Huntress Clan Saga Complete Series Boxed Set: Books 1-6
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Clark smiled at the boy on the other side of the bar. “Taylor, you take care of that. He looks old enough to tell you who to call. I’ll deal with the police. Quinn, call your mother and fill her in. Then we’ll wait for the cleanup team to arrive. After that, we can go home.”
Quinn nodded and pulled out her phone. She stared at it for a long time, trying to will Avery to call or text to let her know she was all right. When nothing appeared after a few seconds, she tapped out a long text to her mother. She slid the phone back into her pocket and started helping Clark check the bodies again so they’d be ready for whoever this cleanup team was.
It would be a long night. All Quinn wanted to do was go home. She couldn’t, though. She had to be here and be seen by those who responded. The people she’d stepped up to protect here in Baltimore needed to see her being involved and on top of what happened here. She looked down at her stained shirt and jeans, smeared with the blood of those she’d checked.
She cursed as she moved to the next body. Sometimes it sucked being the Huntress.
Chapter Seven
An hour after the cleanup team arrived, Clark said, “I have to stay a bit longer, Quinn, but you and Taylor can head home if you want. I can have Paddy send someone out to pick you both up.”
“You sure?” Quinn asked. She tried to hide her exhaustion, emotional and physical. The day’s training and the short night’s rest the evening before had caught up with her.
“Yeah. I’ve got to help the cleaners finish up and give a report to the police department’s supernatural liaison so they can document things on their end in a way that keeps all this under the radar.” He nodded at Taylor, seated in the corner with the bartender’s son. “She’s overwhelmed with all the carnage. She’s done well keeping the boy occupied, but I think she’s on the verge of full-on shift to wolf. Take her home. His family is on the way to get him and should be here soon. If I learn anything else about the attacks, I’ll fill you in over breakfast.”
“Can you make it lunch?” Quinn checked the time. “It’s 2:30. I’d like to sleep in, and I have to do a few things in the morning with Tadpole.”
“That works. It’ll give me time to sleep, too. I’ll call Paddy, and he can send someone from his late kitchen staff to pick you up. Go down to the corner so they don’t have to pull into the lot. The cleaners have it blocked with their panel van.”
Quinn went to give Taylor the good news. She and Sylvie were playing a game with Zane where he balled up bits of paper cocktail napkin and tossed them in the air for the dragon. Sylvie’s head tracked them as they came close, then she torched each one in a quick burst of magical flame.
It had kept the boy occupied well enough, though Quinn was surprised it hadn’t set off the smoke detectors mounted on the club’s ceiling. She switched her attention to her best friend.
Clark was right; Taylor didn’t look well. Every time someone moved inside the club’s bar, her eyes jerked in their direction and her talons emerged. That had to be taking a toll on her ability to remain in control.
Quinn approached slowly and forced herself to relax as she said, “T, come on. Let’s go outside. Clark’s sending us home.”
“What about Zane? We can’t leave him alone in here. It’s mostly cleaned up, but—”
“I can handle it, Taylor,” Zane interrupted.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. You’re doing better than I am.”
“It’s all right, T. His family should be here soon. It’s time for both of us to go home.”
Taylor nodded, a brief jerky motion. “We taking Clark’s car?”
“No, Paddy’s sending someone. They’ll meet us outside.”
Taylor stood, “Bye, Zane. Is it okay if I call and check on how you’re doing in a few days?”
“I’d like that, Taylor. Thank you.”
Taylor smiled and nodded at another shifter who showed up as they were talking. “Leslie will sit with you until your family shows up. Take care.”
Zane waved goodbye.
Sylvie flew up to land on Quinn’s shoulder, balancing there as they headed outside.
The cool night air struck Quinn with a blast of freshness. She hadn’t realized how foul it was inside the club with the odor of death. She wondered how a person’s nose became used to something like that. It must’ve been even worse for Taylor, with her heightened senses.
