Children With Toys
Sessary had rejoined Hasan in time to make it back to the house before the town's curfew. Even though these people were far enough from the forests that it wasn't a big deal, they still enforced it. Judging from what Sess could see, they did a better job of it here than in Cyrne.
Orange sunlight beat down on the ice crystals around them. Shadows gathered at their feet, their slow and methodic footsteps being the only ones they'd seen for miles. Not that it was important at the moment. Instead, her mind was dancing through how she'd tell her little sparrow about her dead family.
Sessary was stopped by Celya as she'd started to leave. "You need my help if yer gonna do whadever id is yer doin, righd?" Celya whispered.
Raising an eyebrow, Sess inclined her head. "Yes."
"Than do me a favor. I'm from around here -- check on my family, will ya? Don' led 'em know yeh know me, but look. Please." Celya's pretty, pale eyes were wide, and Sess sighed her agreement before she was aware of what she was doing.
Besides, a little emotional black-mail couldn't hurt. Not really.
Only it wouldhurt. Celya's family had all been killed, according to the home owners that she'd devoured for lunch. They'd been dead for almost three months now. Not only that, but according to them, she'd been the second person to ask about them that day -- and, according to the bruised woman, the second person hadn't seemed at all friendly about it.
It had been a shame to eat her and bag the left-overs, but really, Sess thought, twirling the bag as she walked, it was only fair to repay Clarissa for her hospitality. And when it came to food, that woman had excellent taste.
But that still didn't solve the problem of the other people poking around Celya's dead family. She'd been told that someone had asked if anybody else had been by -- which had, at the time, made Sess too edgy to avoid killing the lady. Even though Celya hadn't been by, Sess had, and she didn't exactly want to be tattled on.
If Sess had been thinking, she would've asked the woman to spy for her -- if she'd been thinking, and the woman hadn't been a complete dolt. Insulting and poking house guests wasn't smart, especially when they'd been coped up for as long as Sess had.
The house was in sight now, the only building on the long and winding lane. Which was why Sess had become aware of the conspicuous, maroon truck parked across the road. She peered at Hasan out of the corner of her eye, watching him examine the vehicle with all the obvious clues of a child looking at a new and possibly dangerous toy. Subtle, he was not.
"Fuck," Hasan snarled suddenly. Risking Sess's wrath, he grabbed her arm and lunged them both into near-by perimeter bushes.
"What are you--"
He shushed her. "Something's wrong," he purred.
His lips were stomach-churningly close to her ears, and the thorns in the winter-blooming bushes tore into Sess's face. "It better be."
Choking down a response, Hasan crouched lower when they heard doors slamming shut and feet crunching through the crisp snow. "They used to work with Taveo," he finished. Bruising tightness dragged Sess down with him. Her long, black hair caught in the thorns, ripping at her skull.
"Taveo? Who in the seven hells is that?" The bag had caught on some thorns, and as she tried to shake it free, snow clumped down on them. Hasan growled something indecipherable.
Footsteps slowed to a stop, and Sess saw thick boots pausing only inches away. Neither of them spoke, and Sess prepared herself to dart out of the thick vegetation at a moment's notice. But no assault came.
When the two strangers started up the lane, she heard the distinct clicks of cocking guns. "Somebody who wants us dead."
Three knocks echoed across the hushed terrain. Hasan's grip on her arm disappeared, and he launched himself at the two killers standing by the front door.