Patrols of Opiri and Daysiders from Oceanus would have to cross those hills to find them, Garret thought, and the presence of such a patrol on their side of the Willamette would be a matter of very bad luck.
At the moment, he and Artemis were observing from the edge of what had been a wide street bordered by parking lots and the remains of large, warehouse-style buildings. The woods ended here, replaced by scattered, smaller trees and shrubs, and resumed a thousand feet to the northeast.
Artemis rose from a crouch, shaking her head. “Nothing new,” she said.
Garret concealed his frustration. Artemis had been vigilant; as they’d traveled, varying the hours between night and day, she had found numerous indications that Freeblood packs had passed this way. The “when” was more difficult to pin down, and there had been no clear signs of the presence of a human child.
He’s still alive, Garret told himself. He’s a fighter. And they must have a reason for taking him so far.
“Garret.” Artemis laid a gloved hand on his shoulder, her dark eyes catching reflected light under the shelter of her hood. It was the first time they’d had any physical contact since they’d left Pericles, and suddenly he was immersed in the warmth of her body and the indescribable scent of her skin drifting out from beneath her heavy cloak. His heart began to race as it had when she had taken his blood, triggering the same startling current of desire and longing he had felt before and had struggled to ignore ever since.
Her fingers began to shake, and she withdrew her hand. “It’s still early,” she said. “We can be halfway across the territory before night falls.”
“How long since you’ve taken blood?” he asked, breathing deeply to slow his heartbeat and suppress his arousal before it became too obvious. “You haven’t hunted for yourself since you took mine, have you?”
She shook her head in a distracted way that worried him. He’d expected her to hunt at least once during the times they’d stopped to rest, but he’d begun to suspect that she’d neglected herself because of his eagerness to keep moving.
“Go now,” he said, “I can wait as long as it takes.”
“Later,” Artemis said. With an abrupt, almost clumsy motion, she hitched up her pack and headed north toward the next patch of forest. Garret jogged to catch up, and then strode ahead of her. He could see far better in daylight than she could, and though the chances of ambush seemed small, he wasn’t prepared to risk her walking into one. The Vampire Slayer, though still hidden in his pack, was close enough at hand that he could pull the segments out, assemble them and fire in less than a minute.
Sooner or later Artemis would find out about the weapon. He just hoped it wasn’t because he had to kill a Nightsider right in front of her eyes.
They cleared the ruins of Salem by midday and began to travel in a more northeasterly direction, moving well away from the river and mountains to the west. Garret kept a constant eye on Artemis, watching for any sign of weakness that would indicate an urgent need for blood. But she continued to behave as if everything were normal, and he knew that forcing the issue wouldn’t do anything to gain her cooperation.
At last they crossed the old six-lane freeway, passing through former pastures, farmland and orchards that had given way to mixed conifer and deciduous forest. Several times Artemis detected the scent or tracks of Opiri moving in groups, but again there was no indication that they carried a human prisoner. They met no patrols from Oceanus. It seemed to be going almost too smoothly until, soon after sunset, Artemis began to weave and stumble again.
Garret was looking for shelter where she could safely rest when she jumped the thicket of wild roses that stood between them and barreled into him, dragging him to the ground. Her hood barely stayed over her head.
“Opiri!” She flung her body across his as if to prevent him from rising.
His pack—and the VS—were trapped beneath him. He lay still as her breath puffed against his cheek, the gentle curves of her body seeming to fit against his like a missing piece of a puzzle falling into place.
“How close?” he asked.
Artemis turned her head, her lips inches from his. “Close,” she said. “It is fortunate that the wind is with us.”
“Patrol? Or rogues?” he asked.
“I believe they are Freebloods. I think there is a human with them, but—”
“Timon!” Garret began to rise, but she held him back with all her obviously waning strength.
“Don’t be a fool!” she said. “If they have him, it won’t do us any good to rush right up to them and try to take him.”
Closing his eyes, Garret worked to regain his composure. Artemis was right. God knew what the Freebloods might do with Timon if they felt threatened. If it even was Timon.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m all right.”
She stared into his eyes for a long moment and then rolled off. Keeping low, he got to his knees and looked over the top of the thicket.
“You won’t see them,” Artemis said, kneeling beside him. “They are some distance ahead.” She slid him a glance out of the corner of her eye. “You know I have a far better chance of getting near them without alerting them.”
“Not when you haven’t fed,” he said.
“I am well,” she said.
“You’ll have to take my blood again.”
“No.”
“You’re being irrational, Artemis.”
“I will not do it.”
“Then you’ll have to stay here while I scout, or you could get both of us killed.”
“I tell you I am well!” she said, her voice nearly rising from a whisper.
He took her face between his hands, though he knew what it might do to both of them. “Are you so disgusted by what happened between us that you’d ignore your own health and risk your life?”
The moment he finished speaking, he realized how desperately he wanted her to say no.
Her breath caught, and so did Garret’s. Fear and desire surged through his body, and it almost seemed as though they were her feelings as well as his. She was afraid of him, and of herself. Afraid she would take, and give, too much. She sensed that he was desperately afraid for her. Not because she could help him find Timon, but—
Artemis pulled away, her face paler than it had been a moment before. “When we know whether or not your son is with these Opiri,” she said, “I will do whatever is necessary. For the moment, you must let me go ahead.”
“No,” he said. “We go together.”
“So that you can protect me?”
He knew how she would react if he admitted the truth. Yes, he wanted to protect her, as much as he’d ever wanted to protect Roxana. And he’d been in a far less advantageous position to help Roxana in the Citadel where he’d been a serf and she his mistress.
“If you’re not in your right mind, you’ll need my protection,” he said. He glanced up at the sky. “It’s nearly sunset. In a few minutes you won’t need your heavier clothes, and you’ll