to him.
One problem at a time.
That was the story of her life.
Reaching the edge of the road, she was forced to halt as the Brotherhood stumbled through the woods behind her. Christ. They’d already lost her trail.
She stomped her feet, reaching out to grasp a slender tree and give it a shake.
“This way,” a male voice at last called out. “I hear her near the road.”
There was a sharp whistle as the leader took control of his floundering twits.
“Call Roy and tell him that the clairvoyant’s headed back to the village,” he commanded. “He can cut her off at the gate.”
Assured that the men were headed in the right direction, Myst hurriedly climbed the nearest tree, balancing on a slender branch as the men rushed past her.
Watching their hasty dash down the road, she waited until they were out of sight. Even then, she counted to a hundred before she lightly dropped to the ground. Once assured that no one had the brains to leave one of the men to keep guard, she hurriedly doubled back.
This time there was no hesitation as she reached the pathway that led down the steep bank. Plunging over the edge, she struggled to keep herself from tumbling headfirst into the river. The loose ground crumbled beneath her feet, the afternoon breeze tangling the fabric of her dress between her legs.
She managed to reach the bridge, however, unscathed, and jogging across slick stones, she headed straight for the orchard.
Like Bas, she ignored the gate, instead jumping over the low fence and melting into the shadows as she moved through the straight rows of trees. There was the potent scent of apples and more distantly the stench of manure, but it was the faint hint of blood in the air that she focused on.
Damn. She darted toward the far corner of the orchard, her heart lodged in her throat as she caught sight of the male body lying on the ground.
Bas.
Her steps slowed as she reached him and dropped to her knees beside his motionless form. He’d fallen face-first onto the narrow path between trees, three gunshot wounds oozing blood from the center of his back.
Oh God. How much damage had the bullets done?
Not even a high-blood could survive three bullets through the heart.
With a trembling hand she reached out to touch his too-pale face, a sob of relief wrenched from her throat as her fingers contacted the searing heat of his skin. A Sentinel burned even hotter when he was healing.
Surely that meant he was going to survive?
Settling back on her heels, she glanced around the isolated farm.
Now that she was assured Bas was still alive, she needed to find somewhere for them to hide. The Brotherhood might not be the smartest tools in the shed, but even they would eventually realize she wasn’t hiding in the village. Once that happened she didn’t doubt they would come looking for Bas.
Unfortunately there weren’t a lot of options for hiding places. In fact, her choices were limited to returning to the thick cover of the woods, or the barn.
In the end, her decision was obvious.
It had to be the barn since it was far closer.
It was going to be difficult enough to transport Bas a few hundred feet without causing him more damage. She’d never make it back across the bridge.
Rising to her feet, she moved to peer over the fence, making sure there were no prying eyes. Not only did she have to look out for the Brotherhood, but she had to make sure she didn’t attract the attention of the farmer or his family.
At last convinced they weren’t going to be spotted, she hurried back to Bas and, crouching down, she gently slid her arms beneath him, hooking them around his shoulders so she could haul his upper body off the ground. She wasn’t strong enough to actually carry him, but she tried to lift as much of him as possible as she slowly dragged him toward the side gate.
Terrified she might accidentally cause even more damage, Myst was careful not to jerk him as she moved out of the orchard one painful inch at a time. Sweat trickled down her back and her muscles were screaming in protest when she finally reached the barn.
Bas was a slender male, but he was pure muscle. Not to mention the fact that Sentinels had a heavier body mass than humans. It all combined to make him feel as if he weighed a ton.
No, not a ton. It