Collateral Damage (24 page)

You'll have to run to catch up to Vince, but if you don't stop you might be able to find him
before they do. With you as his eyes and a weapon in his hands, he has a better chance of
surviving the night. Once you get back here, the game is over."

The melting heat within cooled as my mind raced. "But we have to make it back before
dawn, don't we?"

"I don't see that happening."

"But the sun—"

"Will kill him. And the hunting party if they're out in the open. They have shelter, and
I'm sure Vince will find some." He smiled at me then, his eyes bright. "Sounds fun, doesn't it?"

I folded my arms over my chest and clenched my jaw against the pleasure that jolted up
from the peaks of my throbbing nipples. "You sure you want to give me a weapon?"

"I don't see why not." He laughed and brought me to a table laid out with supplies. "Pick
four things."

What I'd chosen had surprised him. I'd picked a gun with four special bullets designed to kill his kind, a machete, a water bottle, and a flask of whiskey. He'd hinted that I might need the tent and rations—maybe the compass?

"I'm good." I fiddled with the gun, seriously considering using it on him.

"You're not fast enough, my dear." He patted my cheek and then escorted me to the front
door. "Unless you want to waste the bullets, I suggest you let Vince handle shooting them. He's
quick, and he knows how to use it."

As I reached a clearing, I dropped the sack and opened the flap. I'd ignored Cyrus' suggestions so far, tracking one of the three hunting parties rather than circling around them. Periodically, I crossed the river when the forest thinned so I wouldn't be spotted—and to let the cold water soothe me—but otherwise I stayed just close enough to take advantage of any opportunity to pick one of them off. Fine, I might not be a master markswoman, but I was pretty sure I could hit a straggling drunk from close range.

And about half of the party I followed fit the description.

Across the clearing, a woman and a man fell into the dirt, giggling and rolling around, tearing at each other's clothes. As the woman rose on top, the man held up his hand and turned his head to vomit.

"Oh, that's attractive," the woman said, holding the front of her unbuttoned, white shirt together as she shoved off him. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you now?"

The man unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick. "Exactly what you'd planned to. Just don't kiss me."

"You're wasted. I'd be better off waiting until we catch Vince. The man is hung like a fucking horse!" But even as she spoke, she threw her shirt aside and then stripped off her black cargo pants. She straddled him, moaning as she took him inside her. "If only I wasn't so goddamn horny! That shit Cyrus gave us is potent!"

I fished the gun out and smiled. So, I wasn't the only one hampered by desire.

Had Cyrus given his little lust cocktail to them all?

My core clenched as I held up the gun and sighted the pair. She rode him hard and fast, and my hands shook as I envisioned myself pushing her off him and . . . .

I clenched my battered hand and let the pain take over.
Get closer.

Taking in slow, steadying breath, I inched forward, keeping low, measuring each silent step. My finger a hair from the trigger. I went over my crazy plan.

Kill one, and the rest will realize they're being hunted as well. That should slow them
down. If you're quick, you might get something useful off the bodies.

The woman threw her head back as she came. The man latched onto her hips and slammed her down on him. Their erotic screams pierced the night.

I leveled the gun.

Pulled the trigger.

Click.

"Did you hear that?" The woman lifted her head and looked right at me.

Shit, the safety!
I fumbled with the gun, found the safety latch, and flicked it up.

The woman opened her mouth wide just as I squeezed.

The gun jerked in my hands. Blood erupted from her stomach. She grunted and folded, arms wrapped tight over the wound.

I stared as the man heaved her aside and sluggishly pushed to his feet. She wasn't dead. She was supposed to be dead. Cyrus said the bullets worked no matter where they hit.

And I'd completely missed the man.

So shoot him!
Bringing the gun to eyelevel, I sighted him just as he pulled himself together enough to stand straight. Rushing forward, I pulled the trigger twice. The first shot went wide, but the other ripped a chunk out of the man's head. I skidded to a stop as he fell sideways onto the woman. She scrambled away from him, screaming, screaming . . . .

