Nightbound (17 page)

He might be able to separate one of the men from the others and compel him to confess any unsavory intentions he might have, but he first wanted a look at the other camp.

Beau couldn’t move as quickly as Jayr, whose ability gave her bewildering speed and agility, but his Kyn strength allowed him to reach the second team’s camp within a few minutes. As there were no trees in the immediate
area, he took to the brush, using it as cover while he employed the binoculars.

No tents for the Europeans—they had parked a dozen large new RVs at the edge of the clearing they were excavating. Mounds of aluminum cases lay neatly stacked under tables of computers, electronic devices, and what appeared to be some manner of radio. A tall, heavily rigged steel frame dangled a long pipe in a vertical position above the ground; he didn’t recognize it or its purpose. A portable satellite dish on a trailer sat aimed up at the stars; another held a robotic device mounted with cameras and attached to a coil of shielded cables. Beau suspected the latter was the research submersible Alys had wanted.

She’ll be wandering about the Americans’ site by now.

Beau had known Alys would follow him, naturally. From the moment she’d produced that phony yawn and announced she was going to bed, he’d been sure of it. Otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered with stomping each step to leave visible footprints for her, or using the machete to clear the path.

It was only fair. As unhappy as he’d made her, she needed this little victory, and he hoped it would satisfy her curiosity. He’d also have to make more of an effort to behave more like a mortal. The sharp-eyed little wench had already noticed too much about him, and with her immunity to
l’attrait
he couldn’t wipe any of it from her memory.

The Europeans had not bothered with staking out a grid; nor could Beau see any sign of recovered artifacts. Several broad patches of grass had been cleared in the field, but all that had been dug in those spots was single
two-foot-wide oval holes. Beau couldn’t tell how deep they were, but the breadth of the holes was just a little larger than the submersible.

He shifted the binoculars to inspect the frame and pipe rig a second time; he could just make out the pointed, twisted taper protruding from the end of the shaft.
They’re not excavating; they’re drilling.

The entire region lay atop a vast network of underground reservoirs; Beau guessed the Europeans were attempting to tap one and use it to send the submersible onto Tremayne’s property and possibly to the spring itself. Which meant Alys’s suspicions about the emeralds were dead to rights.

In that moment Beau could have happily invaded the camp, smashed all the equipment, and compelled the entire team to present themselves to the authorities and confess their crimes. Even as his anger billowed up in him, he knew he couldn’t do it. If these were the
tresoran
traitors, which he suspected they were, they would likely be immune to
l’attrait
. They’d also have taken the precaution of arming themselves with weapons capable of killing Kyn.

Beau tucked the binoculars in his jacket and checked the time; by now Alys should have caught up to him. He backtracked toward the Americans, breathing in the air deeply to pick up her scent, but even outside the second camp he detected nothing of her presence. She wouldn’t have given up so easily, and she couldn’t be lost.…

Beau backtracked along the trail he’d left for her, first trotting and then racing as he tried to pick up her scent path. He finally found a very faint trace in the air on the east edge of the Indian village, the merest whisper of her.
He concentrated, closing his eyes as he breathed her in. She had been angry—yes, he could taste the peppery heat of that—but there was more, a sharper edge left by a sudden and very different burst of emotion: terror.

Beau followed the scent, pausing only when he picked up the minute particles of the one thing that caused his
dents acérées
to emerge, full and straining, into his mouth: mortal blood.

Alys was bleeding.

Sweeping methodically from one side of the village to the other, Beau searched the ground and called out her name. Toward the heart of the site he saw an unnatural fog wafting over the ground, and spilling into a dark gash in the earth as if it were being sucked in. He made his way to the edge, cursing as Alys’s scent rose up to meet him.

“Alys?” He peered into the hole, but it was too deep and dark for even his Kyn vision to penetrate. It wouldn’t harm him to jump in, but he might land on top of her. “Stay where you are. I’m fetching some rope.”

Beau ran to the camp, grabbing a coil of utility rope, a lantern, and a first aid kit from the supplies stowed in the church. If she was unconscious and the pit very deep, he wouldn’t be able to jump out with her, so he grabbed a handful of stretch cords with end clamps that he could use to bind her body to his.

