The Hessian reclined beside the
sleeping boy listening to the white
witch calling his name above. He had known she would follow. Time passed
differently above; she must
have missed him and come looking in Sleepy Hollow. He had no intention of giving
up Ichabod
when he had worked so hard and expended so much energy drawing him back.
His skull held more power than the black witch had known. She could not
have stopped using that power even when her rivals were gone. It would have
called her
back again and again until it possessed her. He had never been content in life
to be a helpless
servant, he certainly would not allow it in death. It had been as much his
influence as fate that
had caused her to lose the skull that night. He had known the stranger would try
to wrest it away
to save the boy and woman. The moment Ichabod Crane's hand had closed on the
skull a link
was forged and the witch's juvenile love spell broken.
The pull of the link insured the boy would return sooner or later, and
the Horseman had been prepared to terrify him, seduce him with power, or
anything else it
took to bring the boy within his reach. He had never imagined the mortal might
come willingly to him
in such an open and vulnerable state. It still seemed impossible even with the
proof
sleeping soundly beside him. The boy's words still burned in his mind. Few
people had ever come
willingly to his bed in life or death, and rape did not interest him.
A fierce emotion siezed the horseman, part possessiveness, part a
strange protectivenss that was so alien to his nature that it almost did not
register. Fury and
killing rage swept through him. The handle of his battle axe was in his hand in
a heartbeat. If his
lover had looked at his face at that moment, he would have fainted.
He carefully disengaged himself from the boy's grasp and stood. He was
in full armour in a thought; being dead had its advantages. A wave of heat from
behind him
marked the coming of his steed. He swung up into the saddle and felt the
familiar rush of
excitement.
"Christiaan?"
The name froze him in his tracks.
He composed his face into a more neutral expression before reining
Daredevil around to face the boy.
He watched Ichabod rise stiffly and shiver before wrapping himself in
the first thing that came to hand , the Hessian's long riding cloak. The image
stirred emotions at
least as strong as the rage that still blazed within him.
"Is something wrong?" The mortal moved cautiously past the restless
animal to stand by his knee looking up with concern and curiosity shining in
those bottomless eyes.
The Horseman considered lying for a moment, but such had never been his
style. He did not think Ichabod would approve if he knew he was contemplating
killing the
witch, Katrina. He chose instead to evade the question entirely. "You need
food and
water."
"You're going back into the real world then? Could I come with you?"
The last was said in an oddly shy voice he could never have resisted.
"As you wish."
The Hessian tracked Katrina as Ichabod dressed. His movement's were
slow and rather stiff which was all to the good. The western woods were part and
parcel of
him, nothing moved there without his knowledge. Every bird and beast served as
eyes; every tree
as his ears and the very mist, his hands. She had taken the blacksmith's nag
with her and headed
toward town. The forest kept watch in silence until the intruder was gone.
Then the human was dressed in the remnants of his clothing and eyeing
the stallion apprehensively. The Hessian reached out a gloved hand and was
pleased
to see the fear on Ichabod's face turn to confidence and trust. He swung the boy
up in
front of him with ease. The child was too thin. He weighed nothing. With a
gesture, he materialized
the long cloak around both of them and pulled his lover firmly against his body.
There was a gut-wrenching moment of vertigo and the horse's hooves were
thundering down on the forest path.
Ichabod gripped the saddle tightly and shuddered as the demon leapt
into the night away from from the clearing. The trees of the forest seemed to
open before them
in their headlong flight. Eventually the boy relaxed back against him and opened
his eyes. A
savage pride filled the Horseman. The boy was young and sheltered, but he was no
coward. The
dead man vowed silently that he would kill them all before relinquishing this
one.