Not wanting to waste any more bullets, I grabbed a rock and lunged. She tackled me just as the rock cracked into her skull. We toppled over together, and I draped my arm over my neck to shield myself from her bared fangs. They tore at my arm and hooked deep. But went no further.

Her body twitched, and I froze, gaping at her vacant face as she went still.

"Clarisse? Daniel?" Voices shouted in the distance.

I dislodged the woman's fangs from my arm and then squirmed out from under her. After grabbing her abandoned shirt, and then darting back for my bag, I took off running. Bodies crashed through the overgrowth behind me. The river was close. If I could reach it—
there!
The steady sound of rushing water. I hadn't strayed too far from it. Pausing briefly to stuff the gun and shirt in my sack, I pitched myself into the river, letting the current tow me away.

Water filled my mouth as I struggled to reach the surface. The violent rush dragged me down, and darkness tugged at my limbs like so many grasping hands. My shin hit something hard, and I cried out. The sound echoed. I'd reached the shore.

I crawled onto the rocks, and my stomach heaved. Choking out water and dirt, I lay on my side, heaving air in and out, sure I'd never get enough. I didn't want to move.

My lung burned, my energy was spent.

"Over here! I can smell her!"

They were coming. Finding their friends dead hadn't slowed them at all. Of course, with my blood on one of the bodies, they probably knew I wasn't one of them.

Wasn't strong enough to fight them. Or fast enough to run.

To make things worse, the river had pulled me away from the mountains. So there was no chance of Vince coming to the rescue.

You were supposed to come to the rescue. And buy him some time. At least you did that.

Great, they can bury me like a fuckin' hero. 'Here lies Brain-Dead
.'

I hauled myself up and then trudged into the deep brush, too worn out to make an effort to move faster. Twigs splintered into my bare feet. Low branches scratched my arms and tangled in my hair.

You've got a bullet left, want to try your luck?
I shook my head, still mumbling to myself. Then I dropped to my knees and tore my bag open. Took out the wet, bloodstained shirt. Wiggled into it and did up the buttons with shaky fingers. The now transparent cloth didn't hide much, but it made me feel better. Crouched low behind a massive pine, the thick foliage tickling the back of my neck—I hoped the tiny movement was just pine needle anyway—I pulled out the gun and listened for any clue as to what direction they were coming from.

Then I heard it. The crackle of a walkie-talkie.

"What is it?" A man asked.

"He's circled back. Moving fast. In your direction." The deep voice was lost in static for a moment, but then returned twice as loud. "Did one of you shoot something?"

"We weren't allowed to take any guns, idiot. It's the cunt from last night—she must have gotten loose somehow." He sniffed like he had a stuffed nose. "She's not far.

I'll grab her, and then meet you back at camp. We'll have a two-for, what do you say?"

A distorted laugh. Silence. Like the walkie-talkie had been shut off. I couldn't hear him coming. But I knew he was.

I emptied my bag, carefully slid the machete up under my sleeve, and then burst out from behind the tree, waving the gun around.

"Gotcha!" The man lunged at me and snapped the gun out of my hand before my finger even touched the trigger. The gun went flying, and he pulled me into a headlock.

His foul, liquor-soaked breath made me gag as he pressed his thick lips to my cheek.

"We're gonna enjoy you tonight, cunt. Last night was quite the fucking tease."

"Enjoy this, asshole!" I snapped my arm down, expecting the machete to drop into my palm. But it stuck. "Aw, shit!"

"What've you got in there, bitch?" The man fumbled with my shirt buttons. "How

'bout we get this out of the way so I can see?"

"No!"

"Nicole!" Vince stumbled into view, blood trailing from small cuts all over his face and chest. A black patch covered his missing eye, and he had to turn his head almost completely to see me with his good one. When he finally locked on my face, he snarled and rushed forward.

My back hit the dirt. The man dove for the gun. Vince almost tripped over him.

By the time Vince spun around, the gun was pointed at his head.

And I'd torn my sleeve and taken out the machete. Without looking where I aimed, I fisted the handle with both hands and threw myself at the man. Slashed at whatever flesh I could find, wild with rage.

