“Like I said, the grenades didn’t take,” Liam said, stopping a few feet away.
“You could have been more specific,” Tyler said acidly.
The other man stared, his gaze stony. “Would it have made a difference?”
“Might have.”
“You got rid of that sac, the noise, and the mist crap. I count that as a win. So what now?” Liam asked Max. His gaze dropped to her arm, and his face paled. “Shit. That looks bad.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said with a shrug. She winced. “Eventually. Anyhow, we’ll do the only thing we can do: keep fighting until Giselle gets here.”
He tore his eyes from her mangled arm. “She’s the Wicked Witch?”
“Yep.”
Before he could say anything else, his men let out yelps of surprise, whipping their guns up as Oak, Jody, and Steel arrived. The three Blades approached so quietly no one had noticed them. Liam swung around, then looked at Max. “They’re yours?”
She nodded. “I’d appreciate it if you had your men lower their guns.”
“Do it,” he barked, and his men obeyed, a few very reluctantly.
“What about Gates?” asked one with gray eyes and black hair. “Where is he?”
“That the one you took the headphones from?” Oak asked Max.
She glanced the question at Liam, and he nodded confirmation.
“He’s going to need some healing,” Oak said. “Fell out of the tree and sucked up some mist before I could find him.” He tapped a finger near his eye. “I went pretty blind for a while.”
“How bad?” Liam asked, scowling. It was the first bit of real expression Max had seen from him.
“He’ll be dying before morning if he doesn’t get help,” Oak said in a careless voice.
Liam’s lip curled in fury and disgust. His soldiers started railing at Oak, their voices ringing loudly. Worse, they lifted the muzzles of their guns.
Max glared at Oak.
He had the grace to look abashed. He held up his hands. “Sorry. Let me rephrase that. He’ll be fine once our healers can get a look at him.”
“Fine?” Liam demanded, but he was looking at Max. “Is that true?”
She shrugged. “If he doesn’t die first, then he can probably be healed.”
“That’s not very reassuring.”
“I’m not here to change your diapers, Chief. Soldiers die. You know it.” But it hurt. He knew that, too, just as well as she did.
His cheeks turned red, and his nostrils flared white. “He wouldn’t be in danger if you hadn’t taken his earphones.”
“No? Seems to me you were awfully close to being demon dinner. How many people have you already lost?”
“We’d have handled it,” he said, and his voice was flat and deadly cold.
“Sure. Right up until you ran out of bullets, and then they’d have made a tasty meal out of you,” Tyler said.
“It’s done now,” Max said, deciding the recriminations had gone on long enough. “Now we have to stay alive until Giselle gets here.”
Liam scraped his bottom lip with his teeth and nodded. “It isn’t as bad as it looks. They won’t all grow into new demons. Most will converge and combine until they’re big enough to become a demon. But the numbers usually double, maybe triple.”
“And they don’t seem to like fire,” Max said. She turned to her Blades. “Gather wood. We’re going to hem them in against the river.” They scattered instantly. She looked at Liam. “Have your men start gathering whatever’s moving and pile it over there on the remnants of the sac. We’ll see about getting them cooking.”
She didn’t wait to hear his reply. Her arm was starting to heal, but it still had no strength. She started skewering demon globs and piling them on the sac. Liam’s men joined in with grim determination. Max quickly realized her mistake when the globs started merging like drops of mercury. Quickly, demons started to form. She hacked them apart with her sword. The only saving grace was that they didn’t immediately start joining back together.
Her Blades hauled back entire trees and large limbs. They made an angular circle around the pile of demon scraps, with the heaviest fortification in a U shape away from the river. Max hoped that the combination of running water and a thin screen of fire on that side would be enough to keep them from escaping captivity. She wanted as big a fire on the other three sides as she could manage. Giselle didn’t have far to come from Horngate, but this was rough country, and she also didn’t have a good way to get there. It would probably be another hour or two before she arrived. That meant a couple of hours keeping the fire burning hot enough and high enough to keep the demons trapped. That was going to take a lot of wood.
