He teleported outside, his claymore raised and ready for battle.
He would kill them. Every last one of them.
He stormed down the dirt path that led to the nearby caves. The wind blew stronger, tossing the trees and littering the path with small branches and pinecones. Loose locks of hair whipped across his face. He shoved the strands back and glanced up at the moon. It was an eerie blue, almost completely enshrouded with thick clouds. Good. The darkness would conceal his attack. Theyd never know he was coming until his sharp blade plunged through their black hearts.
Kill them. Kill them all.
He halted with a sudden slap of clarity. The same cold rage. The same black night. The same icy-blue vision. The same storm-tossed trees and scent of pine. Kill them all.
His extra-sensitive, glowing eyes stung with the biting wind. What a fool he was. Did he have no more control over his rage than hed had centuries ago? What if Casimir had fifty minions with him? A hundred? Was he so damned bloodthirsty that he would walk into a trap?
He slipped into the woods, leaned back against a tree trunk, closed his eyes, and took deep breaths. Control yerself. His heartbeat slowed. The rage dimmed.
He opened his eyes, and his sight was back to normal. He retrieved his cell phone from his sporran. No signal. Bugger. He didnt want to leave the area unguarded while he teleported to Romatech. He headed back toward the lodge. Still no signal. He couldnt risk sending Angus a telepathic message since any Malcontents nearby would be able to hear it.
His gaze fell on the gleaming granite heads in the distance. Mount Rushmore. He could probably get a signal there. And hed have a birds-eye view of the entire area. If anyone ventured from the caves, hed spot them.
The world went black for a second, then he was there, his feet making contact with solid rock. Before he could gain his bearings, a hard wind slammed into his back and shoved him forward. Damn. Hed landed too close to the edge of Washingtons forehead. He skidded to a stop as a few loose rocks skittered over the precipice.
With his feet more firmly planted, he gazed down the mountain. Pinging noises echoed in the wind as the rocks bounced their way to the bottom. Hed come close to plummeting, but it probably wouldnt have killed him. He would have simply teleported to a safe place before hitting the ground.
On the hill in front of him, rows of aluminum benches climbed the slope like a giant staircase, forming an outdoor theater. The hill was topped with a visitor center and parking lots. All empty. A good thing since he didnt want an audience to witness him teleporting about. Or see his cold arse every time the wind tossed his kilt up.
With an annoyed growl, he shoved his kilt down again, then focused on the nearby hills. His superior vision zeroed in on the campground. No movement there. He spotted the rocky outcropping nearby that housed the caves. Quiet for now.
He punched in Anguss number, and the call went through.
The devil take it, Angus growled. I told you no to go alone. Do ye have a bloody death wish?
I have a report if ye care to hear it.
I care about following orders, Angus shouted. Maybe ye doona value yer own sorry hide, but
Seven dead in the main lodge, Connor interrupted. That should put a stop to the annoying lecture. He was awarded by a moment of silence.
Seven? Angus asked quietly.
Aye. Casimirs usual MO. The victims were drained dry,throats cut. His jaw clenched. Three children.
Angus cursed in Gaelic. That bloody bastard. Any sign of him? Nay, forget that! Doona do a damned thing until we get there.
A strong gust of wind pummeled Connor, and he raised his voice. The murders occurred earlier this evening. Casimir could be long gone.
Or he could be holed up in those bloody caves, Angus said. Ill gather some men. Stay out of sight until we get there. Do ye hear me? Doona investigate on yer own. Thats an order.
Connors gaze flickered south, distracted by a bolt of lightning. Bugger. There he was, standing on top of a mountain with a sword in his hand during a lightning storm.
What? Angus demanded. Did ye see something?
A vision of himself fried to a crisp. Connor tossed his sword into the forest behind the carved heads. The sky flickered again, and he whirled around to catch the end of another lightning flash. Strange. The lightning had hit in the same place twice.
Connor! Angus yelled. Whats going on?
Something . . . wrong. He narrowed his eyes. A few miles south of the campground.
Another flash lit up the dark sky.
His breath caught. It wasnt coming from the sky. Ill call ye back.
Connor, doona
He hung up and dropped the phone into his sporran. He debated fetching his sword, but decided to leave it behind. Instead, he retrieved a wooden stake from his sporran. No sense in drawing the lightning to him. Although he wasnt quite sure it was lightning.
A drop of rain plopped onto the top of his head, and he glanced up. Another raindrop splattered on his nose, then rolled a chilly path across his cheek. He wiped his face, then focused on the area where hed seen the flash of light. Everything went black.
He materialized in the dark shadow of trees, his feet landing on the soft cushion of pine needles. The light patter of raindrops sounded overhead, not yet heavy enough to filter through the thick canopy of treetops. He moved silently through the forest, tracing the scent of burnt wood and smoke.
When he heard a mans voice, he edged close enough to hear the words but remained hidden behind a large tree trunk.
You left them still alive! the man yelled. I had to go back to finish your job.
Connor stiffened. Either these were Malcontents, or hed stumbled across some mortals on a murdering rampage.
We received our orders, the man continued. The humans were all supposed to die.
Malcontents. A mortal never referred to his own kind as humans. Connor tamped down on the rage that seethed within. He needed to stay calm and controlled. His grip tightened on the wooden stake. He had four more in his sporran and the dagger in his knee sock. But before he attacked he needed to know how many bastards he was up against.
A female whispered a response, too faint for him to hear. Even so, the timbre of her voice lifted the hairs on the back on his neck. It brushed his skin like a caress. Bugger. This was no way to react to a bloody Malcontent.
Her voice grew stronger as she made her final declaration. I can no longer do this.
Was she rebelling? Connors heart lurched. If he could capture her alive, she could tell them all sorts of information.
You must follow orders, the man snapped.
There was no reason for them all to die, she argued. I only wished to spare the children.
You have failed to follow orders, Marielle, he growled.
You must pay the consequences.
No. Her whisper trembled. Zack, please.
The fear in her lovely voice made Connors gut clench, and he was seized with an overwhelming need to protect her. Bah, protect a Malcontent? She deserved to die.
This is your third act of disobedience, the man announced in a booming voice. The decision has been made. You will be banished.
No!
The anguish in her voice was more than Connor could bear. Bloody hell. He would save her.
He slid the dagger from his knee sock. As far as he could tell, there were only the two Malcontents: the male called Zack and the female, Marielle. Hed take the male by surprise, turn him to dust, then grab the female and teleport her to Romatech where he could thoroughly question her.
A dagger in one hand, a stake in the other, he zoomed toward their voices.
An intense flash of light stunned him, and he halted, his eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Bugger, how could he save her when he couldnt see?
Her scream tore through him.
Nay, he growled. He fought through the pain and forced his eyes open. His vision sparkled with stars so badly, he stumbled over a fallen branch and bumped against a tree trunk. Still, he could discern a glowing fire ahead, and he headed toward it. The scent of burnt flesh wafted toward him, and a sick feeling coiled in his gut. Had the bastard set her on fire?
She screamed again. To hell with this. He ran toward her, shoving branches out of the way.
A ball of fire exploded with another searing, blinding light. He turned his head, eyes squeezed shut.
Boom. A blast of air whooshed against him, tossing him through the air and slamming him against a tree. His head hit hard, and he collapsed onto the ground.
He lay there dazed, pain thrumming in his head. What the hell was that? Some kind of bomb? Even with his eyes shut, stars twinkled with painful brilliance against his closed eyelids. He rubbed his eyes, willing the stars and pain to go away. Somewhere in his confused mind, he realized his weapons were gone. And the rain had stopped. How much time had passed while he lay there helpless?