Hart and Hunter

Chapter 27

Ch. 27: Julian

As we run, my senses expand and my Fae features manifest once more. I taste blood and spit to the side.

Anyone who thinks it would be cool to have sharp teeth hasn't cut their lip on their fangs repeatedly.

At my side, Halloran moves with swift and silent grace, and I wonder if my own exertions appear so effortless. I doubt it, given the way my muscles burn and my breath rasps heavily in my ears. I've been running since high school, but while I've always felt I had a natural affinity for the sport, I never suspected I might have more than natural abilities. Not until after I learned of my Fae ancestry, at least.

As we near the place where it seemed the sounds originated, we slow our pace and proceed more cautiously, eyes and ears straining for a sign. Silence reigns beneath the night-shrouded trees, and if Halloran hadn't heard them too, I could almost convince myself I'd imagined the yelps of distress.

I glance at him, wondering if we ought to disrupt the stillness by calling for Ingrid — or for Dane and Freya, whom I can't imagine had failed to hear her cry. He seems to read my thoughts and raises a finger to his lips, shaking his head slightly before turning back to the search.

Ahead, a moonlit glow reveals a small clearing, and Halloran reaches over to bar my way with his arm, bringing us both to a halt. With a few gestures, he warns me to stay back and keep quiet while he takes the lead.

We creep forward through the trees, alert to the slightest rustle of leaves, until we reach the meadow's edge. There, we pause, letting our senses absorb the night.

Something is wrong, and it takes me a moment to realize what it is. No crickets chirp in the brush; no late-season frogs sing a last autumn song from the streams; no rustles or whispers betray the presence of small creatures moving among the leaves.

"Anything?"

Halloran's whisper startles me, sounding as loud as a shout in my ear. I wince and rub the side of my head, barely breathing my reply.

"No. It's quiet."

"Too quiet," he agrees.

A chill creeps up my back. He's right: with our senses so attuned, we should be able to hear the field mice fart, but I can't hear a thing beyond the meadow's edge. It's almost as if we're standing in a bubble of silence.

The thought has barely crossed my mind when Halloran hisses a curse. His grasp on my arm tightens painfully, and I gasp as he yanks me to the side and shoves me against a tree.

His strength is surprising, and he's pressed so close to me that I can barely breathe. I feel more than hear him speak with his lips against my ear.

"Don't move."

"What th—"

He covers my mouth with his hand, stifling even my whisper.

"It's a trap. Can you go Unseen?" His warm breath tickles my ear and I shudder as old fears awaken to join my present alarm.

I nod. Thankfully, his hold on me eases and he steps back. No sooner has he done this, though, than he goes completely still in a way that tells me something isn't right.

"Rian?" I mouth his name, but he merely stares at me, the gleam of his sapphire blue eyes just visible in the dark. Another sort of gleam glints at his throat, and I see the curve of a long blade beneath his chin. Behind him, a figure stands, barely distinguishable from the shadows, and two more emerge from the darkness beneath the trees — Fae, undoubtedly, though not like any I've seen.

The strangers wear fitted clothing made of soft gray leather or suede, which blends seamlessly with the dappled shadows. Two appear male, one female, and all are tall and pale with long, dark hair. They're armed, and one of those standing further back carries a limp, furry form over one shoulder.