Huntsman's Prey (8 page)

“You say you saw the vine get me.” He finally looked at Lissa.

Lissa walked in a way that suggested she knew Wonderland like the back of her pale skinned hand. She never once looked left or right, or paused as if seeking the correct trail. Her head was held high and her eyes distant, as if deep in thought.

“Hmm?” She turned toward him. The all black eyes no longer seeming quite so foreign.

“Were you watching me earlier?”

Jaw stiff, she clipped a tight nod.

“Were you the rattling I heard in the bush?”

“Maybe.”

“Then you know Chrysalis, don’t you?”

It wasn’t his imagination that she shuddered. Even her breathing fluctuated, increasing rapidly. “You mean the demon?”

“Is that what you call her?”

Her lips pinched. “It’s what we all call her. And no, I don’t know her well at all. But I do know of her. What about it?”

“How many days has she been on the loose?”

“Days?” she laughed. “Try years.”

“What?” That didn’t mesh with the story Danika had given him. “Didn’t the girl turn on her eighteenth birthday?”

She shrugged, her movements lithe and sensual. Like a cats, the thought popped quickly into his head. “As I said, I do not know her. I could not tell you her age. But I do know that she’s been haunting our woods for fourteen years, at least.”

“Fourteen years?” He shook his head. She had to be wrong. “Fourteen years would have made the girl four years old.”

“I see you don’t believe me, but I have proof.”

“What kind of proof?”

The sky was beginning to darken. They had thirty minutes, an hour tops before the sun sat. They had to break for camp.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “we’re close.”

“Close to what?”

“To where camp will be for the night.”

He narrowed his eyes, the back of his neck prickled as he wondered whether she could read his mind. “Who are you, Lissa?”

She smiled and there was a hint of mystery behind the sensual façade. “I’m a guardian. And these are my woods.”

Just then a foul smell permeated the air, the stench of decomposing flesh and rancid blood. It was a rotten stench and made him gag.

She however, seemed completely unaffected. “It’s just the Ogre, as I said. See.” She pointed straight ahead to where a bridge had suddenly appeared as if from thin air.

It was made of a massive knot of brambles and ivy and Aeric wasn’t certain whether the thing was even safe to walk upon.

Stabbed into the ground beside it was a wooden sign that read:
Halt ye who dare to trespass on the Ogre’s bridge
. But it wasn’t the words that caused a shudder to ripple down his spine; rather it was the flecks of dried blood splattered upon it.

He lifted his brows, looking around for the green skinned brute. Lissa peered over the edge of the steep drop off that the bridge spanned.

“Looks as though Druselda isn’t here. How very strange,” she murmured to herself.

“Druselda? The ogre I’m assuming?” Aeric turned to her.

Muttering something that sounded like an assent, she started across the bridge.

“Woman,” he growled, instantly wary. Everything just felt off to him. Which was no wonder when one walked through Wonderland, but how could a guarded bridge be empty? If there was one thing he knew about beasts was that they guarded their territories with their life. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“I agree.” She nodded wide-eyed, but shrugged out of his grip and continued her forward march.

Realizing he either had to join her or be left behind, he reluctantly followed.

The bridge was sturdier than appearances would lead one to believe. The winds, that’d been balmy and gentle just a second ago, now slammed into them. Causing the bridge to sway precariously.

Gripping onto the railing with a white-knuckled intensity, and overcome with a very sudden and serious case of vertigo, Aeric stopped. “Lissa, I think we should find a way around. Something has died here.”

And that was no exaggeration. The stench was cloying at this point, making his eyes water. The wind and the smell, it was making his stomach want to revolt. He wasn’t normally so weak willed, but he didn’t like this. And if there was one thing Aeric trusted above all else, it was his innate sixth sense that’d seen him through quite a few near scrapes.

Her footsteps were lithe and agile, her pert little bottom flexing with each step. He had to admit, the view wasn’t so bad and did help a very little to distract from the constant pitching of his stomach.

“There is no other way around, it’s this way, or no spring. And you’re running out of time, so come on.” That said, she turned and picked up her pace, almost to a jog.

Her voice might sound nonchalant, but judging her bearing, the way her back was stiff and her movements increasing in speed, she was likely as nervous as he. Maybe even more so.

Moving as fast as he could, Aeric tried to catch up to her. But now the stone was hindering his speed. The closer he moved to the center of the bridge, the more powerful the smell became, until finally when he stood dead center he realized why.

The brambles were coated in a viscous red fluid and there were gelatinous bits of dark globs scattered all around.

He grimaced, recognizing a kill when he saw one. Judging by the massive amount of quivering flesh and the sheer volume of blood, whatever had been killed here had been huge.

Maybe even ogre size.

“Gods,” he breathed, pinching his nostrils shut as he rushed from the massacre as fast as his hobbled leg would allow.

Getting to the other side, he stepped off the bridge with no small amount of relief and looked at Lissa. She was staring at the bridge with a question in her eyes.

“Do you think that was—”

“I don’t know, Aeric.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

They didn’t talk about it again.

Lissa couldn’t understand how the man had come to be in her woods. He’d been making so much noise it had drawn her attention, especially the fight he’d engaged in with the demon woman.

He was a good-looking man, as far as human men went. He had a broad forehead and an aquiline nose. Blue eyes the color of permafrost stared back at her framed by a thick set of dark eyelashes. He reminded her of a fabled Viking warrior from the medieval ages. She had to admit to being rather besotted by Earth’s tales of great men and their wondrous myths.

“What are you looking at, girl?” It was obvious he wasn’t in a good mood, he’d been scratching at his stone cast for the past few hours, thankfully they were close to the waters now.

