Embraced By Darkness

The red gate came into view. It was a big, wooden affair that merged into the surrounding ferns and was stained almost black. The gated opened as I neared, meaning someone was watching, even if I couldn't see them. Maybe the whole island was dotted with cameras.

I walked through, realizing as I did that the gates weren't actually black, but a very dark, reddish color. A dark red that smelled of death.

Blood stained that wood, not paint.

A shudder went through me, which was probably the precise reaction they were after. It had to be a tactic to u

I headed into the shadows of the nearby forest. The trees and ferns closed in, surrounding me with shadows. I pulled them closer, hiding my form, and followed the rise of the land. I needed to get up higher and see just what was around me. Maybe even get some idea of where the buildings were, and where Rhoan might be.

I ran up the steep slope, trying to slip past the heavy fern fronds without breaking them, keeping to firmer ground so my footsteps weren't as visible—a difficult task when the ground was so covered by leaves and other forest rubbish.

Sweat began to trickle down my spine and my leg started to ache. Too much more and I'd probably begin to limp. Not what I needed right now. I blew out a breath and struggled on, only to slip on a bit of rotten leaf matter and come down hard on my knees.

And noticed then, as I was biting back a yelp of pain, that the cheery songs of the birds had suddenly silenced.

Felt the sting of silver fly over the top of my head and punch a hole in the tree trunk three feet ahead.

Ten-minute head start my ass.

Though why I had been stupid enough to believe it was anyone's guess. I mean, it wasn't like I was unfamiliar with bad men making promises they never intended to keep. Swearing softly, I swung around and sucked in the air, trying to scent my pursuers.

Nothing.

No giveaway aromas, no sound. The forest was deathly quiet and very still, yet an odd sort of tension seemed to run through the trees.

Human tension. The sort of tension that came with excitement and danger.

I might not be able to see or smell them, but something within me could feel them. Or rather, feel what they were feeling. Which normally would have pissed me off, simply because I shouldn't have been able to feel such a thing. But right now—and for the first time in my life—I was actually thankful that the drugs were producing a talent that was immediately useful.

They were down the hill and to my left. Not close, but obviously close enough to use a rifle sight. Which they were probably using right now to get another fix on me. Maybe the shadows weren't as deep or as thick as I'd presumed, and the gathering light was enough to break my cover.

Either way, I couldn't stay here. I scrambled upright and pushed through the ferns, keeping low as I ran, not worrying about leaving a trail for them to follow. It was better to simply get some distance between us again.

Fronds and branches whipped across my body as I ran, making me wish I had a sweater on. Preferably a dark one. But I was stuck with a bright yellow tank top, which meant that I might as well stand still and wave a target in the middle of all this lush greenery.

Which had me wondering again just where this island was situated. We couldn't be along the coast anywhere near my home state. Victorian islands were more scrubby than lush, and it certainly would have been a whole lot colder at this early hour of the day.

I continued to scramble upward. The smell of my sweat stained the air, and my lungs were begi

Easy enough to track, if the twins had good hearing.

And they obviously did, because they were still behind me, still chasing. I might have vampire speed, but in this environment it was damn hard to use it. And every now and again I felt the quiver of silver approaching, heard the ping of a bullet off a nearby tree trunk.

The crest of the hill finally came into sight. The trees didn't thin out, however, remaining as thick at the top as they'd been on the slope. I paused, reaching for that sense that allowed me to "feel" them. One was heading to my left, the other to the right. They were still below me but not climbing any farther just yet.

I had time to see where the hell I was.

I quickly sca

I swung out on a thick branch, walking along carefully until the bough dipped and quivered under my weight. The island stretched before me, a small dot of green in the otherwise blue surrounds of the sea. We had to be in Queensland—or at least the top end of New South Wales—somewhere, given that blueness. Victorian waters looked a whole lot darker and colder. There didn't seem to be any rooftops poking out through the trees below me, but there was a sandy-looking road that wound up from the beach. I followed the course of that road, edging around on my branch, and finally spotted a building sitting in a clearing one hill over.

It didn't appear to be a house, or even a barn like the one I'd been taken into. It was small and squat, and very, very strong looking. A cell, I thought, for dangerous quarry. That's where Rhoan would be.

All I had to do now was get rid of my pursuers then get over there and free him. Easy.

Not.

Another bullet burned through the air, this time slicing past my ear and drawing blood. I yelped softly and dropped to the ground, the shock of the jump reverberating up my spine and sending shooting pain through my healing leg. I brushed my fingers against the ground to regain my balance and sucked in the thick, aromatic air.

This time, I smelled Jorn. He was to my right, and moving fast. I called to my wolf form and shifted shape, then ran left and down, intending to come up underneath him. I ran fast—limping only a little—and kept to the shadows, my wolf form more suited to this sort of landscape, making little noise and leaving nothing in the way of a trail.

He shouldn't have seen me. Shouldn't have heard me.

Yet somehow, he did.

This time I was close enough to hear the muted sound of a gunshot before the bullet even neared me. I threw myself sideways, restraining a yelp as a rock dug painfully into my side, then rose and ran straight for his scent.

Another gunshot.

Another bullet dodged.

Then his scent filled the air and he was before me. I launched straight at him, teeth bared, a growl rumbling up my throat.

He scrambled backward, excitement and fear flashing across his features as he attempted to raise the rifle and use it as a club. I was on him before he succeeded, my teeth slashing past cloth and deep into flesh. Blood filled my mouth, exciting the wolf, sickening the human. I ignored the latter, ripping my teeth sideways, taking a huge chunk of flesh with me.

He screamed and hit me hard in the side. It felt like iron, that blow, and pain rose—a red tide that momentarily blotted out the wolfs eagerness. Winded and aching, I leapt away, spitting out his blood and skin as I twisted around to face him.

His left arm was a torn mess. Blood poured from the wound, soaking his shirt, filling the air with its scent. He was lucky. I'd been aiming for his neck, and I hadn't missed by much.

"For this," he said, moving his bloody left arm, "you will pay."

I bared my teeth and growled, then hunkered down low and launched myself at him again. He swung the rifle around, using the stock like a club, the weapon swishing through the air with enough force to break bones. I twisted away, felt the breeze of it skim past my already bruised side. My claws dug into the soft soil as I hit the ground, the dirt flying free as I jumped at him again.