“This is interesting,” Thor drawled softly.
Alexander cracked his knuckles. “I’ll take the right, you take the left.”
“Wait a bit,” Thor said, then raised his voice. “You know boys, I don’t often offer advice. I figure everybody’s got a right to be stupid now and again. But since we’re in a hurry and I’m sure you don’t really want to die tonight, I tell you this: you don’t know it, but you’ve dug yourself down into a deep hole. Best cut your losses now and stop digging. And by that I mean turn around and run before you get yourselves dead.”
“Fuck off!” came a voice from within the tunnel.
Alexander growled and he unleashed his Prime. Thor’s Blade rose, and the air turned thick with the ferocity of their threat.
“Holy shit,” one of the attackers said, and fear shook his voice. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know, but I ain’t hanging around to find out.” One of the men on the right fled, leaping up the bank through the snow and disappearing. His companions hesitated, then followed him.
“Williams?” someone in the tunnel yelled. “Williams! Royce! Garcia! Get your asses back here!”
Alexander lost patience. He lunged up over the rail onto the sidewalk on the left. Before the three men there could react, he slammed into them. He tore a shotgun from one and jammed the butt into his stomach before bashing it against the second one’s skull. He kicked the last one in the thigh. The man shrieked as his leg broke, and he dropped to the ground in a whimpering ball.
Alexander started prowling forward.
“Run now, boys, if you want to live!” Thor yelled. He was at the other end of the tunnel, having vaulted up to the top of the pass and dropped down on the other side. Now the tunnel insiders were trapped between him and Alexander.
A shotgun blast struck the wall near Alexander’s head, showering him with bits of cement. He launched himself. Thor struck from behind. In just a few seconds, the two waiting men lay still on the ground. Alexander did not wait to see if they were still breathing. Instead, he set off again. Thor fell in behind.
Suddenly, an explosion of Divine magic shook the air, and red flames shot high in the air. It blinded Alexander’s spirit sight. Max had been headed in that direction. He started to run.
He and Thor came to the river and raced along it. The tall red flames vanished, and they followed the sounds of gunshots, screams, and more explosions. Less than a mile down, they came abreast of a walled compound on the south side in McCormick Park. Along one side was a smoking gap. Fires burned within the camp, but the gunshots were dwindling. The falling snow made it impossible to see anything distinctly.
“Over there,” Thor called, pointing to a railroad bridge.
The two Blades skimmed across, over the invaders’ bridge and up over the rubble in the gap just as Max and Tyler appeared at the top. Both were plastered in mud and blood.
Alexander did not think. He snatched Max up against him, one arm snaking hard around her waist, the other holding the back of her head. He kissed her with all his pent-up need, fury, and fear. It was brutally hard. His teeth ground against hers, and he thrust his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her, devouring her. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut at the almost unbearable wave of relief and joy that swept over him at having her in his arms again.
The kiss went on, and he dimly became aware that she was holding him just as hard, her fingers digging into his flesh like grappling hooks. She pressed hungrily against him, her body taut and shaking. He felt her moan deep in her chest, and his arms spasmed tighter.
“This is all romantic and all, but don’t you two think we ought to get Gregory and get a move on?” Tyler asked.
Max stiffened and pushed herself away. Alexander forced himself to let her go. Her lips were swollen, he noticed with supreme satisfaction. She was his, whether she liked it or not.
“Good to see you, too,” she said, but her voice lacked the warmth he ached for. He found himself recoiling, his emotions snapping back like a broken rubber band. It sent him spiraling. He felt unmoored, like a ship adrift in a hurricane, and he had no means to bring himself to shore.
“Where is Gregory?” he asked, stepping back, his expression shuttering. He could not rein in his Prime.
Max’s eyes narrowed at his reaction. “Back at the signal shack.” She pointed.
The four of them crossed back over the moat.
“So,” Thor said, breaking the tense silence. “Anything new happening here?”