Once the pile of logs was reasonably high, Max spread more of the incinerator powder around and lit it. It flared and became an inferno. It was burning through wood so fast the flames would likely die in less than ten minutes.
“Keep everyone gathering wood,” she told Oak and Tyler. “We’ll be in serious trouble if we run out.”
“The fire won’t kill them,” Liam said as he tossed a hunk of squirming flesh into the flames. “All it does is slow ’em down.”
“That’s all we have to do,” Max said, gingerly bending her injured arm. The flesh and skin had begun to regenerate, and it felt too tight. “We just have to keep the fire going till Giselle gets here. Don’t suppose you have a couple of chain saws in your pockets, do you?”
“Nope.” His head tilted. “Why are you doing this?”
“Seriously, Chief? Do you want to see these demons going rampaging and killing a lot of people? I sure as hell don’t.”
His brows rose. “What do you care? Why would you risk your life for strangers?”
“Did I say they were strangers?”
“I’m saying it.”
She shrugged, getting annoyed. “Maybe they are. But that doesn’t mean I want to see them slaughtered.”
“So you’re letting yourself get torn to shreds in order protect a bunch of people you don’t know. Just out of the goodness of your heart?” he asked incredulously.
She blew out an exasperated breath. “Why not? Besides, it protects us, too,” Max said. “Don’t go thinking it doesn’t.”
“But you could hang back and give up everybody else as easier targets. The demons would probably leave you alone,” Liam insisted.
“Maybe,” Max admitted. “Have you got a point?”
“I’m just wondering what you’re really getting out of this. I don’t buy you helping strangers for nothing. And we are strangers. Nobody goes through that”—he thrust his chin at her arm—“for people they don’t know.”
“Maybe some of us do,” Max said. “I don’t know what you want to hear, Chief. This is our job. That’s all I can tell you. Is it really all that shocking? Firefighters, cops, soldiers—they all do selfless things that get them maimed and killed. Hell, what are you doing fighting out here? What makes you better than us?”
He gave her a long look, then shook his head. “I’ve seen a lot since things changed. Most of it isn’t particularly benevolent. And if you were really interested in protecting Missoula, that bastard Benjamin Sterling wouldn’t be taking over everything and killing and torturing people.”
Max froze. “Benjamin Sterling,” she repeated flatly, carving the name into her memory. “Reddish hair? Walks around dressed like Jesus and calls himself the right hand of God?”
“That’s him. He’s no hand of God, either. If anything, he’s doing Satan’s work. Has a whole following called Earth’s Last Stand. They claim to want to root out everything unnatural. Like you, for instance. And anybody who doesn’t buy what he’s selling.”
Max stood stock-still, letting the information sink in. Then she whirled as sudden certainty struck her. She strode back and forth, scouring the ground and trees, searching.
“What are you looking for?” Liam asked, following her.
“Dust,” she said tensely. “Red dust.”
“Like this?�
��
He held up his arm. A smear of red dust stained his shirtsleeve. Max stared at it, her teeth grinding.
“That’s the stuff. Where did you find it?”
“It’s been on the trail.”
“What trail?” she demanded sharply.
“We had word that these demons were harassing folks up around Arlee. We went up to take a look and see if we could stop them before they came down and got us. We’re out of Rattlesnake Canyon on the north side of Missoula. Anyhow, by the time we got there, most of Arlee was dead. Torn to shreds and eaten, mostly.” He swallowed hard, his expression haunted. “This dust was all around, a trail we followed right here to them.”
“Then these demons are here because he brought them,” Max said slowly. “That dust is a mark of his magic. The question is why? What’s he up to?”
“Magic?” Liam blinked in shock. “What do you mean?”
“The bastard is a witch. Strong one, too.” She stomped a squirming piece of demon flesh flat before skewering it and carrying it back to the fire. Inside the flames, the rest of the demons were starting to take shape.
“I don’t believe it,” Liam said, but she could tell he wasn’t all that sure.
“Believe it or not, it’s up to you. You’ve been warned.”
