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JADE GOT READY FOR bed and then tossed and turned, uncomfortable and tense. She only got snatches of rest here and there, short, shallow minutes of disturbed sleep.
Usually, she slept like a rock, so tired and worn out from mining that she fell into a dreamless sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and woke in the morning. But tonight the blankets were too hot and uncovered, she was too cold. It was too quiet, yet the nighttime sounds outside her camper were too loud, the owls and coyotes and random unidentifiable noises.
Her brain was too loud as well. Her noisy thoughts circled around with all the things she needed to do, with worry over how this mining season would go. And Micah. He slept only a short walk from her camper. She’d be sharing her camping space, her temporary residence for the next few months, with a stranger. A handsome, distracting stranger.
Jade sighed into the dark and then forced herself to close her eyes again, to breathe evenly. To keep her mind on mundane topics to bore herself to sleep.
It seemed to have worked for a time, but suddenly Jade sat up, breathing hard and listening hard past her fast breaths.
Why?
Her ears finally caught up to her brain, and all the sounds of the nighttime woods from earlier were silent now. Eerily so, a smothering silence in their place.
A hint of something else drifted in from the open windows with the crisp night air. A burning smell. Not a campfire or a forest fire, something... unnatural.
Plastic?
Could it be Micah, and why? As the smell grew stronger, Jade threw on her robe and opened her camper door, drawing the fabric close around her. But Micah wasn’t anywhere, his tent and the fire-pit dark. The vehicles were fine.
No one and nothing seemed to be out there, but there was a feeling in the air that made her want to slam the door shut and hide under the covers.
Not one to let her imagination run away with her, she stepped down the short stairs onto the cold ground, curling her toes against it as she looked around. Burning plastic meant people, somewhere. Too close for comfort, and suspicious, when there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else out here.
Could it be the other prospector, the one who’d hired Micah, perhaps rustic camping out in the woods? Maybe they didn’t put their fire out, or they were staying up late, or something.
But the moonlight should have been enough to highlight smoke in the air, and Jade saw none.
Unsure, Jade stood there another minute.
Movement caught in the corner of her vision made her turn her head as Micah ripped open the door of his tent and came out barefoot, shirtless. And carrying a sword.
The traitorous moonlight seemed to trace every muscle in silvery light, and for just a second, her breath caught in her chest.
He turned to her, voice deep and grating from sleep, said, “Go back inside. Lock the door. Don’t come out until you hear me return.” He grasped the sword with both hands, and she the hilt creaked as his hands tightened. “If I’m not back in half an hour, take your gun and drive out of here.”
She’d hired a security guard with a sword. Sword may have been too generous, maybe it was just a long knife. Either way, it too, looked beautifully deadly in the moonlight.
“Jade.”
She swallowed and nodded, backing into her camper as he ran with silent footsteps into the woods. Still barefoot.
Door locked, windows closed, Jade sat on her bed with the gun on her lap. What kind of danger lurked out there? Micah was here to guard the place from something. Was it claim jumpers like she’d assumed, or something else? And if it was, what kind of claim jumpers were these?
The killing kind?
Most people didn’t kill for minerals unless it was in Third World countries. That was Old West stuff. Nowadays, claim jumpers simply came when you weren’t there and took what they wanted.
But something was wrong here. The danger in the air, in her blood, the way Micah reacted. Hell, the presence of a guy like him in the first place.
What was going on? And where was he? And why a sword, and not a gun?
Jade grabbed her phone and turned the screen on to check the time. Only twenty minutes had passed, but it felt like more than that.
What if he didn’t come back within the time limit? Would she really get in her truck and drive out of here like he’d told her to?
She wasn’t stupid, she absolutely would. No one would scare her off her claim, but she wouldn’t risk her life, either. If someone was strong enough to take out Micah, she wouldn’t stand a chance. But you could bet your ass she’d be back here with the daylight, an army of authorities with her.
No one could have her claim, no one could have her gems. Her mother’s gems.
Hands cramping from holding the gun and holster, she set them down beside her truck keys and flexed her fingers, working out the ache quickly.
As she did, the night sounds returned in a rush. As if she’d been deaf and could now hear, the animals and the wind and the shifting trees now seemed too loud. And she heard other sounds outside of her camper as well, that she couldn’t be sure of. The smell was gone, too.