“Well,” Tyler said, “not really. There was the demon attack. Oh, and then Sterling got into Horngate again with his dust and nearly killed Max and Giselle. Both Xaphan and Tutresiel seem to be showing signs of life. So hardly anything, really. How about you? Anything interesting happen to you two?”
“Pretty much the same as you. Had a bit of an episode with a rock troll. It nearly killed Alexander. Isn’t that a coincidence? Then we were chased by a very fast enchanted forest, after which we got introduced to a family of salamanders. One of them snatched up Spike and disappeared into a fiery hole. The Grims followed, and the ground snapped shut. Really, just another boring night.”
“You were almost killed?” Max asked Alexander in a strangled voice.
“Thor exaggerates.”
“Thor does not exaggerate,” the man in question said.
“Shut up,” Alexander said.
“See what I have been putting up with?” Thor asked Tyler. “He’s worse than a grizzly bear with a sore paw.”
“Maybe he needs a little honey,” Tyler said suggestively.
“Shut up, Tyler,” Max said.
“I think she needs a little honey, too,” he whispered loudly.
Alexander tossed a blistering look over his shoulder.
They came to a small shack beside the railroad tracks. Max opened the door.
“All over, Gregory. Come on out.”
Nothing.
She looked inside, then wrenched back. “He’s not here.”
“Where the hell did he go?” Tyler asked.
“Damned witches,” Max said. She looked at Alexander. “Can you see his flame?”
He pushed his senses outward but could see only gray. “That explosion of magic seems to have fried my circuits for the moment,” he said.
“This way,” called Thor. He had found tracks leading away along the front of the livestock enclosure. The four of them broke into a jog.
“Tris, Geoff Brewer, and Doris Lydman jacked a ride with the guys we picked up in the demon attack. They’re going hunting for Kyle, Tory, and Carrie,” Max said. She ran shoulder-to-shoulder with Alexander.
He stopped, scowling. “Guys you picked up?”
She nodded. “Ex-soldiers, it looked like. They’d been tracking the demons that killed Simon. We joined them.”
That killed Simon. So that was who had died. He wanted to offer her comfort, but she clearly did not want it. Instead, he focused on what she was saying. “Do you trust them?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. They handled themselves well enough. But who knows what they’re about to run into, or if they’ll have Tris’s back when the shit hits the fan? What the fuck was she thinking?”
“She wants to protect her daughter, and she does not like sitting and waiting. She is your sister, after all,” he said, his mouth twisting in a sardonic smile.
“Giselle thinks they won’t make it into town with the snow. I think they’re probably already here. Tris is too stubborn not to get her way, and Liam and his crew are motivated. They witnessed the thing at the River Market, too. They wanted to get back to their families.”
“So they might leave Tris, Geoff, and Doris high and dry once they get here.”
“They could. I don’t think it’s their style, though.”
He nodded and then spun around and started following the tracks again. Thor and Tyler had outdistanced them. Suddenly, Alexander stopped and confronted Max, unable to stop himself.
“You did n
ot call me,” he said, his voice full of rusty nails.
She recoiled, then her shoulders squared, her expression turning stubborn. “No. Was I supposed to?”
“You almost died.” His voice went flat. If he let his emotions out, he would not be able to control himself. He would pick her up and shake her. Or kiss her. Or maybe fall on his knees and beg.
“I almost die a lot. It’s not exactly breaking news.”
“I do not like it.”
She snorted. “It’s not like I enjoy it. I’d rather be in Tahiti.”
“You could have fooled me,” he ground out.
“If it bothers you so much, why don’t you just hop a ride on a different roller coaster?” Her head tilted as if she was genuinely curious.
I would if I could. “Maybe I should.”
“My, but you’re in a crap mood, Slick. Did you get your period or something?”
“I do not know who I want to kill more right now—you or me,” he growled.
“Sounds very healthy. Maybe you should call a shrink. I hear Dr. Phil is available.”
He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut, giving a frustrated shake of his head. There was no point to this. He turned and started off again.
“I missed you,” she said.