Her Blades piled more wood on the fire, but it wasn’t enough. It needed to be hotter and higher. She and Liam worked awhile, the silence growing more tense. Finally Max broke it, wanting to explain Horngate to him.
“Most witches are selfish and power-hungry,” Max said. “They want to build strong covensteads and grow their power. Or become some kind of cult king, like your Sterling.”
“He’s not mine,” Liam denied quickly.
Max ignored him. “Horngate is . . . Giselle founded the covenstead as a refuge, a sanctuary. She saw the Change coming and wanted to make a place to save what she could of humanity. So we protect who we can. Strangers or not.”
“How many witches are there?” Liam asked. He shoved a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m seriously asking that.”
Max shrugged. “Until the Guardians unleashed the flood of magic back into the world, there was no reason you should know. Witches stayed under the radar. Everything Uncanny and Divine did.”
“What does that mean? Who or what are these Guardians? Uncanny and Divine? You said before that the demons were Divine.”
“The Guardians are, well, stupidly powerful beings that control our world. Or many worlds. I couldn’t begin to tell you any more than that. Uncanny creatures are made out of magic but can’t do magic. Divine things can.”
He digested that a moment. “What makes these demons Divine?”
She shrugged. “No idea. I can smell it, though.”
“Why didn’t they fight back against us with magic?”
Max looked down at the scar on her palm. Hidden underneath was the tiny angel feather Tutresiel had given her. Her stomach clenched, and her eyes burned. She blinked away the tears. Angels were Divine not because of some God on high but because they had the ability to give their feathers away, and those feathers had magical properties. What made the demons Divine could be something like that. Surely, if they could cast spells, they would have.
“No clue,” she said. “Sometimes magic isn’t all that easy to use.”
“I feel like I’ve wandered into a minefield on Mars.” He growled in frustration. “How do I navigate if I don’t even know what the threats are? How do I keep my people alive?”
“We’ll help,” Max found herself promising. She knew better than anyone what it felt like to lose people she was responsible for. If she could help him, she would.
Movement within the fire circle caught her attention. Demons. They were mostly full-grown and looking like they were ready for a fight. An unworldly chorus of cries erupted from their throats, sending goose bumps racing down Max’s legs.
“Looks like things are about to get interesting again,” Tyler said, tossing a heavy tree trunk onto the fire and coming to stand beside her.
“At least, this time, the rest of us will get a chance to play,” Oak said as he dragged up another pile of tree limbs and heaved them onto the fire. They were dead and dry and burst quickly into flame. Sparks rose in a brilliant dance. “You guys hogged all the action last time.”
“And here I thought you were just being lazy,” Tyler said. “Making us do all the work. Maybe this time we should sit it out and watch.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Max said. “Spread out. Here they come.”
White mist rose like a geyser. It spilled out over the fire circle and instantly doused the flames.
“Well, I guess we know at least one Divine thing they can do,” Max said to Liam. “Better get your men out of here. This is going to get ugly.”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. This is our fight, too. Besides, there’s no time.”
The demons bounded out over the smoking pile of debris. Mist seeped from their skin, turning them into wraiths. Except that these wraiths had teeth and claws and were incredibly pissed off.
There were at least twice as many as before. Even with Liam’s team, they were outnumbered by at least three to one. The eight Blades fanned out, keeping their new human allies behind them. Max found herself flanked by Simon and Nami.
“Watch the talons—they’re poisonous. And the mist is a weapon, too,” she warned. “Shot shells will slow them down. So will blowing off their heads.”
Both nodded, faces intent. Gone was Simon’s smartass attitude. He was all business. He was holding a .45. Nami’s expression was predatory and ruthless. She had drawn her pistol-grip shotgun. Max’s had been destroyed by the flood of acid goo when the birthing sac exploded.
Max slid her sword into her belt and pulled out her .45. As the demons landed outside the charred woodpile, she started shooting. She aimed quickly, snapping off shots with accuracy born from years of practice. Her .45 was loaded with hollow-points. Each bullet went through a demon’s head, taking its brain and half its skull with it. Nami’s shotgun took off entire heads. Behind her, Liam’s men shot, and their aim was nearly as deadly.
