Night Quest. Susan Krinard

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СКАЧАТЬ neck, and a paralyzing shock jolted her nerves and froze her muscles. She felt her useless body being dragged across the ground and through the mud, the wires cutting deeper as the humans found a patch of dry earth far from any hint of shade.

      The sky had grown pale in the east. The sun was minutes away from rising, and her body ignored every command her brain tried to send it. She was aware of increasing pain as the humans jostled the net and anchored it to the ground, driving stakes into the earth to pin its edges so tight and close that she wouldn’t find even the smallest opening.

      Still, she tried. The paralysis broke, and she flung herself up and against the stinging web, cutting what remained of her clothes to ribbons and shredding the skin of her hands while the guttural laughter of the humans echoed inside her skull.

      Then they stepped back, denying her what little shelter their shadows might provide, and watched the first rays of the sun strike her bleeding fingers.

      She didn’t intend to scream. She fought it with all the discipline and self-control she had learned both in the Citadel and as an exile in the wilderness.

      But her own cry deafened even the laughter of the humans, and the last thing she saw was the bright hair of a man with green eyes blazing like emeralds in the rising sun.

      * * *

      For a few fleeting seconds Garret considered the possibility of leaving the Opir woman to her fate. There were five men, all carrying modified assault rifles, and numerous knives and bladed weapons. It would be impossible to approach them without being seen.

      He’d faced similar odds before and met them head-on. But he had expected a human woman, not a Freeblood. For all he knew, the female might be among the most vicious rogues in this patch of wilderness, as bad as those who had taken his son.

      And if anything were to happen to him now, there would be no one to look for Timon. No one to save him from whatever fate the rogues intended for him.

      But the militiamen were torturing the woman, and that was far beyond the pale of what Garret could accept. He had no doubt of what Roxana would have done if she were here.

      Kneeling behind a screen of shrubs, Garret separated the VS into its component parts and returned them to his pack. Raising his hands above his head, he walked out into the clearing. Almost as one, the militiamen lifted their rifles and pointed them at his chest.

      “Human,” Garret said in his mildest voice, trying to ignore the muffled moans of the Opir woman in the net. “Peace.”

      Two of the men lowered their rifles. The others held steady. The eldest of the bunch, grizzled and scarred, stepped forward.

      “Who are you?” he demanded, his hand on the butt of his hunting knife.

      “My name is Garret Fox,” Garret said. “I’m looking for my son, who was taken by rogue bloodsuckers.” He glanced at the Freeblood in the net. “Have you seen any children in the area?”

      The leader looked at his comrades. They shook their heads.

      “We ain’t seen no kids outside our compound,” he said, his eyes narrow with suspicion. “Or any bloodsuckers except this one.” He kicked at the body curled up on the ground, and Garret fought the instinct to stop him. “Your son, you said? Where you from?”

      Garret estimated that he had no more than a few minutes before the sun was high enough to kill the Nightsider woman. He didn’t have time for conversation.

      “South,” he said. “I’ve traveled a long way.”

      “Looks like it,” one of the younger men said. His eyes were small and cruel. “If bloodsuckers took your kid, he’s probably dead.”

      “Shut up, Dean,” the grizzled man said. “How’d it happen?”

      “We were out hunting,” Garret said, staying as vague as possible. “Maybe this female knows something. Will you let me question her before you kill her?”

      There were murmurs of protest, but the leader silenced them with a wave of his hand.

      “Get her out of the sun,” he ordered his men. He met Garret’s eyes. “You got five minutes. Here.” He tossed a shock stick to Garret, who snatched it out of the air. “Use this if she don’t cooperate.”

      Garret edged closer to the leader as the other men dragged the net into the scant shade of a nearly leafless bush. “She probably won’t respond to more pain,” he said. “Let me tell her that you’ll give her a quick death if she cooperates.”

      “Why should she believe you?”

      “I was the interrogator in my compound,” Garret said. “Even with them, persuasion can be effective.”

      “Why should I give her a quick death?”

      “I didn’t say you had to keep my promise.”

      The grizzled man bared his teeth in a grin. “Five minutes, like I said.”

      “Thanks.” Garret turned toward the net, but the leader grabbed his arm with a callous hand.

      “You got guts to travel out here by yourself,” he said, “and you look like a good fighter. You married?”

      The grief was almost as fresh now as it had been four years ago. “No,” he said.

      “Then you might be welcome to join us if you decide not to go back south again.”

      “After I find my son, I may take you up on your offer.”

      “My name’s Claude Delacroix. Find the old town of Melford and wait by the bridge over the creek. Someone’ll find you and bring you to the compound.”

      “I’ll keep that in mind.” Garret pulled free, firmly but politely. “If you can keep your men away, I’d appreciate it.”

      “Will do.” Delacroix gestured to his crew, cast Garret another assessing look and followed them.

      Well aware that the militiamen were watching every move he made, Garret crouched by the net. The Opir woman’s pale skin was striped everywhere with narrow lacerations, her jacket and pants were little more than scraps of fabric held together by a few threads, and the hand tucked half under her chest was blistered and red. Her hair, a rich shade of ivory, was just long enough to cover her face.

      No matter what she was or what she might have done, Garret thought, she didn’t deserve this.

      “Listen to me,” he said, leaning as close to the net as he dared. “I can help you get out of here, but you’ll have to do exactly as I say.”

      Slowly she lifted her head. Her eyes were dark amethyst, unexpectedly and extraordinarily beautiful. Her body was slender, her face delicate and fine-boned, but there was nothing weak in either. The defiance in her eyes told him that anyone who made the mistake of thinking her fragile would quickly regret their assumption.

      “I heard what was said,” she said. “You are lying.”

      The misery in her voice cut straight through Garret like the razor wires that cut her body. СКАЧАТЬ