Back in the village he quickly knotted the end of the rope around two tree trunks, and tested his weight on the line before he went back to the edge.

“Alys, I’m here,” he called to her. “I’m coming down for you now.” He ran the rope through the handle of the first aid kit and the lantern so that both would slide down behind him.

Loose soil rained all around him as he descended, and to prevent another cave-in he tried not to touch the side of the pit. He dropped another twenty feet before his feet touched bottom. Quickly he removed the kit and the lantern, switching on the light.

On the opposite side of the pit Alys lay next to an outcropping of stone, her body nearly buried beneath fallen dirt and broken branches. Beau placed the lantern next to her head, touching the underside of her jaw, where he felt her pulse throbbing strong and regularly. The relief to know that she had survived the fall came over him so strongly that he braced an arm to keep from dropping down alongside her.

“You are supposed to dig the holes, woman, not fall in them.” Carefully he brushed the dirt away from her face, which appeared unmarked. Almost at once she began coughing, but he clamped his hands on her shoulders and pinned her in place. “Don’t try to move yet, love. I have to check you for broken bones.”

Her eyelids fluttered open. “Beau.” She frowned at him. “I found a pit trap.” Her eyes shifted. “I think I fell in it.”

“Yes, actually, you did.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling a small bump there but no bleeding. “I have to see if you’ve broken anything. Can you be a good girl for me while I do?”

“I’m not a child. I only behave like one on occasion.” She closed her eyes. “Go ahead.”

Beau tested the set of her neck and shoulders, moving his hands down one arm and then the other. The sight of her bleeding palms and broken nails made him feel sick with fear. She’d fallen more than twenty feet; the impact might have broken her back.

“Can you feel this?” He brushed his lips over the knuckles of one hand and the palm of the other.

“Stop kissing me—I’m filthy.” She looked past him. “This isn’t a pit trap. I’d be impaled on a bunch of spears if it were, it’s too deep, and besides that, the Timucua never built them.”

Beau began checking her fingers. “Do remind me to thank the natives.”

“You can’t. The last Timucua Indian died almost two hundred and fifty years ago.” She shifted her eyes to the left. “This looks like a borrow pit.”

He placed her hands at her sides. “They borrowed it from someone?”

“We call them that because the natives dug them to borrow the dirt for burial mounds,” she said. “Which is even odder. There aren’t any burials anywhere near here. I think the closest one is in New Smyrna Beach.”

“Be still.” He pulled away the debris covering her abdomen and right leg. “Does anything hurt?”

“My head is pounding, and something under me is jabbing me.” She tried to look down the front of herself. “I can feel my toes.” Soil fell away from her sneakers as she wiggled them. “I don’t think my legs are broken.”

That left checking for the worst. “I’m going to put my hand under you, and feel along your spine.”

Her scowl ebbed as fear filled her eyes. “I landed on my back, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did, love. But you just moved your feet, and I suspect you have a spine made of iron.” He leaned over and kissed her brow. “Be brave now. Tell me if you feel any pain.”

She nodded.

Beau used his ability to lift her body enough to place his hand beneath it. He felt the warm wetness of blood as soon as he touched her back. He felt along her spine for the source, but Alys didn’t make a sound until he reached her waist.

“There.” She caught her breath. “Something there. It feels like a knife.”

He went around the spot and continued until he reached her buttocks. From what he could feel, her bones were intact, which meant he could risk moving her. “I’m going to turn you on your side and have a look. We’ll go slowly.”

“I can do it.” Alys shifted, groaning as she moved onto her left side. “Oh, that really hurts now. Please tell me there aren’t any bones sticking out.”

Beau lifted the lantern over her, and as soon as the light illuminated her injury, he put it down. “No bones out of place. There’s a bit of wood lodged under your skin.” He studied it before he reached for the first aid kit. “It hasn’t gone in very deep.”

“Please.” Her voice sounded strained. “Pull it out.”

He took a gauze pad from the kit. “Ready?”

