“He means this to be a fight to the death, Ry.”
“Then it shall be his death, Quinchu.”
Christopher had hoped to avoid this kind of challenge. It was why he had left the clan, taking his followers with him. His father was still a young man, barely past the start of his last triad with much life left to him. At least another fifty to sixty years.
But no longer, if his father insisted on going through with this confrontation. Christopher had too much to live for to allow his father to steal his vitality.
Alexander raised his hands and seemed to be summoning the skies above him. A glow erupted at his palms, but instead of creating deadly orbs of power, with a wave of his hands he sent the energy across the skies, creating a shield that extended from his men up to the rear of the house.
While shields such as this one were normally used to hide Hunter activities from prying human eyes, this shield was different. He could tell from the shimmer of the energy threads along the field. This barrier would not only hide, but also make it harder for anyone to escape the battle. It was much like the grounding line tethering Maya, and any Hunters coming in contact with the shield would lose a bit of their power. Power that would be funneled back to the creator of the defense. Only a huge explosion of power could break such a force field, risking both the creator and the person attacking the barrier.
But his father, lazy as always, had failed to consider one thing—Alexander had left the back portion of the shield sitting along knee-deep water.
Christopher intended to capitalize on that.
Although Ryan was urging him inside, Christopher broke free of his friend and raised his hands. He shot out lines of energy to the water behind his father’s men and became one with the liquid that was his affinity. With a jerk of his hands, he whipped up the waves and pulled them forward, sending a low tidal surge toward the rear of the phalanx. The force of the waves he created sent a number of men tumbling against the Hunters in front of them, who struggled to maintain their footing.
Like a conductor directing an orchestra, Christopher moved his arms and sent the waves rolling back and forth, then sideways, unsettling even more of his father’s men, but in his core he experienced the drain on his life force. It was taking too much energy to manipulate such a large body of water.
He broke the connection, intending to recover the vitality at his core, and in that instant, a mortar of energy landed barely a foot away, driving him backward and creating a wide crater in the lawn in front of him.
Ryan and another of his cadre members leaped to his defense, offering protection as one of his father’s warriors lobbed another orb of power toward him.
“Get inside, Christopher. You’re our last line of defense for the women and children,” Ryan pleaded, backing him up toward the house as he kept up a defensive posture, conserving his energy.
Alexander’s men were still battling the shifting waters Christopher had created along the sand, but they were able to shoot off-balance shots of energy. His cadre members were holding their ground, knowing that it was imperative for them to keep their positions.
“Force them to waste their power before you attack,” he instructed Ryan, and backpedaled toward the house, not that he intended to be sidelined inside the structure. But as long as Ryan believed he was there, his friend would fight more efficiently without worrying about his well-being.
Christopher pivoted and raced for the house, aiming for one of his cadre members. When he reached the man, he commanded, “Go help Ryan.”
Once the man had charged forward, Christopher took his position on the highest spot of ground close to the house and surveyed the battlefield. His father was still maintaining the shield, apparently hoping to prevent the retreat of Christopher and his people from the area. Of the three dozen or so Hunters who had appeared on the shoreline, at least four had either been swept away or sucked into the slurry of sand created by the pull of the waters.
The rest had managed to restore their formation. As the front of the phalanx trudged through the last of the ocean’s wash, they gained a foothold on the beachfront. The first line of the formation dropped to their knees and directed fire on the dunes to either side of the house, landing damaging blasts where his cadre members had assumed defensive positions. The second row of the phalanx lobbed large balls of energy toward the house, and although the distance prevented much accuracy, the rounds nevertheless did damage as they landed.
The balls gouged huge holes in the lawn and smashed against the house, breaking through wood and plaster.
From a position high up on one of the balconies, one of his more powerful cadre members took out two Hunters in the front row with dead-on blasts of power. But barely a heartbeat later the balcony exploded, showering those below with bits of house and the Hunter as he fell to the lawn, badly wounded.
Christopher needed to get closer to cause the most damage. He raced toward the dunes along one side of the house, dragging forth orbs of energy as he moved. When he was closer he fired a wide swath of power at the front row. The shot caught two of the Hunters mid-body and they lit up like Roman candles before disappearing in a cloud of smoke. The pyrotechnics disrupted the phalanx, sending Hunters running in every direction which helped his cadre members. With the formation broken, his warriors were able to pick off a few of Alexander’s men.
From the side of his eye he caught a glimpse of light streaking toward him. He dropped to the ground and rolled, and then tasted dirt as the shot tore into the ground and he breathed in the debris. Before another Hunter could target him, he came up running for the safety of the nearby dunes. Once there, he directed his energy at the small gap of ground that still separated Alexander’s warriors and his people, who had retreated toward the house.
Calling forth the waters beneath the lawn and sand into that too-narrow gap of land, he watched the first of his father’s men sink ankle deep into mud and wet sand.
When the man hesitated, standing upright to pull his feet out from the muck, a blast from Ryan sent the man to the ground, his body jerking as the energy short-circuited his system. Ryan was not using fatal energy, only enough to take the warriors out of the battle, which allowed him to conserve his power.
