Halfway Dead (18 page)

His shoulder drove into her chest with a sodden crunch. They vanished behind the hedge of ferns in a torrent of snarls, and I quickly turned my eyes to focus on the second attacker. She was a virtual twin of the first, her features contorted with a hiss that erupted through red lips and sharp, yellowed teeth. Like her sister in arms, whorls of mist followed her path as she bounded toward me, her decision about who to attack clearly made.

“Going for the littlest one, huh,” I muttered, raising my charm bracelet in a snapping motion that made the metal tinkle like breaking glass. I’d hoped to prepare a cantrip, but time was not on my side. The sylph lunged toward me in a blur of fog and fangs, a feline growl rising in the depths of her throat. She moved like a venomous deer, and was airborne in a single leap.

I watch football. I play basketball—no short jokes, thank you—and I know that one of the unwritten rules is to never leave your feet. Not only did the Sylph confirm my suspicions that she was a lousy tactician, but, even at a distance, I could tell she was a spotty bather. Worse yet, she was emotional and pissed off. That might work against some people, but not me. I cooled my heels and waited the split second it took her gross feet to hit the dirt and start churning toward me.

I released my spell’s energy and shouted, “Scíath min!”

A whirlwind of sand and grit erupted from my hand at something like a couple hundred miles per hour. She was a dead creature of the air, and my earth spell crashed headlong into the bloated remains of what had once been a beautiful being. The sand scoured her viciously, snapping her wings back with a painful cracking as she tumbled in full reverse before meeting the trunk of a maple with a satisfying thump. I started to laugh, since she more or less looked like a plucked chicken with boobs . . . and then she stood up again.

And she looked
really
mad. Again.

A spell of warding began to form on my tongue, when Jim’s big caliber pistol boomed out once, then twice, and then several more times so quickly I lost count. He advanced on the beast while firing, then calmly changing clips when he stood over the thrashing Sylph, a grim smile on his mobile face.

And I thought I was cool under pressure. Sheesh. He seemed drowsy as he pulled the trigger again until the second clip had aerated the Sylph like a piece of moldy lace. She fell silent, proving my suspicion that if you soften a fae or undead up enough, a well-placed mortal weapon will do the trick.

“Thanks,” I said as calmly as I could.

Jim merely shrugged, and his smile grew sad. We both turned at Wulfric, who was stepping through the ferns as he wiped blood from one hand.

“Is everyone all right?” Wulfric asked, although it was a formality. His eyes betrayed the observation that we were all unharmed but slightly freaked out by the ambush.

“Jim’s pretty good with that thing,” I said, watching Dietrich reloading yet again.

His eyes moved about the area with interest, not alarm. I revised my opinion of his skills yet again.

“What did you cast, Carlie? That was remarkably well-suited to felling such a creature.” Wulfric looked at the dead Sylph. This time, she was
really
dead.

“Sandstorm. Gran used it to braid two elements for more punch. It seemed like the best thing to buy a little time, too, given that we were in close quarters.” I nodded at the encroaching ferns and trees. It had been a fine place to attack. I detest smart beasties. “Think it’s clear for the moment?”

Wulfric nodded, while Jim merely grunted. That was good enough for me. I bent once again to the spring and began to wash. I was covered with gritty detritus from my impromptu turn as a weather goddess. “You’re both spattered like a Jackson Pollock dropcloth. Come clean up and we can move on.” I used my
inside teacher’s voice
, and both men obeyed.

Wulfric was on my left, Jim to my right. I was washing my face when I felt Wulfric’s eyes on me like a physical touch. From my periphery, I could see him watching my mouth as I licked water from my lips. I turned to him slowly, and watched his huge, dark pupils contract to pinpoints. I recognized interest of a heat that had a shape, it was so real.

Without turning, I asked him, “How have you hidden this for the past day?”

“Hidden what?” He was innocence itself.

I continued to scrub at my hands. “It isn’t lust. It’s more than curiosity.” I paused my cleaning and began drying my hands. “I might be thinking the same thing.”

“Really? Intriguing.” He rubbed one long hand over his neck, squinting thoughtfully. “I sense some reservations in your assessment of my desirability.”

“You are perceptive.” I looked him over again, smiling. “
And
handsome.”

A smug grin began to bloom on his face, but I squashed it with a glance. I leaned toward him, close enough to smell the scents of clean sweat and woodsy masculinity. His mouth opened slightly in anticipation of the kiss, and I fought to keep myself from giving in.

