Keri Arthur - Circle of Desire

Mark grunted. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Do another background check on Katherine Tanner. I want to know all there is to know about her."

The phone line was silent for several seconds, then Mark said, "Don't tell me she's the pretty girl you're bedding, partner, because the captain will hit the roof."

"My sex life has nothing to do with Benton."

"It does when the woman you're involved with is a major player in a case you've been warned off."

"I started this case, and I have every intention of finishing it. And neither the department nor the captain is going to stop me."

"This could get you into very deep trouble, my friend."

"If we catch this killer, I don't really care."

Mark grunted. "So where the hell are the three of you now? The captain went off his tree when he discovered they'd left the hotel with no word."

"We're in Rogue River. The killer's apparently on the move, so I can't say how long we'll stay."

"You want me to inform the local sheriff you're there?"

No, he didn't, but if things went pear shaped, it was better to have their butts covered. "You'd better. I guess you'd better tell the captain, too."

"I will. And keep me posted. If you find anything — and I mean anything — you report in. I don't want to be going through the hassle of breaking in a new partner. I just got you trained properly."

"Yeah, right," Ethan said dryly. "Just do the checks for me, will you?"

"I'll see what I can do and call you back."

"Thanks."

He hung up and stopped at the end of the street. There was no sign of movement to the left or the right. It was as if she'd disappeared into thin air. But then, someone who could throw him across the road with sheer energy probably had another trick or two up her sleeve.

He sniffed the air, sorting through the odours of the night, and detected the faintest hint of sunshine to his right. He turned that way, but he had barely gone three steps when pain hit him so hard he stumbled.

Kat. In trouble.

He didn't question his certainty, just ran like hell in her direction.

Kat ducked the zombie's clenched fist and lashed out with a booted foot. Her blow hit the creature's knee with a satisfying crack, but if she'd done any damage it certainly didn't show. The creature swung around, fists a blur. She leaned back and felt the rush of stinking air past her chin.

She hit the zombie kinetically, thrusting it backwards. It tumbled over a roadside barrier and disappeared from sight.

Two more emerged from the night. She swore softly.

Three against one was decidedly unfair. Time for a strategic retreat, perhaps. She reached for her alternate shape, but in that instant, she felt the breeze of a fourth approach. She dove away, but something hit her arm, sliding through her jacket and sweater and deep into her flesh.

White fire burned through her veins and pain engulfed her. White ash. They had white ash. Holy hell, she was in trouble now. She gulped down air, fighting the blackness.

Ignoring the sweat beading her face, she pivoted, smacking the zombie hard in the nose. Bone crushed and bits of flesh and God knows what else flew, but he didn't seem to care. He grabbed her foot, twisting hard, and she screamed. Energy bubbled through her, and she flung it his way, twisting it around his neck and snapping it taut.

He was dead before he knew what hit him. She thrust his limp body into the other two. They went down like bowling pins but just as quickly righted themselves.

She turned and ran. She had no other choice. The white ash pinned her to the one form, and if she didn't get it out quickly it could very well kill her.

Their footsteps thudded behind her, drawing ever closer.

Zombies might be dead, but they weren't slow. Even without turning she could feel their fingers reaching for her.

She flung kinetic energy at the nearest tree, ripping free a heavy tree limb and tossing it behind her. Bodies thumped, and the stink of their presence disappeared. She stopped, spun, and hit another one kinetically, breaking its neck. Two down. But her whole body was shaking, and it wasn't just a reaction to the white ash in her arm. She was pushing her abilities to the limit. If she wasn't very careful, she'd have no energy left with which to defend herself.

But she couldn't run much farther, either. The movements were driving the white ash deeper into her flesh.

The zombies tossed the limb aside like so much rubbish.

She took a deep breath, raised kinetic energy from God knows where and hit them both, drawing a tight leash of energy around their necks. She stood her ground as they ran at her, waiting until they were close enough to smell before she snapped the leash tight. They dropped as one at her feet and didn't move.

She took another shuddering breath, then looked at the warm glow of lights below her. She couldn't make it that far by herself. Not with the white ash in her arm. But she couldn't stay here, either. It'd be just her luck the local sheriff would decide to drive by, and she wasn't up to explaining the bodies of the zombies right now. If the man who'd shared a moment of bliss with her didn't believe her story, why in hell would a complete stranger?

She continued on down the hill. The white ash burned deep, until it felt as if her whole body was being consumed. She wished she could wrench it free from her flesh, but she didn't dare even touch it in her weakened condition — not even kinetically. Blood dripped from her fingers, splashing in big fat drops near her feet. The shaking grew worse, until she was staggering like a drunkard all over the road. She couldn't go on. She had to sit.

She found a signpost and leaned back against it, closed her eyes and took a deep breath in the hope it would stop the spinning. It didn't seem to help.

But it didn't matter. Help was on the way. She reached into her pocket and dragged out the chocolate bar. Tearing it open with her teeth, she began to munch on it as she waited for Ethan to arrive.

Ethan slowed as he neared the crest of the road, his breath ragged gasps that tore at his lungs. The smell of death and blood tainted the night air, and for the briefest of moments, he was afraid to go on. Afraid of what he might find.

An odd reaction, given all he'd seen over his years as a cop.

He flexed his fingers and walked on slowly. The metallic tang of blood got sharper and mingled with the warm scent of summer he'd come to associate with Kat. He glanced to his right. There in the shadows, leaning against a signpost and surrounded by discarded pieces of chocolate wrapper, sat Kat.

Relief surged through him, but it just as quickly disappeared. Blood soaked her left hand and dripped steadily into a small puddle near her fingers. He knelt next to her, noting there was a stake of some sort sticking out of her arm. If it hadn't been for the smell of death, it was possible to think she'd had an accident, maybe fallen and stabbed herself with a tree branch. But that smell was an echo of the driver who'd rammed them, and he didn't think it was a coincidence.

"Kat?" He touched her face. She was trembling and, though her skin was cold, sweating profusely.

She looked at him. The pain in her green eyes seemed to echo right through him.

"You need to take out the stake."

"You need to get to a hospital." He reached for his phone, but she stopped him. The strength of her hold was surprising, given she looked like hell.

"Just take the stake out then wrap the arm and take me back to Gran. It's really not as bad as it looks."

"I've been a cop long enough to know a bad wound when I see one, and this — " "Is not what you think. Just take the goddamn stake out and stop arguing."

"If that stake has hit an artery — " "Look, will you just pretend I know what I'm talking about for five minutes and take the stake out?"