Susan Krinard - Night Quest

“I know why you saved my life and shared your blood, or at least why you claim you did. What I do not understand is why you are so willing to reveal weakness.”

Garret wondered if she was trying to make him angry. She didn’t know him well enough to realize that he’d been through far too much to let pride influence his actions.

“I’ve already put my life in your hands many times over,” he said. “If I didn’t trust you—”

“No,” she interrupted. “I have always heard that free human males believe themselves to be stronger than females in every way, and will do anything to avoid revealing any physical or mental impairment before one of the opposite sex.”

Garret opened one eye a crack. “How do you know?”

“It is common knowledge.”

“The same way it’s common knowledge among humans that all Nightsiders are vicious killers?” He laughed shortly. “Not all human males feel the need to prove that they’re invulnerable.”

Artemis reached for her own small pack and unhooked her canteen. “It would be foolish to attempt it with a female Opir.”

“I’d like to think I’m not a fool,” Garret said.

“Would you have begged for my help, if I had been unwilling to give it?”

“Would that have made you feel better?”

“It would only have proven how much you wish to find your son.”

“Then you have no more interest in having power over me than I do in having it over you. Which makes you exactly what I judged you to be.”

“I still do not accept your ‘judgment.’”

Garret rolled his head to observe the bears, who had apparently determined that the human and Nightsider were no threat and resumed their search for food. “Why didn’t you go after them when you needed blood?” he asked. “It wasn’t fear that stopped you, was it?”

“I was not afraid,” she said, indignation in her voice.

“But something about them made you hesitate.” He straightened, wishing he could sleep but determined to keep Artemis engaged. “They are a family.”

She shrugged, though he could see that he had struck true. “Many creatures belong to what you call ‘families,’” she said. “I cannot spare all of them.”

“Do you know how long the female black bear protects her cubs?”

“I am not ignorant about the behavior of the creatures that live in the wild.”

“One and a half years,” Garret said. “These cubs are less than a year old. They’ll go into torpor with her pretty soon, and then they’ll be with her through the spring. No one can fault a bear’s skill at parenting.” He met Artemis’s gaze. “When were you converted?”

“What has that to do with—”

“Did you have children?”

Her body stiffened. “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember, or have you chosen to forget?”

“Even humans leave the past behind,” she said.

“We try,” he said, thinking of Roxana. His throat felt thick and full. “Do you remember what love is?”

“I...”

Garret unfastened his coat’s padded chest pocket, withdrawing the battered photograph in its transparent envelope.

“This is Timon,” he said. He rose and reached out to hand her the picture, and she accepted it with obvious reluctance. It had been taken before Roxana’s death; Timon was smiling, a ball in his hands, and his best friend and cousin, Alessa, at his side. With his red hair and violet-gray eyes, Timon looked human.

There was softness in Artemis’s face as she gazed at the picture, a softness that Garret had glimpsed only once or twice when she was at her most unguarded. Now she touched the picture with the tip of her finger, her lips curving in something like a smile.

“This picture was taken in a time of peace,” she said. “Who is the other child?”

“Her name is Alessa. She’s the daughter of my sister Alexia and her husband, Damon.” He tucked the photo back into his pocket. “Alexia is half Opir. A dhampir.”

Artemis stared at him. “Your father was a—”

“We had different fathers. I assure you, I’m fully human.”

“But your sister—”

“Was born in the Enclave of San Francisco, after our mother found refuge there. She married a human in the Enclave, and I was the result.”

Wrapping her arms around her chest, Artemis looked away. “I know...” she began. “I know it is an ugly thing, what our males did to your females during the War.”

“It wasn’t my intention to bring up the time before the Armistice,” Garret said, regretting his slip.

“But surely Alexia was an agent for the Enclave, like all those of mixed blood.”

“She left that life long ago. All I want for Timon is the freedom to live as he chooses, when he’s old enough to make that decision. I’d hoped this would help you to understand.”

“I always understood,” she said in a near whisper.

“Then help me track the rogues who stole my son, and then return to your life. I won’t trouble you again.”

Her mouth tightened. “You will not expect me to fight for him?”

“I won’t ask what you can’t give.”

They both fell into an uncomfortable silence, and Garret knew that it didn’t matter whether or not they talked about what had happened between them. It was there, hanging in the air, haunting them, mocking them. An odd sensation seemed to tickle the surface of his brain, and all at once he was reliving the endless moments of lust and desire, hopelessly entangled with Artemis’s need for blood and the memories of saving each other’s lives.

“Artemis,” he said, desperately resisting the urge to touch her, “I swear on Timon’s life that what happened today won’t be repeated.”

It was clear that she understood him. She felt for the tree trunk at her back, fingers digging into the rough bark. Her breath came in short, sharp bursts.

“No,” she said. “It will not.”

They both looked away at the same time, and Garret released his breath. She said that now, and she must truly believe it.

But the connection between them couldn’t simply be explained by the sharing of blood. He had wanted her in a way he hadn’t wanted any woman since Roxana, and she’d wanted him. The blood was only the catalyst.

His mind refused to speculate further.

“I think we should go,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “If we walk slowly for a while, I’ll be back to normal in a few hours.”

“Surely you are not ready,” she said. “It is nearly dark.”

“As long as I stay close enough behind you, we can travel at night. It’ll be harder for you by day, and we need to keep moving as long as we can.” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “You can hunt along the way, and I’ll do whatever I can to make things easier for you by keeping my distance.”

Easier for both of us, he thought. But Artemis had already turned her back on him and was self-consciously examining her arrows, leaving him to wonder if they could both hold to their promises.

* * *

They started north in silence, setting out along a woodland trail commonly used by both men and Opiri passing through the region once known as the Willamette Valley. Artemis took the lead, casting her senses wide for any trace of Freebloods. The rain had obliterated most animal tracks in the area, and she knew it would perform the same service for any two-legged creatures.

However, she didn’t have to rely only on sight. The scents of the wet forest were almost overwhelming, and she could track the movements of every animal—reptile, bird and mammal—that passed anywhere near them. Ironically, now that she no longer needed to hunt, she could hear tiny feet pattering over the pungent earth, and through the weeds and fallen pine needles, the rustle of wings in the undergrowth and deep among the branches.