Immortal Coil (11 page)

You should be careful with that.

Her gaze fell to the inside cover.
A Gutenberg Bible?
She gingerly eased the book back into place.
How did you manage to get your hands on that?

She felt him hesitate.
It’s kind of a long story.

“Like the matching sword and shield over there?”

Use your thoughts. Someone could be listening.

She glanced about. The room was empty. The back wall had a dark hall and window-sized cut-out opening into an eat-in kitchen.

“Who—”
Who could be listening?
She sighed.
I think we’re at that point where I need a little more information. Duel to the death?
Magic?
Antiquated monarchy?

We’re old. My... people have been in this spirit state for a long time and it’s difficult to change the old ways.

So when you say old, you don’t just mean your race, you mean you?

Yes.
With that one word he suddenly sounded tired, as if the loss of who he’d once been weighed heavily on him.
You’ve already figured out that I took my last vessel during the Crusades.
The Fifth one to be precise.

How old are you?
She knew it shouldn’t surprise her, he was a talking spirit after all, but it was a lot to take in.

I lost count.

She had a feeling he hadn’t, that he knew exactly how old he was.

A knock on the door made her jump.

That’s probably Grey.

She opened the door. Grey pushed past her into the room, a bulging laundry bag slung over his shoulder. He dropped the bag at her feet and plopped down on the couch.

“You’re not very big. It was difficult to find armor.
And no.
I’m not going to ask
Capri
.”

Anaea
swallowed and resisted asking the obvious. She was about to fight a duel to the death. Why wouldn’t she have expected
armor.
Images of an ancient Roman gladiatorial brawl danced through her mind’s eye.

You’re not that far off.

This is so not civilized. Whatever happened to submitting a resume and making a better offer to get someone’s job?

Trust me, this is civilized,
Hunter said.

Compared to what?

Get the clothes.

Compared to what?
she
repeated more insistently.

But he didn’t answer. She grabbed the bag and headed down the hall in search of the bathroom.

It lay on the other side of the kitchen, and was enormous with a separate glassed-in shower and a four-person Jacuzzi bathtub. The entire ceiling glowed with a gentle white light. The illumination around the mirror over the vanity was twice as bright and it showed her sallow face.

She shrugged out of
Pearl
’s coat and let it drop to the floor, then kicked off her shoes. The marble floor was heated. She considered standing there until her toes warmed up, or perhaps lying down and letting the warmth seep into her body.

After the fight, perhaps a shower,
Hunter said.

Perhaps?
There are no ands, ifs, or buts about it. I’m filthy.

She opened the laundry bag and pulled out what Grey had brought. It really did remind her of gladiator armor. There were leather bands that strapped around her arms and shins and something with metal studs that attached around her chest and neck, protecting half her torso and right shoulder. At the bottom of the bag
were a pair
of black jeans and a small black T-shirt.

Whatever happened to Kevlar? It’s not the dark ages.

Kevlar stops bullets. It won’t necessarily stop swords and it certainly won’t stop magic.

There’s that word again.

Yep.

She stripped out of his oversized T-shirt and the tattered hospital pants and put on the jeans. They were tight and low slung.
So much for protection.

I’m good enough I won’t need it. The other stuff is also just a formality. Now hurry up so I can—
So
you can give me control.

The clean T-shirt didn’t cover as much as she liked, either. It stopped just below her ribs and exposed an alarming amount of flesh at her midriff. At least her ribs were covered. Last time she looked she could count them.
A sign, just like her hair, of her illness.

She sat on the edge of the tub.
All right.
How do we do this?

Just relax.

His presence pressed against her mind as it had before. She sucked in a slow breath, feeling him ease over her, like oil on water. The pressure increased. She thought about the place in her mind where he’d kept her when he was in control. Really, that would be a better place to be while he fought this duel. Just for a moment. Not long. He would give control of her body back to her.

Really?

Really.

And she knew that was the truth. He didn’t want her body. He wanted someone else’s. Actually he wanted his old body back.

Just relax.

I am relaxing.

Well, think about going to sleep.

She thought about going to sleep. Spikes of pain shot through her temples. She gasped. The pressure stopped.

She gasped again at the sudden release.

This isn’t working,
he said.

“No, really?”

In your head.

Sorry.

You need to relax.

I am relaxing.
She felt his disbelief.
Well, I’m trying.

Try some soothing breaths.
His voice was calm, but she could sense his rising panic. They were running out of time to make the switch. Any time now someone would come to call them to the arena.

“Hey, Hunter,” Grey said through the closed door.

Anaea
jumped.

“I know you got yourself a sweet little body now. But
Regis’s
page has arrived with the summons. You can play with yourself later.”

She felt Hunter grimace, but whether it was at Grey’s comments or the fact that they were out of time, she didn’t know.

