Charlotte Boyett-Compo- Wyndsheer (19 page)

“I heard it, too,” one of the others acknowledged. “I think it came from over ....”

A loud crash sounded behind the men and they spun around--eyes going wide enough to pop from their faces as the Guardian came lumbering toward them like a charging elephant. The men’s screams were bloodcurdling as the hideous creature bore down on them, swiping vicious, brutal talons across defenseless throats, thrusting those wickedly curved deathwielders into soft bellies and huge paws lifted one body high into the air before bringing it down upon a raised knee. The loud crack echoed sharply through the forest as the tracker’s spine was snapped in twain.

Jamie stared in horror at the destruction the creature had wrought. From his crouched position beside a large fern, he lifted his head and looked up into the blazing, terrifying gaze of the Guardian.

“They killed the old woman and have left her to hang for the buzzards to peck!” Ad Fear Liath Mor hissed.

The Lycant could barely hear the words for his ears were still ringing, his eardrums aching from the creature’s earlier bellow. The scent radiating from the big shaggy body was enough to turn Jamie’s insides to mush with fright and he wished it would ease up on the chemicals it was broadcasting.

“Where are the villagers?” Jamie asked. There would be time to mourn Elspeth’s passing when he had annihilated those who had murdered her.

“In the meeting place,” the Guardian growled, then swung its massive head to the right. Its eyes took on a sheen of pure monstrousness. “More come and I am greedy for blood!”

“Be careful!” Jamie yelled, but Ad Fear Liath Mor had disappeared in a flash of pungent gas that made the Lycant heave.

Worried now about the safety of the others villagers, knowing without a doubt Ordwell had come to Lamb’s Grove to take him back to hell, Jamie also knew the son of a bitch would not hesitate to sacrifice another innocent in his quest to get what he wanted. The Lycant knew from personal experience the depths of depravity into which the scientist would sink if the need arose. As long as Mairi was out of harm’s way and he could keep the villagers from suffering, his own safety didn’t matter.

“Look to my woman,”
he sent to the Guardian.
“Let nothing happen to her.”

All that came back to him was a tearing, grinding, ripping cacophony of mayhem and the occasional shriek of a human dying in agony. The Guardian was in a murderous frenzy and the stink of spilled blood was saturating the air.

Hurrying toward the village, Jamie skirted the closest buildings of the settlement and ran behind the communal church in a blur of speed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the swinging body of the woman who had been the only mother figure he’d ever known and felt the prickling of tears momentarily cloud his vision. He spotted the guards hidden around the scaffolding, sensed others on the roofs and inside buildings, took out two who guarded the door at the rear of the church and yanked the locked portal off its hinges, startling a woman who had just come out of the ladies’ restroom.

“Get out!” he told the woman. “Get into the forest. The Guardian will protect you!”

To her credit, the woman had not screamed but nodded crisply at his command and hurried to tell the others. By the time the villagers began trickling out of the church, the guards who had been watching the back of the building were unconscious or dead.

Jamie knew he had to lead the other guards away from the church so the villagers would have time to escape. The only way to do that was to make for the scaffolding and the pitiful corpse that was drawing him like a magnet. Pushing aside his anger and hurt and the raw sorrow lodged in his throat, he sprinted around the church and out into the open, careless now of who saw him. He put one foot on the lowest step leading up to the swaying body and felt the weapon aimed at his back. He turned and his eyes met the maddened ones of Cody Wendt.

And then the agent fired his weapon and pain such as the Lycant had never experienced tore through his body, zapped through his veins and muscles and brought him crashing off the step, his body convulsing violently.

* * * *

“The villagers escaped,” Agent Gray informed Ordwell. “And whatever the hell slaughtered our men is nowhere to be found.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ordwell said as he looked down at the man strapped to the exam table. “I have what I came here for.” He glanced over at his assistant. “Tell the driver he had to head out.”

“What about Allison?” Wendt protested. “We need to know where he’s keeping her!”

“Ah, yes,” Ordwell said. “Agent Groves.” He gave Wendt a nasty smile. “You can come back for her when you return to look for the creature.”