“But I’d like to know a little more about you.” I smiled at his crestfallen expression, but saw him brighten as he reassessed the possibilities. To Wulfric, the only thing that mattered was the chance.

“I’d love to share with you, of course. Ask anything you want,” he said, pulling me to my feet with one powerful arm.

Jim had his pack slung, studiously looking away from our little tete-a-tete.

“Well, there is one thing I’ve been meaning to ask.” Wulfric beamed down at me expectantly.

I smiled sweetly and said, “Tell me how you fathered a child when you were trapped in the woods all those years.”

I’ve got to admire a man who can be accused of slipping his immortal bonds for some nookie and never even break stride.

Wulfric flinched, but he didn’t stop moving. His face collapsed like a card table at a drunken brawl, and I gave him the benefit of my silence to organize his response within the commands of his wergild. Jim took a sudden interest in the trees, craning his neck to admire one of a billion leafy branches. In addition to being a crack shot, it seemed that he was naturally tactful as well.

“I told you I’d escaped on rare occasions,” Wulfric began, his voice even. “You seem to think that my, ah, limitations have an effect on everyone. You would be wrong.”

“Meaning?” I asked. He wasn’t being coy, I just wanted everything in his own words, free from my input.

He sighed as we climbed over a fallen log that was vanishing into a sodden pile, courtesy of an array of fungi. The broad, fanlike mushrooms were breaking what had been an enormous tree into nondescript lumps of dark, soft matter. Given enough time, there would be nothing save the dirt itself.

“Anna came to me,” Wulfric said, and there was a stillness to him that reminded me he was half vampire.

I said nothing. We walked on in utter silence until I saw his lips quirk with perturbation. He’d tried to wait me out, but I could become mute if necessary. I’m a witch. I use quiet as a physical tool, and I’m perfectly capable of giving the silent treatment to a smug Viking, regardless of his supernatural qualities.

Wulfric rolled his shoulders in exasperation. “Anna came to me posing as a hiker. She would bring me things, and we became friends. I knew she wasn’t human, but I could never discover her nature.”

“You didn’t think to ask? You have a
daughter
with the woman. Stars and sky, you must be dense,” I groused at him.

His ignorance of Anna’s true nature confirmed that the human half of him was susceptible the charms of a woman. Granted, she was odd, beautiful, and exotic in her own way, but still. Who doesn’t ask some basic questions, especially if—

“If he’s been devoid of love and human contact for decades at a time? Indeed, Carlie. What kind of lout would behave in such a manner?” Wulfric finished my thought for me. At my shock, he quickly added, “No. I did not read your thoughts, Carlie, but I am a logical person, despite your assessment of my status as a wanton, lustful being.” He grinned to take the sting from his words, but he was right. I’d assumed he was weak with lust, when it very well could have been some other, unknown reason driving Anna’s desire for his company.

And his ability to give her a child.

I chose my next words carefully. “Did you see Anna after she became pregnant?”

Wulfric’s mouth twisted sardonically. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

So, no. That opened an entirely different line of questions that I’d not considered. Up until this point, I’d regarded Anna as a quirk of nature; probably some harmless minor fae who was slumming in the mortal world for reasons known only to her. She was funny, well-liked, and engaged with her surroundings in a way that seemed benign. Now, I wasn’t so sure. Why would she seek out a half-vampire to give her a child? Why now? Why here?

“Do you have any inkling why she broke off contact?” I asked.

“Other than her using me as a stallion?” He chuckled, a low, mirthless noise. “None. I wish nothing but love to her and my daughter, although regarding Anna, I could not ever trust her. She is effectively gone to me, but . . . I admit that I have always wondered what it would feel like to be a father. And now that I know, having myself denied the company of Emilia is like a sword in my heart.” He turned to me and then he
did
stop. “When I held her, it was as if the babe was pulling me toward the heavens. She is lightness and good, and beautiful—gods, but she is a perfect child, Carlie. My heart floods simply feeling the warmth of her cheek on mine, and now Anna has taken that away for a reason that is unknown to me.” Thunderclouds flared in his eyes, and his voice descended into a growl . “That will not stand. I shall have my daughter, and I will be a human once more.”

I put a hand on his arm. Now we were at the heart of the matter. “Wulfric, you were a human before Emilia arrived. Just as you are now.”

Softly, Jim’s voice carried to us. “You’ve had a taste of humanity, and now you think it’s gone?”

