Tsunami Blue (5 page)

“So?” he said.

I raised my head and looked into his eyes. “So maybe you can just skip to the kill part. I mean, come on, tough guy. Give a girl a break. I’m not the party girl you think I am.”

The fear must have shown on my face, because his features softened. He looked thoughtful, almost sad. And that scared me. What did he have to be sad about? He was the Runner. He had me cuffed. He had the advantage.

I tried to keep my voice steady as I pleaded in my own proud way. “I’m really not into the whole gang scene, ya know? And I’m not gonna lie, I’m shy that way.” There. That was as close to begging as I’d ever get. And I was sure it wasn’t nearly enough. I bit my lower lip to keep it from trembling.

I couldn’t be sure what emotion passed over his face, but I hoped it wasn’t pity. I didn’t want his or anyone else’s. I just wanted to die with a little fucking dignity. Not like Seamus. Never like Seamus.

He wrapped his free arm around me and pulled me to him. He rested his chin on the top of my head for a moment. And then with a featherlight brush to my lips with his, he whispered, “Like I said, Blue, I don’t share. Not ever. You’re mine now. And you and I—that is, ‘we’—are out of here.”

Chapter Five

I paused on the obscure, narrow footpath that wound up through the terrain of Cady Mountain and looked at the trail of smoke that snaked into a gray, dripping sky.

Remnants of my cabin.

Gone now, along with whatever dreams I had of a stable home. I’d so wanted a tiny dot in this universe that I could call mine. And I almost had it. Almost.

Gabriel gave me a moment before the now familiar tug at my wrist broke my thoughts. And as if sensing my need for validation of the destruction of everything I ever owned, he handed me the binoculars. I held the dual lenses to my eyes, and the excellent optics captured what I’d feared most over the last eleven years.

Runners.

An army of Runners swarmed around the charred remains of my cabin. From my vantage point they looked like nothing more than ants, but I knew up close and personal that they were men of huge stature, with ice for blood and no souls to guide them. I lowered the lenses and took a deep breath before I held the binoculars up once again. I now knew one more thing for certain.

They were coming after us.

“We go off the trail.”

Gabriel’s voice cut through the silence, and I realized that I had been holding my breath, as if fearing that the Runners would somehow hear me if I breathed.

He reached for my uncle’s glasses and tucked them away in his pocket. Over the years I had wondered where Seamus had gotten such an expensive piece of equipment. Binoculars had all but disappeared over the last decade, along with REI, G.I. Joe’s and Cabela’s. Salt water was hell on optics, and to my knowledge, a pair of this quality was rare indeed. Well worth killing for. At least to the right person. A person like a Runner. And Gabriel Black was a Runner. He had already taken them from me. I could only hope he wouldn’t feel the need to kill me to make the transfer of ownership final. I glared up at him. “Thief,” I said under my breath.

He whistled low for Max, who like always had run ahead, scouting, sniffing, protecting. And with a tug on my wrist we stepped off the deer trail into the dense greenery. Heavy cedar boughs hung over a carpet of moss, and my world darkened a notch as what little sun disappeared.

Max took the lead, crashing through ferns and grass and leaves. On another day, it might have been just Max and me out on a winter’s walk.

“Why hide, Gabriel?” I asked, trying to keep up with his long strides. “These are your people. Your ‘tribe,’ as you Runners like to say.”

He pressed ahead, setting a grueling pace, and if I didn’t want my arm ripped from the socket, I had no choice but to keep up.

  “Bastard,” I muttered.

“Like I said, Blue, I don’t share.”

“Oh, yeah, that so explains it. I guess this is your idea of a date.” No reply. I kicked a rock at his back. It bounced off his shoulder; he didn’t seem to feel it, thus, no bruise.
Damn it.
I sighed and said, “And me without anything to wear.”

He stopped so abruptly I smashed into his broad back. He turned and looked at me with those black eyes, narrowing his gaze like a wolf to a lamb.

“I don’t think you need anything to wear, Blue. In fact, given what I’ve seen, I’d prefer it that way.”

Heat flooded my cheeks and I was speechless. I mean, really, what could I say? That I preferred him naked too? Laid out and filleted, gutted like a fish? The thought cheered me up.

He turned again, stomping through the growth, tugging me along like a pull toy. “And quit with the rocks,” he said over his shoulder. I gave him the finger. Guess it was official: We were just not getting along.

A siren cut through the trees and I quickened my pace, now walking almost side by side with my captor. I was worried that the devils below would catch up. And they would, because besides the sirens, I could hear dogs barking.

A lot of dogs.

