. Damn, she didn’t like that at all.
The SUV was turning off. Okay, okay, she needed to stop getting so distracted. She frowned as she approached the exit, noting the signs for Eastern Main Airport. She assumed they meant “airport” in the loosest sense of the word, because they were, at this point, in the middle of nowhere, and because this was not a place she’d ever heard of. It clearly wasn’t a commercial airport.
Good God, they were going to fly? The Good Samaritan was going to get a surprise when he tried to put a five-thousand-year-old Sumerian on an airplane. Utana wasn’t all that stable on the ground, for God’s sake. He was probably going to freak.
Beyond all that, Brigit wondered again who the hell the guy in the SUV was. Her suspicion that he was more than just a helpful stranger grew bigger. Because why would a helpful stranger feed Utana, clothe him, bathe him, shave him and then drive him to an airport?
Something was going on. She should have sensed it from the start. But she’d been so busy trying to sort through all the wishy-washy emotional bullshit, not to mention the fire and brimstone sexual bullshit, in her mind that she’d missed it.
Brigit followed them, staying as far behind as she could, over a circuitous and unpaved road. They bypassed several hangars, heading instead up a side route marked plainly as private. Though she imagined this entire place was privately owned.
No one stopped her as she tagged along, keeping their dust cloud in sight. Not yet, at least.
Far ahead of her, the dirt gave way to a winding strip of pavement. The SUV came to a stop at a manned security booth. After what she assumed was a brief exchange, the zebra-striped bar blocking the way rose up to allow the SUV entry. Not much farther beyond, Brigit saw a small black jet sitting on the tarmac. She could tell from the wavering vapors it emitted that its powerful engines were running.
A private jet?
Well, that clinched it. This Good Samaritan dude was definitely not the kindhearted local yokel she’d taken him for, despite what his jeans and flannel shirt and forest-green SUV might suggest.
Were probably intended to suggest.
The two men got out. Utana was moving under his own steam, and