Читать книгу The Immortal's Redemption - Kelli Ireland - Страница 10

Chapter 3

Dylan discreetly followed the pair across the lobby and briefly held off following them outside. Not once were they out of his line of sight. They might believe he was as gullible as a spring lamb born yesterday, but he knew the man, Ethan, had been looking to ditch him by sending him for a glass of water for the woman. The woman. She wasn’t simply the woman to him, but rather the foretold woman. Kennedy Jefferson. The key to his survival lay somewhere within her. A hard shudder worked through him, and his fingertips burned. It was reactionary to clinch his hands in order to hide the show of magicks he couldn’t regulate. Simply the thought of her challenged his control. Irritating, that particular tell, and not a small one at that. Made him feel like a fool on a righteous errand.

He watched as the two slipped inside the coffee shop before he stepped outside in silent pursuit. He stood in a group of strangers and waited for the crosswalk sign to turn. A wave of subtle power struck him, faint and scentless. If it had held a smell, or even a flavor, he’d have been able to identify the element to which it was bound, but the wave retreated far too quickly for him to gain a good hold on it.

Dylan moved quickly, undoing his cufflinks and pocketing them. The dirks up his sleeves and the gun at his back needed to be accessible without interference or delay. He hesitated—actually hesitated—outside the little coffee shop. Reconciling assignments where a gods-be-damned woman was the target had always been the hardest for him. But Kennedy Jefferson proved a whole different level of difficult. She’d haunted him for 300 years. Memories so clear they could have been recent versus centuries old swamped him. The goddess Danu’s warning, issued in a dim Scottish cave three centuries ago, rolled about his mind. She had come to him and spoken of finding some immeasurable truth that would save not only mankind but the Druidic race, as well. To fail would result in the release of the imprisoned gods.

He’d pleaded with her, begged for more to go on than that. She’d considered him carefully before issuing him a name. “Begin seeking her in what will be a new world to you, Dylan, for she is the only one who holds the truth. You must find Kennedy Jefferson before all is lost. She has within her the single truth you must reveal and accept.” And then Danu had disappeared.

The light changed, the crowd jostling him hard enough to knock some sense into him. He had no business bandying about with memories no more tangible than fairy tales. Instead, he searched the glass-fronted shop, located his target and shifted directions, slipping down first one side of the building, then around the back and up the other. There were exits fore and aft, as well as a handful of tiny windows. He couldn’t watch them all. Shouldn’t have to, though. She had no idea who he was or why he was here, so she wouldn’t likely run. Not yet, anyway. Not unless Cailleach took the wheel, because that bitch had definitely recognized him.

Another brush of power skated over his skin with blades as sharp as knives. It had to be coming from the woman. No one else could harness that kind of power and keep it secreted, not from the men who’d done the background check on this mission. Hell, Dylan knew things about Kennedy Jefferson she’d likely hate—that her mother committed suicide when Kennedy was thirteen. That her father remarried when Kennedy was twenty-two and died of a massive heart attack last year, just days after her twenty-ninth birthday. That she’d been a combat medic in the army and went to college on the GI bill.

The only explanation for the power surge painted her as the source. Still, he needed confirmation. If someone with such undiluted strength had glommed on to her, the playing field had just changed.

Grabbing a newspaper, he pulled up a seat to one side of the shop’s entrance. He could see her standing in line. Perfect.

The electric doors to the café swished open. Scents of coffee, baked goods and humanity were strong enough to mask all but the closest magicks, elemental or otherwise. Damn it. He needed to get a bead on the type of magick being wielded. Too many smells to contend with here. He’d have to step inside.

In the time it took him to dump his paper and move to the door, the woman had taken up with her companion on a sofa near the fire. Dark head bent forward, her lips moved rapidly. Every now and again she’d glance up, considering the man’s response before carrying on. She looked over her shoulder once, gaze roaming the room. Those dark blue eyes stole his breath.

Kemp touched her leg and regained her attention before her gaze found Dylan. Too bluidy bad. He’d quite like to go ahead and call her out, to draw her out and end this here and now.

