Revenge and the Wild(90)

Hubbard Fairfield looked at his dead wife’s head. He didn’t fall to his knees or sob like he had at Olive’s funeral. Instead he turned to Westie and calmly picked up the knife that had belonged to Lavina.

Alistair saw Hubbard heading toward Westie. Alistair jumped onto Hubbard’s back, but he was no match for the giant man. Hubbard flicked him off like a stubborn bug and continued his path of rage.

Westie felt a rush of fear sweep her away, back to her childhood, into the cabin in the woods where she had first come face-to-face with the emotional void of Hubbard’s stare. She had been a scared child back then, but she wasn’t that helpless little girl any longer. No matter how frightened she was, she would not run from him again.

He charged toward her, the knife ready to strike. She lifted her arm just as she once had to defend herself, but before the blade could meet her machine, an arrow with bright-red feathers at its end pierced his eye and sank into his skull, killing him instantly.

Westie gasped and whipped around to see Bena still poised with bow in hand. Alistair came up beside Westie, worrying over her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

He had a deep gash above his eye after being thrown from Hubbard’s back. She should’ve been asking him the same thing. “I’m fine.” After a quick study of her surroundings, she decided all threats had been eliminated. The mayor was gone. She looked over just in time to see James and the torch he was carrying disappear into the woods. “You have to help Costin,” she said to Alistair. “Whatever it takes to stop his pain, you have to do it, you hear?”

She wanted to stay with Costin, to say good-bye, but she couldn’t let James escape. She had seen the evil inside him and knew there was more to come.

Alistair nodded. Westie started to leave, but he grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”

“To get James.”

“No, Westie, please.”

She reached out, touched his hair, remembering the silky feel of it. “I have to. You know I do.”

He looked ready to protest further but sighed and let her go.

Despite Nigel’s frantic mumbling beneath his gag when she walked past him, Westie took off after James, leaving Bena and Alistair to help Costin and untie Nigel. Westie chased the sphere of light through the forest. Even with fresh mud on the ground, she had gained on him far quicker than she imagined until she was right on him. The light stopped behind a copse of trees. Her mouth was dry and it was hard to breathe, but there was no time to rest.

Perhaps James thought he was far enough away that he was safe. She snuck up to the gathering of trees, treading as lightly as possible. Turning the corner, she found his torch abandoned on the ground and coughed the last of her breath from her lungs.

The scent of spiced cologne reached her before the sound of crackling branches behind her. That was when she knew she’d been duped. Turning, she came face-to-face with her brother. Seeing him standing there was no surprise, but the sadness wrinkling his mouth was. He was out of breath and holding a branch the size of a club in his hand. She’d been disarmed by the expression on his face, and so the danger hadn’t registered until it was too late. James swung the weapon toward her, its breeze whispering against her skin before hitting the side of her cheek with a crunch.

Something in her jaw gave. She fell to the ground. Pain flared red before her eyes while flashes of light snapped in her peripheral vision. Her breath left her in gushes. James stepped forward until he stood above her. She looked at his feathered edges, struggling to bring his features into focus.

“Ouch,” he said wryly, studying her. “That looks like it hurts.” There was a playful ring to his voice.

Westie reached up to touch her face. Her skin felt tight and achy underneath all the pain. It felt somehow off. She tried to talk, but it was difficult. Not only because of the pain it caused, but because her lips didn’t match up.

James knelt down beside her. “It’s too bad it had to end this way. I really didn’t want to hurt you. The old part of me, the boy who was Tripp, secretly hoped we could run away together and go on adventures like we had in the cornfields in Kansas. Do you remember that?”

She would’ve spit curses at him had she been able to move her mouth. Every memory of her childhood would be tainted because of what Tripp had become. Her happy childhood before the journey west felt like a lie.

James tapped the branch against his leg. “I looked up to you, you know. You were so funny, always full of mischief. When we were kids, I wanted to be just like you. I really am sorry for what I have to do. I want to let you go, really I do, but you’re too hardheaded for that. I know you would never stop searching until you found me. If I’m to find a cure for this blasted prairie sickness, I can’t have you on my trail.”

The pain in her jaw bellowed as she opened her mouth to speak. “Are you going to eat me?” The words came out squishy but were easy enough to understand.

His eyes darted between her face and her machine, always on the watch. If her vision had steadied, even only a little, she would’ve battered him with it.

“I thought about it. Some native tribes believe that by eating the heart of one’s enemy they gain his strength. With your heart I could be invincible. But I can’t imagine, even in death, you going down without a fight.” He winked at her. “You’d probably give me a wicked case of indigestion.”