She covered nearly a half a mile before settling onto a limb against the trunk of an oak. Her gaze ran over the woods and the shadows dancing as branches swayed around her. The cool air brushed over her skin as she drew on vampire senses that still felt new and foreign to her in many ways. She’d always been a part of the forest, but as a vampire, the woods came alive in a much more intense and vivid way.
She spotted a couple of field mice scooting into their den, a coyote slinking through the trees, and behind her she could hear an owl’s claws clicking as it wrapped them around a branch. Her fingers rested against the rough bark beneath her, feeling every groove and hollow within it.
Muttered curses and the cracking of twigs drew her attention to the right as a couple dozen men and women emerged from the night. They swung their arms and hacked at sticks and thorns with their swords as they awkwardly made their way through the thicket.
It was a spectacle she would have found amusing, if she wasn’t fighting against the urge to shoot an arrow into each and every one of them. The only thing holding her back was the fact that she didn’t have enough arrows to kill them all, nor did she want to give away her location. Not yet anyway.
Didn’t mean she couldn’t take at least one out, pissing off the others and making them more cautious about following their trail. They wouldn’t turn back; she had a feeling they dreaded Sabine’s wrath if they disobeyed her far more than they dreaded being taken out by an arrow. An arrow would be quick. From what William had told her, Sabine’s torment would not be.
Pulling her bow forward, she drew an arrow from her quiver and nocked it against the bow. She examined each of their hunters before settling on the largest man in the center of the pack. Taking aim, she released the arrow, tossed the bow over her back, and fled back through the trees. She didn’t have to witness it; she knew her aim had been true and the arrow had struck him straight through his heart. The startled cries and barked commands accompanying her kill only confirmed it.
She smiled grimly as she returned to where she’d left William and Tempest. Slipping back down the tree, she dropped to the ground beside them. “One down,” she said and reclaimed her cloak from her brother. “They’ll keep following us, but they’ll be more cautious about it from now on.”
“You shouldn’t have gotten so close,” William scolded.
“I should have killed more of them,” she replied. “Next time, I will.”
She bit into her wrist again, leaving a few blood splatters on the leaves beneath her feet before continuing on once more.
***
Jack
“We shouldn’t have let her go,” Ashby said.
“We didn’t have a choice,” Jack replied.
He rested his fingers against Braith’s cool cheek. He’d never seen his brother so still before, so weak, never believed it was possible for Braith to be categorized as either of those things. He’d known it was possible Braith could die, of course he’d known it, but he’d never believed it might actually happen. He’d always been so strong, so capable.
A bomb that would have destroyed any other, had only blinded him. Braith had mastered his blindness before Aria came along and had learned to use it to his advantage as he honed every one of his other senses until they made up for his lack of sight.
Not dead. Despite the pallor of his skin, his nearly white lips and completely unmoving body, Braith was not dead. Jack could feel life within him, but it was growing weaker by the second.
“What if Aria’s wrong and that’s not Sabine out there? Or what if it is her, and Sabine didn’t actually die, but somehow faked her death? What happens if Braith doesn’t survive this?” Ashby asked. “Are you ready to be King Jericho?”
Jack tore his gaze away from Braith to glower at Ashby. “Don’t call me that.”
He’d abandoned his birth name when he’d gone to live with the rebels. It wasn’t a name he ever planned to use again. Ashby folded his arms over his chest as he gazed at him. Ashby was family, but there were times when Jack would like nothing more than to punch him in the face.
“Atticus didn’t fake his death and he came back from the dead. There is something in their blood,” he said to Ashby. “There has to be.”
“Atticus was over a thousand years old when he came back. Maybe his rising from the grave was due more to his age than his heritage.”
“Ashby,” Melinda said and rested her hand on his arm when red flashed through his eyes.
Ashby’s arms fell away from his chest. He took a minute to compose himself. “We let her go out there and we have no idea how she’ll react to his loss if he dies.”
“We had no choice,” Jack growled. “Aria was right, most of us aren’t up for travel right now and someone had to lead them away. Otherwise, we’d all be sitting ducks, trapped in this cave. We have to get the others to safety. We can’t leave them out there. That woman will destroy them if she finds them. Aria will keep it together if we lose Braith.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as she has to,” Jack said and sniffed at the air. “I can smell animals in here, bring me some blood for Braith.”
“What if he dies and she becomes like Atticus?” Ashby pressed.