Hunted in Holly

Chapter 10

The wind howled through the night, but I managed to sleep despite. The whistle and roar was almost more a comfort than a burden. I loved a good blizzard. It reminded me of so many holidays snuggled up at home.

I’d make it back. I only had two more days, and he would have to keep his promise. No Saint could break his word on Christmas Day.

So I simply had to slow him down. He seemed easily distracted and quick to let me escape, likely because he was so absolutely certain he’d be able to catch me again. That ego of his was my greatest weapon. I just needed a new strategy.

He’d out tracked me yesterday, so today I’d out trap him.

I climbed out of my small ice shelter, rolled my shoulders, then went through a quick routine of stretching and warming up for the day. The wind was still blowing, kicking up increasing amounts of loose powder, but we weren’t quite in white out conditions yet. So long as I could see what was around every bend, the chill and weather were mostly just a nuisance. It was possible for me to freeze to death, technically, but I’d lived in these conditions for long enough that it would take significant trauma to get me there.

Though I couldn’t discount his ability to subject me to significant trauma.

With no sign of Nicholas, I took my time mentally preparing for the day by assessing my tools and making a plan. He knew where I was, more or less, so I’d need to get moving soon, and I’d have to find a place he wouldn’t immediately think to look for me.

In my pack, beside the peppermint sticks and candy canes, I had a knife, a rope, and some simple netting for hunting and trapping small animals. For some reason, there was also a sprig of mistletoe in there, which I could only assume was some sort of stupid joke. A dumb plant that forced strangers to share a kiss didn’t seem terribly useful. I wouldn’t be acknowledging that thing any further. The rest, I could work with.

In the howling wind, I shimmied to the edge of the cliff, and I started down the side, lowering myself back into the trees. From my vantage point, I’d seen the expanse of the lake, only partially frozen and only a mile or two away. In another month it would likely be solid ice, but in December, there were still a few large gaps in the ice sheets, with direct access to unfrozen water.

I dropped into the waiting snow below, then started running for the lake. So many of the trees had been disturbed by both yesterday’s tussle and the growing storm, and the powder was whipping through the branches. I didn’t worry much about covering my tracks anymore.

My assailant still hadn’t appeared, but I knew he moved quickly and stealthily, so I didn’t suspect he’d give himself away that easily. The whistle of the wind made it difficult to track any sounds beyond my own crunching footsteps, anyway.

My breaths were heavy, and the frost stung my lungs. I was damn near wheezing by the time I broke into the clearing.

The lake came into view, stretching a mile or more in every direction. Broken shards of not quite frozen ice were bunched along the shoreline, cutting into piles of surrounding snow, and the largest sheet was only a few inches thick. It would be dicey, but it would be enough.

I took a deep inhale, counted, released, then cycled again, until I’d calmed my heart and breathing rate again. Back in sound mind, I started crafting a little surprise for my dear hunter. I already had the perfect bait in mind.