Visions of Skyfire

Chapter 42

Rune and Teresa spent nearly a week reaching the outskirts of the state of Veracruz. They stayed away from towns and cities, camping in the desert or in valleys as the terrain changed. Veracruz was more of a tropical state, with rivers, waterfalls, jungles and rich meadows. Keeping away from the more populated coastal areas gave them plenty of places to hide. It wasn’t only the feds and witch hunters they had to be wary of. There were always humans with nothing better to do than to rob and kill as well. Which made the trip interesting, if nothing else.

He didn’t mind roughing it.

Belen only knew, Rune had lived rougher than this for most of his immortal life. But he also knew that Teresa wasn’t used to it. Still, he admired that she was game. She didn’t complain. Didn’t whine. Didn’t do anything but practice her magic whenever she had the chance. Using him as a focus, she was becoming unerringly adept with the lightning that she called with a flick of her fingers.

And she was skilled with a knife as well, he thought with an inner smile. He’d been working with her and she was a quick study, her innate grace and speed making her a star pupil. He wanted her to be familiar enough with weapons that she could defend herself if necessary. Of course, he planned to be at her side always, especially in times of danger, but he’d lived long enough to realize that sometimes a plan blows up in your face. And a matter of moments could mean the difference between life and death.

He showed her how to fight—with knife, gun and fist—to win her those few moments. All she had to do, he told her, was to stay alive until he could get to her. Then he’d kill anything that threatened her.

She believed him. Trusted him. He saw it in her eyes.

And he was humbled by it.

The effects of the Mating were racing through them, wrapping the two of them together with mystical bonds that went soul deep. Every time their bodies became one, Rune felt those silken threads winding more inextricably around them. He felt the tattoo in a nearconstant burn on his flesh and knew she felt the same. The branding mark was growing rapidly now, curling under his arm to climb up his back, and there was nothing he enjoyed more than tracing her matching tattoo with his tongue.

But there was time to practice honing Teresa’s magic as well. Rune had watched her come to grips with the incredible power inside her. Admiration filled him as he saw her work to exhaustion in an effort to remember who and what she had been. To open the memories locked within her mind. To find what they both needed to end this quest.

And as his admiration grew, so did his hunger for her. It was as if that desperate, clawing need for her had a life of its own. She moved and he wanted her. She spoke and he felt her voice slide inside him. She laughed and his unbeating heart clenched in his chest. She was so much more than she had once been, he told himself daily. Her soul and mind and heart had grown through her many incarnations.

He had seen that growth personally as he followed her through time, always near, yet never close enough. He’d felt her change, felt her progress toward the witch she needed to be—and still, that silent, doubting part of him remained.

She was throwing herself into the quest—he could admit that, but the uncertainty remained with him. He looked at her and wanted to see only the woman she was now. But other images flashed across his mind. Other faces, other times—all her. And in each of them she had turned away at the last moment. Stepped back from him when she should have believed in him.

And so now he was the one to step back. Rune wondered if they would ever truly mate if they were separated by centuries of mistrust.

So which of them, he was forced to ask himself, needed to get beyond the past? Which of them was clinging to a world that had died out centuries ago? Holding on to betrayal and pain as a way to keep a risky future at bay?

Gritting his teeth, Rune pushed that thought aside. He had reasons for feeling as he did, damn it. The fact that Teresa was becoming more and more a part of him only fed the doubts. He’d allowed her too deeply inside him once before and then the gates of hell had swung wide and he’d been left holding the proverbial bag. Damned if he’d do that again.

So he trained her, worked with her, encouraged her and had sex with her at every opportunity.

But he still didn’t trust her.

On the evening of the sixth day of their trip, Rune made camp alongside a roaring river. Trees overhung the campsite, partially hiding the small campfire he allowed them, and dissipating the smoke. It was warmer here, too, as they moved away from the cooler desert into the more humid jungle terrain.

He knew they were close to the Sanctuary, but he also knew he wouldn’t be taking Teresa there directly. He remembered all too well his reception at the Sanctuary in the Uinta Mountains of Utah. He had taken three human females there for safety and had practically had to fight his way past a phalanx of guardian witches to gain entry.

Had to admire a woman who was willing to stand up and spit in her enemy’s eye, he told himself. But whether it would be safer for them to go or not, they really didn’t have the time. As it was, nearly two weeks of their thirty days were up and they were no closer to discovering the whereabouts of Teresa’s share of the Artifact.

