by Jamie Davis
“I don’t know where the paramedic is. He was supposed to show up tonight. Artur had sent him the address and told him to come.”
“Fine,” Celeste replied. “Tell us where you’re holding Jaz Errington.”
Felicity paused for a moment then shrugged. “She’s being held downstairs in the basement. I don’t think she’s still alive, though. Artur took his blade down to finish her off himself before the paramedic arrived.”
Celeste turned and looked at Brynne. “Go, find her and you’ll probably find Dean, too.”
Brynne started to leave but stopped when Felicity took advantage of Celeste’s turning to talk to Brynne and ran down the hallway. She disappeared into a room at the end of the passage.
“Don’t mind her, Brynne. I’ll track her down. You go and find Dean. He’s going to need you to stop him before he does something heroic and stupid.”
Brynne nodded and turned, racing down the stairs. She reached the bottom and stopped, trying to get her bearings and to figure out where the basement door might be located. She decided to find the kitchen. There was probably a basement door somewhere near there. She skirted the melee where Rudy and James were battling the bulk of Artur’s remaining minions and went in search of the kitchen.
She found the kitchen without any further encounters. The sound of the brawl in the main entry hall had drawn all potential attackers there. She tried all the doors off the kitchen and found the pantry and a door to the back yard but no stairs down to the basement. Moving down a side hallway, Brynne let her enhanced senses expand outward to try and hear or smell something that might indicate which way to go. That was when she caught the first whiff of human blood. It was fresh. She could tell. She sniffed the air again. It was coming from - that way.
Brynne moved down another hallway until she found a half-open door. She heard the sounds of clashing steel below her and again detected the unmistakable odor of fresh human blood. She fought down the predatory urge to charge down and drink from its source. Instead, she took the stairs down in slow, measured steps. This was all about self-control. If she tried to hurry, she’d be unable to control herself.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Brynne saw a furious battle of steel on steel as Jaz fended off a flurry of attacks from Artur. Jaz must have seen Brynne enter because she called out to her.
“Brynne, you have to help him. Dean. He’s over at the bar. He’s dying.”
That set Brynne’s mind into motion, and she scanned the room for a moment before she saw Dean’s crumpled form on the floor next to the built-in bar. That was where the blood smell was coming from, and she had to clamp down on her urges again to keep from rushing over and feeding. Forcing herself to walk, she crossed to where Dean lay on the floor. He was unconscious and had lost a lot of blood due to two vicious sword wounds in his legs. She battled again with her inner vampire nature for a moment before she was able to kneel down and set to examining his wounds in detail. One was worse than the other, but both were serious.
Thinking quickly, Brynne spotted the thick hemp ropes that had been used to secure someone, probably Jaz, to the bar. She grabbed a length of the rope and wrapped it around Dean’s upper thigh, fighting against the urge to drink from the fountain of blood that surged from his wound when she moved his leg. She tied a single loop in the rope and used her increased vampire strength to pull the ends of the rope tighter and tighter until the blood slowed to an oozing flow and then stopped entirely. She tied off the rope ends and repeated the same action with the other, less seriously wounded leg.
She checked to make sure the bleeding was indeed stopped before she continued checking Dean for other wounds. Not finding anything, she grabbed his wrist and checked for a pulse. She realized after she started feeling his thready, weak pulse that she could hear his heart beating, too. It was starting to slow down, a sign that the shock was taking over. He needed fluids, preferably blood, and a trauma center’s operating suite as soon as possible. Brynne took out her phone and started to dial nine-one-one to get help when she stopped and felt a tugging at her mind.
Before she could stop herself, Brynne put her phone on the floor next to Dean and stood up. She was looking at the ferocious display of sword fighting happening mere feet away from her. Something was tugging at her mind, compelling her to stop Jaz, to leap at her and take her sword away. Brynne shook her head and tried to clear her mind. She knew she should not interfere. She knew that attacking Jaz would almost ensure her death at the hands of Artur, but she couldn’t stop herself. Taking a few hesitant steps forward as she tried to resist, Brynne reached out for Jaz from behind.
