Assassin Treasure (Assassins Book 4) (4 page)

* * * *

Damien stopped at the same fork only moments behind her, unsure which trail she would have ventured down. He breathed deeply, listening for any sound, knowing instinctively she was hiding; he was way too fast for her to keep running. He couldn’t believe his luck. While shining the headlights of his car onto her presumed hiding place, he chanced a glance out into and over the water. If they hadn’t been on a point, he never would’ve seen the fleeting motion across the lake between a bare spot the light caught as she ran down the road. Damien had been amazed. Damn it, the girl was quick. What was she, part rabbit?

“Candy, I know you’re around here somewhere, I know you can hear me,” Damien said smoothly, already his breathing calmed after his mad dash, though he could feel his heart pounding.

Hands on hips, he scanned the area, but it was too dark to make out much of his surroundings.
Shit, I hate this.
He hated tracking. He hated camping. Most of all Damien hated the woods. What a damned irritating place to have to be. Absently, he swatted a mosquito. Grumbling, Damien went and sat down on a large moss and leaf covered rock. He was unaware Candy almost expired in terror as his huge frame settled only inches in front of her.

“Whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to face me sooner or later. I’m hoping that it’s sooner. If not, this entire area will be teeming with assassins before another night falls. Some of them aren’t very nice, Candy. They won’t like being dragged from their quiet, cozy homes, to wander around bug-ville. I know I’m not particularly happy about it,” Damien said with an air of casualness.

He scratched absently at his chest. Long moments passed, his ears strained to catch the slightest noise. Damien heard nothing except the annoying buzzing of insects. A wolf howled in the distance, then more silence. Distracted, he could make out the beginning of dawn approaching, the awakening of a new day was close at hand. He smacked at a bug and exhaled noisily.

“Come on, Candy, for fuck sakes be reasonable,” Damien said, annoyed, as he smacked at another bug, then another and another. He swiped his hand over his face and neck, ridding them of the little invasive creatures. Both hands scratched roughly through his hair that suddenly felt alive. He snorted loudly as something small invaded his nose, and something attempted to crawl into his left ear.

Christ almighty, these bloody little shits are everywhere.

“Damn it,” he suddenly shouted and sprang to his feet, waving his arms about like a pinwheel.

* * * *

Candy scarcely dared to breathe, though her lungs begged for air. Her legs began to cramp and at his mention of bugs; she felt one land on her cheek. To her dismay she was noting the ever slowly rising of the sun in the distance. From where he sat, if he turned and looked down, he would be able to just make out her huddled form. She didn’t allow herself to cry. If the tears slipped to the leaf-covered ground, he might be able to detect the sound. Her hopes of survival were all but shattered. Then Damien began moving erratically, and Candy’s hopes soared.

Damien was moving in tight circles, flailing wildly as though under attack. “
Fuck
. I’ve been turned into dinner.
Shit!”

Candy couldn’t help but feel a great deal of satisfaction at his distress. She’d become so accustomed to the tiny menaces, she almost never noticed them. This gave her ample opportunity to slip away, avoiding his detection, while he was distracted. She ventured down the opposite fork in the trail. Her movement was slow, low to the ground, quiet and cautious, keeping him and his bumbling activity within sight. When feeling secure she would be undetected by him, she picked up her furious pace and bolted down a path that appeared almost nonexistent. For now, thankfully, she was safe.

Candy drank in a much needed gulp of cool, clear water from the lake she’d arrived at moments earlier. She loved this particular lake on crown land. Not one cottage could be seen dotting the majestic distance. Its beauty remained unmarred by civilization. Sparkles danced across the sleepy, mist covered water as the sun rose through a gentle haze. The sleek head of a beaver broke the surface for a mere second. A tiny fish jumped, creating a small ripple that disappeared inconspicuously. A loon called, and cupping her hands, fingers laced, Candy answered in a perfect imitation, encouraging the loon to call again. The view was breathtaking, tranquil. Under different circumstances, she imagined this is what paradise might look like.

