Night Falls on the Wicked

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Night Falls on the Wicked Page 10

by Sharie Kohler


  With fresh determination feeding her heart, Darby quickly moved to the bed. Looping her arms beneath Aimee, she held her close, inhaling and savoring the child’s sweet scent for a moment. When she turned back around the demon was gone—not even its shadow lingered.

  They had to slip out now. The lycans would expect them to stay put—they wouldn’t suspect that she’d dare come out while they were in full shift. She pressed her ear close to the door again, listening for several moments. Her adrenaline rushed, pounding in her veins. Readjusting Aimee in her arms, she carefully unlocked the door, mentally ordering her hands to stop shaking so much.

  She stood still for a moment with the door unlocked. She waited, in case they’d heard the faint click, as though she expected the lycans to burst through the unlocked door and pounce upon her.

  Nothing. The silence hung as thick as the odor of death on the air. Tightening her single arm around Aimee, she turned the knob and opened the door. She scanned the hall before stepping out, grateful for the runner that deadened her steps.

  She moved along the long corridor, easing on silent feet, hardly breathing, praying Aimee made no sounds and that she didn’t see her mother’s corpse.

  The coppery scent of blood hit her before she even entered the main living area. Two lycans lay sprawled within the gory mess, their grotesque forms sated, blood glistening crimson on their gray and brown fur. She swallowed back a cry at the remains of Aimee’s mother flung about the room. There wasn’t much left of her. Hardly anything to tell that she had even been a person.

  Forcing down the surge of bile that rose in her throat, Darby made her way carefully past the sleeping forms, her eyes darting everywhere, searching for a glimpse of car keys, all the while wondering: Where were the other three? Hopefully they were long gone from here, out for a midnight run or wreaking damage elsewhere.

  Still, no sight of the keys. Would they have left them in the vehicle? Did they put them away somewhere?

  She opened the front door without a sound. Still, she cast a glance over her shoulder, assuring herself the two lycans slept. Slipping outside, she hoped they didn’t feel the cold she let inside and awake. Once on the porch, she picked up her pace. She went for the car first. It would be easier to maneuver than the van.

  Please be in the car, please be in the car.

  If the keys weren’t there, they would have to hike it out on foot. At night, in this weather, God knows how they would manage. And then it occurred to her that would be just like in her vision. She couldn’t do that. No matter what, she couldn’t let it come to that.

  Crouching beside the car, she spied the keys through the window. With a sharp exhale, she awkwardly opened the back door and secured Aimee on the soft leather of the backseat, buckling her at the waist and letting her slump to the side. As quietly as possible, she shut the car door and got behind the wheel. As she turned the ignition, the car rumbled to life with a quiet purr.

  Yes.

  Immediately, her eyes flew to the rearview mirror, expecting the sleeping lycans to pour outside after her, but nothing happened as she put the car in drive and rolled away. The road was clearly marked and she followed the path through the trees. Her breathing eased and elation filled her as she put more distance between them and the house.

  The narrow road finally ended and they came to a two-lane country road. She hesitated, looking left and right, trying to gauge which one led back to town, wishing she knew the area better.

  She turned right, detecting a faint pink tinge to the night sky in that direction and assuming it was the lights from town.

  She pushed harder on the accelerator, anxious to reach town and people, safety from the beasts that prowled the moon-soaked night. The image of Niklas filled her mind then. She didn’t know why she thought of him just then except that she suspected he knew about these lycans—that he was here because of them. And that he’d kissed you and touched you and made you feel alive in a way that you haven’t felt in years. Maybe ever.

  She shook her head. It didn’t mean anything. She wouldn’t find him waiting for her. So he’d fixed her window and replaced her heater. That didn’t mean anything. Those were just actions of a nice guy who felt sorry for her.

  She followed the curve of the road, her hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel, excited in the knowledge that she’d escaped. That her vision hadn’t come to pass.

