Wild Sign (Alpha & Omega #6)(83)

“Ah,” said Asil. “That Ben.” Then, with a fine tension in his voice, he said, “If it has harmed our Anna, kill it.”

“I would be grateful for any advice you might have toward that end,” said Charles. “Sherwood Post failed to kill it. And the witches of Wild Sign think it’s immortal.”

“Is that all?” Asil said. “A wise man once told me that the only way to kill something immortal is to remind it what death is.”

“Suggestions?”

Asil sighed heavily. “Alas, that wise man died before he told me more. Killed himself. Your da is bringing the sword he killed himself with.”

“Jonesy’s sword?”

“Yes,” Asil confirmed.

Charles felt the first hint of optimism. That sword had already killed one immortal being; it might be well suited to killing another. Bless his da for farsightedness.

“ETA?” Charles asked.

“He wasn’t sure. He’s flying into Bend, where the Alpha has a helicopter.”

“Fortune favors the foolish,” murmured Tag from the driver’s side. Then “Blast” as both he and Charles realized that they’d overshot the turnoff.

Charles disconnected and helped Tag spot where Anna had left the highway as they crawled past the area a second time.

“Here,” he said, pointing to where two tracks broke the sod off the highway. It wasn’t any kind of official road. It looked more like a trail that off-roaders had built.

“Yeehaw,” Tag said as they left the pavement. He showed his teeth in a hunter’s smile. “This should be fun.”

Charles helped guide while he thought about how to kill the Singer if his da didn’t make it in time. As far as he was concerned, this second attack—third?—on Anna had signed its death warrant.



* * *



*

HE GOT THE Suburban stuck—high-centered on a rock. Anna was pretty sure she’d heard the oil pan go. Certainly she smelled motor oil as she got out.

Run, something inside her urged.

She knew she could outrun Zander in the dark, even on the side of a mountain that he appeared to be quite familiar with. She didn’t know where that confidence came from. She’d quit track in elementary school in favor of private violin lessons. She wasn’t . . . shouldn’t be in shape for a race in the forest.

She looked down and had no trouble seeing the hard muscle on her arms that looked as though she’d been in training for the Olympics or something.

She deserved an Olympic medal.

She waited for the strange thought to go somewhere. When it didn’t, she continued to take stock of her oddly alien body. She’d never been the kind of girl who obsessed about being in shape. But this wasn’t just her arms. She could feel the strength in her legs. When she reached up to touch her biceps, she encountered hard flesh.

For an instant she smelled pine and felt the snow give under her as she ran in joyous abandon.

While she was still processing that, Zander’s hand wrapped around her upper arm just above her own. Relief washed over her. She was safe with him.

Run.





CHAPTER





12


It started to rain. A light pattering rain at first, blown a little by a breeze. But it wasn’t long before the rain was pelting down and the wind was blowing so hard that Anna had trouble keeping her hair out of her face so she could see.

“Are you cold?” Zander asked, concerned. “You should have brought a jacket.”

She pulled the now-wet flannel shirt around her protectively. “I’m fine,” she said. And it was true. Though the rain was cold, it didn’t seem to be chilling her as she would have expected.

“In Montana,” she told Zander, “a storm this late in the fall would probably be a snowstorm, not a rainstorm. A little rain won’t stop me.”

And then she wondered why in the world she’d been talking about Montana. She’d never been to—

She had a sudden vision of looking at a magnificent snow-covered landscape, unfolding below her in shades of blue. Of the cold biting her nose and the snow squeaking under her snowshoes, sounding a little like bedsprings.

She stumbled to a halt. Bedsprings.

“Stop lollygagging,” Zander said, smiling as he tugged on her arm. “We’ve got a few miles to go and we’re only going to get wetter.”

Zander seemed to have trouble seeing their path through the night-dark woods, stumbling over rocks and roots that Anna had no trouble with. She scrambled up a steep place in the trail, and waited at the top while he found his own path up.

“The last person I took up here was part mountain goat, too,” he complained cheerfully. “I’ve spent my life climbing mountainsides, and you show me up.”

She shrugged because she didn’t have an answer for him. She hadn’t done anything more athletic than marching band, but this hike didn’t feel as difficult as it looked. The few times she’d slipped as they climbed up wet rocks, she’d had no trouble catching herself. It felt like she’d suddenly turned into Spider-Man. But that made no sense.

If she’d been totally comfortable with him—and she felt bad that she wasn’t—she would have teased him about being slow. She didn’t know the elevation. Maybe it was lower than home and that was giving her an oxygen boost.