I tried to angle my double blades in such a way that they would cut the jungle plants, but the vegetation increased the pressure and two more vines snapped around my feet. I was a fly caught in a spider’s web, and I didn’t see any way to get out of it. My breath came in rapid gasps.
I wanted to scream with frustration, but my compressed windpipe only managed a raspy gurgle.
“Don’t waste your strength,” a seductive voice whispered in my ear. “One man is no match for a whole island.”
The jungle swirled and shifted as a silhouetted figure swung into a nearby tree, moving through the uppermost branches. I blinked the sweat out of my burning eyes, my nerves on wire edge, blood throbbing in my ears. My hammering heart felt eager to burst from my chest.
I lifted my head, tracking the preternatural creature as it advanced with unearthly speed, tearing from tree to tree.
I gasped as a green-skinned woman peeled from the curtain of plants about three feet from my position. She was slender and small, her wavy hair a darker shade of green than her emerald skin. Dark brown eyes regarded me as she stood on the nearby branch, her wild, unearthly features even with mine. She wore a loincloth patched up from twigs and leaves, along with a necklace and bracelets made from animal bones.
Or human bones, I realized with disgust.
I had seen images of such creatures before. Octurna had encouraged me to study vast encyclopedias filled with monsters. The green-skinned beauty had to be a Dryad, nymph-like creatures who inhabited forests. Or islands, in this case. They were goddesses of the forest who held strong powers over plants, trees, and wood. They could make vegetation grow within seconds, change a seed into a towering tree, and call on the energy in timber.
I now knew what I was up against. Not that it made defeating this creature easier. The Dryad had the upper hand.
Pressing her advantage, the Dryad leaned closer and ran her green fingers down my bobbing chest. The dark green nipple of her pert breasts brushed against me. She was sexy in a Poison Ivy kind of way, but having a vine wrapped around my neck wasn’t my idea of foreplay.
“Who are you?” the Dryad asked.
The question hung in the air as she snatched the satchel containing the bones from my shoulder. She was close enough for my gauntlet to do some severe damage, but the vines made any form of movement impossible. Her hair brushed against my face, and I inhaled her earthy scent, a blend of moist earth, fallen leaves, and damp humidity. It was calming despite my dire predicament.
“You are quite the specimen aren’t you? And there is something about your blood…”
I stared at her with big eyes. How did she know about my blood?
And then it hit me. The vines had already buried their stinger-like hooks into my arms. And that meant the vines, the trees—the whole goddamn jungle—was all part of this creature.
As the jungle fed on me, so did the queen of this cursed island. Who could have known dragon blood was the key to a monster girl’s heart?
“I might have to keep you alive for a while,” she said, her dark green lips stretching into a sardonic smile. The Dryad held up the satchel with the fallen Guardian’s bones. “You're here for the sorceress' remains. A hundred years ago, the Cabal assigned me a most important job: to protect the bones of a slain Guardian. In exchange, they would use their magic to send me a constant stream of visitors. People would wash up on my island, and I would get to feed on them and make them part of me. No one ever came for the skeleton. Not until now. So who are you?”
“Screw you,” I hissed.
The Dryad's eyes narrowed, and her index finger extended toward me, her dark green nail filed to a spear-like tip. She pressed the nail against my chest and drove it deep into my flesh.
“Who sent you? You strike me as nothing more than a talented errand boy. So who is pulling your strings? Who seeks the fallen sorceress’ power?”
Her nail buried deeper into my chest. I stifled a scream and glared defiantly at the green femme fatale.
“Hate to disappoint you, lady, but I’m not telling you anything.”
“I see. You’re a real tough guy.” She leaned closer. “You know what I like most in this world? To make meat suffer. To make it bleed. You will reveal your secrets. The green is already in your blood. And soon, I’ll be in your head and in your thoughts.”
