Protect the children.
Retrieving his weapons, he straightened and faced Gershom. There was no way in hell he could beat the Other in a fight, but he would damned well give his life trying if it would buy Seth enough time to get back here and save everyone.
Ethan tensed, preparing to lunge forward.
David abruptly rose up behind Gershom. Blood coated half of his face and trailed from ghastly exit wounds on the side of his head as he drove a sword through Gershom’s back.
Gershom’s eyes widened with shock as pain contorted his features. The tip of David’s sword emerged from Gershom’s chest and twisted sharply.
“Get the children to safety!” David roared, then drove his other sword into Gershom’s back. The tip of this one passed through Gershom’s heart and exited his chest.
Ethan sheathed his weapons in a blink and raced for the children. Hands shaking, he gathered Michael’s limp little body up in one arm and tucked a screaming Adira against his chest with the other. As soon as he was certain he had a secure hold on both, he raced for the door.
Long swords appeared in Gershom’s hands as he swung around with a roar, David’s blades still embedded in his body.
David drew two more.
Ethan burst through the front door, tears blurring his vision. Every cell in his body urged him to go back for Heather, not to leave her at Gershom’s mercy. But she’d made him promise. She’d made him swear to protect Adira and Michael. And he would honor that promise even if it killed him.
Shicks and tings reverberated from the house as David and Gershom engaged in a vicious battle.
Ethan sped toward the barn, relieved to see the sun was dipping below the horizon and wouldn’t scald his skin. Darkness engulfed him as he ducked inside, but his preternatural vision enabled him to clearly see the many vehicles parked within. He was only a century old and would never be able to outrun Gershom. Bypassing the cars, he stopped beside a tarp. A quick yank on the soft material unveiled David’s beloved Tomahawk motorcycle, a monster of a machine with two closely spaced wheels in front and two more in back.
Adira continued to cry disconsolately.
“Shhhh,” he whispered. It broke his heart when she instantly clamped her little pink lips together and tried to stifle her sobs. No child so young should have learned to respond to that command.
As swiftly as he could, Ethan cradled both children against him with one arm and awkwardly wound the tarp around himself with the other to bind both close to his chest in a sling of sorts. Climbing onto the back of the bike, he started the engine and tore out of the barn. Down the long driveway he flew. The security gate swung open at his approach and let him pass without slowing. Then he swung onto a narrow two-lane highway. With no cars in sight, Ethan shot forward. His adrenaline levels spiked as he increased his speed as much as he dared, barely managing to stay on the blacktop as he took one curve after another too fast, his knee damned near scraping the pavement, until he reached a major freeway.
Darting through traffic at the signal light, he turned onto the feeder road, entered the wide, straight freeway, and sped forward. A hundred miles per hour. Two hundred miles per hour. Three hundred miles per hour when he reached a long straight strip. Slowing only when he absolutely had to.
Darkness descended, providing him with a little cover as he passed other drivers as if they stood still. Wind whipped him, trying to pluck him from the back of the sleek vehicle. Little Michael remained motionless against his chest. Adira fisted her hands in his shirt and whimpered.
Come on, Seth, he silently chanted, wishing yet again that he were telepathic and could call the powerful leader to his side. But he had to use his phone to do it and didn’t dare stop until he placed more distance between the children and Gershom.
He swerved to avoid slamming into the back of a truck as he flew over a rise. Heart racing, scared shitless by the close call, he reduced his speed a bit. When he topped another rise, he swore foully. A sea of brake lights shone in the distance, the flashing lights of an ambulance in their midst.
Slowing even more, he weaved in and out of decelerating traffic and exited the freeway. The feeder road bore only a little less traffic, so he swung right at the first street he came to and tore away again.
Sleep! Gershom’s deep voice bellowed in his head.
Shit! How close was he?
Ethan picked up his speed even more. No streetlights illuminated the dark country road, nor did traffic clog it.
Gershom abruptly appeared on the asphalt in front of him and threw out a hand.