  A shape suddenly jumped in the middle of the road. She cried out as the headlights briefly lit upon the bearlike creature. She swerved to avoid hitting the beast, even knowing it was no bear. She tried to right the vehicle but it was too late. She drove off the road, crashing into a large drift of snow with a jarring thud. Snow slapped against the windshield in a heavy deluge.

  Her breath exploded in loud pants from her lips. The car still sputtered with life. She put it in reverse and pressed on the pedal. The tires spun, snow spitting up and covering the windows. They weren’t going anywhere. The car was buried.

  She took several even breaths and peeled her fingers free from the steering wheel.

  She couldn’t see anything. Snow covered almost all the windows, except the back windshield. She looked through the rearview mirror. No movement. Nothing but a world of white. She tried to back out again even though she knew it was useless. The engine revved pathetically. They weren’t going anywhere.

  She looked over her shoulder. Aimee was awake, peering at her with wide, uncertain eyes. The sight made her chest tighten almost painfully.

  “Where’s Momma?” she whispered, her small, colorless lips barely moving.

  Darby undid her seat belt and climbed into the back with her. Avoiding the question, she said, “I’m going to help you, Aimee. Do you believe me?”

  The girl nodded, but repeated her question. “Where’s Momma?”

  Darby glanced out the windows, looking for any sign of the lycan she’d seen on the road, the one that made them crash. She hadn’t forgotten about him.

  “Remember those bad men?” She flicked her gaze down to Aimee for half a second before looking out the back window again, scanning for movement, knowing they weren’t alone.

  “Yes.”

  She sucked in a deep breath, knowing Aimee wasn’t going to trust her if she started out lying to her. She locked gazes with her again. “They took your momma, honey. She’s gone.” She waited a moment for this painful information to sink in. Aimee stared at her with wide, uncomprehending eyes. “But we aren’t going to let them take us, okay? You got that?”

  “They took Momma?” Her lips quivered. Her small body started to collapse. “I want them to give her back. Tell them to give her back.”

  Darby shook her gently and then pulled her into a firm embrace, rubbing her back with quick, firm circles. “I know, I know. But they’re not going to do that. They’re bad men.” Monsters. “Your momma wanted you to be safe. And I’m going to see that you are.”

  A long mournful howl floated on the air. Darby quickly weighed their options. Wait here, a sitting duck, or attempt to reach town on foot. Another howl floated on the air, and her decision was made.

  It didn’t have to go down as in the vision. She could still avert that fate. A desperate fury rose up inside her. What would be the point of having these visions, if she couldn’t reverse them?

  At the moment nothing moved outside. Everything was still.

  She quickly adjusted the zipper on Aimee’s coat, pulling it as high as it could go. As if that would be enough to ward off the beasts hunting them. Darby pulled the hoods of their coats over their heads and smiled tremulously at the child. She took Aimee’s hand and gave it a tight squeeze. Holding the little fingers tightly in her own, she swung open the back door and stepped out.

  THIRTEEN

  C’mon, baby.” Darby forced a cheerful ring into her voice as her boots sank down into the snow. “We’re going to have to walk the rest of the way into town, but once we get there, I’m going to make you the biggest ice cream sundae you’ve ever s
een.”

  “What about that chocolate cake?”

  “Ahh, that sounds even better, doesn’t it? Excellent suggestion. We’ll have warm chocolate cake with ice cream on the side. How does that sound?”

  With a sniff and swipe at her nose, Aimee nodded, her small hand snug within Darby’s. “Maybe Momma will get away and meet us there? She likes cake, too.”

  Darby’s heart clenched. She couldn’t bring herself to answer the girl—to tell her that her momma was never going to get away. Not yet. Not until they were out of this.

  The cold cut into them like knives as they moved. Darby wrapped an arm tightly around Aimee’s shoulders and walked quickly, pulling her close. She bent her head and tucked her chin into her parka as they advanced down the road.

  After a moment, she glanced behind her, satisfied to see that the car was out of sight. They were making good ground at least. She opened her mouth to offer an assurance that they would be there soon, when another howl ripped the night. So close it felt like the animal was on top of them.

