The Gathering, Page 4

  Something glinted out on the yacht. Leda snatched up binoculars she kept by the living room window and stared through them out to sea. Damn Valdez, he ran a high-tech business.

  She ran out the front door. “Hunter,” she yelled. “They have a grenade launcher!”

  The two men in the boat started rowing frantically to get out of the line of fire. Hunter, his face streaked with blood, sand, and grime, raised his fire-flickering sword over his head once more.

  Leda felt impossible magical forces flowing from the sky, sea, and island itself into the sword Hunter held high. Her own magic was pulled out of her to join the mix before she could stop it, a strange sensation of being drained and boosted at the same time.

  Hunter drew in a breath and shouted one word. Leda didn’t understand what he said, but out on the yacht, a man screamed loud enough to carry over the water.

  Leda jammed the binocs to her eyes in time to see a streak of fire go up from the grenade launcher. The man wielding it hurled it away from the yacht into the sea, where it exploded in a plume of spray. The yacht rocked dangerously, and she heard its motor hum to life.

  Again a surge of magic, and again Hunter cried something in a strange language. The sea swelled. The rowboat shot across the water to the yacht, and then a huge wave heaved both rowboat and yacht from the island, sending them rapidly toward the mainland.

  The sea roiled and bubbled in the wave’s wake, then rushed in to fill the hollow space. Inside his enclosure Mukasa let out a growl that sounded for all the world like laughter. Taro climbed the wires of his cage, grunting his approval.

  The calming sounds of the island returned—wind in the rocks, the rustle of palm fronds, wind chimes on the veranda, the calls of birds in the cliffs.

  Leda flung down the binoculars, jumped from the porch, and sprinted across the sand to where Hunter was doing a victory dance on the beach. His feet moved in a moonwalk while he whooped and laughed at the fast-disappearing boat.

  When Leda reached Hunter, he dropped the sword and caught her by the waist, whirling her off her feet and around and around. “Woo-hoo! I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.”

  Leda wriggled out of his embrace and dragged her hair from her eyes. “Damn it, Hunter, you scared the shit out of me. I thought they’d hit you.”

  She studied the dried blood on his chin and the burned holes in his shirt, and her eyes widened. She touched a bullet hole, and Hunter winced.

  “Careful, love, it’s tender.”

  “They did hit you! Why aren’t you dead? Or dying?”

  His smile was dazzling. “Because I’m an Immortal, sweetheart. I meant to tell you. I thought this would be a more entertaining way to let you know.”

  “Entertaining? Letting me think you were dead?” Leda shoved him away. “You call that entertaining?”

  “I didn’t think you’d care whether I lived or died. I invaded your island and drank all your coffee.”

  “Of course I care. I was about to let you jump my bones. I haven’t wanted to do that in a long, long time. Do you think I’d do that with someone when I didn’t care whether he lived or died?” She balled her fists, wanting to pummel him, but fearing to hurt him, wounded as he was. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Many things,” Hunter said, sobering. “Many things are wrong with me.”

  “You didn’t have to let yourself get shot. You obviously can make a shield.” Leda gestured sweepingly with her hand.

  Hunter’s grin burst forth again, making his green eyes dance like the warm sea in sunshine. “But my way was more fun. Did you see their faces? I thought they’d crap their pants.”

  “Fun for who? I was the one inside the house, bawling for you.”

  Hunter brushed her cheek. “You cried for me?”

  “Yes, why wouldn’t I?”

  Hunter gave her a stunned look. He’d been shot through the heart, had used incredible magic to defeat villains, knew the thoughts of a lion and a bear, and kissed like fire, yet the fact that Leda had shed tears for him seemed the most bewildering thing in the world.

  He stroked the pad of his thumb across her cheek. “Why would you cry for me?”

  “I don’t know. Because you’re . . . I don’t know, so alive, I guess.”

  “I embody life magic.”

  “That’s not what I mean. You’re magical, yes, but you’re the most alive person I’ve ever met. Don’t ask me to explain it.”