The words sounded small, as if they hurt to say. For Max, it was a big step. She did not often reveal her real feelings. For Alexander, it was not nearly enough.
“You miss Ben and Jerry’s,” he said in disgust. “Not to mention avocados, chocolate, and Taco Bell. I am pretty sure I’m down on the bottom of the list of things you miss.”
She ground her teeth. Good.
“Mother of fuck, Slick. What crawled up your ass and died?”
“Let us just say I got slapped with reality,” he said, and jogged away. Inwardly, he sighed. What had possessed him to fall in love with such a stubborn, annoying woman?
Gregory had found a bridge and crossed back over the river, winding through a dark neighborhood.
“Is it me, or is there a path cleared for him?” Tyler wondered out loud.
“It’s not you,” Thor answered.
“So he was lured,” Max said. “Sterling has to be behind this. We need to hurry.”
Magic swelled in the air like a storm. Alexander broke into a fast run, with Max at his shoulder and Thor and Tyler hard on their heels. They passed the cemetery, the magic thickening around them. The hair on Alexander’s body prickled like a wire brush. A growl reverberated deep in his chest.
The world went still. The snow hung motionless as a photograph.
Alexander drew a breath. The air was molasses.
“This is not good,” Max said, her voice elongated and slow.
“What else is new?” Alexander’s voice was distorted as well.
They could still move. The snow was a curtain that clung to them like thick cobwebs. Alexander dashed it from his eyes. It felt sticky and strange. They wandered through it, searching for Gregory.
Alexander’s spirit sight began to return. Ahead, Gregory’s spirit flame was cream and green. It burned incandescent, as did his magic, which lit up the night like a small star. Near him was something else. It oozed along the ground in thick blue vines, winding and twisting in a mystical weaving. It circled the witch, trapping him in place.
“What is it?” Thor asked as the four stopped outside the curls and twists of the thing on the ground. “Is it a spell, or is it alive?”
Alexander had no answer. Max knelt and flipped out a knife. She prodded a gleaming tendril, and magic exploded. She flew backward, landing a good twenty feet away. She hoisted herself to her feet and returned.
“Well, whatever it is, it didn’t like that,” she said, dusting herself off. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and her breathing was wet, as if she’d broken a rib and it had punctured a lung.
“Got any ideas?” Alexander asked.
“I think we should get Gregory out of there before it kills him and us. And hope we all don’t die, anyway,” she said, cracking her knuckles absently.
“We could call Giselle.”
“She’s already on her way into town, but she’ll never get here in time to help him. Gregory’s giving all he’s got. He’s not going to last long. I doubt I could get into the abyss and back with her in time.”
In fact, the gaunt witch was caught up in an intense struggle. From his expression, it was clear he was fighting for his life. His magic flared white, creating a thin shell around him. Veins of green magic flickered within it, coalescing into knots and then spreading like roots. It held the twisting blue vines away from him, but the pattern on the ground was growing more dense and condensing. Its edges were starting to lift, as if it intended to close around Gregory and swallow him.
“So we go get him,” Alexander said, his body tensing.
“Are we going in with a plan?” Tyler asked. “Or are we just going balls to the wall and hope it works out?”
The corner of Max’s mouth crooked up, and she shook her head, her gaze locked on the tableau in front of them. “We’re going to wing it. I’ll jump over to Gregory—my unlocking spells should drop me through his shields without damaging them. Then I’ll jump him out. You three try to distract the creature or spell or whatever the fuck it is.”
She did not wait for a response but launched instantly into the air. Alexander drew two of his knives and followed, slicing the blades through the dirt and dragging them through the writhing ropes of blue as he went. He did not get far. Magic seared him. It was like stepping on a land mine. He was thrust backward like he had been shot from a cannon, landing on his back. The air exploded from his chest, and his vision went black as his head slammed against the ground.
Luckily, the snow cushioned his fall enough that his skull did not shatter. He rolled to his stomach and lunged to his feet. He raced back. Tyler and Thor had done better. Thor was flinging a salt, herb, and metal mixture over the vine pattern, while Tyler jabbed at it with his knives. The pattern twitched and rippled in response, then snapped upward, knotting into a ball where Gregory had been standing just a few moments before.