“Yes.” She muffled a sharp sound as he tugged it free, and then exhaled heavily. “A twig? That was all? It felt more like a log.”

Beau tossed the wood aside and quickly bit into his own wrist, opening two puncture wounds that he held over the gash in Alys’s skin.

“What’s that?”

“Only a little antiseptic.” He watched as his Kyn blood sank into the wound, putting an immediate stop to the bleeding. He covered the gash with more gauze, which he taped in place.

“That doesn’t sting, but it feels hot.” She tried to look over her shoulder. “How did you know I was down here?”

More questions. The wench had nearly died, and she was still asking them. “I heard the ground collapse.”

“No, you didn’t; that was me falling in. This pit was already here; someone just camouflaged it.” She struggled into a sitting position. “I want to stand up.”

As he helped her to her feet, Beau glanced at the mound of deadwood around her. “The natives did not do this.”

“No.” She picked up an oyster shell. “After they dug this pit and did something with the dirt, the Timucua probably used it as a very large garbage can.” She gingerly felt the back of her head. “Maybe the kids covered it up as part of a prank.”

“They would not do something so vicious.” Beau caught her as she staggered, bringing his arms up around her and holding her against him. “I must take you to hospital.”

“I can’t leave; the terms of the grant were very specific. If I do, Hylord will shut down the project.” She looked up at him. “I think I’m all right. Mostly. Are your eyes glowing?”

Beau hadn’t fed before leaving to scout the other camps, and expending so much energy as well as using his ability to get to Alys had further depleted him. The scent of her blood had stirred the worst part of him, and if he soon didn’t get away from her and feed, his hunger would grow out of control.

“I must leave you here for a little while,” he said, holding her at arm’s length. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not the one who’s afraid. Your hands are shaking.” She tilted her head. “Your voice has changed, and your teeth are different, too.”

“You just took a bad fall,” he reminded her. “You’re shaken from it.”

“Not really.” She breathed in and smiled as her eyes darkened. “Brenda calls you the Candyman. Do you know why? You smell like caramel. Hot caramel.”

She’d fallen again, this time under his sway. Beau knew that even the few mortals who were immune to
l’attrait
could still be affected by it when they were injured or weak. Which made him want to curse God and all the heavens for doing this to him.

“Do you like me,” Alys was asking him, “or do you just pretend to because we have to work together?”

“Alys, listen to me. I want you to sit down and wait here.” He turned away from her to pick up the lantern and switch it off. “I won’t be long.”

He reached for the rope, but when he grasped it, the entire length came slithering down, until the other end landed at his feet.

“Do you have to leave me?” she asked. “I don’t like being alone down here. Not after someone tried to electrocute us. Can’t I climb out with you?”

The fall must have addled her thoughts. “Neither of us will be climbing out of here,” he said, his voice sounding harsh. “Someone cut the rope.”

“All of the interns are back at the hotel in the city. We’re the only ones left out here. Unless it was the ghost, but I don’t believe in ghosts.” She came up behind him. “Maybe you didn’t tie it right.”

“No, it was tied well enough.” As soon as she touched
his shoulder, Beau moved away from her. “You should sit down.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll save my life again. Just like you did in France, when I was a little girl.”

“You should sit down and rest. Let me help you.” When he reached for her, his fingers brushed against her pendant. “What is this?”

“My cross.” She tucked in her chin to look at it. “I’ve had it since I was a baby. Like the omega. I think my parents were religious. And maybe a little weird.”

She was still making no sense at all, but neither was the cross she wore. Simply touching it sent an unpleasant tingle through his fingers. Beau was convinced he’d seen it before, and not on Alys. He turned it over in his hand, and saw the glint of a tiny jewel embedded in the center.

The eye of Yblis.

“I’ve seen you watching me, you know.” She tugged the cross from his fingers and bent to turn on the lantern. “Most men don’t do that after they talk to me. Either I intimidate them or I don’t say what they want to hear.”

“You do unsettle me on occasion,” Beau said, “but I am not afraid of you, Alys. And you can say anything to me that you like.”

“Good.” She beamed at him. “Will you have sex with me?”