Sitting on a somewhat smooth, large, multicolored rock that traveled downward, dipping many feet into the lake below the surface, she pondered her frightening dilemma. If she were to try for help from other people, other civilians in the area, the police would have to be called. She’d run from a crime scene, a murdered victim; they would naturally assume she was guilty. But they didn’t understand the Darren family like she did, or felt she did, under the extenuating circumstances. Perhaps there had been something else just as heinous Tyler had done to provoke the wrath of an assassin. For some odd, nagging reason, she was feeling it wasn’t rape. The thought made her shudder. She remembered the look on Tyler’s face. Was he going to kill her? Had he murdered before?

Others in the office would talk, probably had. They would explain Candy was the last person to see Tyler alive, if only to save them from the Darrens’ wrath. Her presumed whereabouts would be hunted immediately, with a vengeance. Once found, they’d get to her no matter where she was. Tyler’s father would demand the circumstances surrounding his son’s death. Whether or not Tyler intended to assault her, she would be blamed for him being there that night. She would be blamed for not allowing him whatever he wished, regardless of what it entailed. Tyler’s father would declare angrily her virtue wasn’t nearly as important as his son’s life. In his eyes, his sons could do no wrong; rape or murder included, they were above the law, just as he assumed himself to be.

Tyler’s twin brother, Taylor, would pursue her mercilessly. Though he seemed more interested in travel for business purposes, and wasn’t nearly as vicious or cruel as Tyler, he was almost as bad as his brother had been with women. He’d blame Candy. He would take great delight in finishing what his brother started. Her fist ground angrily against moist eyes, though there were no tears. She was doomed to run and be hunted for the rest of her life. The Darren family would track her down until she cracked from the pressure.

Candy gave her head a good shake, jarring her thoughts. She rose on unsteady feet as her exhaustion began to take its toll. This deliberating was getting her nowhere, except more frustrated and frightened. She had better things to do than languish around feeling sorry for herself. Candy was taught independence from a young age. She wasn’t about to flop to the ground and await her fate. Moving away from the lake at a steady pace despite her weariness, she willed her ass into gear. There were the remains of a tiny, ramshackle cabin not far from where she was. The cabin was open and empty, missing a wall or two, but back away from the overgrown road. Under it was a small undetectable stone hideaway. She discovered it by accident when she was a child out exploring. With luck, she’d be able to curl up and sleep for a few hours.

* * * *

Damien studied the water’s edge with a critical eye. He detected the imprint of a small shoe that had disturbed the moss on the large rock. The girl stopped here for water. Damien scratched absently at his back, then his belly. Irritably, he noted his gloves were missing, and they were his favorite pair. With confused dismay, he noted the appearance of a rash forming on his hands and under his shirt. Feeling parched, he scooped up a large mouthful of water into cupped hands, and then dropped it in disgust as he brought a wriggling minnow close to his lips.

Damn the girl.

He should be on a plane right now enjoying a steak and a much needed icy-cold bottle of beer. Instead, he was in desperate need of calamine lotion and a fly swatter. The mosquitoes should be grateful he couldn’t shoot them, or he would’ve blown the bastards away. Damien rose, once again grumbling. He was hungry and thirsty and tired; he itched everywhere. He never slept well before a hit, and he had been on the move for over thirty hours; he was feeling his exhaustion. No doubt so was the girl. She could be curled up anywhere.

He moved off at a steady pace, thinking. If he were a frightened female what would he do? She was alone and terrified. She was small compared to him, though most women were. He stood an impressive six foot three and a half and weighed well over two thirty; he was well muscled. Candy was likely curled up in a small ball huddled underneath somewhere or something, in a place he couldn’t fit. Damien groaned, that put him right back to square one; she could be anywhere.

Damn it to hell anyway.

Damien glanced at his watch and swore aloud. He should’ve checked in by now. No doubt his father was organizing the troops. He shrugged, knowing it couldn’t be helped. He had to get the girl or risk exposure. For a moment, he grew thoughtful. He’d never taken an innocent’s life and had no intention of doing so now. Once he got a hold of her, his family would make the girl disappear, whether she wanted to or not. He hoped she would go willingly. If not, she would be placed into a permanent situation that would keep her silenced, but alive. Though she might wish she weren’t. Damien grimaced at the thought. She was very pretty and young. His father would have no trouble acquiring a place for her that would prove eager to teach her silence and submission.

