Darkness Chosen: Into The Shadow Part 29

"A sled." He couldnat believe his clever girl.

"Get on," she said.

He almost took the front, then realized it was her idea. He took the back. "How did you think to do this?" He tucked his snowshoes under his arm.

"Youave never built one?"

"No. We always bought them at Wally-world. "

She got on the front. "My dad didnat see the sense in play, so my toys always had a practical purpose."

The old son of a b.i.t.c.h, indeed.

She continued, "That meant I had to get innovative. I got pretty good at picking out the appropriate tree anda""

They pushed off. The bark was rough on the bottom, and at first it was slow, but as the snow packed on underneath they moved faster and faster. And, Warlord quickly realized, they couldnat steer. By the time they reached the bottom they were flyinga"flying toward the pile of boulders and downed trees left by a rockfall. He was horrified, terrified, wondering what maggot had suggested he do the gentlemanly thing and let Karen sit in front . . . when a splinter flew past his cheek. Another, and then half the sled. The whole thing disintegrated beneath them and they came to a skidding stop.

While he sat there in shock in the snow, Karen stood and dusted off her seat. "I was starting to wonder if that would break apart in time." She offered her hand. "We should get out of here."

He jerked his gaze toward the sky.

A single brown hawk circled high above them. Another joined him.

"Theyave nailed us. Letas go."

The next two miles were a h.e.l.l of haste and worry. The wind blew in their faces, freezing their exposed skin and making the going hard. Their trip on the sled had cracked one of Karenas snowshoes. They abandoned them. Every fifteen minutes he made her drink water and eat a few bites, but they never slowed. Every moment he strained to hear the sound of paws racing across the snow. "Weare getting close," he said.

Before she could answer, a wolf howled half a mile behind them.

The color drained from her face.

He pointed. "Run straight ahead."

She watched him shed his coat, his hat, every bulky bit of clothing, stripping down until he should be shivering. Yet he burned with the heat of battle. "What are you going to do?"

"Fight the back guard. When you get to the top of the cliffa""

"A cliff?" Her eyes accused him. "Thatas your defensible ground?"

He handed her her rappelling equipment. "Thereas a cave two-thirds of the way down. Get in it." Grabbing her, he kissed her with all the love and desperation in his heart. "Whatever you do, stay safe. I canat bear the thought of a world without you."

Chapter Thirty-one.

Karen recognized a good-bye kiss when she received one.

Warlord pushed her away.

She grabbed him by the front of his thin T-shirt and pulled him back. She kissed him hard, branding him with her taste. "Be safe yourself. Fight well." Turning, she sprinted down the hill . . . leaving her love behind.

h.e.l.l of a time to decide that.

"A cliff," she muttered. "Good thinking, Warlord." Of course, from a purely strategic point of view, it was good thinking.

She could see the long stretch of ground ahead, dotted with giant incense cedars, then the break in the earth where the cliff fell away. If she and Warlord reached the bottom first, as Innokenti and his men came over the cliff they could pick them off. But Warlord wasnat with her, the bottom was a long way down, and how did he think she was going to rappel when the only time shead ever rappelled was when her father had forced her into a harness and flung her bodily off a training wall. She walked faster, her gaze on the edge of that cliff. If she concentrated very hard on the memory of Jackson Sonnet yelling at her, "Get your a.s.s over, Karen!" that might get her in positiona"

A man stepped out from behind a tree and in front of her.

A Varinski.

She recognized him by his height, his strength . . . the red glow deep in his eyes.

In one smooth motion she brought her pistol out of her holster.

He put his hands up. "Iam Rurik!"

She didnat lower the pistol.

"Rurik Wilder."

"You might be." Because he looked a little like Warlord, but with brown hair.

"Did he tell you about me?" The red glow faded a little, and the guy who called himself Rurik tried to look meek.

It didnat work.

"He told me about you." This guy was dressed for combat, too, in a minimum of clothing.

"Jashaas going to help Adrik."

Up the hill she heard a shot, then the shriek of a bird as it spiraled downward.

The supposed brother tensed, and the red glow intensified.

"Why arenat you helping Adrik?" she asked coldly.

"Because Jasha put me here to help you."

"You are Adrikas brother." She put her pistol away.

"Yeah." He frowned. "What convinced you?"

"You think Iam a girl, and you want to protect me. Instead, why donat you give me some credit? Go help your brothers."

