Chapter Five – Evaine

She’d tracked them back here. OK, she’d followed them in her car.

After taking her back to where he’d picked her up, the guy had got out of the car and disintegrated into the night. She shuddered at the thought: one minute there, the next gone. Eva was certain he’d simply walked away, but there was something about him that gave her the creeps. Hell, there was something about this whole thing that gave her the creeps.

Her old life, the one where she flitted from job to job, never able to settle, never fitting in, was a distant memory. Even if she went back to it, she would never feel safe again, never know who was lurking in the night. Or what was lurking in the night.

Such as a man who could change from a man to a bear on his front steps. Bile rose up in her throat. How was she supposed to tackle him? And tackle him she must, if she was going to find out the whereabouts of the Dragon’s Tear.

What if he doesn’t tell? She blocked that thought out. If she had to cut him a little, she’d do it. Or, her sixth sense would make her do it. Bile rose once more, only this time it didn’t go back down, and she retched, wiping her mouth quickly, and looking up to see if he’d heard.

No. The bear was moving away from her, he’d reached the trees and was heading deeper into them; she’d have to move quickly to catch him. Or should she try for the thin, pale man who had just left? But he hadn’t been part of the group who had been at the gully when she’d returned, and he wasn’t Gareth Hollingsworth. Eva didn’t want to torture an innocent man.

None of them are innocent, a voice in her head said firmly.

“OK, enough with the voices,” she whispered loudly. Damn it, she was going crazy. This voice was new, different from the one who had first spoken to her. It was harsher, crueler. And totally not a real person, she should not be thinking of them in terms of personas. That was one sure way to madness.

Slipping into the undergrowth, she headed on a diagonal trajectory, hoping to intercept the bear, unless he was moving too fast. He wasn’t, she was in luck, he’d stopped by a stream to drink. Perfect, get him while he was preoccupied.

Wait. How exactly do you stop a bear and make him talk? Her sixth sense kicked in and propelled her forward; she’d brought the sword with her, and held it out as if about to attack. He didn’t put up a fight as she placed it under his jugular. Bears bled the same as men, and had the same sense of self-preservation, it seemed.

He looked up at her, and then a frisson of electricity filled the air, knocking her off guard, while before her eyes the bear shifted out of focus. Eva stepped back, the sword tip lowered, leaving her open to attack. She didn’t notice: her full attention was fixed on the man before her, who had appeared as if by magic. Eva held down the bile in her throat, needing to look as if she knew what she was doing.

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” he asked. He being six-foot-four of lean, mean muscle, with shoulder-length dirty blond hair, and eyes that looked through her, right into her soul. She felt naked and her hand went to her shirt, gathering it around her, but it did no good.

“Do you want me to slice or dice first?” she asked, the tip pointing up to his neck. Her sixth sense gave her a sense of confidence, but it was foreign, not hers, and her hand trembled. That should have been his cue to make a grab for the hilt and knock her to the ground. However, he didn’t move, just drank her in.

“You have me?” he said, and raised his hands. Damn it, was he mocking her?

“Listen, you know why I’m here…”

“The Dragon’s Tear.”

“And you know where it is…”

“A druid named Gareth has it. He also has a big degetty who will rip you limb from limb. But you’ve already met him, haven’t you?” Dirty Blond took a step toward her. “How exactly did you get away from them?”

“Your friend didn’t tell you?” Eva asked.

He winced, a tiny movement, but enough to tell her they were not friends. That was a start. “No, he was too busy showing me the shiny stone. What exactly do you need it for?”

“What do you care?”

“Try me? You’ve got me at a disadvantage.” He leaned forward, his neck dangerously close to the tip of the sword, and it took all her willpower not to take a step back. She didn’t want to hurt him. “Why did you go after the Dragon’s Tear?

He’s a shifter, he’s one of those we were born to hunt, the voice told her.

“Someone has captured my mother, and they will trade her for the Dragon’s Tear.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked, his eyes studying her again, this time the surface her, not the deep-within-her-soul her. “As a Night Hunter, I would have thought you could simply attack whoever took your mother, and get her back.”

She frowned. “A what?” Eva was not good at interrogation, it seemed; even with her sixth sense, she was giving away more than she was getting.

“You don’t know what you are?” he accused.

“I know exactly what I am. I just don’t call myself a Night Hunter.”

“Then what do you call yourself?”

A bank clerk. “Right now, I call myself in charge. So, spill. Before I start chopping pieces off.”

He laughed, long, low, and sexy. “Go for it. Which part first?” His eyes narrowed, and she saw the danger there: he would have the sword out of her hand before she had moved it an inch.

“Listen. You told me who has it, just tell me where he is.”

“No, you’ll get yourself killed,” Dirty Blond said.

“And what do you care?” she asked.

“A lot, believe me.” He moved then, the flat of his right hand, knocking the sword away, his left hand making a grab for her. Her sixth sense kicked in. She raised her leg, pulling it back, before punching it out hard, aiming for his abdomen. He slid to the side, her foot grazing his hip. A smile crossed his face, as if he were enjoying himself.