"You were going to kill him!" The blade stuck in bone, and I grunted as I jerked it free. "I'll kill you! He's mine you, bastard! Mine!"

Howling in pain, the man elbowed me in the throat.

Vince latched onto his wrists and held him down.

The world around me turned red. I brought the knife up and down, over and over until the handle slipped and hit the dirt. Then I drove my fist into him, hitting him like I hit the punching bag at the gym.

"He's dead." Vince pulled me into his arms, clamping them around me as I struggled to get back to the man. "Baby, he's dead. And there are more coming. Let's get out of here."

"Did he get you?" My mind snapped back into place, and I twisted until I was facing him, feeling his chest for any holes. "Those bullets—"

"I know. I saw the bodies." His lips curved as he smoothed my blood-soaked hair from my face. "I'm impressed, but I should still spank you."

"Spank me?" I slapped his shoulder. "Why? I just saved your life."

"We'll talk about that later." He straightened, still holding me, and then nudged me ahead of him. "We'll head back to the river to wash the blood off you. The scent will draw them downstream—we'll go up, northwest."

I frowned, glancing over my shoulder as I took the path towards the river. "They were supposed to be herding you towards the mountains. Did you figure that out?"

"Not exactly." He strode quickly after me, but slowed to feel around as the trees got closer together. "I kept a pace ahead of them, or sometimes just behind. Confused them a little. They couldn't figure out where I was going."

Jesus.
I stopped and watched him.

He went still and his eye narrowed. He scanned the trees. Stepped off the path.

"Nicole?"

"Can you see at all?"

"Of course, I can see." He scowled in my general direction. "I'm adjusting. Now keep moving."

"You got lost, didn't you?" I didn't wait for him to answer. Reaching out, I took his hand. "Let me help you. That's why I'm here."

"You shouldn't be here! They could have killed you!"

"They were more interested in fucking me." I tugged on his hand. "Yell at me later. We're both alive. That's all that matters. How about we keep it that way?"

He sighed, nodded, and then let me lead him to the river. While I quickly dipped into the shallow end, he stood guard. When I took his hand again, he muttered something under his breath and rubbed my arms.

"This isn't going to work. You're freezing. I have a place on the closest mountain where I stay sometimes. If we can get there . . . ."

"Which way is northeast?" I cursed myself in my head. If he could figure that out, he'd be leading the way. "I mean—"

"The river runs down from the East." He pointed to the left. "If we can keep going straight that way for about a mile, we should reach it. But I get disoriented."

I looked up at the cloudy sky. There were patches of stars. Not that I knew anything about the constellations, but I knew the stars didn't move much. So I picked the brightest.

"I can keep us going straight. Can you hear well enough to tell if we're being followed?"

"Yes."

"All right." I hooked my arm to his. "Shall we?"

He chuckled and inclined his head. "Of course. After seeing you in action, I wouldn't dare contradict you."

Tonguing a cut in my lip, I flashed him a cocky grin.
I was pretty badassed, wasn't
I?
"So do I get to play dominant for once?"

"They key word is
play
, Nicole." His hand curved around my side as he spoke into my ear. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

Chapter Twenty-One

The wind wisped around me, a silken caress on exposed limbs. Vince's scent, all mountain air and earthy musk, made my mouth water. I glanced back at him and the sudden urge to stop and lick the damp night's sheen of moisture from his muscular chest made me stumble.

"Nicole?" Vince frowned at me as I slowed. "Are you all right?"

I shook my head and quickened my pace. We had to keep going. Vince had redirected us twice away from something he'd heard, or sensed, or whatever—didn't matter. They were hunting us, and I had to focus on getting us somewhere safe.

My body became feverishly hot. My pulse raced.

Something's wrong.

Molten metal filled my veins, and I lost my footing.

Vince wrapped an arm around my waist, gently lowering me to a bed of soft, dry mulch. "You can't keep going like this. Let me help you."

"No. We have to . . . ." Pushing him away, I tried to roll over. My shirt hem skimmed my thighs, and my hips bucked as my whole body shot up to the precarious, torturous brink of ecstasy. "This. Can't. Happen. Not again!"