Pick up the armor and tell Grey to help.

After that comment, I don’t know if I want him touching me.

Maybe not, but you’re not going to get into it on your own, or at least by the time required.

Fine.
She opened the door and held up one of the forearm protector pieces.

It’s called
a grieve
.

She resisted the urge to say something nasty and instead decided to focus on the problem at hand.
So, how is this fight going to go?

Hunter didn’t answer and she could tell he was thinking.
How to win a fight while stuck in a body with a person who didn’t know how to fight.

Grey strapped on the first
grieve
then the second. He helped her shrug into the weird shoulder and neck piece thing and tightened the straps around her chest.

So?

Well, we don’t have magic...

I noticed that.

That decreases our odds,
Hunter said.

I kind of figured that out on my own.

Grey brushed his hands down the front of his thighs and stepped back. “Man. I never thought of you as a gender hopper. This is just too weird.”

Anaea
shrugged. “Yeah, well. It’s weird for me, too.”

Don’t improvise,
Hunter said.

Sure. I’ll just become the unsociable silent Hunter.

He harrumphed and she got the sense she wasn’t far off the mark on his actual behavior. It was a little sad. She at least had a good excuse for cutting herself off from the few friends and family she had. He just chose a solitary life.

My job doesn’t allow attachments.

She didn’t really know what his job was so she couldn’t comment. In fact, she knew very little about this man... spirit... creature... whatever. And without a doubt he was holding things back. She could feel it. If she just had a few more pieces to the puzzle everything would make sense.

I doubt that,
Hunter said.

“Well, come on.” Grey motioned to the door.
“Can’t keep royalty waiting.”

Hunter snickered. Royalty didn’t mean much to him, but she couldn’t determine why. Loyalty, however, did. And he was loyal to Grey. She got the sense that Hunter had been friends with Grey for a long time.

A very long time.

The image of Grey pulling a heavy medieval helmet off his head and grinning back at her flashed through her mind’s eye. He wore classic, knight-in-shining-armor armor except it was covered in filth and blood and dents.

Hunter had said his people were old. It was still just so difficult to wrap her mind around it, though.

Grey grabbed a sword from a rack by the door and led her back down the hall to the circular stairwell. Instead of going up, they went down four flights to the very bottom. The illumination here was dim. Before her rose two towering arches, filled with blinding light, and beyond she could hear the rumble of many voices. She wasn’t as exhausted as she’d expected with all the physical activity she’d done over the last however many hours. But adrenaline still pounded through her with every rapid beat of her heart. And she didn’t feel like a gladiator any more, but a Christian being led to the lions.

Grey thumped her on the back.
“Happy hunting.”

She stumbled but caught her balance before falling.

“Sorry, forgot.
Half your usual size.”
He handed her a heavy sword, turned, and headed back up the stairs. She could only guess that ‘audience’ seating was accessed on an upper level.

So.
She hefted the weapon. What was it with these people and swords?

So.
Hunter almost sounded apologetic. Then images and emotions and thoughts flooded her mind. She was drowning. They rushed over her, filled her, pressed against the essence that was her and permeated through her. They moved so fast she couldn’t grasp onto any one thought and examine it. All she could tell was that they were violent, desperate,
primal
. Years upon years of struggle and death, edged with a strange satisfaction.

This was who Hunter really was. He was a hunter in the most basic of terms. No, that was what hundreds of years had made him. Deep down, at the very beginning, she sensed the spirit of a proud, majestic creature.
A leader in his own right, not one subservient to a Prince.

Sadness crept through her, and as abruptly as the experience began, it ended. He was not going to allow her to see his true soul, only the warrior he’d made himself into.

She fought a hysterical giggle, but it escaped. The whole situation was crazy. She knew—not in any specific kind of detail, but still—violence.
Hundreds of years of combat experience.

That wasn’t supposed to be amusing
,
Hunter said, his voice dry.

I think I know Kung Fu.
She couldn’t resist.

He groaned. Obviously he’d watched that movie as well. Too bad this wasn’t some Matrix-like dream.

You only know it mentally. Your muscles don’t know it at all.

What does that mean?

Fighting is more
reflex
, more muscle memory, than anything else. You train until you don’t have to think about it,
Hunter said.

So why fill my mind with—
You
know?

Because some knowledge is better than nothing.
The
overtones of what she was
about to face swept through her, and she couldn’t ignore the inevitable any more.

Great.
She stepped to the edge of the closest arch and peered out. It was too bright. She’d have to step into the light, blind, and hope there was honor among Hunter’s people.

Transferring his memories had been the only thing Hunter could think of to save
Anaea
. Sure, she was glib about death. She thought she was already dead, but that wouldn’t help him. Besides, she wasn’t dying any more.