The vines further tightened their hold on me. And beyond the pressure, I felt something wet and eel-like slithering underneath my skin. A quick glance at my outstretched arms gave me a good idea what was happening. A web of thin branches was growing just beneath the surface of my skin.
The jungle was inside me. And as the probing branches and vines expanded through my body, they were burrowing into my mind.
I could already feel my thoughts grow cloudy, reality vanishing behind a curtain of green.
I was fucking screwed.
10
The flesh is weak. I serve the goddess. I’m one with the green.
No, no, no.
“Meat is weak. It decays and rots and is devoured by the green.”
I opened my eyes. Everything was emerald. Soon the branches growing inside me would strip me of all my secrets and dignity, reducing me to a slave, an empty husk of my former self. I had to fight back. But how?
An image of Octurna reclined on her throne slashed through my mind. But now ghostly vines sprouted around her command chair, and thick patches of moss had infested the black stone. Ivy blanketed the floors and walls of the fortress, thick green vines bursting from the eye sockets of her monster skull collection. The jungle was already in my head, the green infecting my thoughts and memories like rampant cancer. Images of my dead SWAT team members filled my mind, but branches now spilled from their ears, mouths, and nostrils, and their eyes stained with chlorophyll.
I couldn’t take much more of this. The forest witch was breaking down my defenses, prying and plucking memories and thoughts right out of my mind, feeding on my most precious moments.
Turning my world green. I could feel the vines squirming deep within my body and brain, poking and prodding.
This had to stop. Now!
I screamed with agony. Hatred burned in my heart and ignited my soul.
My tats lit up, the intricate network of fractal patterns matching the color of the jungle, confirming the Dryad’s growing control over me.
I had to think. To fight back.
Blood roared in my ears, burned under my skin. I couldn’t allow the Dryad to defeat me like this. I was a Marine. I was SWAT. I was the Night Slayer. Dragon Blood pumped through my veins.
The last thought gave me pause.
The vines attached to the nearby trees had fed on my essence. The green witch had sensed its power even though she did not understand what made my blood so special.
The last three months had been filled with new insights and knowledge. Each day brought more information about this crazy world of magic and monsters. And I now recalled one vital lesson: Dragon Blood was highly flammable.
The trees had fed on my blood. If I could ignite my blood somehow, set a single tree on fire, I might trigger an explosive chain reaction. The Dryad was networked through the jungle. Having the trees go up in flame should cause enough damage to wipe that triumphant grin off the Dryad’s face.
It might work. Had to work. But how to light the fuse?
The answer was simple: I had to tap into my magic.
Only one problem. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since I used up all my spells. Even under ideal conditions, I would have had a hard time casting a new spell.
But I had fed on the slain plant creatures, and the vampires back in Italy, absorbing some of their magical energy. Generating my Fireball Spell required a certain amount of energy on my end. What if I tapped into that same spell now but instead of creating a fireball, I heated my blood? The thought was terrifying. What if I burst into flames and incinerated myself in the process?
Dragon Blood runs through your veins now, I r
eminded myself. You will be immune to the effects of the fire.
Besides, it was better to go out in a blaze of glory than allow the Dryad to transform me into one of her green zombies.
I closed my eyes, concentrated on my hammering heartbeat, and did my best at calming my raging thoughts—not the most straightforward task in the world when you have a fucking tree growing inside you. I focused all my energies on the Fireball Spell, turning it inward and directing it at my blood.
The channels of power opened up. The energy flowed through me, weak but steady bursts of magic. I was still too drained to project the force outward and conjure an actual fireball, but then again, that wasn’t the goal. All I needed to do was release enough magic to ignite my blood.
The power was flowing, gaining strength with each passing second.
One more problem remained. Activating the spell required a specific hand gesture. How could I draw a circle in the air when thick vines secured my wrists? A dramatic gesture was out of the question, but perhaps a subtle move would be sufficient to get the ball rolling. Encouraged by this thought, I extended my finger and rotated it in a tiny circular motion. It was pathetic, but I felt something stirring inside me. It was rekindling embers, and all I needed was a spark…
I repeated the finger rotation. Again and again.