She shouldn’t care that he sounded so grumpy, she didn’t care. Nope, not at all. “I was wondering why you dress in the skins of animals?” Actually she hadn’t been wondering that it all, it was just the first thing that came to mind. “How many squirrels did it take to clothe you today?”

His brow lifted. “And I suppose because you shift into a cat it offends you?”

Now that he mentioned it… “Yes.” She tilted her chin haughtily.

Rolling his eyes, he growled, “Woman, where the bloody hell are you taking me? We’ve been walking nigh close to an hour, the sun will set in minutes, we’ve lost valuable daylight traipsing to nowhere. At this point I doubt in the veracity that you’re actually leading me to the springs. I do not recall the fairy springs being so far. In fact, I’m beginning to suspect you wish to make a meal of me.”

“Good Gods,” she laughed, “here you are the one wearing the carcasses of skinned creatures, and you accuse me of trickery.”

“What does that have to do with anything? You speak nonsense, and you’ve yet to tell me…”

“Tell you what?” She shrieked.

“Anything. Anything at all.”

She twisted her middle toward him so that she could look directly in his face. “What would you like to know, it’s not as if I have anything to hide?”

“How about everything for starters? Starting with how’d you just happened to come by some magical stone that could cure leech vine poison?”

Oh the man was vexing, if he weren’t so cute she would have left him to rot. In fact, the thought of it made her smile. “Why are you so distrustful of me?”

“I’m distrustful of anything in Wonderland. Everyone knows you can only believe half of what you see and none of what you hear within this mad realm.”

She scoffed. “Says who? The learned men of your realm? Or perhaps the crazy beggar who lines the befouled streets of your village? Because we all know we can trust an insane man.” Actually, she’d never admit this to him, but she was beginning to have a little bit of fun. It was just too easy to get under his skin.

He hissed.

If looks could kill she’d be six feet under.

“See, my point has been made. You are maddening. I ask a question, I get no answers, only more nonsense.”

“The stone belongs to me. I bartered it in exchange for the beans I’d found by the Riverside two nights ago to the little old lady who lives in the shoe down the lane.”

“And what would make you do that? That sounds awfully circumspect.”

“You’re just cranky and I really don’t want to talk to you when you’re like this.” She sniffed, twisting back around so that she could laugh without him seeing it. Honestly, she was having way too much fun.

“Woman,” he groused, and muttered beneath his breath.

Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she giggled. Thankfully she was pretty sure he didn’t notice. She heard him inhale deeply and then a moment later he asked, “Are healing stones in high demand around here?”

She pinned him with her frostiest glare, wishing they weren’t currently walking upside down through an enormous redwood tree trunk, as she was sure the glare wasn’t nearly so frightening when it resembled more of a smile. “Well, considering that you needed one today, I’d say yes it was a very good trade.”

“Which brings me to another question, did you know this was going to happen? That I was going to need a healing stone? Can you read the future? Do you know where Chrysalis is right now?”

Aeric’s lips were nice. The bottom lip slightly fuller than the top, she couldn’t stop thinking about them ever since he’d begged for a kiss. He’d been so pliant and yielding and what she wanted to do was ask him for another. But she doubted that request would go over well. Too bad. She grinned. “You give me entirely too much credit here. I only know what the woods tell me.”

“What exactly is a guardian?”

That was such a loaded question, how to answer something when she had no idea what the answer even was. “One day I woke up and I knew to listen to the words in the wind. Anything I know is because of it.”

“So you’re saying that Cheshire is one of these… Guardians too?”

She laughed. “No, you said that.”

A terrible growl vibrated through his chest.

She held up her hands in a placating fashion. “The truth is I’m not sure how many guardians there are in these woods. There could be twenty, or there could just be me.”

“How could you not know how many guardians there are?”

“Do you know how many huntsmen there are in the world?”

When he didn’t answer she felt the irrational urge to crow about it. But she didn’t, because his flared nostrils and tightly clenched, unbelievably chiseled jaw was good enough for her. But she did clear her throat. Loudly.

She dropped gracefully from the center of the tree they’d been walking on, landing on all fours like any proper cat should. However, there was nothing graceful about the huntsmen. She thought it best not to turn when she heard a loud oomph behind her. Pulling her lips into her mouth she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep him from hearing her, but she must not of been very successful at it, because he was back to growling again.

She thought it best to put him out of his misery. “Man, we are here.” She drew her arm out encompassing the whole of the healing waters. “The spring. As promised.”

“You mean this trickle of water cutting through the land?” His nose wrinkled with obvious disgust.

She was tempted to toss a bucket at his head. There were only two problems wrong with that idea. One, she had no bucket. Two, she had no bucket.

“Dip your foot in it. And before you ask, the one with the cast on it.”

“Bloody hell.”

Why was it so much fun for her to tease him? She must be a little sadistic, because she was enjoying herself far more than she probably should. But if she didn’t tease him, she’d likely make a fool of herself. Because every time he came near her and she smelled his scent of pine and man, it made her heart hammer almost painfully.

Aeric didn’t look convinced, but at least he didn’t ask any more dumb questions either. He awkwardly sat at the bank, and did as she instructed. It was instantaneous, the moment his foot touched the water sparks shot off the stone, like metal grinding on metal. At this point in the process she expected to hear him whining and crying and yelping like he’d done for the past hour. But he surprised her, as he was beginning to do, he didn’t even cringe. There was no facial movement whatsoever. She knew it had to burn like holy hell, because she’d done it once before and shamefully had screeched. Of course her thigh had been split wide open.