Moon Sworn

so that the blow passed over my right shoulder, then punched upward, aiming for his jaw. But again, he saw it coming and swayed backward so that the blow hit air rather than flesh and left me momentarily unbalanced. His fist hit my upper stomach, the force of it pushing me backward as air exploded from my lungs.

He laughed, then raised his voice, half looking away as he said, “Hey, she’s over here!”

It was a stupid thing to do.

I kicked his knee as hard as I could. The impact made his leg bow unnaturally and bone shattered, the sound like a gunshot in the darkness. As he howled and started to go down, I clenched my fist and delivered an uppercut to his chin. He dropped to the ground and didn’t move.

For a minute, neither did I. Breathing hurt. I took shallower breaths but it didn’t seem to help. Nor did I have the time to worry about it.

Denny and his friends had been warned, and their shouts filled the night. I needed to grab Evin and make my escape.

I turned and ran for the front of the rusty tank. Evin was still lying where I’d seen him. His hands were tied behind his back, and the rope holding him was thick and strong. The metallic smell of blood rode the air, even though he didn’t look like he’d been beaten. One look at the ropes binding him explained why—his wrists were raw and bloody. He’d obviously been trying to work himself free.

I dropped down beside him and touched his face. He jumped and his eyes flew open.

“Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Rescuing your butt,” I said. “Are you injured?”

“They’ve wrapped silver wire around my neck. It’s burning.”

Which explained why he hadn’t shifted shape to escape the ropes. Still, if his injured wrists and silver burns were the worst of his injuries, then he was damn lucky.

I grabbed the other knife from my boot and sawed the ropes off his bloody wrists, but it took forever, and all the time my awareness of the men was growing. I couldn’t risk slicing the ropes off his feet. I should have done them first.

“I haven’t got time to undo your feet. We need to get out of here.” I stood up, grabbed his raw and bleeding hands, and hauled him upright. “Can you hop?”

“I’d fucking attempt to fly if it was the difference between getting the hell out and staying here.” His voice was grim, determined.

“Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

He leapfrogged forward. I kept one hand on his arm to steady him, but the going seemed painfully slow. My awareness of the other men continued to sharpen; they were closing in on us far too fast. If we didn’t get to the third truck soon, they’d be on us.

“We’re moving too slow,” I said.

“I’m jumping as fast as I fucking can,” he practically spat.

“It’s still not fast enough. Stop.”

He did. I twisted, grabbed his wrist, shoved his arm around my neck, then bent, dragging him over my shoulders and holding his thigh to keep him steady.

“Fuck” was all he said as I ran forward.

We made it to the car. I flung open the passenger door, dropped him onto the seat, shoved his legs inside then shut the door and ran around to the driver’s side.

Denny and his men were almost on us. I grabbed the keys out of my pocket, slammed the door closed, hit the lock button with my elbow, then leaned across and locked Evin’s door.

And jumped about a mile high as a rock hit the windshield and the glass became a spidery network of cracks.

But I could see the men through them. Could see their vicious expressions. If they got their hands on us now, it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

Not that it was actually going to be pleasant before.

“Fucking hell,” Evin said. “Get us out of here!”

“I’m trying.” I shoved the key in the ignition and fired the big engine up, then released the hand brake and threw the truck into reverse.

It rocketed backward. Another rock hit the windshield, this time punching through and landing with a thump on the seat between Evin and me. I twisted the wheel, pointing the truck’s nose in the general direction of the road, then changed gears and hit the gas pedal.

As the truck surged forward, something hit the bed behind us. My gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, and I saw one of Denny’s friends scrambling into the back. I hauled on the wheel and the big truck turned sharply to the left. The man behind us flew sideways, his shoulder smashing into the side of the truck and his body half flying out.

Yet somehow he managed to maintain his grip and didn’t fall all the way out.

Evin twisted around. “Turn the other way.”

I kept my foot planted and twisted the wheel in the opposite direction. Our passenger flew across the truck and tumbled out over the side. I glanced at the side mirror, saw him bounce several times in the sandy soil, then roll to a stop. He didn’t get up.

I kept accelerating. I couldn’t see Denny and his other friend, but I wasn’t about to risk slowing down until we were well out of the area.

For a long time, the only sound was the growl of the big engine as we arrowed through the night. I handed Evin the knife and he hacked away the rope binding his legs. He tried undoing the silver wound around his neck, but it was twisted on tight.

I didn’t say anything and, eventually, he cleared his throat and said, “I don’t suppose you could stop and take the silver away? My skin feels like it’s blistering.”

I didn’t look at him. Didn’t slow down.

“That depends.”

I could feel his gaze on me—a heat that held no anger, only the hint of confusion. Whatever else Evin might be, I didn’t think he was a particularly devious man.

“On what?”

I met his gaze then. Saw his gaze widen, so heaven only knows what he actually saw in my eyes.

“It depends,” I said softly, “on whether you tell me what the hell is going on.”

Chapter 12

His expression didn’t alter, but his fear leapt between us, thick and strong. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“I mean,” I said harshly, “that I am not Hanna London. Someone has erased my memory and abandoned me here, and I want to know why.”

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“You do,” I interrupted harshly. “And if you don’t answer my questions, I promise you, whatever those men intended to do to you will pale in comparison to what I’ll do!”

He stared at me, his expression fierce and yet scared. “Hanna, I’m not sure why you’d think—”

“Who’s holding your soul mate hostage, Evin? Who are you really?”

He didn’t say anything for several seconds, then he sighed. It was a defeated, desperate sound. “How long have you known?”

“That you aren’t my brother? Almost from the beginning. Initially, I couldn’t have told you his name or what he looks like—”

He looked so shocked that I stopped and stared at him. “What?”

“But I am your brother.”

And he said it so adamantly that I half believed him. But it wasn’t true. I knew my brother. Evin wasn’t him.