Quinn glanced at her friend. The change of location seemed to have an immediate positive effect. “Good to get some fresh air, isn’t it?”
“I should have come out here a long time ago. I’m not as used to this kind of carnage as you are. I work my magic behind a desk with monitors and keyboards and stuff. This is way above my comfort zone.”
“I know. I wouldn’t have brought you if I had thought this was a possibility. You’ll feel a lot better after a shower and some rest.”
They started down the street toward the corner at the end of the street. Quinn glanced back up the street. A large panel van belonging to the cleanup crew blocked their view of the club from here.
Quinn’s phone chirped with a text. It was Clark.
One of the new cooks is on the way. Be there to get you soon.
As Quinn put the phone back in her pocket, a silver SUV pulled to the curb and the woman behind the wheel asked, “Need a ride?” She had an accent Quinn couldn’t place.
Taylor smiled. “That was fast.”
“Yeah, maybe Paddy called someone who lives nearby.” Quinn turned to the woman. “Thanks so much. You got here fast.”
The driver nodded and smiled. “I was in the neighborhood.”
Quinn pulled open the front passenger door and smiled at Taylor. “You can ride shotgun. You deserve it.”
The tech witch climbed in with a nod of thanks. Quinn got in the back seat. The little dragon moved from Quinn’s shoulder to her lap.
“You two going back home?” the woman asked as she pulled away from the curb.
“Yes, it’s been a long night,” Quinn replied. “I don’t remember seeing you around O’Malley’s. Clark said you’re new?”
“Uh, yeah, I, uh, just started. I haven’t been in the States very long.”
Taylor asked, “Where are you from?”
“Macedonia. It’s one of the Baltic states. Most people haven’t heard of it.”
Quinn had to admit she had no idea where it was on a map. Maybe Taylor did. She changed the subject. “I’m Quinn, and this is Taylor. Sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“Safka. It is okay. I never told you my name.”
Quinn smiled. “What’s your specialty, Safka?”
Safka glanced back at Quinn with her eyebrows raised. “What do you mean?”
“Clark said you were one of the new cooks. What do you cook at Paddy’s? Maybe Taylor and I can try it next time. I didn’t see anything new on the menu recently.”
“Uh, yes, I am a cook. I am best at preparing lamb.”
Taylor frowned. “There’s no lamb on the pub’s menu.”
“Not yet, but maybe soon.”
Quinn glanced out the window as they drove along. Safka wasn’t taking the route she would have used to get back to the eastern side of town.
“Hey, Safka,” Quinn said. “I know you’re new to the city, but there’s a faster way to get to the pub.”
“I use the way I know best.”
Quinn shrugged. She was tired and just wanted to get home and go to bed. She let her eyes close for a minute to rest them.
The SUV jerked to a halt, and Taylor screamed, “Quinn!”
Quinn’s eyelids popped up as someone yanked open the car door as she leaned on it.
Hands reached for her and slammed her to the sidewalk beside the vehicle. A deep-throated growl came from Taylor in the front seat.
Quinn rolled over just in time to avoid a sword stabbing at her back. Sparks flew when the tip skittered across the concrete.
She drew her Bowie as she rolled, trying to get back to her feet
so she could defend herself. All she could do, though, was keep rolling across the sidewalk as the sword came down at her again and again.
Quinn rolled against something hard, a fire hydrant. It stopped her and gave the woman chasing her the chance to catch up. The Bowie came around in time to catch the heavy blade descending toward her head.
“EEEEEEEEEP!”
Sylvie’s tiny battle cry split the night. The dragon swooped in and delivered a blast of fire to the face of the woman standing over Quinn.
The attack likely saved Quinn’s life since the woman dodged back. She beat at the wisps of smoke rising from the scorched ends of her bright red hair.
Quinn grabbed the top of the hydrant and pulled herself up. Sylvie circled around and shot another jet of flame at the woman. This time the flame was much smaller and lacked the distance to reach the target. The woman dodged with ease, ducking under the weak attack.