  She froze, looking wildly all around her, expecting to see a lycan bounding out of the trees at them. She saw nothing, but in the distance, she heard a thrashing sound, like something tearing through the brush.

  “Run,” she gasped, pulling Aimee along. Just as in her vision, she ran, her feet pumping hard through the snow, the moisture soaking her jeans up to the knees.

  Aimee tripped and Darby swung her up into her arms. Heedless of the extra weight, she ran, her legs burning from the strain. Her lungs ached, ready to explode from her chest.

  The thrashing sounds intensified, were all around them now. She saw it then, a flash of eyes through the trees along the road. Icy silver and surrounded by the blackest of fur. They trailed her, toying with her.

  The howls congested the air now. The forest was alive with the sounds of them—predators. The beating of their feet. The harsh crash of their breaths. Just as in her vision.

  She swallowed thickly and stopped, dropping against a tree along the roadside. The snow-covered bark chafed her back. Aimee’s warm breath fanned her throat, a bittersweet reminder of why she had to live. Her survival was for both of them. Aimee didn’t lift her head, didn’t look, didn’t speak. Her thin arms clung so tightly Darby could scarcely draw breath.

  She held herself still—quiet—her gaze darting around, plotting her next move, wondering if they should just find a spot and hide until daybreak.

  Too late—the lycans emerged from the trees, all five of them. Apparently the two in the house had woken. They were varying shades of brown, gray and black. All bloodstained and grisly. Enormous, with slavering teeth that dripped gore from their recent kill. She wanted to look away but dared not.

  They crossed the road in a slow, stalking pace, fanning out in a wide semicircle before her. Their great hulking shapes were covered in matted fur. But even the fur did not hide the sinew rippling beneath.

  “Hey, remember me?” Darby fumbled for her necklace, holding it out by the chain, letting the charms dangle. “You wanted to keep me around, remember? I’m useful.”

  At the sound of her voice, Aimee started to lift her head to investigate. Darby pushed it back down ungently.

  She scanned the five creatures, trying to gauge which one was the alpha, Cyprian—the one she knew to direct her plea to. For some reason, her attention centered on the black-furred one. Not the largest, but the others seemed to walk in his shadow. He led the pack and stopped a few feet in front of Darby.

  She dangled the necklace, her voice a terrible quiver and reed thin on the air. “Remember me? You want to keep me around.”

  The lycan’s great jaws peeled back to reveal his yellow-stained teeth. Faint rivulets of pink, diluted blood traced his teeth and lined his gums. He released a low growl.

  Running would be useless. For one fleeting moment, she considered doing that ultimate thing—the one thing she vowed never to do. Summoning a demon to aid her.

  The question she asked herself was what she valued more—her soul or her life? Which was she willing to sacrifice? She knew that answer. She’d always known that answer.

  With conviction burning in her heart, she pressed her lips tightly together, silencing herself should she feel tempted to utter the words, to shout out for a demon’s aid in a moment of pain or distress.

  The alpha stretched his neck so that his face was close … close enough that she smelled the sourness of his breath, felt the heat of it fanning her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face, waiting, hoping it wouldn’t hurt, hoping he ended it quickly, that there would be no suffering—especially for Aimee.

  The pain never came.

  A shot exploded on the air. And then another.

  Darby’s eyes flung wide open. The black-furred lycan no longer stood before her. He was gone. A blurry ink spot on the white landscape.

  She whipped her gaze around and spotted a man holding a weapon. He was armed to the teeth, ammo strapped to his chest, and a gun in each hand. A knife glinted from a sheath at his waist and he wore multiple holsters. He was armed for battle. For lycans.

  Her gaze took all this in with a sweep—before actually seeing him. The real him. The face of the man she knew. Niklas. Her heart leapt with instant hope. And something else strange and indefinable. He stood tall and capable-looking, his indigo eyes glowing with that otherworldly light, and something besides her heart leapt. Her stomach flipped.

  Two lycans lay dead. Blood so thick that it looked black seeped into the snow around their bodies.