But even so, the demons were hardly fazed. They staggered about for a few seconds as blobs of flesh oozed up from their bodies and repaired their wounds. Within a minute, they were coming again, and this time, shooting them did less damage. They became almost elastic, the bullets passing through their flesh with minimal effect. Anything that lodged within was soon squeezed out, along with more of the oozing puslike liquid that slicked their skin. Max wondered if their new regenerative ability had come from the addition of the baby demon bits.
The milky mist they were manufacturing didn’t just hug the ground anymore, but it reached out in ghostly fingers and attacked the small group of defenders. Its potency had increased, too, and Max’s skin bubbled and blistered the moment it touched her. Breathing it was like sucking in mustard gas. Instantly, her mouth, nose, throat, and lungs turned into raw hamburger. She fell back a few steps to get away from the tendrils reaching for her, but they followed tenaciously.
All around her, she heard wet, choking coughs. She retreated a few more steps. “Fall back!” she called, but it came out more like a whisper. Her Blades heard, though, and began a slow retreat. She kept slightly forward, chopping at the demons with her sword. The mist brushed her eyes. It felt like an army of fire ants was chewing at her eyeballs. They blistered, and her vision blurred into a gray haze.
Talons raked her scalp and then her hip and thigh. Poison burned in the wounds. She spun away and ran into one of Liam’s men. She shoved him ahead of her. “Back!” she rasped.
He grabbed her vest and yanked her after him, all the while firing at the demons following behind.
The next few minutes were a nightmare. Max outdistanced the mist long enough to gain her vision back but then plunged back in to drag out Jody, who’d fallen. Simon stood protectively over her, jabbing blindly at the demons w
ith a pair of combat knives.
Holding her breath, Max hoisted Jody by her collar and grabbed Simon’s bloody shirt. “C’mon,” she said, and hauled them both back.
“Get to the creek!” she hollered, and then leaped to head off a trio of demons who’d homed in on one of Liam’s soldiers. She slashed at their legs and kicked at their chests. They careened together. A split second later, they sorted themselves out and lunged at Max. Swinging with short, hard chops, she hacked them apart with brutal efficiency, just in time for the mist to steal her vision again.
She dropped back to heal her eyes and then dove in again. It became a kind of odd rhythm, with her Blades tag-teaming as they all slowly worked their way to the relative safety of the creek.
Once there, Max halted on the bank. Four of Liam’s men stood in the middle, firing back the way they’d come. Jody lay on the far side, her body twitching uncontrollably. Simon stood over her, hands on his knees as he panted raggedly. Blood streamed from his wounds and ran down his nose and chin.
A wedge of demons had cut between them and the rest of her Blades, blocking them from the safety of the creek. Liam and one of his men stood with him. The other two of his men sprawled a dozen yards away, demons ripping hungrily at their flesh.
There was no way the small group was going to get through the demons without losing someone else. They were nearly surrounded. Liam and his man were a liability. Without them to protect, her Blades might fight free. Max didn’t think. She jammed her sword into its sheath. Using the angel feather embedded in her palm, she leaped into the air, vaulting over the swarming mass of demons.
She landed behind Liam and his remaining soldier. “I’m taking them,” she told Tyler, and then grabbed each of them by the arm. “Get the hell over to the creek.”
With that, she dove deep inside herself and into the abyss between worlds. It wasn’t easy. She was exhausted, and her body screamed with agony. Her healing spells were working overtime, and she didn’t have the energy to spare to haul herself through the abyss, much less two passengers. Still, there was no choice. She wasn’t going to let them become demon food.
Traveling through the abyss was one of her unique talents. She wasn’t sure there was anybody else in the world who could do it, and she had no idea why she could. It wasn’t easy. It was like putting herself through a meat grinder. It was agony. She ignored it. Pain was just motivation.
Blood Winter Page 10
