The Warrior (38 page)

“Did you rent that speedboat yet?”

“Yes.”

“When can we get it?”

“Anytime after seven tomorrow morning. It's ours for the day. If you want it longer, you can tell him when we pick it up. He wants cash, and a deposit.”

“Fine, fine,” Richard muttered. “I want to be on the water by 8:00 a.m.” Then he ran his hand over his freshly shaved head, trying to reconnect with his purpose. “She thinks she's safe now, coming out of hiding and moving in with that Indian. But we know where he lives.”

“You can't get to him from land. He's got the perfect setup for privacy. I hot-wired that gate once, and it still set off alarms.”

“Thus the reason for coming at them from the water,” Richard said sarcastically.

Dieter no longer cringed at Richard's voice. He'd become impervious, although there had been a time when that tone would have made the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“It's a long trip up the coast in such a small boat.”

“I'm down to one yacht. Even though it's berthed in Miami, we can hardly use it now, can we? Besides, it's not that far, and I'm assuming you don't have a prior engagement,” Richard pointed out, then waved his hand. “Go do whatever it is you were planning to do. Just be back here by dinnertime.”

“Yes, Mother,” Dieter said, then let the door slam behind him as he left.

Richard picked up a water glass and threw it against the wall. It shattered forcefully, scattering hundreds of tiny shards all over the carpet; then he grabbed his hat and sunglasses, and left the room, as well. He had a sudden urge to drive by his Miami home one last time.

 

Nightwalker. Nightwalker. Wake up.

John sat up with a jerk, his heart pounding and his body covered in sweat. The room was bathed in shadows, with moonlight dappling the walls and floors. He looked at Alicia. She was still asleep. He combed his fingers through his hair, then rolled out of bed and strode through the open doors to the balcony, welcoming the ocean breeze on his heated flesh.

The moon was full to bursting, spilling its pale glow over the water and delineating the crevices in the rocks along the bluff. Something broke the surface of the water, then quickly disappeared below. Nothing looked out of place. But he'd heard the voice, urging him to wake up. Even the Old Ones were anxious, which didn't bode well for anyone.

Just when he was thinking about going back inside, he heard the soft pad of Alicia's footsteps on the balcony behind him. He turned to face her, then took a slow, deep breath, thinking, as she moved,
She is mine.

She was magnificent in the moonlight, bare to the world into which she'd been born, with her dark hair tousled and her eyelids still heavy with sleep. Her breasts swayed slightly as she came toward him, taunting him to touch. So he did.

She walked into his arms and gave him a hug.

“Another bad dream?”

He sighed. He should have known he wasn't fooling her.

“It's gone now,” he said, and laid his cheek against the crown of her head.

“I'm still here,” she said.

“I know, baby. I'm sorry if I disturbed you.”

“It doesn't matter,” she said, taking both comfort and pleasure in being with him like this.

But there was something that mattered that she hadn't yet told him. Something that had been on her mind for days now. Seven, to be exact. Somewhere between the time they'd met in Justice and their time together in Sedona, she'd changed her sense of direction as to what was important in life. The two failed attempts to kill her had given her a different way of looking at the world. Suddenly there were more important things than keeping a hair appointment or getting her nails done. From the time she'd fallen in love with John Nightwalker to right now, when she'd awakened alone in their bed, she'd decided to live life without stoplights and blinders. It had been life affirming and, at the same time, life changing. She'd hesitated to broach the subject because of all his bad dreams and distractions. But maybe now was the time. Maybe this would be what it took to make him happy again.

She leaned back in his arms, looking at his face in the moonlight. He was magnificent, her hero—but a hero who lived with too many demons.

“John…”

“Yes, baby?” he said softly as he fingered a loose strand of hair away from her eyes, then kissed the side of her face.

“We haven't talked a lot about the future.”

He kissed the other side of her face before he answered. “You're in mine. Am I in yours?”

She smiled. He couldn't have given her a better
opening if she'd drafted it herself. She took his hand and laid it in the middle of her belly.

“You are so very in me, Nightwalker, and will be for the next eight months or so.”

John heard the words yet was afraid to believe what she was saying. Her belly was flat, her skin warm to the touch.

“Alicia…what are you saying?”

She took his other hand and put it on her stomach.

“There's a baby in there. I'm going to have your baby.”

A look of awe swept across his face as he thought of what was growing beneath his palms. He tried to talk, but the words wouldn't come. When her face became a blur, he shook his head and dropped to his knees, holding her close with his face pressed against her belly. This was something he'd only dreamed of. A dream that had ended with White Fawn's death. Not only had she come back to him, but she'd come back with the one ability she didn't have before. The ability to bear children. His imagination was already running wild, imagining what the baby would look like—what he or she might grow up to be.

A little startled by his reaction, Alicia dug her fingers through his hair, then stroked the back of his neck. “I take it you're okay with this.”

She saw the shine of tears on his cheeks.

“John…sweetheart…”

He stood abruptly, then looked down at her, unashamed of his emotions.

“You have made me so happy…happier than you could ever know. Thank you, Alicia…thank you for loving me and for carrying our child.”

John cupped her face, kissing her lips, then her nose,
then hugging her over and over again until Alicia got it. He was seriously happy. She smiled.

Then he paused and stepped back, unaware that he was gathering his courage.