Ethan swore as the Tomahawk suddenly braked at the ancient immortal’s telekinetic command. The nose froze in place while the rear kept going, tossing Ethan forward like a fucking catapult. Ground and sky repeatedly switched positions as he flew through the air. Dipping his head, Ethan wrapped his arms around the bundle on his chest and brought up his knees to protect the children. Pain crashed through him as he struck the pavement, rolling and skidding several yards. Ribs broke. A kneecap shattered. A bone in one arm snapped. The fabric of his coat tore open, allowing the rough pavement to scrape away skin. His head struck something hard. Sparkling lights clouded his vision like fireworks. Then, at last, he skidded to a halt.
The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Groaning, Ethan shifted his hands and slid them over the bundle on his chest. Had he succeeded in protecting the children?
“Adira,” he whispered breathlessly.
The bundle shifted. A sniffle sounded. “Unca Eefan?”
Tears of relief filled his eyes. “You okay, honey?”
“Uh-huh,” she replied mournfully.
Then Michael shifted beside her, emerging from whatever thrall Gershom had placed him under.
Gritting his teeth against the agony every movement spawned, Ethan drew a dagger from his tattered coat and carefully sliced open the makeshift sling. A moan escaped him as he rolled onto his side and gently dumped the children onto the pavement.
Both little ones sat up. Michael blinked groggily and peered around him. Adira regarded Ethan with big green eyes full of fear and tears. Her little nose was red. Her cheeks glistened.
Ethan tilted his head back and looked up the road.
Gershom strolled toward them as if he had all the time in the world.
At least he tried to. A heavy limp hindered Gershom’s ordinarily smooth gait. Blood streaked his bare chest, which bore numerous deep gashes and puncture wounds. One of his dark wings was folded in against his back. The other dragged on the ground behind him, leaving a trail of translucent feathers. His face was a mask of rage and pain. His eyes glowed bright gold.
Ethan rose onto one elbow and looked at the children. “Run,” he wheezed. “Hide. Uncle Ethan will find you when it’s safe.”
Both looked terrified.
“Now,” he commanded. “Go.”
Adira grabbed Michael’s hand and rose, pulling him up. As soon as both were standing, they took off running in that awkward manner of toddlers, toward the dark trees on the side of the road.
Ethan spat blood and drew his good knee up under him. He wasn’t sure how he managed it, but somehow he made it to his feet. Or foot. He couldn’t put any weight on the leg with the shattered kneecap.
Gershom continued to limp toward him, a warped smile twisting his lips. But his breath emerged in rough gasps. “Still trying to play the hero?” he drawled. Gershom started to stretch his large dark wings out to intimidate him but ended up grunting in pain.
Yeah. His wings were all jacked up. David had really kicked his ass.
Ethan swallowed. Had Gershom killed David?
Reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone, he instead found only shattered pieces of it. He drew two short swords, grateful that neither had broken or impaled him when he’d crashed.
Every movement birthed greater agony. His head spun. The virus that infected him struggled to make repairs, but the damage was so great it could do little more than stop the bleedin
g.
Gershom’s smile grew when he stood only a few feet away. He motioned to the forest in which the children hid. “There are two donors from whom you can siphon enough blood to heal your wounds. I’d be happy to wait while you partake and bleed them dry.”
Protect the children. Whatever the cost, protect the children.
Repeating the mantra in his head, Ethan lunged forward.
Gershom’s face twisted in a snarl of malice as he raised his own sword and swung.
Seth teleported to David’s home, followed swiftly by Zach.
Terror struck. Bodies sprawled on the floor of the living room. Too few bodies. It took only seconds to realize every man and woman down was either human or a gifted one. Not one immortal remained, nor did Leah, Ami, Adira, or Michael.
Zach cast him a look of panic. “Lisette!” he bellowed.
Seth moved forward. Where he should have heard a multitude of heartbeats, he only heard a few. “David!”
No answers came.
Zach blurred as he sped through the hallway and down to the basement. “Lisette!”
The metallic scent of blood hung in the air. Some of the furniture was overturned.