His cadre members likewise took out two other Hunters, but in agony Christopher watched as a like number of his men fell, gravely injured. Alexander’s men clearly did not intend to take any prisoners.
Even though Alexander’s warriors had been slowed by the sloppy ground, they continued firing at his clan and the house. As one blast landed perilously close, Ryan dropped back toward the house with Matt, another of his cadre members. They fired alternating blasts, providing cover for each other as they sought better positions.
Christopher rose to the top of the dune to protect his warriors. He fired down on some of the men who had been delayed by the mud he had created.
As Alexander realized that it was him on the dune, he called out to his men, “Get him. Up on the ridge.”
The Hunters turned their attention to him and Christopher barely managed to race ahead of the blasts as they tore up the ground behind him. He kept on speeding forward, working his way toward his father, intending to take him down in the hope that Alexander’s men would either retreat or double back to protect their Añaru.
But as he neared, he heard a pained cry.
Ryan’s voice.
He turned to see Ryan stumbling toward the house, holding his side. A second shot skimmed past his leg, but it was enough to drop him. His friend lay on the ground, his body jerking from the power shorting out his Hunter pathways.
Damn it, he thought, torn between friendship and duty. He should press forward to confront Alexander, but he wanted to help Ryan. As a blast tore into the side of the house and he heard the screams of his people within, there was only one decision he could make in order to protect them.
He raced forward, opening fire on his father, but Alexander had been surrounded by a trio of men who formed a prote
ctive barrier around their Añaru. They swiveled in his direction and shot at him.
As a blast landed dangerously close, Christopher rolled down the edge of the ridge, sending sand flying as he pushed to his feet at the base. But when he did so, he saw another wave of Hunters materializing along the shoreline. A dozen or more.
His heart sank. He and his small band of people could never hold off more warriors.
All was lost, he thought, as he sought out cover from the death raining down upon them.
CHAPTER
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Victoria and her people paused about ten yards from Christopher’s compound, sensing the battle going on beyond the shield someone had erected to hide the confrontation. Even with the barrier, she picked up on the energy being expended as salvo after salvo rocked the night. Too many blasts which meant there were quite a number of Hunters fighting beneath the protection of the energy field, she thought.
But the sounds of battle at least gave her hope that they had not arrived too late to assist Christopher and his people.
Pointing to the edge of the shield, she said, “Into the water. We may be able to go beneath the barrier and come up on the sand.”
Victoria in the lead shot out a vortex of energy and parted the waves, allowing them speedy passage through the shallow waters until they were nearly at the lip of the barrier. Whoever had crafted it had been inconsistent, drawing the protective lines only along the surface, as she had hoped. Diving into the water, she surfaced on the other side and once again cleared the way for her people with another whirlpool to part the waters.
Pain tightened her gut as she noted the damage to the home and the bodies lying on the sands and lawn. So many bodies. Fear gripped her that Christopher might be amongst them. But then a familiar silhouette rose at the top of one of the dunes.
Christopher, she thought, and relief flooded through her.
He directed a shot at someone across the way before a blast came wickedly close to him and he rolled down the dune to safety.
Christopher was alive, she thought once more and allowed herself no more time for relief. They had to engage the Shadows in order to put an end to the fight.
The newly arrived Shadow Hunters moved forward, and Christopher had to retreat toward the house to get his people to safety. He had to give them time to try to escape while he kept this new group at bay.
Stumbling to his feet, he sprinted for the house, but as he did so, he caught a glimpse of one of the Hunters who had just emerged from the water. A familiar face snared his attention. Not that of a Shadow Hunter, but one of Victoria’s people.
The hesitation, slight as it was, cost him. One of his father’s men grabbed him, jolted him with a surge of power that weakened his knees, but energized by the appearance of Victoria’s people, he tossed the man off. He turned and incapacitated the man with one bolt.
With a volley of power orbs, Victoria’s cadre members took out at least half a dozen of Alexander’s men, freeing Christopher to race to the top edge of the manicured lawn above the beachfront. While he appreciated that Victoria had sent her people to help, he had to make sure she was safe.
But as he quickly scanned the Light Ones fighting along the shore, it was evident she was not in the mix of fighters.
Focusing on his father, he fired and took out one of the men in the barrier before him. A blast from one of Victoria’s people downed a second man.
His father appreciated that the tide had turned as the Light Ones spread out along the periphery, flanking the Shadows on one side and heading toward his father on the other.
Before Alexander could be surrounded, he rushed forward toward the house, picking up a protective contingent as he did so, regrouping what was left of his forces as they headed toward the one possible area for exit along the far side of the building now that Victoria’s people had control of the beachfront and sides of the compound.
From beside him a Light Hunter female raced by, firing at the Shadows. Catalina, he thought, remembering the young widow from their earlier meeting. She was fearless as she charged ahead, driving the Shadows back by firing round after round with surprising strength and effectiveness.
