“That silly little pig-sticker couldn’t harm me if you tried.” Robin sneered. “There are only a few weapons in existence that can do me any damage. Precious, you know this.”
He shot me a scathing look. “If you had done your job, I would have had one more of them. Instead...”
“Did somebody take something from the Black Anni, Robin?” Rana asked softly.
The noise that left him then was so abnormal, so…unnatural, it sent chills down my spine.
He lunged for Rana and she slashed up with her short sword.
“You little bitch! Where is it!”
Rana laughed as she twisted and whirled out of his way. Oh, she was fast. I’d forgotten how fast. “Like I would tell you. Come on, puck. Let’s see how much blood I can draw from you with my little pig-sticker. You are looking rather…porcine of late, you know.”
He snarled, another one of those unnatural, rumbling noises that sounded of tumbling rocks and broken glass, all smashed together.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve broken a warrior, Rana. You’ll regret this…but I’m going to enjoy it.” He held out a hand and I watched as a fiery length formed there, in his hand.
A blade, I realized. A stench filled the air, one of sulfur and rotting dead things.
He swung the blade through the air and the stink became worse, the blade trailing wisps of putrid smoke in its wake.
As he brought it down toward Rana’s head, she brought hers up.
A shower of sparks exploded.
Kit. Nova’s voice echoed in the back of my head, hard, cold…emotionless. We have the kids out. But the adults who were here—they are gone—just about all of them. And he had a lot more than I thought. I think he sent them south.
My stomach twisted—and it wasn’t only because the puck had just sent the blade in a deadly arc that came way too close to Rana’s neck.
We’d worried he’d had something lying in wait for Orlando. We’d egged him into it, even. That was why...
Hell. That was why we were playing things out the way we were. The big cat loitered at my side protectively, ready to lunge at a moment’s notice.
We were prepared for him to try for Orlando. We’re ready, I thought, pushing those words out. How many?
A lot, Kit. I don’t know how many and I can’t risk reaching out. Look…I haven’t mentioned this because I didn’t want Justin knowing and trying to do anything about it on his own, but one of the people left here…Justin told you about him. I have to take him out. There are two witches here that can’t be left alive and those are the only two still here.
I frowned, not sure what he was talking about.
Then Nova nudged my memories.
Justin, in my office, as he told me about the terrible weight of his new abilities, and the consequences that had almost happened. What Banner had almost done to him. Banner…and its connection to this awful place. Banner—because it was a federal entity and the fucking fake president had corrupted everything.
“They took me to this…I guess you can call it a hospital, but it’s more like a jail. That’s where I met the other witch who had a gift for metallurgy. He was strong…I could feel him from miles away. You’ve met those kind before. Like a storm coming on… When they finally caught up with him, he was using a human girl for a pincushion. He was using metal shards to penetrate that girl’s body, over and over. She was still alive when they first arrived. She bled out before they could take him down.”
Justin had looked haunted when he told me about the other metallurgist, one who’d been born evil and the onslaught of the new gift had just made him even crueler, made him thirst for blood that much more.
The other one is an offshoot. I don’t know what he is, but they keep him in a pit and toss him the remains from prisoners who died in experiments. He can’t get out, Kit. He hurts my brain and that’s just the start of it.
I knew what he was trying to tell me.
Bad things would happen if the messed-up NHs got to Orlando—and bad things would happen along the way—but even worse things would happen if the two still left here got free. Do what you have to, Nova. Deal with those two.
And Mr. Goodfellow.
“No,” I said softly. “He’s mine.”
There was a faint sense of…acceptance. Then, Nova said, Kit…duck.
He was gone from my mind in the next moment and I ducked, rolling to the side just as Rana came flying through the air.
A lean, muscled form, its pelt a warm gold caught her and eased her to the ground, keeping her from smashing into the crumbling stone of the hospital. “Oh, bollocks,” Robin muttered as he came striding toward us, swinging his sword up and settling it on his shoulder.
We’re clear, Kit. Chang has reached the cover of the woods and they are moving off. He’s secured a vehicle and will be out of range in minutes.
I acknowledged that and began to slowly move back.
“You’re like some annoying garden pest—I take one of you down and the other pops back up.” He pointed his sword at the warrior-form of the cat as he rose protectively over Rana. “You. I’m just going to kill you. I’d planned to skin you and nail you to a wall so you could watch while I cut into your woman. Now? I think I’ll just make you change back and cut out those pretty gray eyes. They can sit on a shelf while I rape your bitch.”
He held out a hand.
Wind swept through the clearing and Rana lunged, throwing her body over mine and taking us both down as the wind grabbed the shifter and threw him into Robin’s hand.
“How does that sound, you worthless animal?” Robin asked as he grabbed the powerful shifter’s body and flung the cat to the ground. “Not like you have a choice, but do you want to live a few minutes more or just…die?”
The low, ugly snarl was full of menace, but Robin just laughed as he tightened his hand around the cat’s thick, muscular neck. “Come on…oh, you really are quite alpha, aren’t you?” He licked his lips, his blue eyes glowing brighter for a brief a moment. “Change, my strong little cat. Maybe I’ll let you live. You can be my toy.”
