"Gabriel," she said, and she walked toward him, her arms outstretched, and he longed to turn on his heel, walk out and slam the door.
Like hell, Seanna.
Do you think, for one second, that I am going to play this role? Let you play the one you denied me for thirty years? No. Now, good night.
That was what Seanna Walsh deserved. Yet this woman before him, frail and shaky, was not the Seanna Walsh he knew.
Did she deserve to have him walk out?
He didn't know. He couldn't tell how much of her was in there, and if there was little of the woman he knew--as Rose believed--then for his aunt's sake, he couldn't walk out.
Seanna's thin arms went around Gabriel, and he forced himself to pat her back, awkwardly, holding his breath.
Rose was quick to take Seanna by the arm and lead her into the room, saying, "Gabriel's coming in to sit with you. Don't worry."
Rose saw his discomfort. But she mistook it for simply the great-nephew she knew, who abhorred physical contact. This was different. For Gabriel, accepting a hug from a stranger was unpleasant, like an accidental shock--an experience not to be endured any more than necessary. A hug from Seanna felt like gripping that wire as tightly as he could. Unendurable.
Yet it had to be endured.
For Rose.
And for Olivia.
Six
Olivia
I did catch up. Well, Rhyddhad did. Once we reached the others, though, we slowed to a trot, and the world settled around me. As soon as Rhyddhad came up behind the last Huntsman, his horse instinctively moved aside. Without even a glance back, they kept giving way until Ioan and I were up behind Ricky.
"Ricky?" Ioan called above the thunder of hooves. "Let Liv go first."
Ricky nodded and moved his horse to the side.
"No," I said. "I'd rather--"
"Go," Ioan said. "Take the lead. That is your place."
I didn't want my place. Not tonight. Next time, I'd take it. Next time...when we had quarry that didn't raise so many questions.
But that was Ioan's point, wasn't it? That I needed to face this because I was uncomfortable with it, and the truth was that I wouldn't be more comfortable with any case. We could be chasing a drug-addled thug firing a semi-automatic over his shoulder, screaming, "Yeah, I did it, you motherfuckers!" and I'd be
thinking he was too quick to take credit.
I would always question. So there was no point in waiting for next time. I had to make the leap. Lead the Hunt. Give the order. See justice done.
Watch Keith Johnson die.
I pushed Rhyddhad into the forefront. Then I called back, "What's the command?"
"For what?" Ioan said.
"To attack."
"There isn't one. The hounds will know."
I nodded. That helped--I wasn't sure I could form the words.
Ahead, the hounds were already closing in. They'd gotten Johnson deep into the forest; judgment had been pronounced, and all that remained was this final step.