Dylan’s power leaked inexplicably, coiling loosely around him. Before he could tamp it down, her companion’s chin whipped up and turned toward him. Dark gray eyes were like storm-lashed seas, and Dylan knew for certain where the power he’d felt had come from. He could smell it now, the loam of damp earth, and knew only one brand of magick with such a distinctive scent. Warlock.

“Oh, son, ye’ve toyed with the wrong man,” Dylan whispered, nodding his head in acknowledgment.

Kennedy’s companion nodded back, never faltering. She must have misunderstood his movement as a suggestion to look to the doorway, because she stopped speaking midsentence and turned. Her mouth fell open.

He arched a brow at her and grinned, mouthing the words, “Your office. Now.”

Her mouthed response had him smiling even wider.

The doors slid open and he stepped outside to wait. Over the years, he’d learned to pay attention to his instinct, and right now? That instinct was screaming she was about to take flight. The thrill of the chase had his blood pumping through his veins and, for the second time since he’d landed in Atlanta, he found himself feeling alive. It didn’t slip his notice that both times he’d felt so invigorated, it involved the woman he’d just ordered to heel.

No, it didn’t slip his notice at all.

* * *

“Hell,” Ethan snarled, eyes focused somewhere behind her.

“What?” Kennedy turned in the direction of his stare. Her skin heated at the same time she broke out in goose bumps.

Dylan O’Shea smiled the darkest, most seductive smile she’d ever seen and mouthed three words. “Your office. Now.”

“Oh, shit,” she whispered.

“Kennedy? Look at me.” Ethan reached out and grabbed her arm after Dylan left the building. When he tugged, she turned to face him. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

She reached for her coffee cup, her hand shaking so badly she abandoned the effort. “I can’t just leave, Ethan. The cop obviously knows we skipped out. I can only avoid his questions so long before he hauls me in for a more formal sit-down.”

“I’m not screwing around.” His voice struck her like a lash and made her flinch. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed hard enough she gasped. “And he’s not a cop. Not even close.”

“What’s with you? You’re hurting me.” She yanked on his grip, but he didn’t let go. “And what do you mean he’s not a cop?”

“Sorry. Look, I recognize him. I should have realized it before now. I...” He let her go and ran both hands through his hair. “He’s dangerous, Kennedy. More dangerous than you can possibly imagine.”

A quick glance around proved the man had disappeared. The way she struggled to sit still, the feeling of eyes boring into her back, said he was watching them. “What’s going on?”

“Have to get to my car.” Ethan stood and scanned the coffee shop. “It’s the only chance.” He stood and yanked her to her feet.

“Hey!”

“Quiet,” he whispered, gaze darting around.

Tension wound its way up her spine in lazy spirals, tightening and strangling as it went. “You’re scaring me.”

“Yeah? Good. Better scared and alive than naive and dead.”

Dead. “You’ve gone over the edge. The guy said he’s a cop.” Dread followed tension’s weaving pattern up her back. “What if I hurt someone, Ethan? What if I did something horrible and that’s why he’s here?”

“He never once said he was a cop, Kennedy. We assumed. But he’s not. He’s a...the...not a cop. Forget it. I’ve got to get you out of here.” Arm around her shoulders, he steered her to the back of the coffee shop.

“Get me out of here?” she parroted.

Ignoring her, he stopped outside the restroom and glanced around. “Go inside. Lock the door, count to thirty and then shimmy out the window. Head to your car. I want you to drive a hundred miles east, then a hundred miles south. Make credit card purchases. Call in a hotel reservation somewhere in North Carolina, somewhere you could get to today. Buy a plane ticket somewhere across country, but don’t go to the airport. He’ll be watching. Probably your house, too.” He pulled his hair. “Then I want you to come back here and meet me at my house at nine tonight. It’ll give me time to figure out how to get you out of this.”

“This? This what? You’re acting crazier than me. Why in the world do I have to leave through the bathroom window?” She looked back. “He’s not even here.”

“Yeah, he is. Just because you can’t see him doesn’t mean I can’t sense him.”

