Living with the Dead
Page 51

Robyn choked back a laugh. Did he really say werewolves? He was going to have to do better than that if he wanted to scare her.
He couldn't see her. He'd just approximated where the noise had come from.
"Are you going to make me come in there after you, blondie?"
Like to see you try, Mr. Werewolf.
He took a step into the forest. Then another, and another, sauntering along as easily as if he was still on the path, ducking branches she couldn't even see, heading straight for her.
Her shirt.
She'd tried to buy one as dark as possible, but it had white stripes. Against the darkness, she must stand out like a zebra on a dimly lit plain.
She tensed, but held still, hoping she was wrong, that he was still guessing –
He stopped four feet away, his face turning to hers, teeth flashing against the night.
She leapt to her feet and barreled through the undergrowth, glancing over her shoulder to see him still sauntering, unhindered by the brush, not even bothering to run.
She was veering to circle back to the path when she caught the flash of reflective tape on a tree and ran for it. The path. Thank God. She rammed through the last patch of brush. Vines grabbed her feet, but she yanked free and hit the path at a run.
Just find the end. This wasn't the Amazon jungle.
Footsteps pounded on the path behind her. Now he was running.
Just keep going. Keep –
Robyn tripped over a root and sprawled face-first to the dirt, hands flying out, her skinned palms and injured shoulder screaming.
Ignore it. Get up and –
A hand grabbed her foot and yanked. Her face slammed into the dirt. With a bone-wrenching jerk, he flipped her onto her back.
"Not bad, blondie. Not bad at all. Wanna have another go? I figure we have – " He checked his watch. "At least ten minutes before the cavalry arrives. Marsten's good at following a scent, but he'll hate sniffing the ground to do it. Grass stains are a bitch to get out of Armani. Or so I hear."
He was casual and relaxed, still smiling. Sweat dripped into Robyn's eyes. He wasn't even breathing heavy. Just a pleasant jog through the woods. She couldn't escape him, no more than she could Adele.
Ah, but you did escape Adele, Bobby. Look around. She's long gone.
Sure, that was because she was still back at the fair, sipping a soda while her thug partner beat the crap out of Robyn.
She hadn't escaped. She'd run straight into a trap.
 
"Well, are you getting up? I'm going to give you another chance."
"Sure, like Lucy gives Charlie Brown another chance to kick the football."
He threw back his head, laughing. "Sharp one, aren't you? I'm glad to see you still have some spunk. Now let's see you use it. Of course, I don't plan to let you get away, but you don't really have much choice, do you? How about I give you to the count of twenty this time?"
Robyn rose slowly, brushing herself off as she looked around, getting her bearings. The man eased back, relaxing.
"Come on now," he said. "We're on a schedule here."
"Before I do – "
She wheeled, as if to bolt. The man lunged at her. She spun and kicked, aiming for his crotch. She saw her foot flying, on target. At the last second, he grabbed her ankle, so fast she saw only a blur. He whipped her off her feet and threw her. She hit the ground and lay there, gasping, her brain struggling to comprehend why she was on her back and how she got there.
The man stood at least ten feet away. He'd thrown her. Grabbed her by the leg and thrown her like a doll. She stared at him, his slight build, his wiry arms.
He was barely bigger than she was. How the hell had she mistaken him for Karl? Forget that. How the hell had he thrown her ten feet?
"That was good," he said, advancing. "A double fake-out. Of course, I wouldn't be nearly as impressed if you'd succeeded with that kick." He smiled, teeth flashing. "In fact, I'd say if you had managed it, you'd have been in for a double-dose of pain."
Wheezing, she pushed up onto her elbows and inched back. The man strolled over and planted a foot on her chest.
When she rose, tentatively, he kicked her injured shoulder, bringing tears to her eyes.
And still he smiled.
"So, what are you?" he asked. He said something that sounded like "bitch," then continued, "Because if you are, I'd say you need some serious practice with your spellbook. If you cast one, I didn't even notice."
Witch? Had he said witch?
"Maybe half-demon, like your friend?" he continued. "Mmm, now there's a cutie. Nothing against you, blondie, but I like them more exotic."
Was he talking about Hope?
"And from what I hear, she's definitely exotic. Some rare kind of demon, isn't she? The kind that likes trouble." A low, growling laugh. " Really likes trouble, the way I hear it. No wonder Marsten hooked up with her."
Marsten? Robyn struggled to remember Karl's last name. It was Marsten, wasn't it? What the hell was going on?
She squeezed her eyes shut. Forget it. If this was Adele's partner, he was probably just as crazy as she was. Demons and witches and werewolves. Insane.
The man's next words were cut off by his cell phone.
He checked the display. "Ah, the boss. Now keep your mouth shut, blondie, okay? Or else..." He put his foot on her shoulder, making her gasp. Then he answered with a "Hey."
A moment's pause.
"Not so well. Got a bit of a problem. I was following Marsten and his girlfriend, and they led me to the blonde.
Adele was chasing her with a gun. I rescued her, which I figured was what you'd want, but I couldn't do it without making contact. She's not nearly as grateful as she should be."
He listened.
"That's what I figured. I was going to bring her to you, but Marsten's hot on my trail. We've been dodging them, but they're gaining. I can hear him coming right now."
Robyn heard only the wind sighing through the trees.
"I'm just saying, this might not go down the way you were hoping. I have a feeling, as hard as I try to avoid it, fur is gonna fly." His grin belied the regret in his voice. "Marsten's a cold-blooded bastard. Negotiations with a guy like that usually end with corpses. Just so you know."
A pause.
"All right then. I'll do my best – "