Jaz must have noticed what she was doing and shouted at her, out of breath from the battle.
“Brynne, what are you doing?”
“I—can’t—stop—myself,” Brynne forced herself to speak. “He’s—in—control.”
Brynne felt another sudden urge, and she took a swing at Jaz’s head. The hunter ducked under the blow which allowed Artur to get past her guard and score a deep slash across her shoulder. Jaz let out a gasp at the pain. It didn’t slow her, though. The hunter appeared to redouble her attacks to push Artur away, so she was farther from Brynne’s advance. It didn’t matter. Brynne felt the command tugging at her mind, and she continued to move forward.
She saw something in the way Artur was holding himself as he fought. There was something in his off hand. She realized what it was. He was holding the relic, the Eldara finger there. As long as he did, he’d be able to command her to do his bidding. She was able to resist, sort of, probably because his attention was divided between her and the formidable sword skills of the hunter he was fighting.
“He’s—got—the—relic—in—his—hand,” Brynne managed to stammer as she continued to close in on Jaz. She knew once she was close enough, there’s be nothing Jaz could do, and then the hunter would die, either at her hands or Artur’s.
Jaz must have seen what she was talking about. In a move Brynne was surprised by as much as Artur, Jaz tucked and rolled in toward the vampire lord’s feet, springing upward and delivering a slashing blow to his free hand with her katana blade. With a spray of dark, almost black blood, Artur’s hand was cut free and spiraled across the room, the fingers releasing a long cylindrical object to fall free.
As soon as Jaz’s blade detached Artur’s hand, Brynne felt the compulsion leave her, and she fell to the floor as if puppet strings holding her aloft had been cut. Artur howled in pain and rage as he used the pommel of his sword to bring a crashing blow down on Jaz’s exposed head. The hunter crumpled to the floor at his feet. Artur was about to deliver a killing blow when James and Rudy leaped down the stairs. The rebel vampire lord snarled with rage and threw his sword at the two interlopers before he turned and raced down the hallway into the depths of the basement.
Rudy dodged the flying blade and then took off after Artur. James came over to check on Brynne and then Jaz. Brynne was getting her strength back, and she moved over to attend to Jaz as well. The hunter was bleeding from the blow to her head. James raised his arm to bar Brynne’s approach, but she pushed him aside.
“I’m fine. I can control myself,” Brynne assured James. “Let me look at her wounds.” She knelt down and started assessing the bleeding. It looked worse than it was. Heads always bled a lot. She was more concerned about an internal, closed head injury. Jaz needed a trauma center as much as Dean did.
“James, are things cleared out upstairs? We need to call them an ambulance right now.”
James nodded. “Rudy’s backup arrived, and we captured the remainder of Artur’s followers. Celeste is trying to track down the woman you two were following. She’s afraid she got away out a window.”
Brynne turned and went to grab her phone off the floor from where she dropped it next to Dean. Placing the nine-one-one call and waiting for the dispatcher to pick up, Brynne looked around. She felt a grim smile come across her face. For the first time in months, she felt like a paramedic again.
/> High above the mansion, Ingrid watched the scene below as her wings beat silently behind her, hovering in place. She tensed when she saw two figures leave the building within moments of each other. The first was a female vampire. She leaped from a second-story window to the ground below, crouched for a moment among the bushes and then started for the edge of the fenced-in grounds. A few seconds later, a male vampire left from the basement entrance and sprinted after the female.
Ingrid didn’t know who the female was, but the male was one she recognized the instant she saw him. She tensed and started to draw her sword. Her companion laid a hand on her wrist, stopping Ingrid with her sword half drawn.