  She watched Niklas approach and riddle several more bullets into each of the bodies. Steam wafted over the wounds. Silver. It had to be. She knew it was the only thing that could stop a lycan.

  A blur flashed across the air. In a blink, Niklas turned to greet the new threat. They came together simultaneously in a crash of bone on bone.

  Niklas had been lucky with the shots. She was sure his luck wouldn’t last. Not against creatures with supernatural powers. Even if he beat this one, there were still two other lycans unaccounted for. Her skin shivered at the memory of them. She wasn’t sticking around for them to direct their attention back on her and Aimee.

  She lowered Aimee to the ground and grabbed hold of her hand. “C’mon, sweetie. Keep up.” Holding tightly, she took off, pulling the child after her.

  Even as they tromped through the snow, guilt pained her for leaving Niklas. She wanted to stay—wanted to help him. But she knew she could do nothing except get them both killed if she did that. And there was Aimee she had to consider.

  “Were those monsters?” Aimee gasped beside her, and Darby grimaced, realizing she’d let the girl see them, after all. Guess she could only shield her from so much when this was the frightening reality that surrounded them.

  Ignoring the question, she tugged harder on her slight hand. “C’mon, keep up. We’re putting them behind us.”

  Then suddenly she wasn’t holding anything anymore. Her fingers groped air. She spun around—assuming the child had fallen—ready to haul the girl back to her feet again.

  But she was gone. Darby jerked her gaze off the empty space in front of her, where she expected Aimee to be, and scanned the area all around her.

  From the corner of her eye she glimpsed a streak of brown. She narrowed her gaze on the spot and a lycan running away through the trees with Aimee struggling in his arms.

  “Aimee!” she screamed, running several steps before tripping on a tree root hidden beneath the snow and falling to her knees. She was up again, still screaming even when she could no longer see them. They were gone.

  She followed in the lycan’s tracks, only dimly wondering about Cyprian and Niklas as she focused on finding Aimee. She struggled ahead, even after it became clear she wouldn’t catch up with them. The only sound she could hear anymore was the crashing of her labored breath on the vanishing night. And then a scream—shrill enough to shatter glass.

  She froze for a fraction of a moment, goos
e bumps breaking out over her flesh. “Aimee!”

  Spurred to life, she pushed harder then, freezing tears trailing her cheeks as she ran.

  She stopped suddenly, seeing something, the bright splash of pink that was Aimee’s coat through the trees in the road ahead. She rushed forward, numb to her actions, uncaring that she in no way could stop this from happening. She had to try. Her aunts had been there for her after her mother died. Someone needed to be there for Aimee, too.

  She grabbed the discarded coat with both hands and hugged it close, glancing around, despair rising up to choke her as she felt the slick sensation of blood on the fabric. “Aimee!” she screamed. “Aimee!”

  A shot rang out in the woods, reverberating off the towering trees.

  She picked up the tracks in the snow again and charged through the trees, stopping when she came upon a person bent in the snow.

  Catching her balance, she eyed the broad back of the familiar figure. “Niklas?” she whispered. Apparently he was okay.

  He unfolded his great length from where he crouched, turning to face her. And that’s when she saw his arms weren’t empty. He cradled an unconscious Aimee, and behind them lay the corpse of the lycan, gradually returning to his human form.

  “Aimee,” she breathed, reaching for the girl, eager to take her back into her arms. “You saved her.”

  He sharply pulled her out of Darby’s reach, like a toy he would hoard for himself. “No. I was too late,” he announced. “She’s dead.”

  Darby’s gaze flew to the still girl, only then seeing the nasty wound at her shoulder—the shredded purple sweater soaked in blood, where the lycan’s teeth had torn through to get to her. A choked sob escaped her. No! No! I promised she would be okay.

  Her small face was ashen, lips a pale purple tinge. She was still, hanging limply, lifelessly in Niklas’s arms. Dead. Darby’s shoulders slumped and a heaviness lodged deeply in her chest.

  And then Aimee let out a little mewl of pain.

 

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