Her stomach lurched with nausea. Her body numbed. No. No, no, no. Never. He's not going to die. Don't think like that. You're going to do everything in your power to save him. Besides, she suspected she'd be consumed with eternal grief anyway.
She wanted to reach out and take his hand. She wanted to jump off her ATV and onto his and snuggle in his lap. Wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her close. She didn't. Now was not the time. The stakes were too high.
Later, she promised herself.
As they continued through the snow, she found no hint of human invasion. No footprints or tire tracks. Perhaps the Hunters had already turned back. A girl could hope, anyway. She didn't want them near Lucien.
"Trip wires up ahead," William suddenly warned. "Follow me and don't deviate."
She and Lucien slowed down, getting behind the warrior in a straight line. Anya had the middle and Lucien claimed the rear. Her protector.
"How do you know?" she asked.
"I put them there," he muttered. "A man has to protect himself when immortals are always trying to sneak up on him."
Maybe the Hunters hadn't turned back. Maybe they'd been killed. "Any other little gems you've got waiting out here?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, but he didn't elaborate.
"Like what?" Lucien asked.
Anya could hear the tension in his voice. He's worried for me, the sweetie. Again she wanted to jump on him.
"Bombs, poison berries, ice caves," William said. "You know, all the B-movie stuff."
"Nice," Anya said. But her smile at the thought of all that mischief faded as a new thought occurred to her. What if the Hunters laid a trap for us?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THEY RAN INTO THE HUNTERS three days later in the middle of the mountain.
Lucien should have been happy about that. There was nothing he liked more than killing those delusional zealots. Well, except for Anya. He liked her more than a good fight. But this time, he wasn't happy. Wasn't excited on any level.
He was weak and only growing weaker.
At the moment, he wasn't sure he could fight a mouse and win, much less a determined Hunter.
He'd known this would happen, but he hadn't expected it so quickly. If the days hadn't been so treacherous and the nights so cold, maybe his strength would have lasted longer. But they'd had to abandon their vehicles yesterday, the incline simply too steep. Now they relied on ice spikes, climbing for hours at a time and resting only when absolutely necessary. They ate one meal a day. They didn't really need more. Canned soup, barely heated. Anya could have flashed, but he suspected she didn't want to leave him.
Every night he, Anya and William stopped and set up camp, Anya conjured a fire and the three of them huddled together in a tent for warmth. He never slept, but stayed awake guarding Anya, cherishing every moment they were together. With mortality creeping up on him, he didn't want to miss a single second. He loved holding her close, her strawberry scent enveloping him.
Both William—bad—and Anya—good—seemed to be thriving, yet he could barely carry his pack anymore. He shivered constantly and had even fallen on his face a few times.
Like now.
Anya's arms suddenly banded around him, holding him steady. "Everything's going to be fine once we get to the top," she said. "You'll see."
Mortification rocked him. He was so weak, he could no longer flash. The demon had tried to pull him into the spirit world a few times, but had been unsuccessful and was constantly clamoring in his head, clawing at the doors of his consciousness, making him crazed.
Death couldn't leave him and travel to the souls on its own, because man and spirit were bonded and could not survive apart. Well, Death could survive, but not happily and not without dire consequences, as Lucien had tried to tell Cronus.
The tip of Lucien's boot hit a block of ice, and he stumbled again. Anya's grip tightened and he was able to right himself. Damn this! Cronus had not exaggerated. At this rate, Lucien would be dead in a week.
"Maybe we should leave him here and continue alone," William suggested.
"No!" he and Anya shouted in unison. He didn't want Anya to go on without him. He still didn't trust William.
"You're slowing us down, Death," William said flatly. "I'm ready to get home to my bloodsuckers and my book."
Death, the warrior had said. Neither he nor Anya had told William that Lucien was possessed by the spirit of Death—only that it was pursuing Anya. Who had told him, then?
"Just leave him alone," Anya snapped. She stopped, forcing William to do the same. Glaring, she launched into a tirade about the warrior needing a curling iron shoved up his ass and flipped to its highest setting.
Lucien suspected she did it to give him a moment to rest. Trying to find his breath, he braced a hand against the icy wall of the mountain ledge. What he hated most about his weakness was his inability to protect his woman. He—
Saw footprints, he realized with a frown.
His entire body tensed. "Anya, be quiet."
She whipped around to face him, surprise darkening her eyes. He hadn't spoken to her like that in days. He had been nothing but gentle with her, treating her as he would a precious treasure. That's what she was. But her safety came before her feelings.
"You did not just tell me to—"
"Hunters," he said, motioning to the ground. He withdrew a dagger from his waist.
Both she and William crowded around him, staring down.
"The prints stop at this wall." Anya frowned and pressed at the ice. "There aren't any prints leading away. Weird. Impossible, even."
"They shouldn't have gotten this far," William said with a frown of his own.
Lucien withdrew another dagger, this one from his boot. He almost dropped it, it seemed so heavy.
"There has to be a door that leads inside," Anya muttered, bending down and feeling for grooves with her gloved hands.
He loved that she didn't run from danger but thought to rush into the midst of it. Yet that scared him, too. This woman was meant to be pampered. Worshipped. Protected. She shouldn't have had to fight for anything; whatever she wanted should have been given to her willingly.
"Found it!" Grinning, she pressed against a crystal rock in the middle of the left side and the ice wall slid open, revealing a darkened doorway.
"How is that possible without my knowledge?" William was shaking his head. "I knew people were journeying into the circle, but I watched them die. Didn't I? Either way, how could they have made a fucking camp for themselves?" Silver, three-pronged blades slithered from his coat sleeves and he clutched them angrily. "I don't know how many there are, but I'm going to kill them all. Their intentions are not pure; they could have been paid to take me out."
"Your ferocity is a little late," Anya said. "You have to admit that coming out here was a good idea, and you wouldn't have done it without me stealing your book. You can thank me with roses."
William snorted. "What the hell ever."
She turned a concerned gaze to Lucien. "Why don't you wait here, Flowers, and make sure no one else sneaks inside? We'll be back in a little while and—"
He growled low in his throat, his embarrassment intensifying. That she had so little faith in his ability…No. He knew that wasn't true. She was worried for him. Saw his weakness and didn't want him hurt further.
He knew he was feeble, but he wanted her to realize that he would never allow anything to happen to her. No matter the condition of his body.
He would just have to show her.