Damn, Sylvie’s earlier antics back at the social club to keep Zane occupied had used up her fire breath reserves. Quinn charged in. “Get clear, Sylvie. I’ve got this.”
She caught the redhead by surprise as she tried to recover from ducking the dragon’s attack. The heavy sword came up at an awkward angle.
Quinn ducked beneath the sword, twisting to jab the blade into Red’s thigh.
The woman screamed as the blade cut into her leg.
Quinn kicked out, catching the woman in the hip. It launched her backward to tumble to the ground about five feet away.
Using the momentary break to get her bearings, Quinn spotted Taylor in full werewolf mode, locked in combat with Safka. The woman’s eyes glowed red as she and Taylor wrestled for control of a hooked silver knife.
There was no time to come to Taylor’s aid, though. The other attacker bounced back to her feet. She charged in at Quinn, sword raised. “Time to get rid of you once and for all.” This time the woman’s voice had the otherness typical of most demon kinder. They only gained the control to normalize it with time and practice. Safka’s demon self had been around long enough to do that.
Quinn beckoned with her free hand. “Come and get some. I’m in the mood for killing.”
The woman rushed in, weaving her longer blade in a series of attacks. Quinn raised her Bowie, parrying the blade as it came in at her.
She missed Red’s forward snap-kick and it caught her in the belly, doubling her over and knocking her back to the ground.
Opening her HUD, Quinn siphoned off stamina and boosted her strength. It came online just in time for her to deflect the follow-up strike. The heavier blade crashed into her Bowie knife, driving down with so much force it almost dislodged the weapon from Quinn’s hand.
Rolling to the right, Quinn deflected the sword to the left and gathered her increased strength. She jumped up in a spinning motion that brought a roundhouse kick within a half-inch of the demon-kinder’s head.
Red jerked her face away with that preternatural speed the demon-kinder gave their host bodies. The arrogant sneer never left the woman’s lips.
Taylor had disengaged from Safka, who still held the hooked silver blade. The two circled each other in the street nearby beneath the streetlight.
Safka drove at Taylor, but the werewolf had anticipated the move. She grabbed Safka’s wrist and twisted it.
The blade clattered to the pavement beside the car.
Fighting without her knife didn’t faze the demon-kinder. She drove forward and fought Taylor barehanded. Given her strength and speed, it was still an even matchup. Quinn had to get over there and help her friend.
She swung her face to the side just in time to avoid an incoming slash from the other woman’s sword. The whoosh of air from the passing blade kissed Quinn’s cheek.
She had to stay focused. She couldn’t help Taylor if she was dead. The other chick was too good for Quinn to pay attention to Taylor and get away with it again.
Squaring up, Quinn studied her attacker.
Black ooze ran down her leg from where Quinn had cut her earlier. She barely limped, though. Those possessed by demons paid little attention to little things like pain.
The woman’s lips curled back in a snarl. “I might let you live if you tell me where your friend is with our little sisters.”
“Like I’d tell you anything, even if I knew.”
The demon-kinder feinted a lunge, then pulled back to continue circling. “Suit yourself. I’d much rather kill you.”
Quinn kept her eyes on the woman while trying to see everything else around her. There might be others on the way.
“Where are your friends? There’s no way you two killed all those people in the social club.”
“Those fools are no longer with us. The shifters were more trouble than expected, and our companions failed to live up to the test.”
Quinn nodded and smiled. Good to know. Most demons would lie outright but couldn’t avoid boasting. They lacked the subtle communication skills to hide important details, like the fact they had no reinforcements coming.
Something the woman had said earlier piqued Quinn’s interest. “Why did you call those little girls ‘sisters?’ I mean, they’re obviously not demon-kinder like you. I would think you’d want them dead, not claim them as kin.”
“Foolish girl. It takes the collective innocence of several to allow one of our great lords to overcome the barrier that has held us back for so long. They shall be the ones to open the way for us to return to our former glory. Gemma already prepared them for the ritual, melding their minds.”