Creeping toward the door, clenching the gun, she made a quick plan. She’d throw open the door and run for her truck. When she got in, she’d lock the door and haul ass out of here. And then call the police, the sheriff, the freaking National Guard, as soon as she got to civilization.
Jade tried to control her breaths as she crept closer to the door, but they stacked up in her throat, one on top of another like bricks, and none of them deep enough.
Hands shaking, she reached out to the door, counting in her head to work up the nerve. When she got to ten, she’d unlock it and run.
At ten, she decided to keep going to thirty, and then do it.
At twenty-eight, body tensing, breath held, ready to run for it, she heard her name.
“Jade. It’s Micah.”
Jade tossed her head back and gulped a few breaths before she set the gun down and opened the door.
He stood there, just as he’d left, an aura of moonlight and danger around him.
“Is everything okay? What happened?”
“Everything is fine.” He flipped the sword in one hand. “You’re safe.”
Unsure, Jade looked down at the blade. No blood on it. That was a good thing, right?
“What was it? Claim jumpers? Or something else?”
He just stayed silent, staring at her, jaw tight.
Fine, he wouldn’t tell her. But there was one thing she did want to know. “Is it safe now?”
“As long as I’m here. If I’m not, then no.” With no other elaboration, he turned and walked back to his tent.
Jade took a deep breath of the cold night air.
She might not be safe here alone, but she couldn’t leave. Too much depended on this mining season.
Jade ducked back inside her camper, glad for the man across the clearing for the first time.
She was no damsel in distress, but she was not stupid either. She would need to hire security, that much was clear. That was better than having to face the dangers here alone. And better than ever being forced to use her gun to protect herself.
Jade crawled back into bed, door firmly locked and the gun close by. But she was no longer anxious and wound up. The night sounds were comforting now, the way they had been in her childhood. So was the presence of the man across the clearing, but her feelings toward him were decidedly not childish.
All she could think about was that moment when Micah emerged from his tent; strong, confident, lethal. Beautiful.
Listening to the night and her heartbeat, Jade fell into a deep, dreamless sleep until the sunrise woke her.
––––––––
WHEN MICAH AWOKE TO the stink of Chaolt and the buzz in his brain, he jumped out of bed and grabbed his weapon. Throwing the tent door open, he saw Jade standing there.
He wanted to go to her and drain her right then, until she was empty of her dangerous power, despite all his thoughts to the contrary.
Could she not smell the evil? Feel the oppressive weight of the air?
Even buried, even weak, her senses must be warning her of the threat, and yet there she was, facing down the dark without knowing the true danger of it.
He told her to lock herself inside and to leave if he didn’t return. But if he didn’t, she didn’t stand much of a chance alone.
He slipped into the darkness under the trees, using his powers to mute his footsteps on the soil, and looked back toward Jade, seeing only the yellow glow of her light through the trees. She’d gone inside as he’d commanded, but it wasn’t enough. The thin metal walls of her camper would not stop the Chaolt. Could not stop Chaos.
Since he could not pinpoint exactly how many enemies there were or where they were, how could he ensure Jade’s safety at camp in case he missed one? Or in case there were too many for him to fight at one time?
He must protect her, and he couldn’t be two places at once.
Somewhere in the hills above him were one or more Chaolt, and the closer he got to them, the more their proximity would leach his powers away, nulling them out.
Hurrying, cursing under his breath, he backtracked until the power drain was minimal. And then with a deep breath, he released his Earth energy in a thin line, circling the camp. Fist clenched, he twisted his arm, and the line of power split the soil and the stones, creating a deep crack. Then he widened it as quietly as he could until there was a gaping chasm encircling the camp and Jade, separating him from her, but protecting her from any Chaolt who might dare to come after her.
It was a risk because if she had to get into her truck and leave, the chasm would stop her. But it would also prevent the enemy from getting to her, and that was more important.
Satisfied, Micah turned back up the hill, his eyes and powers searching the dark before the null affected his powers, feeling the rise and fall of the land, the boulders and the cracks and pits that were dangerous to a mortal on foot. He mentally plotted his course up the mountain, to the portal. The enemy had either come out of it or were heading for it. Either way, that’s where he’d find them.
He followed the course he’d mapped out until he came to the tree line where they ceased to grow. He stood there a moment, eyes scouring the irregular shadows caused by boulders and moonlight.
