by Kiersten Fay
“No!” she screeched.
“Shut that banshee up!” one of the men yelled.
In the next instant, pain laced her cheek from the backhanded slap. As she tried to clear her jarred brain, her coat was ripped from her body. A disgusting string of appreciative noises came from her assailants, and she was slammed up against the burning hot side of the still running jeep.
“Is she the one?” the man near the cliff asked. His voice was odd, harsh and scratchy, like he’d been smoking since birth.
“Looks like it,” the man next to her replied. He was the youngest of the three. “We should bring her in, just in case.”
“We only need to bring in her head,” the third man laughed.
Cora gagged on a sob. Her eyes blurred from both horror and the pain that still stung her cheek.
“Shame to kill such a sweet ass,” Scratchy Voice said apathetically.
“Well, we don’t have to kill her right away. Is the vamp dead?”
“I shot him three times. What do you think?”
A pair of rough hands pulled her forward and pushed her toward Scratchy Voice. “You hold her. I call first crack.”
“No way. I’m the one who brought you in on this. I go first.” He shoved her aside.
“Screw that. I don’t do sloppy seconds,” the young man said.
“Fuck you.”
Fists swung between the two, while the third held a gun to her head and waited indifferently for the outcome.
Cora stood, shaking, heart thundering, as she contemplated what was sure to be the end of her life. What a sad, pathetic, useless end. How utterly unimportant her life turned out to be. Nothing but an ode to endurance with less than a few short months dedicated to happiness. Or as close to happiness as she would ever experience.
What was the point of life, anyway, if there was nothing but sorrow, heartache, and pain? If everyone was nothing more than cruelty wrapped up in the facade of civility. Morality was a joke created by cynics and con artists. Evil reigned at every turn. Anything good decayed like fruit and turned sour, hateful, greedy, and selfish.
She wasn’t fit for this world.
A snarling roar made the men freeze mid-fight.
Cora looked up.
A mountain lion stood atop a pile of rocks, some fifty feet away, its fangs bared at them.
The men swore and scrambled back.
The young one yelled, “Shoot it!” and the man with the gun to her head turned it on the animal.
Three loud shots echoed off the mountain ridges, but the sound hadn’t come from the directions she’d expected.
The three men fell lifeless, blood oozing from each of their skulls, staining the gravel.
Heart slamming, Cora crumbled to the ground, gasping and sobbing uncontrollably.
She gathered herself enough to glance around and take stock. The humans were dead. The lion was gone, most likely scared by the gunfire. She spied Mason’s upper body slumped over the edge of the cliff, a pistol in his limp hand. It seemed he had managed to pull himself up, but looked to be unconscious again.
“Mason?” she called, her voice shaking.
He didn’t respond, didn’t move.
The space around her now seemed eerily quiet, except for the jeep’s engine, which had been left idling.
Her mind jumped into overdrive, still riding on the heels of adrenaline. The wisest course of action would be to take the jeep and put as much space between her, Mason, St. Stamsworth, and vampires in general. Drive till either the car died, or she did.
At the thought, numbness coated her. Run till she died? It sounded no better than going back to the streets. Besides, Mason had saved her life. What was it? Three times now? She owed him for that at least.
Beating back her trepidation, she rummaged through the pockets of the dead men, claiming whatever cash she found. It wasn’t much. For good measure, she kicked one of them twice in the stomach. As pointless as it was, it made her feel better.
“Mace?” She knelt beside him and rocked his body. “Mace? Can you hear me?”
His eyes fluttered. “Cora…” He finished with an incoherent mutter.
“If you can make it into the jeep, I can drive us out of here and find help.”
Mace seemed to understand. His head tilted up to gauge the distance between them and the jeep. His arm moved to push against the gravel, slowly elevating his torso. She helped as much as she could, which was almost not at all. When he inched forward, she caught the sight of his back. One of the shots had probably penetrated his spine. She spotted another gory wound at his shoulder. That didn’t include the first that had gouged his chest. All three wounds oozed a foul-smelling green substance. She couldn’t imagine the kind of pain he was in.
As he lumbered forward, dragging himself along the ground on his hands and knees, she yanked him by the arm, urging more than helping him along. He paused, breathing heavily, then slumped down. His lungs heaved for air.
Her gaze darted over her surroundings. They were in trouble if those men had back up. Then she remembered that mountain lion. Any moment, it could return, enticed by the fresh scent of death.
“Get up, get up,” she chanted.
Mace pulled his arm forward and began to drag himself once more toward the jeep. Cora pulled up on his forearm when he tried to stand, offering leverage. He got to his feet, but went back down to his knees directly after. Again she helped him up, panting and sweating as she used all her strength to aid him in conquering another few feet.
With a sound of pain, he went down once more, catching himself by one strong arm. With the other, he clutched his chest wound. His face twisted in a grotesque mask of unimaginable agony.
“Not far now,” she encouraged.
Inch by inch, she helped him crawl across the gravel toward the jeep. The whole process must have taken twenty minutes or more, but eventually they succeeded in getting to the jeep.
His muscles bulged angrily as he pulled himself into the passenger seat while she tried to lift his lower half. When he was fully inside, he let out a harsh breath. His body folded forward over the dashboard.
Cora closed the door behind him, took the driver’s seat, and drew in a deep breath.
What in the hell am I going to do now?
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Other Books By Kiersten Fay
Creatures of Darkness Series
A Wicked Hunger
A Wicked Night
A Wicked Desire
Keeping His Siren
Shadow Quest Series
Demon Possession
Demon Slave
Demon Retribution
Demon Untamed
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About the Author
Kiersten Fay is the author of the steamy romance series, Shadow Quest, in which she combines paranormal romance and sci-fi romance with loose concepts from lore and mythology. In 2013, her short story, Racing Hearts, was published in The Mammoth Book of Futuristic Romance. In 2012, via Gravetells.com, she won Favorite Story of August 2012 for Demon Retribution, the third book in her Shadow Quest series, and received a nomination for favorite author in that same year.
Copyright 2017 by Kiersten Fay
https://www.kierstenfay.com/
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination.
License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only, and may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
Kiersten Fay, Keeping His Siren Part 2