“Do you remember when I told you that when this was all over, there was a question I was going to ask you?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Well, I may be jumping the gun a little bit here, but hey…this baby changes the odds.”

“The odds of what?” she asked.

“Of you telling me yes if I asked you to marry me.”

Laughter bubbled. “Was a proposal going to be the question?”

“It was.”

“And now you think you have me over the proverbial barrel because you got me with child?”

He grinned. “I was hoping for just such an assumption, yes.”

“Then I say yes. To your proposal
and
the assumption, and to the fact that I'm beyond ecstatic to be having your child.”

The innocence of his joy overwhelmed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and just as she lifted her lips to his, the moonlight caught the tiny feather in his ear. It seemed to wink, as if at some secret they shared. Then she told herself she was just being fanciful and gave herself up to his kiss.

 

They left Miami without looking back, Richard sitting in one of the chairs at the prow of the boat, feeling the sea spray against his face and the sun beaming down on his shaven head. At first he'd been fidgety, anticipating
what he was going to say to her, wanting her to understand his sense of betrayal before her broke her damn neck. But one hour passed, and then another, and the sun got hotter, and the sea went on forever, and Richard felt a constant sense of déjà vu that made no sense.

Dieter steered without speaking, lost in his own morbid thoughts. Wondering what it was in him that made him so weak. Wondering why he was still here. It couldn't be for the money. That was already in his bank. He could have skipped out, and there wouldn't have been a thing Ponte could have done about the money. But he'd stayed. And not because he'd been afraid Richard would come after him and kill him. He felt a sickening sense of destiny, as if this had all been preordained before any of them had been born.

And so they sped over the water, bouncing with the waves that slapped hard against the underside when he steered too far into the wind. Jarring them in every way possible, except into the good sense they needed to turn back.

Richard got bored and came back to stand beside Dieter, urging him to go faster. Constantly asking how much longer it would be.

Finally Dieter turned, pointed and shouted in his face, “Look there! That's it. That big house on the bluff belongs to John Nightwalker.”

 

For the first time in weeks, John woke up happy, remembering the news Alicia had given him during the night. He could hear her in the shower, singing what they called a golden oldie. He heard something about a pale moon rising, and then “the writing on the wall.”

He hoped it wasn't a portent of things to come, and chalked it up to nerves as he went into the bathroom and joined her in the shower.

Later, after they'd shared breakfast and the dishes, he went into the office to catch up on some work. Alicia kissed him goodbye, mentioning something about going to the library to look for a book to read. A couple of hours passed as he worked. Once she walked by the open doorway and waved her fingers at him. The second time she went by she was wearing sunglasses. He assumed she was going out to sunbathe. Another thirty minutes passed before he finally glanced up at the clock. As he did, he realized the house felt empty.

He pushed back from the desk and began searching the downstairs, but there was no sign of Alicia. He took the steps up to the second floor two at a time and glanced into his bedroom, then out to the terrace. There was no one there.

He thought back, trying to remember if she'd been carrying anything when he last saw her, then remembered the sunglasses. He dashed out to the balcony to search the grounds below. And then he saw her down below, walking on the beach with her shoes in her hands, wading in the shallows as the water ebbed and flowed against her ankles.

Another sickening sense of déjà vu swept over him as he remembered standing here before, watching the village in what had once been a clearing, trying to catch a glimpse of White Fawn.

He looked out to the horizon, then beyond, and as he did, realized he was hearing a motor, although nothing was in sight.

It was just like before.

The same sense of dread.

The knowledge that evil was coming and he couldn't stop it. His heart was pounding, his body bathed in pain. The soul of the Spaniard was closer than it had ever been. He did not miss the irony of the Old Ones' ways. He'd searched the world for five hundred years without finding his enemy, and now the Spaniard was coming to him—back to the scene of the crime.

John tried to get Alicia's attention by calling, but she didn't seem to hear. He knew the sounds of the ocean were probably drowning out his voice. If only she weren't so far away. He was about to leave the balcony when a speedboat rounded the promontory far up the beach. But instead of passing by, it swerved and started toward the shore.

Struck by a hopeless sense of doom, John began calling out her name, frantic to gain her attention.

 

Alicia had gotten bored, but rather than bother John, she'd opted for a walk on the beach. In deference to her newly pregnant state, she'd taken the long way around rather than walk the steep, uncertain steps down the side of the bluff. It was the first time she'd gone down this way, but the farther she got from the house, the more certain she was that she'd been here before.

The terrain of the area felt familiar, and walking through the marsh grass and then up and down the small dunes, she felt at home in a way that made no sense. The day had gotten hotter, and the cool water of the Atlantic beckoned. As soon as she reached the water's edge, she pulled off her shoes and started meandering, letting the
waves break against her ankles while watching for the occasional seashell to emerge from beneath the sand.

She didn't know how long she'd been down there when she realized she was hearing an engine. She paused, shading her eyes against the sun as she stared out into the bay. All of a sudden a speedboat come flying around the finger of land up the coast.

She was watching the rooster tail of spray shooting out behind it when she thought she heard John shout. Then the shout turned to a scream.

She turned toward the house to see him waving frantically. Something was terribly wrong. Then one word carried clearly.
Run.

She spun toward the ocean. The speedboat was bearing down on the shore, directly toward where she was standing.