| |
Iron hands gripped Hunter’s arms, pinning him before his half-brother Jarrod’s snarling face. Welts and grazes marked Hunter’s arms and torso, lingering evidence of his violent struggle to break free of the guards who’d dragged him away from Skye.
Furious at losing Skye, Jarrod had imprisoned Hunter in an old Lithus dungeon for two weeks. Hunter guessed it was either prison, or being torn apart. Skye’s departure from the ocean had made itself felt within minutes when one of their clan had dissolved in agony. Three more followed since then. Hunter desperately hoped no more would, so that Jarrod would leave Skye safe on land.
“Notwithstanding that Aaron and Traynor allowed Skye to escape,” Jarrod acidly observed, “I suppose I should be grateful they stopped you from escaping too.” The two guards shifted uncomfortably.
Jarrod surveyed the marks on Hunter’s skin. “I see you fought them to leave with her. Clearly the two of you colluded in returning to land, despite knowing that you would doom us all. But perhaps you misjudged her attachment to you? Considering she left you behind...” he sneered. Still facing Hunter, he drifted back a short distance, his blond curls a wafting halo,
A dangerous calm replaced Jarrod’s sneer, icy rage visible in his eyes. “You lied about staying in our world to protect us, so I assume you lied about your connection with Skye. That makes you dispensable.”
“You’re wrong. There was no–”
As swift as thought, Jarrod closed the distance between them, and his hand closed around Hunter’s throat, choking off his explanation. “I need no more of your lies. I will rid myself of you at last.” His steel grip tightened, his nails digging into Hunter’s skin. “All I need is Skye... And I can retrieve her myself.”
An agonised shriek erupted behind them, and Jarrod released Hunter, spinning towards the sound. One of their clan reached helpless arms towards them. Arms that writhed, shivering into atoms as the rest of her dissolved, trembling in the shifting tide before being caught by the swirling current and lifted away.
Horror and grief gripped Hunter and were visible on every face around him. Hannah had been a servant alongside Hunter, back in the ancient days of Lithus, serving his father and the other Seers. She’d been a gentle girl then and remained so as a Nemaro. She didn’t take human life as entertainment or compensation. Instead, she tried to help humans she found drowning, and comfort those she couldn’t by being a kind presence in the last bitter moments of their passing.
He knew how tortuous that was: the unedited flow of fear, memory and sorrow, washing through you like blood that stained. Her loss hurt him, as did the manner of it. She had done nothing to deserve this existence, and she didn’t deserve such a horrific death. If Jarrod struck him down in this moment, he would welcome the blow.
Clearly shaken, Jarrod turned away. When he turned to Hunter again, his face was grim. “You have one chance to tell me why you tried to leave with Skye. Choose your words carefully.”
Hunter shrugged. The truth was easy to tell. “We had drawn too close to the surface. That was my error. I was...distracted.” Jarrod’s mouth twisted, clearly understanding the distraction of Skye, but he remained silent, allowing him to continue.
“She saw a boy she knew in her mortal life, drowning. She tried to help him, and they were both pulled from the water by the boy’s companions.”
Jarrod studied Hunter. “Does she live?” His face was impassive, but his blue eyes flickered when Hunter nodded.
“I reached the surface in time to see her searching the water as the boat sped her away.”
“For you, no doubt” Jarrod sneered.
“I...don’t know. If the air filling her lungs worked on her memory the way the water did, maybe all we shared -” he broke off, pressing his hand to his chest where the aching void told him part of him still dwelt with Skye, “- nearly all we shared - has gone.”
Jarrod nodded curtly. “Then I see no point in risking our clan by destroying you for vengeance - or pleasure - if all occurred as you say.” His eyes flickered to the guards, and Aaron and Traynor released Hunter’s arms. “I also see no advantage in sending you to retrieve her. In fact, it would be foolish to entrust you with the task. I will go myself.” His gaze dared Hunter to object, but Hunter needed no dare, shaking his head before Jarrod had even finished speaking.
“No brother. That would be foolishness itself.”
Jarrod’s eyebrow rose disdainfully. “How so?”
“If she has forgotten us, perhaps you may win her trust enough to persuade her to the water’s edge. If I have fallen from her heart and her mind, you may even bend her will to yours with Mesmer, and entice her from the shore.” He stopped, allowing the desolate ache that swept through him to pass before continuing.
“If, however, she remembers you, what do you think those memories will inspire? Trust? Acquiescence? Even the vaguest recollection of your past...dealings with her, with Morgan –” he broke off at a sharp movement from Jarrod. After a politic pause, Hunter continued. “More than that, I know what she is feeling: broken, incomplete. She will want to be around me. When we are near each other, we are...whole.”
Unconsciously, his hand lingered against his chest once more. He saw Jarrod suppress a grimace, and for a moment wondered if Jarrod’s reaction to his and Skye’s connection was really disdain, or something else.
Jarrod studied Hunter’s face again, searching his eyes, no doubt for treachery. “So be it,” he said grudgingly. “Swear to me now, to all of us here, on Skye’s life, that you will bring her back within three days.” He held Hunter’s gaze. “And I make you a promise in return: if in three days you do not return with her, I will come for her, and I won’t be coming alone.”
Hunter stared back at him. Blood connected him and Jarrod. He had seen no other Nemaro but Jarrod ever leave the sea. Despite Jarrod’s implication at the café that the others could follow, Hunter had since guessed it was a feint. Had he been wrong about that? He looked at the group surrounding them, once again noting the number of human ‘guests’ that Jarrod had gathered, all of them bearing a shell token. If his blood hadn’t already been as cold as the ocean above them, it would have run like ice through Hunter’s veins as the ramifications sank in.
“We will return,” he promised, while his mind raced for alternatives.