Runners bred and trained their own special breed. Think pit bull meets rottweiler meets wolf hybrid. The dogs were famous throughout the islands. They were trained to track, hunt, and kill. That was all. The dogs weren’t dogs at all, but monsters, lethal weapons, bred to be as sadistic as their owners. At this point I had to admit that, given the choice—me verses a platoon of Runners and their pets, or a one-on-one with Gabriel Black—I liked my second option better. Seamus had taught me to play poker when I was seven, and by nine, I was beating him soundly. Calculating odds was my talent, and as near as I could tell, Gabriel might be holding the overcards right now, meaning the cuffs and the knife, but he should never underestimate my own hole cards. After all, I could slit a throat in three seconds, slice a tendon in under two. And trust me, Gabriel Black or any other Runner scum didn’t want to see my “all in” move.

We broke through the wooded darkness into a small clearing at the top of Cady Mountain. Below I could see the crescent shape of Griffin Bay and the angry whitecaps stirring more trouble into an already ruined day.

Somewhere down there, hidden among rocks and brush, was my kayak, handmade of deer hide and cedar. The little boat was sleek and fast, but only on seas made of glass. Today, with swells and wind, the boat would trudge and plow like molasses in winter. Capsizing was also a distinct possibility. And that was plan B.
Great, Blue. Just great.

I brought my hand up to shield my eyes, forgetting for a moment that my wrist was cuffed to Gabriel’s. His large hand blocked my view, and in frustration I socked him hard with my free fist in the shoulder. Gabriel raised a brow in question.

“Don’t give me that look, tough guy. I’m cuffed to you, for fuck’s sake. Cuffed!”

“That mouth, Blue.” Gabriel frowned as he looked over my head, listening to a series of barks and howls. I had the distinct impression that he’d just dismissed me, bad language and all. And I hated being ignored.

“So what about my mouth, Gabriel? It’s gonna what, get me in trouble? Like being cuffed to a Runner and being hunted by an army of them and their hounds from hell isn’t trouble enough? What are you gonna do, tough guy? Wash my mouth out with soap?” My voice rose as a trace of hysteria joined my normal pissed-off tone. It wasn’t my fault. I was finding out that Gabriel Black just brought out the best in me.

My world turned upside down.

No, really. Upside down.

Gabriel had swung me up and over his head like a proverbial sack of potatoes in a move that I wouldn’t have thought possible with cuffs on.
Great.
He was a contortionist too. I hung over his shoulder and he charged down the slope of the mountain with a speed and agility I’d not thought possible for a man his size. I had no choice but to hold on. It was a long drop from his six-foot-two frame, and I sure didn’t want him to go all caveman on me and drag me behind him.

“I can run on my own,” I shouted at him. “Just do the right thing and take the cuffs off.” He ignored me, of course, and I guess I had to agree: It was damn hard to hold a conversation at this angle, much less make demands.

The ground blurred and twisted beneath me, a blend of ferns and sand and rocks. I felt like an idiot, and Max obviously agreed, racing back and forth to check on me as if seeing me hanging upside down were a novelty of some kind.

A siren blared. Closer. Longer. Max paused as the baying of dogs sliced through the air. Max might try to defend us, but he’d be way outnumbered, and the thought of those mutant mutts ripping and tearing into my dog scared me. I started to encourage Gabriel.

“Run faster, you moron,” I yelled, beating my free fist on his back to get his attention. “They’re gaining on us.” Okay. So I wasn’t so good at encouragement. Call it tough love. Still, maybe it was my imagination, but he did seem to pick up the pace.

Gabriel stumbled down the last stretch into pebbles and sand. The beach.

He swung me down beside him, and we both turned to stare at the stream of men and dogs breaking through the clearing above us. Who knew evil could be so fast?

“This way,” Gabriel said as he pulled me toward the water, where now I could see our destination clearly. A sleek black-hulled sailboat bobbed in the waves. With two masts, it was a ketch rig, narrow in the beam, about thirty-two feet long. The boat was as sexy and sleek as its owner.

Sexy? Who thinks of sexy at a time like this?
When had this man turned me into a pervert? Sexy, my ass. I kicked his shin.

“Damn it, Blue.” He reached down and rubbed his leg. “Stop with the theatrics already. I’m trying to save your life.”

“Don’t be a wuss. I just wanted to get your attention.”

“Try asking.”

“Next time, tough guy. Now, what’s the plan? How do we get to your little boat out there?”

“Little?”

What was it with guys? Call their toys little and all of a sudden you had an injured male ego. Like I was talking about his personal equipment or something. Which, by the way, I’d seen so up close and personal that the thought made me blush. I mean, come on, there was nothing little about it. The man was amazing.

