Heart Of A Hunter. Sylvie Kurtz

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СКАЧАТЬ short separation was to strengthen their future. “For once in your life grow a backbone, Olivia.”

      She swiped at her eyes with the back of one gloved hand. She hadn’t known it would be this hard to walk away from him. That she would miss him so much in so little time. That the emptiness in her would feel as dirty and as desperate as the fugitives Sebastian chased.

      “You’re a fool, Olivia,” she told the haggard reflection haunting her on the windshield. She had a great home. She had work she loved and didn’t have to worry about making money from it to survive. She had a man who loved her and supported her. Security. “You have everything a woman could want.”

      But all of these chains of overprotection were sucking the juice from her creativity. She hadn’t painted in a month. Hadn’t felt the drive or the pleasure. Her next memory trunk still sat in her studio with only its priming coat on.

      And the last thing she wanted was to resent the only man she’d ever loved because she’d lost herself inside his strength. This quarter apart would give them both the needed distance to view their relationship more clearly.

      As she followed a curve, the slope of the mountain angled less sharply than before. The turn for the main road was only half a mile away. She eased her grip on the steering wheel and blew a small puff of relief.

      A deer jumped onto the road. Olivia gasped, jerked the wheel to the left and stomped on the brakes to avoid the animal. Mistake. The slush on the road became as slippery as oil. Her wheels churned. The car slid sideways. She lifted her foot off the brake, spun the wheel in the opposite direction and fishtailed.

      Smoke billowed up from the dashboard. The acrid smell made her choke. The black cloud blinded her. She tried to straighten, but the back end of the sedan kept going, then dipped over the edge of the road. There the car paused.

      Holding her breath, Olivia leaned forward as if her weight could counterbalance the downward pull and tried not to cough on the toxic smoke. The engine whined. The headlights swirled in the mix of black haze and white fog. The undercarriage creaked beneath her as the car sought its fulcrum.

      Please, don’t let me die. I promise I’ll go back. I promise I’ll try harder. I won’t complain. I promise—

      Gravity sucked the car down. Olivia screamed as she scratched at the dashboard as if she could escape her fate through the windshield. The car careened down the rocky slope, gathering speed. Boulders and trees didn’t slow the metal skeleton. It simply bounced from the obstacles in pinball madness, up and over, side to side, tossing her painfully around the safety harness. Wrenching metal screeched. The air bag deployed, burning her face and suffocating her for a desperate moment. As a branch thrust through the windshield on the passenger’s side, glass cracked and the blanket of crazed glass wrapped around the sprung mushroom of air bag.

      Then the right rear quarter panel smashed into a granite monolith, grinding the car to a sudden halt, canting it sideways, and sending her head crashing through the side window. She saw stars and a bright pinprick of light. A warm rush flowed over her brain, turning everything blood red, then black.

      Panting, she swiped at her eyes. If she couldn’t see, how could she work? How could she paint? How would she fill the endless emptiness of Sebastian’s absences?

      The car slipped again. A foot. Two. She stilled and bit back the scream clawing at her throat. Please…

      The car came to rest with the small bump of a landing elevator, bobbing her head. That gentle slap of her temple against the metal frame was the final insult.

      Like a light winking out, she fell backwards into the inky chasm fracturing her conscious mind. I don’t want to die! I don’t want to be alone. Panic made her fight the pull of darkness. Her arms reached forward. Her mouth opened for one last desperate cry, “Sebastian!”

      Chapter Two

      The red lights of the rescue squad turned the fog a bloody red. The slam of the closing ambulance doors cracked like a shotgun and thundered over the mountain. As the ambulance sped away, Olivia’s blood-streaked face colored Sebastian’s vision. Her closed eyes, her pale skin, the rip in her scalp, were a punch to the gut. The fading whine of the siren was a cry that swept him back too many years and pooled old dread into his boots like cement.

      He swallowed hard and shook his head. Don’t go there. It’s not going to get you anything. You have a job to do. Do it.

      Olivia was in good hands. Once at the hospital, he couldn’t see her right away anyway. Doctors would need to examine her and patch her up. What good would he do her pacing the hall? Here he could get a jump on Kershaw. He flexed his fists. She would be okay. But not Kershaw. Kershaw would pay. Sebastian cranked his gaze away from the disappearing red lights in the fog to the scars in the slush made by Olivia’s tires.

      Resolutely, he pushed Olivia from his focus. She crept back in on the next breath. He crouched by the side of the road. Read the facts, damn it. Pukes always leave a trace. If you let him get away, Olivia’s the one who’ll pay.

      He should be at the hospital with her. But in these weather conditions evidence would disappear fast. His gaze followed the run of the tire marks over the edge, and with each breath he got himself into Kershaw’s head. Kershaw had vowed revenge. Kershaw had escaped from a maximum-security facility. Olivia was hurt. Too much of a coincidence and he’d never liked coincidence.

      Concentrate. Feel what he feels. Fear what he fears. Trust what he trusts.

      Sebastian turned off the emotional switch and went into hunter mode. Catch the scum, then get back to Olivia.

      That was the plan.

      Always.

      With effort, he rose and strode toward Victor Denley, Wintergreen’s chief of police. Both the mustache, waxed Western-villain style, and the weapon, cocked at an odd angle from the chief’s belt, seemed out of place on the six-foot, barrel-shaped man. He looked more like a caricature of a cop than a figure of authority. But the accident had taken place in his jurisdiction and this was his scene. The Service prided itself on interagency cooperation.

      “How soon can you get the car out?” Sebastian asked.

      Denley snorted and shook his head. “I’m not sending anyone down there till daylight.”

      Sebastian bit back his temper. He needed answers now. “When you do, I want it gone over with a fine tooth comb. Anything and everything that might be out of place, I want to know.”

      “I don’t have that kind of manpower or budget. You know that, Falconer.”

      “Tow the car to Cyril’s and send me the bill.” Sutton was going to bust an artery over his next expense report, but screw him. He’d given his all for the Service. His job was never supposed to touch Olivia. They owed her.

      He hiked down the tailgate of his SUV and took a flashlight from his gear bag. “I forwarded a bulletin to your desk. I want your men—” All four point five of them. Cripes! This was a mess. “—aware of Kershaw.”

      “How serious is this guy?”

      “He’s armed and dangerous.” Sebastian clicked on a utility belt. “And he wants payback.”

      “Wish you hadn’t brought that kind of trouble to my neck of the woods.”

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