He slammed the cat down and by the time his furred head struck stone, the pelt had begun to recede.
“I’d…make…a very bad…toy...you son of a bitch.”
The cat finished his shift—almost completely and Scott, Damon’s second strongest man, surged to his feet, a half-demented smile on his face. Then he struck out, driving his clawed hand—the one part of his body that had yet to shift back—into the puck’s stomach. Then, with a sickening, wet sound I’ll never forget, Scott wrenched the spine and tore it out. For a brief moment, Robin just stared.
Then he faltered and stumbling, collapsed.
For a minute, I thought maybe it was over.
Maybe.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“You didn’t really think we’d leave Orlando unprotected, did you?” Scott stood up, his face a mask of matted fur and blood.
Then he spat on Robin’s still body as he came over to us, one leg moving awkwardly.
Rana shoved upright onto her hands and knees and spat out a mouthful of blood. The right side of her face was nothing more than an ugly map of bruises, some of them already so swollen, it was hard to tell where one stopped and the next began.
One eye was swollen shut.
The other was clear, though. Clear, hard and focused.
“Can you call?” Her voice was thick and raspy and when she got to her feet, I knew why. Robin had managed to get his hand around her throat, then he squeezed, squeezed, squeezed.
I moved to her side and helped her up while Scott stood in front of us.
He gave both of us a critical look before focusing back on the battered body of Robin Goodfellow. He was already starting to regenerate the spine Scott had ripped out—I could see the body twitching. “You should have ripped off his head, bought us more time.”
“The more damage he has, the faster he heals,” Scott said almost clinically. “I figured tha
t out before I let him incapacitate me.”
“You let him,” Rana said, her voice still a raspy ruin of what it should be.
“Yes.” Scott lifted a negligent shoulder. “He would have done it sooner or later and the quicker he did it, the quicker I would heal. He’s a strong son of a bitch. Please tell me you know what you’re doing. If he makes it to Orlando…”
Rana gave me that intense look again, one brow arching.
“We got this.” I focused on the exposed spine—no. Back. His back was whole and unmarked—
Oh, fuck.
Robin exploded off the ground, his blue eyes blazing so bright, it almost hurt to look at him. And he did explode—bigger, taller, wider. His clothes fell to tatters around him and heat emanated from him. I felt it leaking out to kiss my flesh.
He shot out a hand and we scattered.
I darted behind a tree. I grabbed a branch and monkeyed up. Height. I needed height.
“You will die for that, you pathetic excuse for a man,” Robin shouted.
The shout was a lot farther off the ground than it had been. Yeah. He was bigger. The shout was much larger than it should be, too. I chanced a look at him as he swung out a massive hand, flattening several of the small, scraggly trees across the broken concrete pathway.
Scott in his half form leaped out from the shadows, holding…shit, it looked like a sign post, ripped out of the ground. He lunged upward and drove it into the puck’s exposed testicles. Very big, hairy testicles. He was four or five times his normal size now and even more disproportionate than he had been, yet he moved with the same insidious grace.
Or he had, until Scott had dealt him a very sharp, painful blow to his balls.
As Robin howled, Scott dashed back off into the shadows.
Off in the distance, I heard a rumbling.
“You…all of you…are going to die…the slowest, most painful death…and I’ll watch,” Robin said. He crashed into the side of the building and flung out a hand, staring toward it. Waiting. “And yes, I’ll be going to Orlando. You think I’ve forgotten about those mongrels you wanted to protect? I’ll eat their bones now. Skin them while they scream.”
Blood seeped down his thigh, no longer the heavy flow it had been.
A hand touched my ankle.
I tensed, but didn’t move, recognizing Rana’s presence.
Now. Her look communicated that as our eyes met.
I gave a single, jerking nod.
She’d warned me that he’d know the second I called the bow.
He’d feel it.
I settled into position, automatically taking the stance I’d need as I faded, letting the invisibility settle over me. Almost…almost...
His head swung in my direction and I panicked. Did he see me?
But there was another rumble and he looked back, bellowed. “Salazar! Come!”
I lifted my bow.
He looked at me again.
My gut sank.
I almost screamed as something—no—Scott launched himself out of the shadows once more, this time holding something more damaging than a street sign. It looked like…shit, was that a railroad tie? He drove it into one of Robin’s eyes. But in doing so, he got too close, lingered too long.
Scott’s pained scream as Robin caught him in both hands sent a hot, nasty spike into my brain and I almost leaped down—I couldn’t see him—I needed a better view.
Don’t! It was Rana’s voice. In that small place in my head, I heard her voice clear as day. You have to wait. You’ll only have one chance!
Something bloody went flying.
“I’ll rip you apart limb from limb!” Robin howled as a river of red spurted from Scott’s upper body.
An arm, I realized numbly. He’d ripped off Scott’s arm.
There was another rumble in the ground.