“I’m going to lose it if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

He pulled her to a stop outside the bathroom door. “I can’t. Not right now. Just...if you’ve ever trusted me, please do as I say. I’m going to redirect his attention, make him think I’m helping you out a different window. In the meantime, you crawl out this one and run. Get to your car and drive like the devil’s arrived and brought hell with him.”

Goose bumps stole over her skin and she shivered. “A little overdramatic, don’t you think?”

“No. I don’t.”

And with that, he pushed her into the bathroom and shut the door.

* * *

Kennedy stumbled into Ethan’s house a few minutes before nine, exhausted. Ethan had freaked her out. His fear had leeched straight through her, and she’d carried it with her everywhere she’d been today, from the outlet mall for clothes to the computer café to every gas station. That fear had eventually bled off, though, the adrenaline unsustainable. Now, wandering through his dark house, it was back. Tendrils wound around her legs like a thorny climbing rose. She wasn’t sure what to do. The sting of tears caught her off guard, and she blew out a hard breath.

“What’s happening to me?” she whispered in the darkness.

A hand clamped over her mouth tightly, and she was dragged back into a hard body.

She fought like a mad woman, biting, kicking, scratching—everything she’d learned in the army.

Just as she’d maneuvered to flip her assailant over her shoulder, he shouted, “Calm down!”

Nostrils alternately flaring and sucking almost closed as she struggled to get enough air, she stopped fighting.

“I’m letting you go.”

Hands slipped away and she spun, knee connecting with a denim-clad groin.

“Oompf!” Ethan doubled over and couldn’t contain the groan that escaped him. “Damn it, Kennedy. You just scrambled my eggs.”

Chest heaving, she took in the shadowy form of her best friend. “Damn you, Ethan! You leave me with directions to run and then return before shoving me into a freaking public restroom, show up here in the dark and finally, truly, scare the crap out of me. What’d you expect me to do? Say thanks?”

“Keep it down.” He propped his hands on his knees and slowly worked his way to standing.

She rubbed her lips, tasting blood. Mine or his? Spinning on her heel, she stalked into the kitchen, leaning against the counter. “I decided I’m not doing this, going along with your apparent he’s dangerous theory just because I trust you. And I do. Trust you, that is. It’s just...

“This is out of control, Ethan. Climbing out public bathroom windows and dodging Dumpsters and one very large rat to get to my car isn’t reasonable. I’m bruised, scraped up and scared. Living like this isn’t an option. Personnel made it clear last time I missed work that my job was in jeopardy. After this latest stunt? No way. It’ll cost me, and being the director of nursing is who I am, Ethan. I’m not willing to give that up.”

He stepped close and wrapped her in his arms, the hug tight and long. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too, though I’m still not exactly sure what happened.” She tilted her head back and he kissed her on the forehead. “Thanks.”

“You’re my girl. How else would I greet you?”

“Want a beer?” She opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle, offering it over her shoulder.

“Nope. I’m driving.”

She twisted the top off the bottle and took a long pull, the hoppy flavor making her taste buds curl a little, before turning toward Ethan with slow deliberation. “Driving?”

“We’re getting out of here.”

“Clearly, you didn’t hear me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ignoring her, he spun away and, wraith-like, slipped through the dark house.

She rolled her shoulders and leaned a hip against the counter. It took a minute for her to gather her wits about her before following him down the hall and into his bedroom. When she reached for the light, he grabbed her wrist.

“Lights need to stay out.”

“What? Why?”

“I would imagine we’re okay, but I don’t want to tempt the Fates. The, uh, guy from earlier could be around,” he muttered.

“The cop that’s apparently not a cop.” She considered him carefully. “You realize that every word out of your mouth makes you sound like you’re the one in need of the psych eval, right?”

The ensuing silence said volumes. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, hard in a way she’d never heard it before. “You’ll owe me an apology when this is all said and done.”

She knew she should say something to smooth ruffled feathers, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she carefully lowered herself to the floor and sipped her beer, watching as he packed a small bag.

“You have no idea how much trouble you’re in. Why is this guy gunning for you? What have you done?”

She coughed and sputtered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Gunning for me? You make me sound like I’m an animal and it’s open season. And as for what I’ve done? That would be a big, fat nothing. Not that I remember.”

