5 - Together To Join by Jackie Ivie Page B

and this time the earth not only rocked, it threw him onto his buttocks beside her, while the electrical charge nearly got him to tears with the pain of it. And through the fire-filled hum filling his ears he heard what sounded like a bit of laughter. Toward him.
    What the hell?
    Garrick was back in a crouch, his eyes alert and everything primed, but there wasn’t anything to hear except a soft sigh that she gave. The woman. The vampire woman. This wasn’t happening. She had some power he didn’t know enough about, and while his mind reeled with it, his body went through the time-instilled role. Hunt down a vampire. Kill it. He rotated the wooden stake he still held in his hand, gripped the ax handle in his left, and slammed to both knees beside her.
    “Are you a hunter?”
    She had such beautiful eyes! He didn’t need a bright light to tell. What glow came from the moonlit mist gave him too much. Garrick nodded.
    “Alex is dead, then?”
    He nodded again.
    “You killed him?”
    “Yeah. I killed your mate. And now I’m going to finish you.”
    “He wasn’t my mate.”
    She smiled, and then she grimaced, probably in pain. He told himself he didn’t care, and then took a huge breath before slamming the stake toward her heart. Her hand whipped out and caught his, stopping him at the moment of impact. Garrick thought he’d prepared for the earth tremor and resultant shock that seemed to accompany contact with her, but there was something about her eyes that not only fascinated…it actually pulled at him. Hauling him in. Dragging at everything. Promising and then delivering a vastness of light and warmth and wonder that actually started filling his veins, pumped there by his own heart.
    He yanked back, the earth heaved at him in a worse fashion, and this time he howled as it felt like a lightning bolt seared through him, spearing him to the ground with the strength of it. And that’s when he got mad.
    Anger choked him, sending the warmth and pain out of existence, and replacing it with full-out uncontrollable rage. He didn’t know what this bitch was, or how she did it, but he was killing her and ending it. Period.
    Garrick went to one knee this time and pulled his compound bow from over his shoulder, emotion pumping red to his eyeballs, tension to his frame, and sweat to his palms. He didn’t care. He swiped both hands down his thighs as he watched her, his eyes slit to withstand her gaze. She pulled into a sit, facing him, her injured shoulder lower than the other while an arrow shaft protruded crazily from it. She didn’t say anything. She just watched as he pulled another of his specially prepared arrows from his quill, wet the shaft with his tongue for the psychological effect – at this range he couldn’t miss - and placed it with perfect efficiency. With his power, the projectile was going to go right through her chest, taking her evil dead heart with it. She was going to end up a pile of dust and bones, and he was going to get his uniform patch. And that was that.
    “You’re not going to be able to kill me, Garrick.”
    The bow trembled. “How do you know my name?” he hissed.
    “Everyone knows. I’d say you’re a legend, but I don’t want you to get an even bigger head. It looks like I’ve got enough to deal with already.”
    “What?”
    The string slackened just slightly. He caught it and steadied it. He was four inches from her heart. Four. All he had to do was release the shaft. Just one move. Release his thumb from his index and middle finger. One small move…
    “You should just stop. And help me get this arrow out.”
    “Why should I?” He used his harshest military voice. It was harsh and guttural. And carried legions of threat.
    “Because it hurts. And I’m losing blood. And you’re just going to have to replenish it.”
    “Right. Say good-bye, lady.” He pulled the bow more, moving it to three inches from her heart.
    “Garrick—”
    She reached a hand toward him and touched