The large patio area beyond the doors was empty—the outside furniture obviously stored for the winter elsewhere—and the well-manicured lawn and gardens beyond were free from unexpected shadows. There was nothing to suggest anything or anyone lay in wait.
And yet I was sure someone was, even if Nex remained inert.
I carefully pushed the door open and stepped out. The wind stirred around me, freezing my skin even as she whispered her secrets. There were a dozen men up on the roof, though she wasn’t able to tell me anything more than that. I had no idea whether that was my lack of training when it came to reading the wind or whether they were protected from observation in some way. Darkside knew Mo was a mage, so it wouldn’t be surprising if they’d provided at least some protective measures to their army.
But who was in charge of that army? Was it the presence Nex had so briefly reacted to?
I scanned the night again, then knelt and pressed my fingers against the pavers, splaying them wide in an attempt to capture the signal more strongly, though I had absolutely no idea if it would make any difference.
Her pulse came through, strong and steady, but there remained no indication of anyone or anything in the area around the house. I widened the search parameters, seeking information from the acres beyond this garden, and received the faintest echo of evil.
Nex had been reacting to a dark presence, though it wasn’t close, and I couldn’t immediately tell if it was an elf, a demon, or even a halfling.
My pulse rate leapt at the thought … could luck be with us? Could it be another incarnation of Winter standing out there?
It was certainly possible. Mo’s tracker might have said one of them had slipped back into Darkside, but the nearest of Ainslyn’s three gates was only a seventy-minute or so drive away, even in peak-hour traffic. It was perfectly possible that he could be here.
But if it was, how the hell had he found us here so quickly? Mo had checked for trackers, but had she somehow missed one?
It was a definite possibility.
And if there was, it meant the bastard would run the minute I moved toward him, and that in turn meant I had to be faster than him.
But the people on the roof also meant I couldn’t shift into blackbird form—not when my pale feathers contrasted so sharply against the night, presenting an easy target for even a mediocre sharpshooter.
I pressed my fingers harder against the sandstone, gathering as much information as possible about the man up ahead. Then I fixed my gaze on his location, thrust up, and ran.
The earth’s pulsing strengthened once I hit the grass. The knives responded, echoing the beat, Nex with hunger and fury, and Vita with warmth and strength.
I leapt over a half-height stone boundary wall and ran on, guided by the trio of powers that now coursed through me.
My quarry was on the run.
I swore and reached for more speed, but he was fast—damned fast. Even with the boost Vita was giving me, there was a very good chance he’d escape. Maybe I should risk the possibility of being shot and just fly after the bastard … but I’d barely even thought that when, from behind me, came a harsh shout. A heartbeat later, the earth shuddered under multiple impacts, and dirt sprayed into the air.
My heart just about leapt into my throat.
Bullets.
And not just from one gun, but a number of them.
Fuck.
I raised a hand, grabbed the air, and then twisted it around, creating a vortex that wrapped around me so fiercely, all I could hear was its howling. The bullets stopped hitting the ground around my feet; the wind was altering their trajectory.
I leapt over a garden bed, slipped on a damp patch of grass, and went down. I swore and half thrust up, then stopped and instead dug my fingers deeper into the soil, imagining a wave of earth ensnaring my quarry in much the same manner as I had with Winter on King Island. As the earth responded, I ran on.
I was close enough now that I could feel the vibration of my quarry’s steps through the ground. I was catching him … and so was the earth’s wave.
From somewhere beyond the delicate pencil pines that lined the fence boundary up ahead, an engine roared to life. I swore. The bastard was not going to escape me.
Vita’s pulsing increased, and her energy burned through me, lending my limbs additional strength. I was all but flying over the ground, my feet barely touching.
He wasn’t going to outrun me, even if he was somehow avoiding the wave of earth.
A figure finally appeared on the horizon. He was cloaked in black and wearing a hat, so I had no idea if it was Winter or not and, at this point, didn’t care. I just wanted to catch him and find out what they’d intended.
He crashed through the pencil pines and briefly disappeared, but I was only seconds behind him now. I just needed some goddamn luck and he’d be mine.
I plunged through the pines and scrambled over the fence. A long paddock beyond swept down to a road on which a car waited. The bright gleam of its headlights illuminated the ground between it and my quarry. His hat had been torn off, revealing long white hair that streamed behind him.
Winter.
Running faster than my wave. How that was possible, I had no idea, but the bastard wasn’t going to escape. No way, no how.
I grabbed the wind again and flung it forward. It howled across the distance separating us, flattening everything in its path. Winter cast a glance over his shoulder, then reached into his pocket and withdrew what I presumed was a gun. I didn’t falter. The wind had protected me once from bullets. It would do so again.
But Winter didn’t stop, and he didn’t shoot.
He didn’t get the chance.
The wind hit him, sweeping him up and around, drawing him ever higher. I released its force and watched as he slammed back down. The wave of earth finally caught him, sweeping over his feet, legs, and arms, pinning him in the position that he’d fallen. He made no immediate attempt to move. I rather suspected that, given the twisted positioning of his earth-covered limbs, he couldn’t. His legs and very possibly his back were broken.
The car accelerated away, the squeal of its tires riding across the silence. I paid it no heed, my gaze on Winter. His eyes were closed, and blood seeped from the sides of his mouth, but there was no sense of death coming from the earth.
Not yet, anyway.
I nevertheless approached him cautiously. He might not be moving, but, pinned or not, the gun remained in his hand. He might still be able to pull the trigger, even if he couldn’t aim the shot directly at me.
I drew Nex. Lightning flickered around her blade, a pulse that was eager in feel. She remained hungry to shed blood, though I did have to wonder if she actually was, or if I was projecting my own desires onto her.
Winter’s eyes opened, his gaze flickering from me to her and back again. There was no fear in his expression. There wasn’t even pain, though he had to be in a whole world of it. The only emotion etched onto his thin features was acceptance.
He knew he was going to die, and he didn’t care—perhaps because there was at least one other incarnation of him out there.
I stopped near his knees and studied him for several seconds. He returned the gaze evenly. I had no doubt he was sharing what he was seeing with his remaining counterpart.
And that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted the remaining clone to see my presence at the death of his brother. Wanted him to realize that I’d be coming after him as well. I wanted him to fear that fact even though it was doubtful any of them were capable of it.