Not for lack of trying, though, he admitted solemnly. Teresa’s magic was blossoming. He could see it, literally, etching itself into her marrow and bone. In the way she held herself, in the more defiant tip of her chin and, most especially, in the cool glint of determination in her eyes.

Now, though, he glanced at her in the snapping firelight and saw her yawn. This constant travel was wearing on her. Even though their combined strength was growing, she was still human and being on the run was taking a toll.

Even her idiot bird wasn’t making her smile tonight. It bobbed up and down on a narrow tree limb, shrieking and whistling, but Teresa paid no attention. Rune frowned at the brightly colored creature. Every day the bird flew off on its own and hours later it would return. He kept waiting, hoping the damn thing would run into a hawk or some other wild animal, but it seemed to have an inordinate lucky streak when it came to survival.

As if sensing Rune’s thoughts, the bird bristled, ruffling its feathers before hopping up and taking to the air. It banked and wheeled overhead for a minute or two, then streaked off into the night.

“Where the hell does it go?” he murmured.

“Maybe he has a girlfriend,” Teresa mused, rummaging in the duffel bag that held their dwindling store of supplies.

Eager to forget all about the bird now that it was gone, Rune asked, “How are the supplies holding out?”

“Really well if we’re not very hungry,” she told him with a shrug. “We’ve got enough for tonight and maybe tomorrow. Then we’ll need to hit another village.”

He didn’t like it. Didn’t like taking her into rural towns and villages with him, but couldn’t really convince himself to leave her alone while he went. He did a slow turn now, letting his sharp eyes scan their surroundings. While the firelight played and danced behind him, he stared into the shadows. At the clumps of trees, the high grasses, the rocks along the river rushing past them. Anywhere an enemy might hide.

Uneasy, he felt a prickling awareness sliding along his spine. Something was out there. He was sure of it. Felt it down to his bones. His protective instincts stirred. He could grab Teresa and flash out—or, he told himself, he could make a stand and get rid of whoever was following them here and now.

Dropping to one knee in the sand, he caught Teresa’s eyes across the fire. “I’m going to make a sweep,” he said, voice low. “Make sure we’re alone out here.”

“Why? Did you see something?” she asked, fear overshadowing the fatigue in her voice.

He shot another look over his shoulder at the lush vegetation beyond their campsite.

“No,” he assured her, despite the fact that every finetuned sense he possessed was tingling. There was definitely something out there. Somewhere. No point in scaring Teresa, though, he told himself. “I just want to check. Do you have your knife?”

She reached into the pocket of the dark blue jean jacket Rune had helped her manifest. For a moment, he remembered her pride, delight shining in her eyes when he showed her how to use her magic to conjure what clothing she needed.

God, was that only a few nights ago? Time with Teresa was ticking past in a frenzy, stealing his breath, niggling at his mind. A constant reminder that their task was unfinished and that there were those out there willing to do anything to see that it remained that way.

Teresa pulled out the knife he’d given her. “I have it.”

Firelight played on her features, in her dark, sober eyes. It danced along the blade of the knife she now held with confidence after their intense training sessions. And still he hated to see her with the thing. Hated to think of her having to defend herself without him at her side.

“You won’t need it,” he told her and meant every word. He wouldn’t be so far away that he couldn’t flash back to her in an instant. Nothing was going to happen to his witch. “But it’s a good idea to keep it close.”

“I will.” Nodding, she then lifted one hand and let sparks fly, shooting up from her fingertips like blue and white showers off a sparkler. “And I’ve got my powers, too. I’m fine, Rune. Go. Check.”

He didn’t like leaving her, but better he find whoever was hunting them and take care of it away from her. And the longer he delayed in leaving, the harder it would be. It stunned him to realize just how vital she had become to him in these two weeks. She was more than his mate. She was the very air he breathed.

That realization hit him like a fist in the gut and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. He knew damn well he was still dealing with ancient crap when it came to his feelings for her. But the bottom line was, she was his.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll be here.”

As much as he wanted to stay next to her, he could better protect her by locating the threat and eliminating it. Before he could talk himself out of it, Rune called on the fire. He looked down at her through the inferno covering his body, then bowed his head and flashed out.