A small abandoned cabin came into view off from the side of the small dirt path he’d been following and Damien stopped. He could see the trail had recently been walked over. He moved stealthily, wondering if she decided to find shelter for a while to try and sleep. Damien struggled with the overgrown prickly vines that clutched at his clothing, but forged ahead while they pulled at him. With relief, he reached the tiny cabin. His large black cowboy boots clunked onto the flimsy wooden floor. He stopped, feeling embarrassed; so much for the element of surprise. He scanned the open room, and determined she wasn’t there. The space was completely open and barren, detection would be unavoidable. He noted the small, wooden, rickety ladder, centered in the tiny room leading to the small loft. With grim determination, Damien climbed.

“Candy, honey?” he called, keeping his tone light. Still attempting to think like a woman, he determined a gentler voice would be more approachable and possibly less frightening.

He put his hand onto the top of the wooden floor and pulled himself up. His other hand settled off the last rung onto the loft floor as well, in an attempt to steady himself. Damien groaned in disgust as his fingers pressed down hard, squishing into a pile of fresh smelly feces. The substance oozed between and over his fingers.

“
Shit,”
he bellowed.

The man had returned in full force.

Damien shook out his hand with loathing and after a brief scan of the loft, he began his descent. Halfway down, a rotted wooden rung cracked, breaking. Wide-eyed, arms flailing helplessly, Damien tumbled heavily to the floor, landing with a loud bang. He lay still for a moment, groaning.

“
Damn you
, Candy. I’m getting really fucking pissed now,” Damien howled in outrage from his prone position.

Gingerly he rolled over and dragged himself to his feet. His head slumped at the mess his clothing had become; he smelled like shit, and he was well beyond irritable. Grouching aloud with his annoyance, he vowed he was going to get this girl.

* * * *

Candy heard the loud thud as Damien fell overhead and she chuckled, her sound muffled behind her hand. That ladder had been rotted for years; only a moron would venture up there. Besides, you couldn’t walk through all the raccoon crap. She heard Damien stomping from the cabin. Candy had taken great pains to crawl through the underbrush to get to the small stonewalled hideaway under the cabin. She settled comfortably in the dark, cool area, on a piece of canvas she’d dragged in years ago. After shaking it out, she curled on top of it and fell asleep immediately in her exhausted state. She woke when she heard Damien’s boots hit the floor above her head.

“Candy, I’m warning you,” Damien thundered from above.

She lay back down, too tired to care about his threats. Did he honestly think she was going to come out of hiding simply because he commanded it? He really was a moron. A moron with a gun.

Great.

* * * *

Damien looked at his watch. It was getting late. He started a small fire near the cabin and settled back against a log. He threw pine needles onto the fire that crackled and smoked, giving him some meager protection from the bugs. The girl was close and the thought irked him. He searched the surrounding area for hours, unable to detect her hiding place. The sweat from his harried hunt was drying in the chill evening air, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He was pissed. The girl knew she was well hidden and was, no doubt, sleeping at this very moment, while he sat grouchily being eaten alive by the frisky natives. She would then be on the move again as darkness fell.

At a small sound in the woods, Damien was on his feet with his weapon drawn and poised instantly. His relief soared when a man came toward him scowling. He re-holstered his weapon.

“I have more important things to do than track your sorry ass,” the man declared.

“It’s about time you showed up. I’m being eaten alive. What the hell took you so long?” Damien demanded.

Dirk, Damien’s brother, stood before him. Like Damien, his brother was an impressive figure. Both were the same height and weight, both possessed a great deal of muscle mass with wide, expansive chests. Yet, Dirk was twelve years older than Damien’s twenty-seven years. At thirty-nine, Dirk’s features were chiseled and defined and Damien knew when both entered a room many a woman’s heart fluttered at the sight of them. He and his brother possessed the same rugged good looks. Both had the same thick, short blond hair and deep cornflower blue eyes. Dirk’s gaze flashed a great deal of anger.