Seth knelt beside Sheldon and Tracy. Sheldon lay partially atop Tracy as though he had tried to shield her from something. Neither displayed any obvious wounds, but blood trickled from their noses and ears.
“Sheldon.” Seth gave his shoulder a shake.
Nothing.
When Seth peeled back an eyelid, Sheldon’s pupil failed to react. A quick scan of his health drew a curse from Seth’s lips. Sheldon had suffered a traumatic brain injury and had sunk into a coma. Seth touched Tracy and discovered the same. What the hell had Gershom done?
Palming his phone, he dialed Chris Reordon.
“Jared just arrived with the immortals you rescued,” Chris announced, bypassing a greeting. “I’ll get them settled as quickly as I can.”
“Gershom attacked David’s home while we were gone. The Immortal Guardians who were here are all missing. The children, Ami, and Leah are, too.”
Chris swore.
“Susan and the Seconds left behind are alive but comatose. All appear to have suffered traumatic brain injuries. Contact the other network heads and have them send you the most powerful immortal healers in their domain.”
“All of them?”
“All of them. I need to track Gershom and can’t afford the time I would lose healing the Seconds. Nor can I afford to lose the energy such would require. I’ll summon some teleporters to bring them to network headquarters.”
“All right. I’m on it. Anything else you need, let me know.”
Zach returned, his eyes glowing bright gold. “They’re all gone. There’s no one here. I even checked the escape tunnels.”
Seth mentally reached out to David, Ami, Adira, Aidan, Étienne, Lisette. Heather. “None of the telepaths are responding. And I can’t sense them.” He rose. “I can’t sense any of them.” The ground beneath his feet began to vibrate as he sought to keep his emotions under control.
Zach swallowed hard. “Are they… are they dead? Is Lisette dead, Seth? I can’t feel her. I can’t touch her mind.” And Zach always touched her mind when he wasn’t distracted by battle. His eyes glimmered with moisture. “There would be no bodies left behind if Gershom slew them. If you can’t feel them…”
Seth shook his head. “Look around you. The immortals’ clothing would remain, as would their weapons if he’d slain them. And Leah, Ami, Adira, and Michael are mortal. Their bodies wouldn’t deteriorate like an immortal’s would. Gershom didn’t kill them, Zach. He took them.” A familiar scent reached him. Striding past Sheldon, Seth dropped to his haunches near a wingback chair. Blood pooled on the floor beside it. “This is David’s blood.”
Zach joined him, his face grim. “That’s not brain, is it?”
Seth hoped like hell it wasn’t, but long dreadlocks coiled around the small bits of flesh. He spun, studying the floor. “Gershom’s blood intermingles with it.” Following the red blotches on the floor, he tracked them through the front door. Whatever wounds David had suffered had not kept him from fighting. The smears left by boots and the damage near the doorway whispered of a very violent battle.
Once outside, Seth scanned every blade of grass in the deepening darkness, searching for more drops of blood or anything else that might guide him.
Wind whipped him, carrying away scents that might have helped as clouds gathered overhead.
Grinding his teeth, he fought the fear and fury that threatened to consume him.
Gershom had Leah and Ami. He had Adira.
A faint thump reached his ears from the direction of the barn—the single, struggling beat of a damaged heart.
His head jerked toward the sound.
Zach’s did, too.
Both raced toward it.
David lay on the ground just in front of the barn’s entrance.
Seth nearly wept with relief. He’d known David would fight Gershom to the death to protect the others and had feared…
One side of David’s head bore three circular wounds where bullets had entered. The other side was a mass of blood and mangled flesh. A fistful of dreadlocks was missing, torn away by the projectiles’ exit.
“No wonder he didn’t answer me,” Seth murmured, rolling David onto his back.
David’s hands continued to clutch two swords, never relinquishing their grip.
Seth placed one hand on David’s head and the other on his chest. Healing warmth spread from his limbs into David, going first to the head wound.
“He needs blood,” he announced as Zach headed into the barn to search it. “I’m going to summon some Immortal Guardians to provide it, so don’t kill them when they appear.”