The agent got up in Ordwell’s face, towering over the shorter man, glaring down into his eyes with murderous intent. “I’m not leaving until I have my woman!” Wendt snarled.

One moment Wendt was standing and the next he was on the floor, his body jackknifing, shuddering almost as powerfully as the Lycant’s had.

“Get that crazed loon out of my sight,” Ordwell told his assistant who had wielded the transprobe that had brought Wendt down. “He served his purpose and I never want to lay eyes on him again. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly, sir,” his assistant agreed and motioned two guards to lift the unconscious body.

Ordwell’s attention was snared by a low groan from the metal exam table and he leaned over the Lycant. “Wake up, James,” he said softly.

Jamie’s eyelids fluttered partially open, closed, and then opened again. He strove to focus but his eyes rolled back in his head and he went under again, the signals in his brain misfiring from the massive jolt of electrical current that had careened through it. His fists clenched beneath the heavy titanium restraints clamped to his wrists then hands relaxed, his body going limp.

“That will continue off and on for a few hours, I’m afraid,” Dr. DeLayne prophesied. “I doubt he’ll be truly cognizant before nightfall.”

Snorting with irritation, Ordwell turned away from the table. “I see no reason to remain here, then. I’ll be in the limo. Keep me informed of his condition.”

DeLayne bowed respectfully and made another check of the restraints that shackled the Lycant to the table, testing the ankle, chest, and neck bands as carefully as he did those locking Jamie MacGivern’s arms.

* * * *

The Guardian watched the two humans dropping their burden into the ravine but made no move to attack them. Engorged with the blood and flesh of many victims, it was beginning to feel the lethargy that a full belly brought. Slow moving, now, and realizing it could not attack the long vehicle in which the Lycant was imprisoned without possible harm befalling Jamie, Ad Fear Liath Mor turned its attention to the broken body of the man who had been thrown into the ravine. The human lay with its neck at an angle that told the creature it had ceased to have a spirit in this world.

“But I’ll not lead you into the next,” it mumbled and called up a gateway to suck the offending body into the miasma of the Abyss where it had sent all the soldiers it had slain that day.

It had to think of his friend’s mate and as soon as the trespassers moved out, it would go to the Lycant’s lair to release her. Their villagers were safely hidden, dazed by a wash of stunning chemicals the creature had blown over them and unlikely to cause problems. It would release its hold on them once Jamie’s woman was out of the ground.

Swiveling its hooded eyes to the pathetic sight of the old woman still dangling from the scaffolding, the Guardian let out a low hiss of anger. Her soul it had already escorted into the Gateway of the Afterlife, but her body needed to be handled properly, its suitable burial of importance.

“Get Jamie back safely,” the old woman had asked at her Judgment, using the one request granted to her by the Gatherer of Souls.

A single tear slid through the rugged fur on the Guardian’s nightmarish face and it put up a huge paw to catch it, bringing the salty expression of grief to its tongue.

To Ad Fear Liath Mor, the elderly were a blessing. They had lived long lives and deserved an easy death, a respectful journey to the Afterlife where all was good and bright and happy. For an old one to be so abused, her body disrespected and desecrated, was an abomination that set the creature’s blood to boiling. Heads would roll when the Lycant was safe, and it knew whose it would go after first.

* * * *

She heard the scrape of the outside entrance opening and tensed. Jamie had never made such a noise when he had returned to the cabin and the sound sent shivers of alarm racing through her. Racking the slide back on the gun she held, she moved off to one side and leveled the weapon at the door.

“Mate of the Lycant, I am your friend.”

The words were softly spoken and seemed to come from inside her own head and not from outside the cabin. When the wooden door leading into the cabin did not open, she took a step forward, intent on blasting to hell anyone or anything that tried to enter.

“They have taken him, Mate of the Lycant.”

Grief drove straight through her and the gun wobbled in her hand. “Who are you?” she called out.

“I am Coim, the Lycant’s friend,” came the equally soft answer.