Ethan shifted. A slight split in the curtains let in the glow from the streetlight and made his gray eyes appear nearly lifeless. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into with him.”

“Then explain it to me.” Derision dripped from each word, and while she wasn’t proud of herself, she really feared Ethan had experienced some kind of mental break.

His eyes narrowed. “I ought to, if only to prove you’re screwed. But I’m going to try to talk you into leaving first.”

“I told you—I’m not leaving.”

“You’ve got to get out of town. Your only chance is to start a new life somewhere else.”

“Not happening.” Tracing the rim of the bottle, she considered Ethan. “Who is he, E? I kept thinking about him this afternoon, and I have this feeling I’ve seen him before. It’s like part of me recognizes him, but it’s the part of me that isn’t me. Does that make any sense?”

Ethan stopped breathing.

Something was right on the edge of her consciousness, something big, but it wouldn’t materialize. The harder she chased it, the more like smoke it became, sifting through her fingers with every grab, spreading thinner and thinner until there was nothing left to seize. “I don’t know how else to explain it, but I know I’m not afraid of him.”

“Well, if there is some other part to you, she’s an idiot.”

A deep growl slipped through her lips.

She stood slowly, fighting an unexpected wave of vertigo. “No. I mean it. Explain.”

Ethan’s chin hitched up and his eyes darkened. A small smile played at one corner of his mouth, and he watched her with disturbing intensity. “You want to know? Think before you answer, because once you know? There’s no undoing it.”

She stared at the sliver of light, thinking. Several long minutes passed before she found her answer and was able to look up at him.

The glint of determination on Ethan’s face was so familiar she hardly considered it significant. He was a playful person, true, but he had a steel core almost everyone missed.

He crossed his arms. “Well?”

“I want to know.”

A strange quiet took hold of him as he settled into himself, and she watched it happen with growing anticipation.

“You’re sure?” he asked once more.

Tension spread through her in stops and starts, dragging frayed nerves along for the ride. “Just say it,” she snapped out.

“Fine,” he answered in kind. “I’m a warlock—magick-practicing and everything.”

She broke into a full grin. When he did nothing but stare at her with a totally straight face, her grin began to fade. “Ethan—”

“Nope. That’s not the end of it.” He dragged a hand down the front of his face. “I knew I’d seen Dylan O’Shea before but couldn’t remember where. He came to a coven I was involved in at the time, and he was looking for someone.”

“A coven, as in a bunch of witches with black cats and brooms and cauldrons.” Shaking her head, she tried not to laugh. “That’s rich, Ethan.”

“I’m not a—” He paused, trying to find a way to explain. “Dylan O’Shea is an actual living, breathing Druid. What’s worse? He’s their Assassin. And they only let that dog off the chain when they’ve got a real problem.”

“That’s not funny.” The words were filled with disbelief.

“No, it’s not.”

She shook her head. “You’re trying to scare me into compliance, but it’s not going to work.”

Ethan tapped his chin for a second then smiled, but it was far from a happy sight. “Trust me.” A command, not a question.

Kennedy opened her mouth to answer but could only wheeze. Her hand went to her throat in a panic.

“Easy, honey. I took your voice.”

He leaned forward, hand outstretched, and she scrambled back from him. The backs of her knees hit the bed and she dropped to the mattress, hand still at her throat. This isn’t real.

“Hey. It’s me. Same guy I’ve always been.”

When Ethan reached for her throat, she leaned back.

“It’s easier for me to return what I took if I’m touching you.”

Tension devolved to violent shaking, but she let him come closer.

He passed his hand down the column of her throat and whispered a few unintelligible words.

Her throat tickled for a second and she cleared it. “Holy shit,” she said softly, the curse filled with both fear and awe.

“That about sums it up.” Ethan didn’t look happy.

“I’m not saying you’re right, but if you are, why has Dylan been let off the chain?”

“I don’t know why, but he’s here—” His head snapped up. Sidling up to the window, he shifted the curtain aside. “Goddess preserve us. He really is. He’s here.”