“Yes,” Wulfric said in a raspy voice.

In his strangled response, I heard the most basic of human needs, and it hurt me. No one should feel that they are powerless to live, or love. In one word, I knew that his loss was acute.

“What about Anna?” I asked. I admit, part of me wanted to know for purely selfish reasons. I felt myself warming to this half-blooded Viking in a way that was both alien and thrilling. I liked the sensation, so I let it play out along the edge of my imagination’s dance floor.

“She is a liar.” Wulfric’s response was a sledgehammer of simplicity.

“But your daughter? And, were you not in love?” I asked, with what I hoped was reasonably upbeat intonation. I don’t want to tip my hand to any guy, let alone a Viking who has a vampire in his family tree. I have my pride, no matter how damned magnetic this man I barely knew was proving to be.

He pulled his hair forward in frustration, and I resisted the urge to tuck it back. “No, I was alone. I thought I could be free of my commitment, and I was wrong. I
am
wrong,” Wulfric said in a grated tone. “There is nothing left between us. What was a bright thing is now a husk. It is burned, destined to crumble and be gone on the breezes. It was a lie,” he said with finality.

I took his hand. “
When
we leave these woods, I will help you see her.” I looked up at his eyes, black and liquid.

He nodded to me, squeezing my hand with more than camaraderie. I felt a pinking of my cheeks and turned away to Jim, who had once again become fascinated with the majesty of nature. He really was an excellent actor.

The remaining hours of light were spent gaining elevation. Around us, the forest began to shift from maples, ash, and hickory, to more alpine species. There were hints of white pine and balsam fir in the air, a cutting tang that added a deep, clean note to the light breezes that kept us cool enough to continue stolidly onward. We reached a riotous outcropping of paper birch that served as a natural lookout over the sweeping valley below. It was enchanting. It was
my
home, a place that was ancient and vibrant. I felt a surge of poignant recognition, and I smiled at the quiet hours that ended the day. As the winds began to die, we began setting camp with unusual industry. Bindie chirped her way about, adding helpful suggestions that Wulfric translated. She recommended a fire position and sleeping arrangements that would maximize the warmth we could generate, then pointed out a weak area at the edge of the point. That was a no-go zone, which was handy given that someone might get up to answer nature’s call and find themselves tumbling down a mountain in the dark.

While pantless. Yeah, no thanks.

I gave her a tiny salute, and she winked back, a flare of intense blue in the swiftly-darkening sky. We settled into our comfortable routine as experienced campers—even Jim seemed to intuit what to do, and he really was a wizard at cooking rations without scorching them. As a professional cook, I’m thrilled when someone else takes the lead. I like to eat, or sleep, or sometimes both if I’m up wandering around in the small hours of the night. More than once, I’ve awoken to carnage in the kitchen and no one to blame but myself. Add the skill
sleep somnambulist
to my resume. I’m a keeper.

“How close are we, do you think?” I asked. I stole a glance at my inert necklace and frowned.

Wulfric looked around, then shrugged. “Tomorrow, I would think. We’re running out of land, for one thing, and Bindie seems a bit subdued tonight. I think she understands what’s coming. The wee fae have a certain nose for such things. It’s one of the reasons they’ve survived for so long in a world that is, to them, filled with giants.”

Jim chewed meditatively on a candy bar of some indeterminate brand. “I think it behooves us to set a watch despite Bindie being here. It might be naïve to think that Haldor doesn’t have any more nasties to point at us. Those Sylphs were quite enough for my tastes. I’d hate to see what he sends to make certain that we’re stopped.”

“Those were designed to be brutes, despite their graceful—okay well, parts of them were graceful—appearances. I’d expect something more magical if he attacks us again,” I said.

“What flavor of magical?” Jim asked. His education in the ways of the fae and undead was only beginning.

“It could be subtle, maybe a spirit, even. I hope to avoid ghosts of any kind. I can’t stand their pain.” I tapped my finger against my bottom lip, thinking.

Wulfric was watching me again. A delicate flush spread across my neck at the thought of his hands on me. I liked it.

“It could be something entirely natural as well, although I find this conjecture to be little more than a means to increase fear. We are resolved, nothing shall stop our progress. If we are stopped, then we will be dead, and we won’t know it,” Wulfric explained helpfully. He really was a ray of sunshine discussing our possible doom. I felt the frisson of lust fizz away with his cold dose of reality. I’d have to discuss his bedside manner with him, if we ever got that far.