Max and the witch were a hundred yards north and heading east as fast as she could run. The other three Blades followed. The snow was falling again, but magic swelled livid and angry behind them.
“Faster,” Alexander called sharply.
They overtook Max. Her body was a mass of scarlet burns. Most of her clothes had been charred away. She was carrying Gregory in her arms, but it was a struggle. The witch was awake, though clearly exhausted and weak. He was arguing with her to put him down.
Alexander slowed long enough to snatch the witch and toss him over his shoulder. Tyler had already swung Max up piggyback, and they ran as fast as they could.
They found themselves in an open area. The ground was tumbled and scrubby with sage and weeds poking up through the snow. The place had been used as a gravel pit, for dirt-bike riding, and likely for dumping trash and getting high. Thor led the way toward a tall mound of dirt and gravel, now covered with snow. He circled around to the other side and dropped down into a steep trench. The others jumped down beside him.
Alexander kicked aside snow until he found dirt and lowered Gregory down. Instantly, he turned to Max. She was on her knees, pulling snow up over her melted flesh. He made a harsh whining sound, stretching out for her, stopping when she flashed a look at him. Her eyelids were gone and most of her nose. Her hair was a matted black cap plastered to her skull. Her fingers were blackened stubs, and her skin looked like melted wax.
His hands dropped, and he swallowed bile. His Prime raged, clawing, shredding at his insides.
Thor had turned and was quietly retching. Tyler was swearing, his face white. Gregory was struggling to stand.
“Let me—” he began, and got no further.
A scouring blast of magic swept across them like the shock wave of a nuclear bomb. It brought with it a wind that rushed past with all the fury of a superh
eated tornado. Alexander pushed Max down into the snow and huddled over her to protect her. Tyler added his bulk to shielding her.
Alexander felt her body quivering. Helplessness strangled him, and he struggled to keep his Prime from overwhelming his mind. He was constantly fighting for dominance, to keep from sliding over the edge and disappearing entirely into his beast. He had thought he had gained mastery, or at least equilibrium, but when it came to his feelings for Max, all bets were off.
The snow in the trench melted instantly, leaving them in pools of tepid water and squelching mud. Gravel pelted them in a stinging hail. Then, just as quickly, the wind stopped, and the air dropped to well below zero. The water skimmed with a skin of ice. The temperature continued to drop. Thor wrapped Gregory in a hug, pulling the witch tightly against him to keep him warm.
Alexander hesitated. Ordinarily, Max’s spells protected her body from the temperature. But she’d been badly hurt, and all of her energy was going into healing. He did not know if she could handle the still-dropping cold. She made his mind up for him when her teeth chattered and then stopped suddenly, as if she had clamped her jaws tight.
He pushed Tyler away and sat down on the ice, pulling Max’s ruined body onto his lap. He did his best to ignore her soft mewls of pain, although the sounds raked his Prime and sent his mind spinning with torment and rage. Sterling was going to pay dearly for doing this to her.
He tore off his vest and held her against the warmth of his chest.
“Easy,” he whispered against her crisp, melted hair. “I have you. Easy.”
He reached out and fumbled inside one of the pockets of his vest, pulling out his silver emergency sack. He pulled it around her. It acted as a blanket, reflecting heat back onto her. Tyler crouched on the other side of her, his arms wrapped around his stomach as he could only watch helplessly.
She quivered. The temperature continued to drop, and the snow swallowed the world again. The stench of the Divine penetrated everywhere: a caustic, sweet miasma that filled Alexander’s lungs like cold oil. Once again, the magical blast had burned out his ability to sense far. Only this time, it was worse. It was like the brilliant splotches left behind after staring into a bright light. Odd blurs and smears of ghostly magic swam across the landscape, and he could not tell real from false. He might as well be wearing a burlap sack on his head.
Blood Winter (Horngate Witches) Page 17