And then heat washed over me.
My blood boiled.
Yes!
My chest grew hot to the touch, and the stunned Dryad backed away.
That’s right, better back off bitch. You play with fire, you’ll get burned.
My rage detonated as I performed the circle one last time with my pinkie. The vines imprisoning me ignited, the blood inside them catching a spark. Heat mushroomed at the core of my being, but I withstood it without harm. Dragon Blood didn’t burn dragons, after all. The plants that had fed on my blood were a whole other matter.
As flames devoured the vines and the trees attached to them, the Dryad let out a pain-filled shriek. Agony distorted her green features, and the pressure around my neck and arms eased as the rope-like plants lit up like fuses.
I tumbled to the jungle floor, bruised and battered but also filled with savage glee. Whatever was growing inside my body recoiled from my super-heated blood. It shriveled up and withered. The Dragon Blood immolated all traces of the green infection.
The Dryad’s shriek was music to my ears as I stumbled to my feet and staggered toward the submachine gun and the silver chain whip, which I had dropped when the plants snatched me earlier. I scooped up the pistol and whipped it in the direction of the Dryad. She was perched on a branch and bracing herself against the tree, smoking emanating from her green skin while burning vines framed her inhuman visage.
I released a quick burst of silver into the monster, the volley of bullets sending her off her perch and into the curtain of green. A beat later, she landed with a thud in the moss-covered ground. Before I could sink my blades into her downed form, she melded into the green jungle floor the way her transformed servants had earlier. Her body wasn’t flesh and blood but was plant-based and could merge with the jungle environment. This also meant she could regenerate and reconstitute herself once she finished licking her wounds.
I didn’t believe for a moment I had finished her. But the green bitch was hurting.
My gaze combed the jungle and spotted the bag of bones the Dryad had dropped during her fall. I scooped up the prize and slung the satchel over my shoulder. Then my attention turned to the model a few feet away from me. The vines had released her too when the fire started. Her eyes were wide as she stared at me in shock. She cut a pitiful sight, and another wave of fury bubbled up in me.
“I’m getting you out of here,” I said and lifted the model to her feet.
There was no way she would make it to the beach in her current condition. Man, I sure could use my Teleportation Spell about now even though its range was limited. But magic was out of the question. I had used up my last reserves to cast a half-assed version of my Fireball Spell. I would have to rely on my other skills.
I hoisted the woman over my shoulder, one arm wrapped around her while my gauntleted hand hacked a new path through the underbrush. The model was tall, but she was light, and the Dragon Blood enhanced my strength. The extra weight barely slowed me down as I crashed headlong through the jungle, charging through a corridor of green. Logs and vines tried to trip me up, plants shooting out at me left and right as I weaved through the organic obstacle course. The jungle was trying to stop me, but I was putting up a good fight, my body pulsing with adrenaline.
I only allowed myself to feel hope when I cleared the dense green undergrowth and arrived back on the beach. The ocean stretched out before me, framed by a cerulean sky and brilliant white sand. We had made it. Only a hundred feet separated us from the beached boat.
I picked up my pace.
My boots kicked up the white sand, leaving deep footprints in the pristine surface. The model moaned on my shoulder, drifting in and out of consciousness.
“We’re almost out of here,” I murmured to her. “Just hang in there a little bit longer.”
I reached the vessel and lowered the model into the craft. Once she was safely inside the vessel, I pushed the canoe down the sandy beach and back into the water. I splashed through the ocean and jumped into the bobbing boat. My hand reached for the crank, and I fired up the engine.
The water around the canoe turned white as it shot into the endless stretch of blue. Within minutes, the island receded behind me. I allowed myself a smile.
Fuck, we had made it.
Sort of.