Heat flared in my cheeks as the visual hit my brain, and I quickly found something fascinating to look at on my boots.

“You doing okay? You look flushed.”

Okay. The jury was in: Gabriel Black had turned me into a pervert for real. Great. Just great.

Gabriel motioned to the shoreline, and, not having any choice in the matter, I followed his lead. As we approached I saw my kayak. It had been moved and now sat ready to launch in the unwelcoming sea.

I had built the boat when I was a kid; Seamus hadn’t helped, but instead stood watching and criticizing each and every phase along the way. But I was stubborn and I built the boat my way. Strong, durable, fast. I built it with one thing in mind: to escape him. Little did I know that the time would never come. It was Seamus who had left first—left me alone to find him gutted and bleeding and dying on this very beach.

The boat held two, and Max made three. It wouldn’t be easy, but maybe if Max was still for once, we could balance him just so, and maybe I could slip the cuff and shove Gabriel overboard. I mean, he did look good wet, and maybe—

“Good work, Black.”

We both jerked around to the raspy, low voice. A voice that sounded like its owner had been gargling with nails and rinsing with sand. A voice that sounded mean and scary and so unlike Gabriel’s silken whispers.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to keep the bitch for yourself. Of course, Indigo wouldn’t be happy about that.”

Indigo? I looked questioningly at Gabriel. He stood silent and unreadable, as always.

My heart automatically kicked into high gear and thudded against my chest. I hadn’t been this close to a Runner since the night I’d been attacked. And now I was looking at three of them, not more than an arm’s length away.

The men were huge, all three taller than Gabriel. Raspy Voice had long, tangled black dreads that he’d knotted and woven with seashells and shards of beach glass. He had a massive, serrated shark’s-tooth necklace, and long vertical scars ran down the left side of his face. He wore a coat similar to Gabriel’s but much worse for the wear. The bloodstains were hard to miss. So were the twin blades he held in each hand.

Gabriel shrugged and reached into his inner pocket and produced a key. I shook my head. My arrogance from the night before had gotten the better of me. I hadn’t even taken the time to hide the key. I’d just left it on the counter, so sure was I he’d never reach it.
Stupid, Blue,
whispered the voice of Seamus in my head.
Stupid.
Gabriel proceeded to open the cuff on his hand. So this was it. He was just going to hand me over to these three monsters. So much for not sharing.

“Coward,” I whispered.

He looked at me and raised that questioning dark brow of his, and with one more tug, I was sitting on the stern of my little boat, handcuffed to an exposed beam that had rotted through the leather.

“Not that I’d blame you, Black.” The man pushed past Gabriel and ran a blade lightly down my cheek. “She’s a looker, all right. Look at them blue eyes.” He pointed the tip of his knife at my pupil and I refused to blink. He lowered the blade and added, “Scrawny, though. Still…” He reached out and squeezed my breast through my Gore-Tex jacket. “She’s got enough meat on her for one good ride. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He pushed his scarred and ruined face near mine and he smiled, showing brown and decaying teeth. His breath smelled rank and rotting, like death.

I’d had enough.

Maybe it was the “scrawny” comment. Or most likely the uninvited hand on my breast might have done it. Not that I’d invited many hands to touch my breasts. Okay. None that I could think of.

Whatever.

I kneed him hard in the groin. I gave it my all, and he went down with a thud like a sack of cement mix. I stood, my cuffed hand lifting my tiny boat off the sand, and kicked him hard in the ribs, wishing like hell I were wearing a pair of those steel-toed boots instead of the rubber skull ones. I wanted to do some real damage. I stomped on a bent knee with my heel and heard a sickening crunch. The man howled in pain.

Max flew past me and launched at a second Runner, sending all one hundred and twenty pounds at him. The man went down, but not before slicing Max’s shoulder. Max yelped but continued with the attack, tearing and ripping at the Runner’s throat just like I knew he could. But knowing it and seeing it were two distinctly different things. And if I lived, I’d never look at my Max the same way again.

Gabriel had the third Runner, a huge, heavily tattooed bald man, in a death grip. He’d put my bowie knife to good use: It was embedded in the man’s heart.

Blood was everywhere, and my mind flashed on Seamus on this same beach, surrounded by so much blood. My legs went weak and I sank into the sand on my knees and tried not to be sick. My vision blurred as the nightmare of eleven years ago pushed to the forefront, taking over my mind. I felt faint.
Not now, Blue. Please, God, help me—not now.
I squeezed my eyes shut.