Hunt the Dawn (Fatal Dreams #2)

The path through the barren woods was nearly invisible. Animal trails were more distinct. Branches reached out and slapped at him as he ran, but he didn’t duck, didn’t dodge, didn’t want to affect his running time.

He hated running, always had, but it figured in his plans so he forced himself to train, then maintain. Never in all his years of practice had he experienced that elusive runner’s high, until this moment when the pounding of his feet against the dead leaves and the muffled sound of his breathing mixed with the rhythm of the world, connecting him to plane and planet in an elemental way. He knew without even glancing at his watch that he was clocking the best run of his life.

The trail ended abruptly behind his shed. Hide in plain sight, in the bunker underneath the shed. He didn’t spare a glance at the house he’d lived in for nearly a decade. It never mattered to him; it had always been just a piece of his plan.

They’d live better when they started over. They—he and Evanee. Right now, he could walk away from it all and be content. Because of her.

He felt around in the thick grass until he found his hold and lifted the heavy panel. The seventy-five-pound door was six inches thick with a soundproof core. With the grass he’d carefully cultivated to grow over the top, the door weighed nearly a hundred pounds. Inside, he secured the steel with a series of heavy metal bars running up and down each side of the door. No one would ever get in without using explosives.

*

Evanee heard the muffled sound of the hatch being closed and then James’s soft gasp.

“Evanee…” James knelt beside her. “I knew you were going to try it.” Resignation and acceptance lowered his tone. “Why do you want to die?”

“It hurts too much to live.” She sobbed through the total destruction of her soul. James grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up to him, tucking her face between his neck and shoulder.

“Cry, Evanee. Cry right now for everything lost and stolen from you. For the life you were going to lead. For the love you were going to have. Cry it all out. All of it.”

If she thought she’d experienced grief before, she was wrong. Grief was a full-body-contact emotion. No padding. No safety gear. No escape. A cage fight. For her life.

A violent, piercing wail burst from her mouth. The sound contained her entire world of pain. Every vicious and vile thing she had ever endured was a blade protruding through her soul. Every wicked or wrong decision she’d ever made shoved the blade deeper, killing that special little spark of energy that had created and animated her, until there was no her anymore. She was gone. All that remained was the body. Bones that scraped at the confines of skin. Innards that threatened to hemorrhage. Lungs and heart that cruelly pumped life through the body.

“Evanee. Evanee.”

From far off, she heard James calling her name. She tried to ignore him, tried to maintain the numb nothingness, but he invaded the space she hid in.

“Enough.” His word commanded her, and suddenly she was staring directly into his eyes, unable to look away. “From this moment on, you are done with the past.” James’s voice contained a quiet force that bent her will to his. “You will not think about it. You will focus on being here right now—in this moment.”

…this moment, the only moment that matters. Those words, Lathan’s words, spoken to her in her dream, floated into her consciousness, carrying a heavier meaning than they had when uttered. Maybe, wherever Lathan was, he continued to watch over her. Maybe he’d sent James to her. Could he be speaking through James, trying to teach her how to go on without him? Live. Without him.

James gathered her to him again. “In this moment, you are in my arms. Feel them around you.” His arms tightened, pushing her further into him, toward the lifeline his words offered.

“Feel my skin against your face. Smell it. Taste it.” His tone was barely a whisper, but it captured her complete attention.

Despite her nose not working, she inhaled, then touched her tongue to his neck. The intimacy of her action registered, but she pushed it out of her mind.

“Feel my clothes against your bare legs.” He shifted, scraping the fabric of his pants against her. “Feel it all, Evanee. Feel the power of being right here. Right now. This is the only moment. There is no past—no pain, no sorrow. There is no future—no expectancy, no might-have-beens. There is only right now.”

“Right now.” She tested the words on her tongue. They felt good. “I’m here. I’m with you, right now.” It suddenly occurred to her that she had never really looked at James. She’d been too lost to see the path right in front of her. She eased back to see him.

The way his neck cradled his head lent him a dignified, almost regal air. His features weren’t sharply chiseled, but neither were they sunken and weak. Tender mahogany colored the irises of his eyes, highlighting his face with warmth and kindness. But there was something elusive underneath the surface of his gaze, something that made her think he was a lot older than he looked. It took her a moment to recognize it.

Pain. The stain of having endured something horrific. She herself carried that wary, scarred look. “Something bad happened to you. I can see it in your eyes. What was it?”

*

Without warning, the answer to her question shoved into his mind. He moved away from her, stood, stared at the room around them, and tried not to let those bad things from his past—things he’d never dared to think about—overwhelm him.

“I’m sorry. That was too personal.” Her voice was small and thin and laced with hurt. Rejection.

He sat down amid the mess she’d made of the kitchen and leaned his back against the cupboards. “This is personal.” He motioned back and forth between the two of them. “I’ve bathed you, wiped you, fed you. If this isn’t personal, I don’t understand the definition.”

A flush worked its way up her neck and spread across her face.

“Evanee. Come here.” He shoved a colander out of the way and patted the spot beside him.