  “And yet I am dead inside,” Hunter said quietly. “A thousand years ago, I died, but I can’t die. So I live, and live, and live.”

  Leda let out a breath. “And I’ve only understood about one word in six since you got here.”

  He traced her cheek again. “Why should you need to understand me? Why not just be with me?”

  “I like to understand things.”

  “There’s nothing to understand, Leda. We have the ground, the sky, the sea, and each other. We need nothing more.”

  “Everyone needs something.” Leda knew she was babbling, but couldn’t stop. “Goals, dreams, other people. A purpose. Without those we aren’t alive.”

  Hunter went silent a moment, then pressed his hand between her breasts, right over her heart. “What is your purpose, Leda Stowe? What do you want?”

  Changing the subject, was he? “That’s easy. To help animals. To stop people abusing them.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Leda stared in surprise. “Because they don’t deserve cruelty. Because I can help them. Because . . .”

  “I mean why are you here? Why not on the mainland working for a save-the-animals place? Why are you doing it out here, alone?”

  “Because I can.”

  “Everyone has reasons. What did you do that made you want to hide on an island and baby-sit lions and bears?”

  Leda wet her lips. No one had ever asked her point blank why she’d abandoned a lucrative office job to come out here. He was a life-magic being; Leda did not want to tell him the truth, not yet. She’d never get him to understand.

  “It seemed like a good opportunity,” she finished.

  Hunter laughed. “Liar. Did you come here for penance?”

  “Yes.” The word escaped before she could stop it.

  “I know all about penance. Before I leave here, you will tell me everything. About you, and why you’re here, and why you decided to dabble in death magic.”

  Leda abruptly pushed herself away from him. “How the hell do you know that? Wait a minute, did the Coven of Light send you? I did what I did because it was necessary, not because I liked it. There’s a difference.”

  “I’d never heard of the Coven of Light until you mentioned it.”

  Leda stared at him. “Then how did you know?”

  “It lingers on you.” Hunter’s eyes darkened. “Though it’s very faint. You must have been desperate.”

  “I was.”

  “Did it work? Or backfire on you?”

  Leda gave him a nod. “It worked.”

  “For a price?” Hunter’s eyes were sharp. “And your coven could not stand that, could they? That you made it work, you bent it for good, and were willing to pay the price?”

  “Something like that. But I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t know you; I’m not spilling my guts to you.”

  Hunter glanced at her abdomen. “No, I would not like your guts to spill out, Leda. I’d rather you stayed whole.”

  “How on earth do you not know that idiom?” Leda caught his grin. “Wait, you do know—you’re being a pain in the ass.”

  “That’s what my brothers call me. Hunter, that crazy pain in the ass.”

  Changeable was what he was. Sweeping from sadness to the twinkling grin, to grim worry, to interrogation, back to a sexy smile that promised hours of pleasure. She’d never met anyone like him.

  Far out over the ocean, something rumbled, and the island moved beneath her feet. “Earthquake,” she gasped.

  Hunter caught her against his solid body. Led
a enjoyed his male scent, his strength, the feel of his hand on her back, the wild salt smell of ocean on him.

  The tremor subsided as quickly as it came. Not a very big one, probably the aftershock of a larger quake somewhere out to sea. The island had tremors at least once a week, bigger ones every couple of months. Maybe the grenade explosion had set it off—Leda didn’t know if that could happen.

  “You can let go of me now,” she said.

  Hunter wasn’t listening. He stared intently at the cliffs above them, his expression like what she’d seen on Mukasa when he watched something with his full focus. Leda turned to follow Hunter’s gaze, but spotted nothing unusual.

  Hunter released her slowly. “Leda, go inside the house.”

  “What is it?” she asked, and then she felt it too.

  Death magic, a wave of it unmistakably strong, pouring toward her and the island. Gray-black clouds streamed in from the sea, north to south, screaming on a current of unimaginable speed. The ocean began to boil beneath it, whirlpools abruptly spouting then dying. If Leda had felt incredible life magic from Hunter, this was the equivalent in death magic.