Nothing moved.
Leaving cover, he darted across the mountainside. When the soles of his feet began to sting from rough edges of the rocks, he knew he was close.
From behind a boulder, he peered in the direction of the portal. And saw what he was searching for; a single Chaolt, zigzagging across the steep and unstable terrain toward the cave.
He wouldn’t make it.
Sword at the ready, Micah slipped out from behind his boulder and charged.
The Chaolt heard him, saw him coming, and then began to scramble away in the opposite direction, slipping and scraping down the mountain as he ran, back toward the trees. Back toward the campsite.
But even with his powers nulled out, Micah knew the landscape, knew the mountain, and followed him safely down into the trees.
In the dappled moonlight, Micah slipped from shadow to shadow, using his human senses to track the Chaolt. Sight, sound, scent. It ran, trying to evade him by hiding behind trees, trailing it’s fetid scent through the nighttime forest that otherwise smelled damp and fresh.
But they were getting closer to camp, and Micah had had enough.
Time to finish this.
Micah surged toward the enemy, leg muscles straining for more speed and distance. He closed the gap. He launched a fist into the warped face of his enemy, knocking him backward and almost pinning him to the ground with the force of his blow. But it didn’t stay down.
The Chaolt pivoted then, a flash of moonlight warning Micah about the blade, and he leaned back just in time to keep it from getting buried in his abdomen, but the cold sting meant it had still touched flesh.
It didn’t matter, though. Pain didn’t matter. When this Chaolt was dead, his powers would return and he would heal quickly.
He lunged, knocking the enemy’s blade from his hand, while burying his own blade deep, scraping across bone.
He pulled his sword free with a push of his foot against his adversary’s chest, and he crumpled, falling backward into the chasm he’d made earlier.
Micah knelt at the edge of gulch, and it was then he realized his error. The Chaolt was mortally wounded, but not dead.
He’d landed on his back somewhere down in the darkness. Micah could see his outline, could hear him groaning, moving.
Killing was a necessity of war. When two forces waged a battle against one another, the only way to triumph was to reduce the other’s numbers until they were no longer a threat. Killing Chaolt didn’t bother him.
But suffering did. Anyone’s and any thing’s.
Whether or not the Chaolt was his enemy, whether or not it had a soul, the body, the vessel, moaned in pain.
If Micah could reach him, he’d end his suffering quickly with his sword. Or if he had his powers, he’d do it that way, but either way, he’d make it quick.
Instead, he was forced to wait for the creature to die and his powers to return before he could reach him or do anything else.
He sang a song quietly, waiting. Not that the Chaolt needed comfort, or even cared. The song was more for himself. They were lower and simpler than wild animals, chaos personified. A shell of a body with no soul or mind of its own. They only passed for human to other humans who were too oblivious or too removed from their Elemental beginnings to see the truth. They dissolved into dust when their bodies died, the bonds that held them to the mortal world severed.
But even so, he couldn’t leave until it was done, wondering if all of that was true. Hoping it was.
And when it was over, and his Earth energy returned with a rush, Micah stood and closed the chasm. Black dust, all that was left of his adversary, rose into the moonlight as the edges came together. He joined the sides of the gulch together so closely, so perfectly, that no sign of it remained.
And then he returned to Jade, his torn feet and the gash on his side already healing as he reached her camper. Seeing her again, nervous but safe, was enough to remind him of the purpose and importance of everything that had happened.
Now, alone in his tent again, he smoothed a cloth down his sword, removing the foul black dust that dulled the shine of his blade. Hunger gnawed in his stomach from using his powers, but he didn’t feel like eating, the burning plastic smell of the dust coating everything turning his stomach. He put down his blade and opened one of his bars, anyway. His powers, his body, must always be at one hundred percent in case either were needed to fight. To protect.
And until he could get Jade drained, they would be. Because he was right. Something kept her here despite his warnings of danger, despite what her senses had to be telling her. If he drained her all at once, she would go right back to mining tomorrow, risking her life.
In the morning, he would start his campaign to drain her. Somehow, he’d have to find a way to be close to her, to touch her often.
The pleasurable feeling that thought caused, low in his gut, told him there was more danger to Jade being here than he’d been aware of. It wasn’t just the Chaolt.
He hadn’t looked forward to another’s company in a long, long time. And that was a risk he wasn’t prepared for.