“Why did you stop me, Gabriel? That’s Artur Torrence down there.” Ingrid pointed at the figure sprinting across the grounds towards freedom. “I’ve been hunting him for centuries. He’s responsible for banishing Ashley and the loss of countless lives. He might have even killed your son down there, for all you know.”
“My son is injured but will survive. I can sense his life-force, and it is strong. Besides, look, Artur is being pursued already.” The other Eldara pointed to a wolf-like figure bounding from the basement exit. The creature sniffed at the air for a moment then howled and took off after the fleeing vampire.
“Artur will elude the werewolf if given enough time. You must let me intervene.”
“No,” Gabriel ordered. “You must go and prepare the hall of heroes. This is the moment we’ve anticipated. The final battle is coming soon unless we can do something to stop it. I think I now know why I was sent here all those years ago to father a human child. He may be the key to preventing the impending Armageddon.”
“You think it is that close, just because of an isolated attack by a deranged vampire lord?” Ingrid asked. She was concerned. Ragnarok, or Armageddon, or whatever you called the end of the world, had always seemed so far away. To be told it was close by Gabriel, the trumpet bearer himself, was frightening.
“I think it is time for me to return to Dean Flynn’s life and tell him more about his father. There are things he needs to know, important things, that may help him stop Armageddon from coming.”
Ingrid watched as Gabriel flew off, gliding on his mighty wings. She spared one last glance in the direction in which Artur fled and turned in the air to follow. Soon the darkness swallowed both Eldara as they returned to their ethereal plane.
Epilogue
Dean got dressed and winced as he went to stand up. His legs were sore from all the physical therapy he’d been receiving since the surgery the previous month. He was pushing himself faster than the PT guys wanted him to but he wanted to get back to work and back on the ambulance. Despite the objections of his caregivers, the hard work had paid off. He was due to start back to work in two days. He was happy, as were all his friends. There was a celebration planned for tonight at the Nightwing Building penthouse to congratulate him on his recovery and also to welcome the new permanent night shift supervisor for Station U, Brynne Garvey.
“Jaz, honey, are you almost ready to head out?” Dean asked
Jaz came out of the bathroom, her head turned to one side, putting in a pair of diamond stud earrings. Dean watched, enjoying seeing her back on her feet, too. She’d been laid up with a concussion for two weeks until the after-effects started to fade. In the time of their combined convalescence, the two of them had gotten the downtime they needed to see each other on a more social basis, and it had paid off.
“Here, Dean, help me zip up.” She turned so he could pull up the zipper for her dress, a little black and red number that showed off her curves and athletic build. He pulled the zipper to the top, and she turned and delivered a quick kiss in thanks before going off to put on her shoes. Dean watched her as he grabbed his truck keys and wallet.
Dean checked his watch. “I know you don’t like to be late. We should be going.”
“I’m coming,” Jaz said as she grabbed her purse and her familiar leather jacket. Dean knew it contained numerous weapons. She never left the house unarmed, especially since Artur had evaded Rudy’s pursuit that night last month. He was out there, somewhere, planning some other way to bring them all down, Dean was sure.
As the two of them left Dean’s apartment over the Baxter’s garage, Jaz pointed to his white pickup truck.
“I know you want to keep your independence but there’s really no reason you need to drive that thing. I have a fleet of SUVs for use by the Errington security teams.”
“I don’t need a new truck,” Dean protested. He secretly wanted to drive one of the Errington SUVs, but his pride prevented him from taking her up on the offer.
“I’m going to keep offering,” Jaz said. “Eventually I’ll wear you down.”
“Maybe I just keep saying no so you’ll keep coming back to ask me,” Dean said with a broad grin as he held the truck’s door open for her.
“Careful what you wish for,” she smiled as she chided him and climbed into the passenger side of the truck.
Dean walked around to the driver’s side and thought about his life as it stood right now. Things were going pretty well, and he was excited about the direction things were headed in the future, too. He and Jaz were together, Brynne was coming back to work. Everything felt right again. It wasn’t the same, that was for sure, but it was back to normal and had even gotten better in many ways. He smiled at Jaz as he started the truck and drove off into the night to celebrate with the friends who’d become his family.