Man, Nova had to do something—
“Why don’t you put my man down and deal with me, you overgrown garden gnome?”
The sound of that voice made my hands clench.
Damon.
He wasn’t supposed to here.
Orlando.
He was supposed to be in Orlando, him and Doyle, keeping the Lair safe.
He emerged from the shadows and as I stared at him, stunned into a stupor, he fired a cocky grin up at the puck.
“Well, well, well…ran away from your little cave, did you, cat? Are those little kitties all alone in the big bad city?” Robin winked and chuckled. “Nice to know. I’ll have lots of fun with them—after I kill you.” He hurled Scott’s mangled, bleeding body in my direction.
He hit with a sickening crack and thud.
I looked—I couldn’t stop myself.
Scott’s lashes fluttered and he made a low, pained noise.
“You might have a little more trouble than you think.” Damon threw back his head and snarled—by the time the terrible, awful sound had ended, Damon was no longer human—or at least, he wasn’t wearing his human skin. He was never human.
Now he stood seven feet and stepped across the clearing. “You gonna to hide behind the steroids, hobgoblin?”
Robin laughed. Then he, too, took a few steps forward, shrinking with each step. The railroad tie still pierced his skull, looking obscenely huge and he reached up, casually plucking it out. Blood and gore smeared it as he swung it at Damon.
Damon moved out of the way, faster than anything I’d ever seen.
Robin made a humming sound under his breath. “That was a clever trick, sending the other one.”
He swung again, faster.
The ground shook and he smiled at Damon. “But I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve you can’t even hope to match.”
“Don’t bet on it.” Damon had moved again, his back almost toward me.
And Robin was almost facing me—
Damon swung out a clawed hand. It made contact and so did the next.
But Robin made contact, too.
And he was strong.
Much, much stronger.
I bit my lip to keep from screaming.
The ground rumbled again and Robin shot a look over his shoulder. “Salazar!”
The earth was vibrating almost constantly now and Robin paced forward, moving ever closer to my tree—and Damon and Scott—no.
Scott wasn’t there.
I blinked, not sure what I was seeing.
But Scott wasn’t there.
Robin didn’t even notice.
“You think you’ve got me on the run, all four of you, making me spin like a top.” He drew back a foot to kick Damon, but Damon caught his foot and twisted, moving with him.
At the same time, he drove claws up into Robin’s gut, disemboweling him. That might have slowed down a lot of creatures. Robin just ripped out the trailing bits of meat and hurled them away, backhanding Damon as he shoved upright. “I tire of this. Sala—”
Another rumble and the door to the decrepit, ancient building blew open. A shadow appeared just as Robin turned, his face splitting in a brilliant smile.
“Ah, yes, there’s my…”
The puck’s voice faded as the shadow hurled something toward us.
“There…I think you wanted him.” I recognized Nova’s sly, good-natured drawl. “Will that piece do or did you want a bigger slice?”
Robin snatched the round object out of the air. I saw what it was as the puck stood there, holding it in his hands. A head. A dismembered head. I fought the urge to giggle, felt the bubble of manic, mad humor—people were losing their heads all over the place.
Slowly, Robin let the savaged piece of flesh fall to the ground and he lifted his gaze to stare at Nova.
I called the bow. Nocked the arrow.
Nova came barreling out and skidded to a stop, halfway between the puck and the open doors. Unerringly, his eyes found mine and his mouth hitched up. Showtime, Kit. It’s been fun. You need to make tracks.
The very air seemed to freeze.
The arrow was nearly soundless.
It hit the tree next to me with such force, half the branches shuddered and broke. The noise was like a sonic boom—nothing should be that strong. I fell, thrown off balance.
And when I fell, so did the veil of invisibility.
“No!” Robin shouted. “You cannot…No!”
I guess he’d felt the bow.
He came at us hard and fast as I lifted the Druidic bow, another arrow ready.
He stumbled to a halt at the sight of it, one hand lifted. “Loose the arrow and you die with me.”
A pressure closed around my head, squeezing, squeezing...
Lights danced in front of my eyes.
Somebody screamed. It might have been me.
“Give me the bow!”
I loosed the arrow and it went wide. But the other arrow, the one still shivering in the wall of the building—I called it. And sent it home. Right in the eye of the puck.
That was where it wanted to be.
The air exploded.
Or maybe it was my head.
I only know I went flying—like a punch straight to my chest. I hurtled back, back, back… strong arms caught me.
“Nova,” I said.
Damon pressed my face into his chest.
And then, everything went white hot.
A supernova, just like the man had once said.
The blast sent us hurtling back through the air and white light scored in the inside of my eyes.
That white light seemed to last forever.
But then, it faded and all I saw was black.
I woke alone and in the darkness.
My head was hurting so bad, I thought I might be sick.
“You didn’t do too bad.”
That voice was enough to send me scrambling for my sword—scrambling, because in the blur of pain and agony, I’d forgotten for a brief second.
Forgotten I could call her again.
Forgotten that this woman had fixed it.
Shadowed Blade (Colbana Files Book 6) Page 26