Yes, I had gotten what I’d come for. And hopefully saved one life. I was under no illusion that the Dryad was defeated. There would be more dead bodies.
Or perhaps not. The Dryad had said the Cabal sent her fresh victims as payment for protecting the bones. Until now, the plant goddess had held up her part of the bargain. That wasn’t true any longer. She had failed. And the Cabal would punish this failure. I clenched my jaw as I thought of all the skeletons in the Dryad’s cave. I doubted too many tourists had ended up on the remote island of their own accord. All this time, the Shadow Cabal had given potential visitors an additional push. They had no reason to keep doing that if the bones were gone.
Good. I hoped the green bitch would starve.
And maybe once I paid a return visit to the vampire monastery, this accursed island would be next on the list.
I turned toward the semi-conscious woman and attempted to still all thoughts of vengeance.
I studied her lovely, bruised face. Her eyes flickered open, squinted against the sun. She took me in, then shifted her gaze to the vast expanse of blue. The ocean represented freedom. It meant we had escaped the island of horror.
“You’re okay. Everything will be all right,” I said in my most soothing voice.
Her lips stretched in a wan smile.
And then horror darkened her expression. What was wrong now?
“She’s inside me,” the model mumbled in a horrified voice. “I can feel it growing… Oh my God, please help me…”
The words died on her beautiful lips as they turned green and moss consumed her skin. The model was still looking up at me with mounting terror as her eyes became dark green, and thin vines erupted from between her brilliant white teeth.
I recoiled. This couldn’t be happening. We had escaped the island. We made it.
But the Dryad’s seed was planted deep inside this poor woman.
As the violent transformation shook the boat, I brought up my submachine gun.
The model’s face caved in and dissolved into a writhing mass of moss, her body contorting as leaves burst from her tanned skin. She was transforming into a living plant right in front of me. My gut clenched with terror, knowing deep in my heart that nothing could save the doomed model anymore.
And then the screaming ceased.
The boat stopped shaking.
The model was gone. A plant m
onster had replaced her. And the emerald eyes glaring back with murder belonged to the jungle princess.
Even though the island was barely visible in the distance, the Dryad had reached out to the seeds implanted in the model and manifested herself.
I fired my weapon at the same moment that the plant beast launched into me. The spray of silver bullets went wild as the Dryad barreled into me and knocked me off the rocking boat.
We both splashed into the ocean and drifted toward the bottom of the sea, arms wrapped around each other in a fierce, life-and-death struggle.
The water pressed against us, the ocean floor rushing up.
With horror, I realized that the Dryad’s influence extended to the bobbing seaweed and other exotic plant life growing on the ocean floor. The aquatic plants reached out with malevolent intent, green tentacles ready to crush the life out of me.
Man, this plant bitch was pissing me off.
I activated my twin blades and drove them with a deep hatred into the Dryad, fueled by the horrific memory of the poor model turning into a monster.
The twin knives burst from the plant creature’s back in a spray of green.
But the Dryad’s fierce embrace didn’t weaken. Her eyes blazed with a hatred that mirrored my own. I had hurt her trees, her children, and she was taking it personally.
Any moment now, I would land in the mass of seaweed, and those plants would bury their hooked tips into my flesh. And this time I wouldn’t have enough magic to set my blood on fire again. I was done for.
Dark thoughts of my imminent defeat edged through my mind when I spotted a massive, hulking shape in the near distance. A rust-infested steel monstrosity lay sprawled across the ocean floor—the rotting remains of some shipwreck that had spent the last eighty years at the bottom of the ocean. It had almost fused with the landscape.
Then, to my stunned surprise, I glimpsed a dim light in the rusting guts of the battered WWII battleship. The light spilled out of a doorway at the center of the wreck. A familiar outline grew visible in the glowing opening. Even from this distance, with a homicidal Dryad trying to finish me off, the red robe, porcelain skin, and raven hair were unmistakable.
Night Slayer 2: Monster Quest Page 10