Go ahead and read book 7 in the series - The Paramedic’s Doom.
Plus, keep reading for a sneak peek at the spinoff book in the Eldara Sister series, Nightingale’s Angel.
Also by Jamie Davis
Get a free book and updates for new books.
visit JamieDavisBooks.com/send-free-book/
* * *
Extreme Medical Services Series
Book 1 - Extreme Medical Services
Book 2 - The Paramedic’s Angel
Book 3 - The Paramedic’s Choice
Book 4 - The Paramedic’s Hunter
Book 5 - The Paramedic’s Witch
Book 6 - The Paramedic’s Nemesis
Book 7 - The Paramedic’s Doom
—
Eldara Sister Series
The Nightingale’s Angel
Blue and Gray Angel
—
The Broken Throne Series
The Charm Runner
Prophecy’s Child
The Queen of Avalon
Stolen Destiny
The Mended Throne
—
The Accidental Traveler LitRPG Series
(with C.J. Davis)
The Accidental Thief
Accidental Warrior
The Accidental Mage
—
Accidental Champion Series
(with C.J. Davis)
Accidental Duelist
Accidental Raider
Book 3 coming Fall 2018
—
Follow on Facebook for updates, news, and upcoming book excerpts
Facebook.com/jamiedavisbooks
The Nightingale’s Angel - Chapter 1
* * *
Ingrid banked and swooped lower over the field of battle, the wind sweeping past her wings lifting her up as she soared. The Valkyrie sought a particular individual on the British side at the Battle of Inkerman, a man who had served with honor and bravery. He made the ultimate sacrifice by leaping into a desperate struggle between a comrade and a pair of advancing Russian soldiers. His action had saved his friend’s life but had exposed him to the advancing bayonets of the enemy. He had perished but had also accomplished his goal: to save his friend’s life. The Valkyrie’s wings flared as she alighted on the ground next to a shimmering figure standing next to a fallen soldier. He looked to his left as she approached, but his expression of sorrow did not change as he looked back down at the body at his feet.
It was late evening over the battlefield at Inkerman. The field betw
een Shell Hill on the Russian side of the lines and Home Ridge, where the British 2nd Division held their lines, was littered with dead and wounded as the evening fog began to settle after a day of hard fighting. Ingrid thought the view spectacular as she soared over the carnage. Many men had distinguished themselves that day, earning themselves a place of honor in the afterlife. Some called their next life Valhalla, others Heaven, still others final enlightenment. It was a place where those who distinguished themselves during life found themselves escorted to at the end of their days.
“Corporal Calvin Smith,” Ingrid began, her voice low but heard over the raucous calls of the carrion birds. Your service today was noticed.”
The young British corporal looked over at her. “I don’t see Cawley’s body here. The last I remember I saw him driven to his knees before two Russian soldiers. I tried to stop them from slaying him. Did I succeed?”
“You did, Calvin,” Ingrid replied. “David Cawley will grow old and die surrounded by a wife, children, and grandchildren after a long and fruitful life. He will name his eldest child after you. He will tell everyone who will listen about you, the man who saved his life here at Inkerman Field.”
“And I?” The soldier’s shade asked looking her way again.
“You will sit at a table of honor in my Father’s house reserved for all those who served their armies honorably in battle. There you will await the day of final battle when you will be called upon to serve with your new comrades to defend the light against the darkness.”
Ingrid watched as he thought on that for a moment and then gave a nod of affirmation. She invoked her one of her runic tattoos and opened a portal there before the shade. The doorway to Valhalla began as a pinpoint of light that expanded outward to form a perfect circle nearly seven feet across. Ingrid felt the light and warmth from the other side, and she knew that even the incorporeal shade could sense it too.