She took another step then felt complete ease settle over her. All her fear evaporated and she lowered the gun. “You are the Guardian,” she said.

“I am that one, aye,” the gentle voice answered.

“Is he…? Have they…?” Her voice broke. “Please tell me they didn’t hurt him.”

There was a long pause before the next words. When they were spoken, there was great sadness in the tone. “I fear I can not tell you such, but he lives and I will free him.”

She laid the weapon on the table and rushed to the door, throwing it wide but there was no one there. The rock entry was open, as well, and a light flickered on the tunnel.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“The wolf would not like me to show myself to you,” was the reply. “I am not ....”

“You are his friend so you are mine. Please let me see you.”

“That can not be,” the Guardian said. “My appearance would frighten you.”

She ventured out into the tunnel. “Will you lead me through the mountain, then?” she asked. “I know there are pitfalls.”

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands and I will take you past all dangers,” the Guardian told her.

Though she was more afraid of the darkness than what the man looked like, she obediently squeezed her eyes shut and extended her hands to him. The moment the warmth touched her, she smiled.

“You have very soft skin, Coim,” she said and heard a low chuckle.

“You have no idea, bantling,” was the amused return.

One moment she was standing in the tunnel and the next she was in the open air, staggered by the change in the atmospheric pressure and the speed of light travel from one place to the other. Disoriented, she opened her eyes and had an impression of great height and width moving quickly away from her, the air displaced in a heartbeat as something massive blended into the forest. The cave system was behind her, only a sheer wall showing her where the break in the face was that led to the hidden entryway.

“You should be on a track team,” she called out and once more heard laughter.

“Follow the trail,” she was told. “It will lead you back to the village.”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“After my friend.”

“But you might need my help. I can ....”

Once more something moved with lightning speed amid the towering trees and suddenly she knew she was alone. Whoever—or whatever—had been there had vanished completely.

* * * *

He woke with such pain spiking through his muscles it was all he could do to force his eyelids open. His body was wracked with bone-deep agony that throbbed and burned and fired all along his nerve endings and sped upon the highways of his arteries and veins. Spasms rippled throughout his limbs and he twitched and panted with the effort to get the agony under control. Hands clenching and unclenching, teeth grinding he stared up at a track of light above him and marveled that the only part of him that didn’t hurt, that didn’t support the pain was his back. For the first time in a long, long time there were no crippling twinges there.

“He’s awake.”

An attempt to turn his head toward the sound of the unknown voice was futile. He was suffering too much. The hard table upon which he lay bounced beneath him and he could not stop the groan of anguish that parted his lips and brought sweat to his forehead.

“You are in the trailer of a semi headed back to Draeton.”

He knew that voice all too well and when he managed to focus he was greeted by grinning face that suddenly loomed over him, he wanted to groan again--this time with the helplessness that had claimed him.

“Hello, James,” Ordwell said and put a soft hand to the Lycant’s face. “Did you think I’d forgotten you?” He stroked the fevered flesh, trailing the tips of his fingers down a clenched jaw. “A father does not forget his son. As a matter of fact, I tried to stay away from you but had to return. I wanted to be here when you woke.” He turned to a man standing beside him. “How is he doing?”

“His temperature is one hundred twelve,” that unknown voice reported. “Otherwise, all vitals are within normal ranges for his kind.”

“Yes, he is quite warm,” Ordwell agreed. “Perhaps we should start an IV, Dr. DeLayne.”

“Of course.”

Ordwell smoothed the tousled hair back from Jamie’s forehead. “How are you feeling, James? Are you in much pain?”

He refused to give the bastard the satisfaction of hearing him acknowledge the agony racing through him.

“The new transprobe had to be powerful in order to bring you down with one shot,” Ordwell told him. “There will be no lasting after affects to worry about.” He threaded his fingers through the Lycant’s thick curls then leaned over so his lips were to the bound man’s ear. He lowered his voice to a whisper only Jamie could hear. “And it can be applied any time I feel you are not behaving as I want you to behave, James. The strength of the current can be increased and the duration of the contact held longer without doing you too much damage.”