Hunting Medusa: The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1 (37 page)

Kallan made his way along the slope until he was about five yards away, then took one of the daggers he’d stuck in his belt that morning and hurled it into the left side of Theo’s back. Heart shot.

His cousin went down with a soft thump.

Then there was one.

He made his way back up the hill, watching for Kosmo, who was still investigating the area of the sound. Kosmo wasn’t the smartest of the cousins, he mused, moving into a position just below the other man, behind a small mound of young trees that had fallen during some rainstorm, their roots not deep enough to hold them in place.

Kosmo muttered under his breath, his gaze skittering around the area and his brow damp with sweat. Nervous.

Kallan smiled to himself as he felt around for another small rock.

Kosmo was a city boy—not a country boy—and he jumped, whirling in a circle when the stone cracked hard into a tree trunk several feet away from him. He drew his own blade and scanned the surrounding area. A squirrel overhead chattered at him, startling him again.

Kallan took the opportunity to hurl his next dagger into the front of his cousin’s white T-shirt. A red stain spread rapidly over the cotton from the blood pumping out of his heart. Kosmo dropped to his knees, looking shocked, then onto his face in the soft blanket of decomposing leaves on the forest floor.

Two down.

He retrieved his daggers, cleaning them on his cousins’ shirts before replacing the blades in their sheaths. Feeling only slightly better, he made his way back up the slope toward the house.

Andi heard the footsteps coming through the trees and her head shot up before she realized it was probably Kallan.

“Andrea?”

She shut her eyes, relief rushing along her veins and easing her cramps just a tiny bit. “Here.”

The footfalls grew nearer, and then he was there, kneeling in the dirt beside her. “Did you—”

She nodded. “I need a shower and my bed.”

He brushed one hand over the top of her head. “I’ll see what we can do about that,
agaph
.”

“Kallan!”

She jerked under his touch, hearing the other man’s deeply accented voice nearby, and her pulse doubled its pace.

“I thought you dealt with Stavros.” His whisper was harsh.

“I got somebody,” she breathed. “Back at the edge of the tree line.”

He shifted beside her, then blew out a hard breath. “Not Stavros. Sebastyen. That means Stavros can cloak his presence too.” Now that his cousin knew Kallan was his enemy, he was clearly taking no chances.

“I know you’re there, Kallan.”

“We need to move,” he breathed against her ear, easing one hand under her elbow to help her up.

“Did you kill your own family? For a monster?”

She could hear Kallan grinding his teeth, and touched his forearm blindly. “Where?”

“I can’t see him from here.”

She swallowed. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“I can deal with him.”

“He’ll be armed.” He grasped her hand, tight. “We need better cover.”

Andi balked. “I’m armed, too. I took a gun and another knife from the big guy. I’m done running.”

“Then
I’m
going to deal with him.” He kissed her forehead, cupping the side of her face. “Don’t move.”

“Uncle Ari will be very disappointed in you, Kallan.” His cousin was nearer now, not bothering to be quiet as he moved among the trees.

She tensed, ready to turn to face the cousin, but Kallan’s breath brushed her ear. “Trust me,
meli
. Promise.”

She let out a slow breath. It was now or never. She nodded. “I do.”

A small smile curved his lips along her skin. “I’ll be right back.”

She leaned back against the tree as much as her backpack would allow, feeling the rough bark under her fingertips.
Please Gods, keep him safe.

He was silent as he moved away from her, and her heart raced with fear for him.

“Just give her to me, Kallan.” Stavros was farther away now—more toward the tree line, she realized. “I’m sure the family can forgive you. Somehow. Someday.”

“I don’t need forgiveness, Stavros.” His voice rang out confidently.

Her eyes shot open, and it took tremendous effort to stay right where she was, to not rush out to his aid. Her fingers dug harder into the bark.

“Of course, you do. You lied to Uncle Ari. To me. You helped that monster escape her rightful end.”

“I helped the woman I love.”

“Love?” His cousin laughed, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “You can’t love her. The Tassos family has been tracking these monsters for centuries to expose them to the world. They aren’t women, and they can’t be loved. They’re not worthy of it.”

“They aren’t monsters, just women dealing with something they shouldn’t have to. But I don’t expect you to understand them.”

She shut her eyes. Judging by the sound of his voice, he was standing near his cousin—probably face-to-face.
Gods, don’t let him die for me.

Stavros sighed dramatically. “What have you done with our cousins?”

Silence.

“You
have
killed them.” Surprise tinged the other man’s voice this time. “I wouldn’t have believed it of you, Kallan. Never you, always the good Harvester.”

“How long have you been able to cloak your presence?”

It was Stavros’s turn to be silent for a moment. “So you can sense other Harvesters. I wondered. Theo seemed to think so.”

“Enough talking, Stavros. No one is coming to your rescue this time.”

“You might be surprised. I believe Piers…” His voice trailed off. “You realize everyone knows where she lives, don’t you, cousin? I’ve made certain of it. If you kill me too, someone else will just come here to finish the job.”

A thud reached her ears, the sound of flesh meeting flesh, and she huddled there, wanting badly to go out to him, despite the cramps that made her also want to curl into a ball where she stood. Despite her promise. But she waited. Kallan had asked her to trust him, and she had to believe he’d come back to her alive.

Still, the sounds of their fighting made her curl her fingers tighter into the tree.

“Bastard,” snarled Stavros several minutes later, his accented voice muffled. She hoped Kallan had knocked his teeth out.

More thumping as fists met flesh. Soft grunts accompanied each one, and she swallowed back a cry.