"You sound like my wife," he said in shock.

"She must be a remarkable woman."

"Thatas one way to describe her," he mumbled.

She started downhill.

When she looked back he was gone.

She ran the last steps to the top of the cliff, ran so quickly she almost skidded offa"which would have solved the problem of protecting her, for the cliff was seventy-five feet high, with great boulders at the base. Solved the problem, yes, but would have ruined her day.

Behind her, she heard another shot, a human scream, and the deep-throated howl of a wolf.

Stupid to know that battle was joined, that her man and his brothers were fighting for their lives, and hers, and yet her mouth was dry and her hands shook as she hooked herself into the harness and fastened the rope to a tree.

Shouldnat the bright, new, shiny fears trump the old, silly, worthless fears?

In the logical part of her mind, she noted that the cliff was sheer granite, with almost no handholds and no way to save herself if she fell. Which was ridiculous, because she had tested the rope. She hoped she managed to keep her eyes open long enough to find the cave. As she inched her way over the edge of the cliffa"

"Go! Go! Go!" She heard Warlord yelling, and looked up to see him racing toward her. "Jasha and Rurik are holding them, but Innokenti split the group. Theyave found a way down. Weare surrounded!" He climbed into the harness and fastened his rope to a rock. "Iam your defense in the cave."

She found she was over the edge, in the L shape, her feet firmly planted on the cliff face. She launched herself with a jump, let the rope play out, launched herself again. Her heart thrummed frantically. Her hands sweated. But she could do this. She could definitely do this. "Iam fine," she yelled. "Hurry!"

Below them someone gave a deep, ululating war cry. The hair rose on the back of her head.

Her hand slipped. She froze. She looked down. Five Varinskis swarmed out of the woods.

One had a face like a Neanderthal, a body like a tank, and wore machine bolts for earrings. He looked up at hera"and grinned.

Innokenti.

Midair, Warlord pa.s.sed her, speeding down the rope face-first, shooting with cool marksmanship.

No way would she let him be braver than she was; perhaps Jackson Sonnet wasnat really her father, but head imbued her with his compet.i.tive spirit. She leaped as hard as she could.

At the top of the cliff she heard shots, doglike growls, and the sounds of battle.

Below, Innokenti gestured to his men. They spread out.

One took wing as an eagle.

Innokenti staggered back as one of Warlordas bullets. .h.i.t him in the chest, then straightened again.

Kevlar vest, she thought, and hoped it was true.

He took up a position, legs braced. He lifted his pistol, took aim, and shot.

Warlord collapsed. Began to fall. Brought himself up. Collapsed again. Blood covered his forearm, and he struggled to control his descent.

Infuriated, Karen screamed like a banshee. "a.s.shole. Innokenti, you a.s.shole!"

Warlord struggled to stay in place.

She leaped toward him. Realized the futility. Vaulted toward the cave.

She was rappelling like a pro.

Below her Innokenti laughed, great, booming roars of amus.e.m.e.nt.

Hail struck her face. No, not haila"bullets riddled the cliff around her, and rock chips blasted her.

"Hang on," she screamed at Warlord.

She jumped hard enough to land in the cave. Stripped off her coat. Freed her pistol. Stepped out on the ledge.

Warlord struggled with the ropes. If he lost tension, he would fall right into Innokentias arms.

Innokenti aimed at Warlord.

The eagle dive-bombed toward her, cruel eyes fixed, talons out.

She looked down the sights at Innokenti. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

And a blast blew the bird out of the air.

Feathers flew. The eagle screamed in pain and rage.

Jackson Sonnet stepped out of the forest below, a .30-06 rifle against his shoulder. "Take that!" he shouted. "No oneas going to hurt my G.o.dd.a.m.n daughter."

Chapter Thirty-two.

Karen shot as Innokenti turned to wave his men at Jackson. The bullet blasted a divot in the side of Varinskias neck.

Innokenti fell, blood pumping from the wound.

The wolf pack charged Jackson.

"Daddy!" Karen screamed.

Jackson shot one, smacked another in the head with the b.u.t.t of his gun, and as he fell beneath the onslaught, she saw his hunting knife flash.

The animals squealed, not deada"impossible, for Jackson might be an old son of a b.i.t.c.h, but he wasnat a demon. But head hurt them.