As Alexander and his men reached the balcony doors at the back of the house, Catalina shouted out instructions to the Light Hunters along the lawn, who had either contained or eliminated what was left of his father’s warriors.
It was then he realized Victoria’s deception since there was no disguising her voice.
He rushed up to her and pushed her behind the safety of his body.
“Damn it, Victoria. What were you thinking?”
Alexander and his Dark Ones shot a hole through the wall of the house, seeking temporary shelter. “Secure the entrance,” he shouted to his men. With two of his Hunters in the lead, they ducked into the house and hit an empty hallway.
Not surprising since Christopher needed all of his people in the fight and not hiding like children in the house. But finding the children would be a boon, since they could be used as hostages. Opening the door to the next room along the hall, shock hit him as he realized Maya was bound on the bed and slowly losing energy through a grounding line.
By the foot of her bed was Ryan, his body jerking spasmodically, nearly unconscious from a hit he had taken.
As Alexander strode toward him, Ryan lifted his hand and a feeble circle of light formed in his palm, but faded as Ryan’s energy ebbed. He sagged back down, too weak from his wounds to do anything to protect himself.
Alexander chuckled and met Ryan’s gaze, delighting in the fear he saw there and wishing Ryan would plead just to make it totally rewarding, but he didn’t. Ryan had bravely steeled himself for the inevitable.
Alexander raised his hand, ready to finish off his son’s cadre captain. Maybe he hadn’t been able to kill Christopher, but Ryan’s death would wound his son deeply, and that was almost as rewarding.
“Don’t, Añaru,” Maya pleaded as she picked up her head and a wave of power traveled from her body down the line, the movement causing her to moan with fear.
“Why not, my dear?” he asked, and then instructed one of his men to free her.
“The source of power you seek is Adam Bruno. Ryan knows where Bruno can be found,” Maya advised after she had been freed.
She grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around her naked body. “Christopher and Ryan met with him and a female Quinchu. Ryan can lead you to Bruno.”
The room shook as an energy blast rocked the wall by the balcony doors and his men returned fire.
“We must move out. Grab this piece of scum,” he said, and shot a violent kick at Ryan’s side, but the downed man didn’t budge. He had passed out sometime during Maya’s pleading.
Two of his men grabbed Ryan and the remainder formed a V around him and Maya, who stumbled, clearly weak from the grounding. Alexander supported her and they surged forward, shooting off blast after blast to rip their way through the house, taking down anything in their path, all thoughts of taking hostages forgotten with the promise of Bruno’s energy now the focus.
As they emerged onto the front driveway of the home, they were clear of all of Christopher’s men and the Light Hunters who had come to their assistance. Now they had to get to somewhere safe where he could question Ryan, Alexander thought.
Although his compound was only miles away, that would be the first place that Christopher would look. He needed somewhere else to go, and he remembered the perfect location. With some shielding, they would be safe there for a little while, and that was all it would take to get the information he needed from Ryan.
Once he had that, he would personally drop Ryan’s dead body on Christopher’s doorstep.
CHAPTER
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Victoria wrapped her arms around him, reassured by the solidness of his body. Although Christopher was free of injury, the cries and moans of the wounded around them testified to what the defense of the compound had cost in terms of Hunter life.
Rel
easing her control over Catalina’s form, she bit back her own complaint of pain as bones and muscles shifted back to their normal positions. Her pain was minor compared to what had likely happened to the members of their cadres.
Pulling away from him, she cupped his face and noted the sorrow swimming in his dark gaze. “We must see to our people.”
He nodded and they separated, working together to bring the bodies of the dead and severely wounded up onto the lawn close to the house. Those with minor injuries also helped collect their fallen comrades.
From the waters they pulled two seemingly dead Shadows from Christopher’s father’s cadre. The dune and lawn areas yielded more dead and wounded from both the Shadow clans, over a dozen Hunters in total. Another two of Christopher’s clan had fallen within the home while attempting to stop Alexander’s retreat and protect the women and children.
Besides the dead or near dead, there were at least six more seriously injured, either hit by energy blasts that short-circuited their bodies or wounded by pieces of debris from explosions.
So many, she thought, and realized there might be too many to save. Both she and Christopher had expended too much energy during the battle to do much healing, but they tried anyway.
Victoria went first to those who would immediately expire without help, but who could be healed, unlike the near-dead Hunters from the surf and others who possessed only the barest trace of life force.
She kneeled by one Hunter whose body had been nearly sliced in half by pieces of wood and vinyl, likely from what had once been the balcony above him. He was bleeding badly, but conscious, leaning up against the back of the house as he pressed his hands against his midsection. As she touched his bloodied arm, he looked up at her, eyes pleading. Gently she eased away his hands to gauge the extent of his injuries.
The debris had bit deep, tearing open his abdominal wall. There were burn marks along his skin in various spots from where the energy orb had struck him and the building. His loss of energy was also causing the emergence of a rash along that area, a precursor to the pox pustules. That they hadn’t already formed was possible proof that remaining pure had done some good against the contagion.
The Claimed (Sin Hunters) Page 22