Zach grunted an acknowledgment.
Rafe, Seth called telepathically.
Yes?
Come to me at once. I’m at David’s home in North Carolina.
Eliana is with me. Should I bring her or leave her?
Bring her.
Zach returned. “No one is in the barn. And David’s Tomahawk is missing.”
Vicente, Seth called mentally as he continued to heal David as best he could. Brain damage was tricky and should be healed at a much slower pace.
Yes?
Come to me. I’m at David’s home in North Carolina.
Mattheus is with me. Immortals worldwide were currently under orders to hunt in pairs.
Bring him, too. Now.
Two heartbeats suddenly joined their own. Then two more. Curses erupted inside the house.
“By the barn,” Seth told them.
Grass crunched as the four immortals joined them.
“Oh no,” Eliana murmured. Kneeling on David’s other side, she curled her hands into fists and rested them on her thighs as she stared down at him.
“He’ll survive,” Seth told her and withdrew his hands. “Give him your blood.” He touched David’s jaw. David’s lips parted as his fangs descended.
Eliana didn’t hesitate to shove her sleeve up and press her wrist to David’s lips. She winced when she applied enough pressure for his fangs to sink into her flesh, then relaxed as his fangs carried her blood directly to his veins. She drew the fingers of her free hand over David’s dreadlocks. “What happened?”
Seth ground his teeth. “Gershom attacked while Zach, Jared, and I were rescuing the missing immortals.” He glanced up. “Zach, bring me Imhotep. He and Chaak are guarding the network.”
Zach vanished.
The other three immortals stood sentinel around Seth, David, and Eliana, weapons in hand as they darted David looks of concern. When Eliana paled and began to sway, Seth gently drew her wrist away from David. “Mattheus, you’re next.”
Mattheus knelt and pressed his wrist to David’s lips.
Zach reappeared with Imhotep.
Seth caught Imhotep’s eye. “Tell me what happened. It began in the house.”
The powerful e
lder immortal dipped his chin in an abrupt nod and sped away.
Vicente offered his wrist next. The fact that David required so much blood was indicative of the damage done to his brain and body. David was nearly as old as Seth and had incredible regenerative capabilities. A single gunshot to the brain would’ve only slowed him down. But three gunshots followed by whatever the hell else Gershom had done…
When Rafe would’ve offered his wrist, too, Seth held up a hand. “He’s coming around. Everyone step back.”
They barely had time to do so before David’s eyes opened and flashed brilliant amber. Roaring in rage, he leapt to his feet, swords at the ready.
The other immortals all hastily gave him room.
“David.” Seth spoke calmly.
David spun to face him as Imhotep sped past and disappeared into the barn. “Seth.” Blinking, he looked around. “Where are Ami and the children? Where’s Leah?”
“Gone,” Seth told him. When grief filled David’s eyes, Seth hastily held up a hand. “Not dead. Missing. Did you kill Gershom?”
“No. But I came damned close.” His brow furrowed as he looked around. “At least I think I did.” His thoughts were likely still scattered by the gunshot wounds, the way Seth’s had been.
Zach stepped forward. “What happened? Where are the other immortals?”
David looked at Seth with alarm. “They aren’t inside?”
Seth shook his head. “We believe Gershom took them. Do you remember what happened?” Seth hadn’t had time to heal all of the damage the bullets had wrought. The virus would have to take care of the rest while Seth conserved his energy.
David sheathed his weapons. “Gershom teleported in and shot me in the head three times. I think I lost consciousness for a moment. When I awoke, everyone except Ethan and Adira were down.”
Imhotep joined them. “As soon as Gershom shot David, he commanded the others to sleep.”
Zach frowned. “Didn’t they fight him? How the hell did he manage to touch every one of them and—?”
“He didn’t touch them,” Imhotep clarified. “He just bellowed the word sleep and everyone except Ethan and Adira lapsed into unconsciousness.”
Zach stared at Seth in astonishment. “How the hell did he do that?”
Death of Darkness Page 41