She lifted the sword, and took a swipe at him, but before he could bat it away, she feinted and jabbed at his stomach. He sprang away, lighter on his feet than she would have thought, considering his size. Eva went after him, harrying him, keeping him on the defensive, but this was all new to her, and she could feel herself tiring.

“Just tell me,” she said.

“No. Put your sword down, come back to the house, and let me help you.”

“And you want me to trust you, just like that?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m not the one who took your mom. I’m not the bad guy.”

He had a point, but why would he help her? She was a stranger to him. “And you are going to give me the Dragon’s Tear and let me hand it over to the men who took her? I’m sorry, weren’t you the people who stole it from me in the first place? So why exactly should I trust you now?”

“Because I’m the only hope you have of getting the Dragon’s Tear back.”

“You sound like your friend Gareth. Pretending to help save me while stealing from me. Is that what you are, thieves?”

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Damn, we wondered how he’d got the Dragon’s Tear from you. Now we know, the only magic he used was parlor tricks, a sleight of hand.”

“He set his degetty on me, let it nearly strangle me, and then fought it off. Like a true hero.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, and her anger simmered. If the jerk hadn’t stolen it from her, she wouldn’t be here now talking to Dirty Blond, she would be having a good heart-to-heart with her mom. The woman who abandoned me.

“That sounds like Gareth.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Eva took a step forward. “You offered to help. Does that mean you will help me steal back the Dragon’s Tear? Or are you stalling?”

He sighed and looked away. “I’m not stalling. It’s probably too late. Gareth will have given it to the Council. Once they have it, I couldn’t get it back.”

“Then I’ll go on my own. This Council shouldn’t be too hard to find,” She met his eyes, and wanted to drown in them as they softened in pity. She didn’t need pity, she needed someone who was willing to help her. She should have known better than to expect that; all her life she had been alone. Never settled, never accepted.

Eva looked away, not wanting him to see the emptiness inside her. She didn’t need more of his pity. “Why am I even doing this?” she asked aloud, and her shoulders slumped.

Because she holds the answers, the voice reminded her.

“And so do you,” she replied.

“And so do I what?” Dirty Blond asked.

She turned back toward him and dropped the tip of the sword, pointing it to the ground. “Nothing.” She shook her head. “Are you going to warn them I’m coming?”

“Nope.” He closed the space between them. “Because you aren’t going.”

“I am,” she said defiantly. “I need it, I need answers.”

“Answers to what?” he asked, and then he lifted her hand and touched her cheek, static electricity passing between them, but she didn’t pull back. It was like an electrical circuit, they completed each other.

In her head, her sixth sense hissed and growled, like a cornered animal. Eva ignored it; she was tired of listening to it. Tired of being told what to do, while it kept its secrets to itself. Dirty Blond offered her sanctuary, it was in his eyes as he gazed at his fingertips stroking her skin, and she didn’t need to ask if he felt it too.

He dropped his hand to his side, with some reluctance. “You didn’t answer me.”

“What was the question?” He fogged her brain, made her vulnerable. And she wanted to be vulnerable, to let her guard down and let him in. Her sixth sense thrashed around in rage at that thought.

He is what we fight, he is what your ancestors fought. If you give in to him, you will betray them all.

Did she care? He stepped away from her, and she felt the loss of his body heat, of his closeness. She’d always longed to be close to someone, to be a part of a family, a real family.

Your mother is your real family, this is just some shifter, who wants to bend you to his will. He is the enemy, her sixth sense shouted. Wake up, before you lose yourself to him and his monstrous ways.

What monstrous ways? He changed into a bear, what was wrong with that?

You are a Night Hunter, sworn to take down any unnatural creature. Vampire, degetty, shifter, they are all unnatural, all inhuman. They are yours to slay. Pick up the sword, strike him down. Now while his defenses are down. While he is under your spell.

What spell?

Love, lust, whatever these creatures feel. You are his mate, I see it now, I see it in his eyes. He won’t hurt you, he can’t hurt you. Pick up the sword, put it through his heart.

He can’t hurt me?

No, you are everything to him. He would tear down a mountain for you.

Eva looked at the man before her. He had to help her. Couldn’t hurt her.

“They have my mother. They want the Dragon’s Tear; in return, they will release her.” She took a firm grip on the sword and then said, “I’m going to get that Dragon’s Tear. There is nothing you can do to stop me.”

He shook his head. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“No. But then I’ve never had anything to be stubborn over.” She moved close to him, using her body to tease him, her breath caressing his skin as she whispered in his ear. “Will you help me?”

He turned his head, their lips only inches away. He ran his tongue over his lips, inching forward, wanting to taste her lips. He was mesmerized by her, and she used it to her advantage. “Say yes.”

“Yes.” He leaned in closer. “I give you my word and we can seal it with a kiss.”

She slipped her hand in his. “Let’s shake on it instead.”

He chuckled as he took her hand, pulling back, his pupils dilated as he looked at her. “I’ll have that kiss before this is over.”

“We’ll see,” she said. Although something told her—and it wasn’t her sixth sense, which had gone silent—that he was right. Before this was over, she would owe him more than a kiss. Much more.