  “Holy Goddess, what is that coming from?” she asked in panic. “Did I bring it here?”

  “No,” Hunter said quietly. “I did.” His face was strangely pale as he kissed her on the lips. “Go inside. Now.”

  Leda wanted to argue—she was a witch, she should stay and protect her animals—but the look on Hunter’s face made the words die. He needed her to keep safe from whatever this menace was. Maybe all those years ago his wife had ignored his plea and remained, dying for her bravery.

  Leda knew Hunter was strong enough to shove her into the house and lock the door on her, whether she liked it or not, but he was letting it be her choice. She nodded once and turned away. She could watch from the window and throw in her magic if needed.

  The animals were smart enough to hide deep inside their enclosures, and Leda saw nothing of them as she climbed the steps to the veranda. She walked into the main room and closed the door behind her, shutting out the terrible wind.

  Darkness blotted the sun and plunged the cheerful daylight into gloom. Clouds spun overhead like the eye of a hurricane, the wind picking up loose debris and tossing it across the waves. How Hunter could stop this or fight it, Leda had no idea.

  She tried to tap the wind, to feed her magic, except this air was fetid. She touched something sticky and foul, with a bite of sulfur, and quickly let go.

  Outside, Hunter sat cross-legged on the sand and laid his sword in front of him. He rested his hands palm-up on his knees, like a yoga pose, then he lifted his head and closed his eyes.

  The magic that came from him was quiet and subtle, nothing like the roiling madness above them. Leda sensed his breathing, slow and steady, his mind calm in contrast to the storm. Magic flowed from him, powerful like the ocean, and just as unstoppable. Without fanfare, the magic doubled then tripled, growing in silent waves like a rippling lake on a summer day.

  Leda watched the waves of his magic rise and flow from him like clear glass, then began spreading out, wider and wider, until they encompassed the entire island.

  He was hiding them. Whatever entity stalked them from above would see only wave upon wave of endless ocean. Leda had never felt such magic, had never seen anyone use so strong a spell against something like that.

  Hunter sat unmoving under the unnatural darkness for almost an hour. Clouds tossed and swirled above them, fingers of wind dipping down to create waterspouts in the sea. But the darkness never found the island. Leda waited and watched, holding her breath, while Hunter sat motionlessly, magic quietly flowing out of him.

  The blackness vanished as suddenly as it had come. The inky clouds dispersed, letting the sun emerge, and the wind died into a peaceful breeze that kissed the island. The darkness fled to the northern horizon and then disappeared altogether.

  Hunter lowered his hands and opened his eyes. Leda expected him to fall over backwards after performing magic like that, but he sprang to his feet as though he had energy to spare. Leda left the house, and Hunter met her halfway down the beach, sliding his hands to her hips. Warm hands, and fire in his eyes—the remnants of magic.

  “It’s gone,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “What do you want to do now? Go to bed?”

  Leda wanted to scream at him, and she also wanted to laugh, to fling her arms around him and tell him she was glad he was alive. “You’ve been trying to get me into bed since you got here.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Seriously, something’s going on,” she said. “Something dangerous, you said to Douglas and me. We need to talk about it.”

  “I don’t mind talking about it,” Hunter answered, shrugging. “Maybe after we have sex?”

  The bullet wounds behind the torn T-shirt had already closed, pink puckers on his chest where the holes had been. Leda’s head came to his chin, and she looked up at his square, strong jaw dusted with red-gold whiskers.

  “How is any of this possible?” Leda touched the warm skin of his chest. “You’ve healed from something that should have killed you. My lion didn’t try to eat you. And that spell was bigger than anything the Coven of Light could do with all their magic combined.”

  “I told you.” Hunter swept her up into his arms before she could stop him. “I’m an Immortal.” He started carrying her across the beach, and up onto the veranda.

  “Hunter . . .”

  “Later.”

  “Hunter.” Leda said the name louder as Hunter kicked open the door to the house. He needed to know—not fair if she didn’t tell him. “I can’t have sex with you.”