“Of course you won’t make this easy,” Stavros growled, and she heard the sound of metal sliding out of leather.

Her knees buckled, and she slid down to the dirt, biting her lip.

Metal clashed with metal this time, and she curled forward until her forehead rested on her knees, both in relief at knowing Kallan was still fighting, and to ease the fisting in her abdomen.

Someone hissed in a breath, then there was nothing but the sound of footsteps, probably as they circled one another.

Oh dear Gods, not Kallan.

“Can’t you find a suitable woman?” Stavros panted some time later. “You have to settle for a monster?”

His taunt was followed by a surprised hiss, which she hoped was from Stavros being cut.

“It’s a shame you need so much help to do a job and still can’t manage it.” Kallan laughed a little while later, then laughed again when his cousin growled at him. Heavy footsteps thudded on the ground, and she guessed he was charging Kallan.

Andi couldn’t stand it. She forced her wobbly legs to push her upright once more, using the tree for support. Her belly clenched tighter, but she ignored it.

A heavy thump met her ears, and Stavros cursed, then sucked in a harsh breath. “You would kill me, too? Your own blood?” His words were slurred, making her think he had indeed lost some teeth.

Kallan was silent for a moment. “If you had asked me that a month ago, I would never have said yes. Not even knowing everything I knew about you already. But now…” There was a brief pause. “I feel sorry for you, cousin,” he finished more quietly, his breath still coming quickly.

She made her way to the next tree, catching it to remain upright, her cramps tightening like a vise. He could deal with Stavros. She just needed to get in the house and collapse somewhere clean and comfortable.

Another sharp pain, this time from her back. Her knees gave out again, and she landed on all fours in the shadows of her forest.
Oh Gods!
This was worse than even her cramps. She lowered her head to the back of her hands and panted, feeling as if a hot knife now pierced her skin. Her entire focus centered on the pain there, fiery and jagged. She thought she might have moaned, but she couldn’t be sure.

It went on for an eternity, and when it finally vanished—as suddenly as it had started—she found herself sprawled flat on the ground, panting, her clothing soaked with sweat.

Footsteps pounded toward her, and she shut her eyes automatically.

“Andrea.” Kallan’s hands eased her backpack from her shoulders, down her arms. “
Agaph
.” He knelt at her side, one hand stroking over the back of her head and nape. “Can you get up?”

She shook her head. “Give me a minute,” she whispered.

He ignored that and rolled her to her side, then her back, and then scooped her into his arms. She put her wet face against his shoulder, relaxing. If Kallan was here now, it was over. At least for now.

She realized when he started climbing that he’d carried her inside the house, and she smiled into his shirt.

When he set her on the closed toilet, she took a slow, deep breath. “Are you all right?”

“Just a scratch or two,” he muttered, tugging her boots and socks off, then going to turn on the shower. “Let’s get you in here.”

“I feel better.” She let him pull her to her feet, realizing it was true. Her cramps had stopped. She frowned. That had never happened before.

She raised her arms when he tugged her shirt up, then let him unfasten her jeans. “I’ll grab something clean for you.” His footsteps left the room, and she finished undressing so when he returned, he could herd her into the shower.

When he sucked in his breath, she went still. “Kallan?”

“It’s gone.” His fingers stroked over her back, where the sharp pain had been minutes ago.

“What is?”

“The amulet.”

Her eyes popped open, and she stared at the tiled wall of her shower. “Oh my Gods,” she breathed.

“Come here.” He pulled her back out of the shower, and she closed her eyes automatically. “I think you can open them,
agaph
.”

She opened her eyes cautiously, looking over her shoulder at her reflection. Her mouth went dry.

The tattoo was changed. No more snake wound around the stem of the goblet. No goblet. Just the flowers blooming in bright pinks and reds on her lower back, fuller now that the cup was gone from the middle.

She met his gaze in the mirror, and found him smiling. “My cramps are gone, too,” she said unsteadily.

His smile widened further. “Really?” One of his hands settled low on her belly, over the spot that had been so painful just ten minutes ago.

She nodded, turning her head around to look up at him. Nothing happened to him. Her legs started shaking, and he eased her backward to lean against the counter, then moved in front of her to wrap his arms around her. Her fingers trembled when she lifted them to grip his shoulders.

“I think the curse has moved on,
agaph
,” he whispered on the top of her head.

She closed her eyes and felt them stinging. Her whole body was quaking.

She was no longer the Medusa.

Kallan held onto her until the trembling eased, and when she lifted her head, she noted the wet spot on his shoulder from her tears. And the bloody spots beneath the slashes in his shirt.

“Are you all right?” She eased away, reaching for the hem.

“I’m fine. Just scratches.” He let her raise the garment to inspect them.

They looked like more than scratches. One was about six inches long and still oozing blood. Another was a shorter slash, but it was apparently deeper, as the blood flow there was steadier.

“I promise, they’ll be fine later.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her lightly.

“You need to clean them.” She lifted his shirt higher, until he had to release her to take it off.

“Fine. Get in the shower, and you can help.” He winked at her.

She wasn’t about to argue with him, and watched while he kicked off the rest of his clothing. “We have clean-up to do, don’t we? Outside?” She hated to think of that, but knew it would have to be done before she could sell the house.

“Later.” He pointed, and she stepped into the shower. He followed her, then turned on the water and adjusted it to a comfortable temperature before guiding her under the spray. He sighed, then hissed in a breath when she slid the soap over one of his wounds. “Bloodthirsty,” he teased.

She shook her head, lathering up her hands to carefully wash his cuts. “You’re supposed to get out of the way when someone swings a dagger at you.”