The Immortal Highlander

Page 64

“You didn’t think Darroc would find us so quickly.”
It wasn’t a question, but he answered it anyway. “I underestimated him; I didn’t think he’d dare bring forth more Hunters. There’s no way he could have found us so quickly with only the four Hunters you saw with him in Cincinnati. But he summoned more.”
“How many more?” she said, glancing at him, eyes widening with alarm.
“You don’t want to know.” When he’d turned her in his arms to face him, he’d been looking over her shoulder. A full score of Hunters had materialized right behind her, just waiting for the moment he would turn to Darroc and stop touching her. Crammed wing to dark wing, looming over her. He’d never seen so many Hunters together in one place, outside of their Unseelie prison. Even he’d found that dark legion mildly disconcerting.
More than disconcerting. The mere thought that they might get their claws on Gabrielle had done something to the human heart inside his chest, had made it feel as if it were . . . seizing up, being squeezed in a giant, crushing fist.
“Were they behind me?” she asked warily.
She didn’t miss a thing. He nodded.
“Uh . . . more than . . . er, a dozen?”
“Yes.”
“You’re right,” she said hastily. “I don’t want to know.” Another lengthy pause. “You know . . . um, what Darroc said about you and him playing with mortals . . .”
A muscle leapt in his jaw. “What about it, Gabrielle?”
“Was it, er . . . true?”
“No,” Adam said. “Darroc lies. He was just trying to fill your head with nonsense. Cause dissension between us, do the old divide-and-conquer thing.”
“Really?” She looked at him, green-gold eyes wide, searching.
“No,” Adam said. “Really.” He met her gaze levelly, willing her to believe him, hating that the one time she was looking as though she might, he was lying. But who and what he’d once been was not who and what he was now, and he’d not be tried and convicted for ancient crimes.
She nodded slowly, then, “So,” she changed the subject briskly, “are you sure that these MacKeltars we’re going to see will believe me? Even though they won’t be able to see you?”
“Ah, ka-lyrra, I’m not sure there’s anything the MacKeltar wouldn’t believe. They’ve pretty much seen it all.”
“We’ve lost him, Darroc,” said Bastion.
Darroc stared at the Hunter in icy silence. Watching Adam with his little human had reminded him of the times long ago when they’d ridden the Wild Hunt together, when they’d hunted like brother-gods, invincible and free, ruled by nothing and no one. They’d been inseparable, known each other’s thoughts as well as their own. Mortals had been nothing more to them than lowly beasts, good for a chase, amusing to play with, to set upon each other and watch them enact their silly tragedies.
But Adam had changed. He’d been corrupted by contact with humans. And he’d turned on his own kind over one of them. On him, Darroc, who’d once favored Adam as he’d favored no other.
Adam had become protective of humans, spending most of his time among the short-lived creatures. It was inconceivable to Darroc that any sentient entity could prefer humans to the Tuatha Dé.
He’d waited for Adam to return to the fold, to indulge and get over his perverse fascination. But millennia had passed and Darroc had come to see Adam for the abomination he was.
Incensed to discover Adam dallying passionately with the human, he’d let himself and his Hunters be seen. He’d wanted his scarred face to be the last thing Adam saw as he lay dying, as he watched Darroc break his woman.
But Adam hadn’t responded to his taunts in his usual way. No, he’d reacted as if Darroc didn’t even matter, as if his taunts couldn’t touch him, as if only the safety of his pathetic little mortal was of any concern.
For the second time in as many days, Adam had used his body to shield his human and sifted out before Darroc could stop him.
And now the sin siriche du (who was no longer worthy of such a noble appellation) was out there somewhere with full knowledge that Darroc had loosed the Hunters. And Darroc knew Adam knew exactly what that meant: that he was planning to challenge the queen.
Which meant he had to find Adam again and fast. Before the clever D’Jai prince devised some way to get Aoibheal’s attention, even powerless as he was. Darroc could no longer afford the luxury of drawing out his death. When next he saw Adam Black, his demise would have to be swift. He couldn’t let his thirst for revenge jeopardize his ultimate goal.