  “Yes, you can,” Hunter said. “It’s easy. I’ll show you.”

  Leda took a deep breath. “No, we can’t. I have death magic inside me. Buried deep. You’re too magical. If you touch it, with your life magic like it is . . . Goddess knows what it would do to you.”

  Chapter Four

  Leda’s eyes were shining with tears. Concern. For him. “Don’t worry,” he said, gentling his voice. “It won’t hurt me.”

  As Leda stared at him, not understanding, Hunter carried her into the house and made for the bedroom.

  His body hummed with need. Wild excitement had pumped through him when he’d fought Valdez’s men and again when whatever evil had come rushing at the island. He’d had to draw on every facet of his power to keep the big bad whatever from finding them, had to connect with the bones of the island and to every bit of magic he could feel in it. He’d drawn from the animals in their enclosures, the island’s wild creatures, and Leda.

  Touching Leda’s magic had been incredible, a pure sweetness like clean ocean air. Beneath it, he’d seen the taint, a darkness that stained her and tried to feed on her soul. He’d have to do something about that, but right now, he needed release.

  She was a soft armful, athletic Leda, her body honed from her work with the animals. Hunter reveled in her softness, breathing in her scent as he carried her into the bedroom.

  The windows in the sunny room stood open, letting in the warm breeze and the freshness of the ocean. Leda had painted the board walls white to capture the airiness—natural, because her magic drew its strength from the air. The sheets were rumpled from when Hunter had thrown them off, and he laid Leda on top of them.

  Hunter quickly stripped off his clothes, sand raining from them, and jumped onto the bed, landing on his side next to Leda. His cock was already stiff, stretched tight with wanting. Leda half lay, half sat up against the pillows, watching him with worried eyes.

  “Isn’t this better?” Hunter pushed her white T-shirt up and off over her head, and Leda didn’t resist. “No bullies in yachts, no demons.” He dipped his head and nuzzled between the perfect shapes of her breasts. “You smell so good.”

  “Demons?” Leda asked quickly. “What demons? Did they send that darkness?”

  Hunter raised his head. Leda’s windblown hair straggl
ed across her shoulders, her nipples dark against her white skin. He could feast all his senses on her.

  She pushed him away as he lowered himself to her again. “Hunter, what demons?”

  “Only one demon, sweetheart. An Old One probably, coming to find out who used words of power here in the middle of the ocean. I should have been more careful, but he’s gone now.”

  Explanation done. Hunter slid on top of her, loving the way her breasts pressed against his chest.

  “Hunter.”

  Her hands on his back, nails grazing his flesh, her body moving under his. He wanted this. Hunter teased her lips open, tasting her goodness and feeling something ease in his heart.

  Leda pushed at him again. “Hunter.”

  “What, sweetheart?” He nuzzled her cheek then the heat of her throat.

  “You have to tell me which demon. It’s very important.”

  “Demons are boring, love. Old Ones take several different names—arrogant shits—so even if I knew, the name probably wouldn’t mean anything to you. They pretend to be seductive and sexy, but it’s all illusion. This is real.”

  Hunter reached between them and unclasped her shorts. He remembered the peek of red panty beneath them. He wanted to taste her, if his needy cock would give him the time.

  Leda pressed insistent hands to his shoulders. “Hunter, we have to talk.”

  “Why?” he asked as he worked shorts and underwear down then knelt back to slide them from her. He dropped the shorts and red panties to the floor and leaned to her again. “What’s to talk about?”

  “You don’t want to have sex with me.”

  “I think I do.”

  She shook her head. “You’re beautiful, Hunter, and you saved Mukasa from being kidnapped, and you’re . . .” She gulped back whatever she was going to say. “But I can’t.”

  “I won’t give you a child if you don’t want, if that worries you,” Hunter said. “I can choose to, or not.” Sadness touched his heart. “Better to not.”

  “I told you, I have death magic in me.”

  “You said so, on the porch. I remember.”