“Maybe I should send you back to hell. You can pass along the message to your masters that the trip back will be delayed.”
As she said the last word, Quinn feinted and then lunged to the right, trying to catch the woman partially from behind. With luck, she might be able to get behind the demon-kinder.
With any other supernatural opponent, it might have worked.
The demon-kinder twisted her arm at an impossible angle, deflecting the incoming Bowie. The heavier sword batted the Bowie away with ease.
Quinn heard Red’s elbow pop out of joint as she did it, though. She tried to take advantage of the momentary disability, but the demon-kinder dodged.
She sneered at the Huntress and twisted the forearm back into the elbow joint.
Quinn shook her head. Hunter-trained bodies were perfect vessels for the demons, melding the combat moves Gemma and her supporters had taught them growing up with the speed, strength, and endurance of a demon-kinder. It made for a difficult foe. No wonder Avery was so worried about getting the girls up to Baltimore safely. How many more of these women did Gemma have?
A flicker of movement flashed in her direction. The next few seconds were filled with desperate parries and backpedaling as the other woman went into a full-on assault. The three-foot sword blade, modeled on a Chinese design, seemed to come at her from every direction at once.
Two times, it got past her defenses and drew blood. One was a scratch across her neck that almost opened her jugular vein. The second stabbed into her side, passing through muscle to come out the back.
Quinn fell back from that hit, sliding off the extended blade. She clapped her free hand down to staunch the blood flowing from the wound.
“The vaunted Huntress bleeds just like any other human. Now I move in for the kill.”
Red lifted her blade, but Sylvie dove in, raking the woman’s eyes with her dragon claws. The attacker shrieked, more from aggravation than pain as she tried to bat the flying dragonling away.
Quinn drew on more stamina and pushed through to overcome the pain in her side.
She backed up a few steps to try to put some space between herself and the demon-kinder, then gathered her will to boost the last of her strength and speed.
The demon-kinder’s fist connected at last and sent a screeching Sylvie tumbling through the air to crash into the bricks of a home nearby.
Quinn snarled at seeing the dragon hurt and charged at the woman.
Red w
as ready for her.
The sword came at Quinn again, and again, and again. All three strikes connected despite the Huntress’ best efforts. All were minor cuts compared to the puncture in her side, but the combination sapped her remaining power.
The woman raised her sword as Quinn stumbled over a raised crack in the sidewalk. The Bowie was out of position to stop this attack and Quinn fell to the pavement, wondering what it was like to die.
Then her opponent wasn’t there above her anymore.
In a blur Quinn had a hard time following, a hairy, snarling form slammed into the demon-kinder from the side. The impact carried them both into a wrought iron fence across the tiny plot of garden in front of the row home beside their battle.
The demon-kinder shouted once in alarm. The cry cut off in a gurgling rush of black ichor as the powerful wolf's jaws closed on her throat.
Like a true predator, the wolf shook its prey by the neck and snapped the spine, killing her instantly.
Quinn sat up, wincing at the pull on her stomach muscles around the wound in her side. The wolf backed away from the nearly decapitated corpse and turned to Quinn. In an instant, it was Taylor again.
The tech witch huddled into a ball, nearly naked after her full transformation destroyed the clothes she’d been wearing. What little of her clothing remained hung on her in torn strips. She vomited twice on the sidewalk and started sobbing.
Quinn pressed a hand against the wound in her side and crawled over to her friend. Pulling off her leather jacket, she draped over Taylor’s back.
“Hey, T, you did good. We’re okay. Put your arms into the jacket so we can cover you up some.”
“I can’t get the foul taste out of my mouth.” She spat blackened phlegm into the puddle of vomit.
“Come over here to the car. Maybe they had a water bottle or something in there to rinse with.”
Taylor stood, shivering in the early-morning chill. Quinn walked with her over to the SUV. It was still running. On the other side, lying in a heap in the middle of the street, was Safka. Her throat torn open like the other demon-kinder’s.