by Gena; Butcher Showalter; Gena; Butcher Showalter; Gena; Butcher Showalter; Gena; Butcher Showalter
She stepped over the severed paw, and now that she was able to see through the doorway, she saw the remains of the sgath. It was in four pieces, and each one of them was leaking black blood, sending thin tendrils of smoke up from her floor. The head lay against the banister, its sightless eyes staring up at the ceiling. At least they were no longer glowing.
Mr. Etan helped her step over the biggest part of the carcass. She clutched his arm tight, feeling the dense, thick muscles beneath his leather jacket. She'd never been more thankful for a brute than she was in this moment. He may have been misplaced in time, but none of the men she'd dated would have stood a chance against the thing he'd just killed. Maybe all those muscles were for more than just vanity's sake.
"Thank you," she whispered, finally finding enough of her voice to speak.
"Sure thing, sweetheart, but we're not out of the woods yet. Stay close."
The way he was holding her arm in a death grip, she didn't think any other option was possible.
From the stairwell somewhere below them came a caustic, angry growl.
Mr. Etan stopped. "It's caught our scent. Is there any other way out?"
"Fire escape down to the alley."
A blur of movement caught her eye, but by the time she'd turned her head to see what it was, Mr. Etan was already in motion. He pushed her behind him, letting out an agonized hiss. It looked like he was fighting the need to double over in pain, but in the end, he stood straight and tall, his blade ready for the sgath that leaped up the stairs, gouging deep grooves into the wood. It didn't even bother to use the treads—just bounded between one railing and the other, hopping up each flight of stairs in two giant leaps.
It lunged at Mr. Etan, but he stepped aside at the last second, pushing her along with him. It bounced against the wall next to her head, ripping the plaster from the wall with its teeth.
Mr. Etan ducked low and spun so fast his blade was a flashing arc of silver. One of the thing's legs flew away from its body, streaming oily blood as it went. A drop of it landed on her suit jacket and began to sizzle.
Mr. Etan shoved her back with one big hand, forcing her to stumble away from the sgath. "Get out," he ordered.
Viviana regained her balance and jerked the jacket off her body before that blood could touch her skin. By the time she had, Mr. Etan had landed another solid blow to the sgath's side.
It roared in pain and its green eyes flared bright. For a moment she was frozen in place, struck by the oddity that the green color reminded her of all those Mr. Yuck stickers her mother had placed on the chemicals in their home when Viviana was in elementary school.
"Go!" he shouted. "Now."
She gave herself a hard shake to rid herself of the need to stare at that eerie light and turned to run. She'd made it only two steps toward the fire escape when another one of those sgath creatures lifted its head and peered into the window.
The sgath snorted out a heavy breath, making the glass fog up. Before that misty spot had completely cleared, the monster lunged for her, shattering the window.
Chapter Three
Neal heard the sound of glass shattering. A second later, a blast of cold air hit him.
Viviana let out a yelp of fear and bumped into his back. "There's another one," she yelled.
The sgath he'd fought tonight were bigger and stronger than those he'd been fighting for decades. Maybe the things had found a stockpile of steroids or something.
He shoved forward, blade first, lunging to push the sgath back on its one remaining leg. It stumbled and fel in an awkward heap.
Normally, he would have finished the thing off, but apparently there were more urgent matters that needed his attention, like an uninjured sgath going after a defenseless woman.
Neal spun around, tracking Viviana's position as he moved. Even though he couldn't see her, he could somehow feel her presence, like sunlight glowing against his skin. She gave off a subtle kind of humming he knew he'd be able to track even if he were blind.
He grabbed her arm and hauled her through the bedroom door into the room with the new sgath. He booted the door between them and the injured sgath closed, hoping for a few seconds to deal with the new threat.
Viviana wielded a crystal lamp like it would actually do some good against the demon, and while he admired her courage, she was just going to get herself killed if she tried to fight it.
Before she could, Neal charged, pulling out all the stops. He let loose all the pain he'd carried for too long, his anger at the time that damn stun gun had stolen from him, and his worry for the woman at his side. Fueled by that rage and fear, his body exploded into motion, going through a series of coordinated, powerful movements he'd practiced more times than he could count.
He met the sgath midcharge and used its momentum against it. His sword sliced deep, sending a thick spray of black blood across the cheery yellow wall paper.
The sgath screamed, but its vocal cords had been severed, and the noise came out as more of a breezy hiss.
The cut was deep, but apparently not deep enough to stop the thing. It opened its jaws and raised its front claws to strike.
Neal was in a bad position, and as the nanoseconds passed in an adrenaline-slowed crawl, he realized he wasn't going to be able to recover his stance in time to dodge the blow. His flank was unprotected, and in another heartbeat he was going to lose a big chunk of flesh between his ribs and his hip. There wasn't time to do anything to stop it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a sparkling object fly past. It slammed into the head of the sgath. Crystal prisms erupted into the room, casting pretty rainbows over the sgath's matted fur.
It reared back in shock, shaking its head as if stunned.
That motion gave Neal enough time to recover and avoid the incoming blow. He took a half step to his right, tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, and shoved it into the sgath's chin and up into its brain.
It wriggled there for a moment, lashing out blindly before it fell still and silent.
The bedroom door burst open, bouncing off the wall so hard it nearly closed again. Only the hulking form of the injured sgath charging into the room kept it open.
Neal didn't have time to release his sword, so he hauled the heavy body of the dead sgath along the blade, using it to bat at its own kind. His muscles strained under the added weight, but his blade held strong and solid.
The injured sgath flailed and hit the wall hard.
Neal shoved the dead sgath from his sword with his boot, and wasted no time in finishing off the last threat to Viviana.
He wiped the blood from his blade on the dead sgath's fur, and turned to the woman.
She was standing in the corner, taking up as little space as possible. She had some kind of ceramic figurine in her gloved hands, clutching it like it might save her life. Her hazel eyes were wide with shock, and her slim body was shaking so hard he could see her silk blouse shimmering with the tiny tremors.
Neal moved to her as he scanned her skin and clothing for signs of blood splatter. He found none.
Keeping his voice calm, he said, "It's over now, but we need to go."
She didn't seem to hear him, so he eased the little figurine from her fingers and took her hand.
He could feel her chilled skin, even through the glove, but he'd get her warm soon enough. He just needed to get her out of the house and into his truck so they could avoid any more unexpected guests.
He tugged her forward and she took one stumbling step. Clearly she was still in shock, not that he could blame her. A lot had happened tonight.
But if he didn't get her out of here, a hell of a lot more was going to happen.
Rather than trying to talk her down, he wrapped his arm around her slim waist and lifted her over the sgath corpses. By the time he set her on her feet at the broken window, she was batting at his hand. "I can walk."
If her legs were as shaky as her voice, she was going to tumble down the fire escape. "I'm sure you can. But
it's icy out there. We're safer if we stick together."
Neal scanned the alley below and saw no signs of more Synestryn. It was going to have to be good enough.
They went down the steps. He kept a firm grip on her arm in case she froze up or slipped. The last few feet were a bit slow, but they made it down into the alley.
He helped her over a mound of trash, and then he picked up the pace, heading for his truck.
Snow crunched under their feet as they went, and accumulated in their hair.
Viviana was shaking like crazy, and Neal didn't know if it was more from shock or cold. He slipped his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. She clutched it closed at her throat.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
He waited for the first safe break in the traffic and hurried them across the street, ignoring the horns and outraged shouts from the cars he forced to slow so they wouldn't hit them.
The lights on his truck flashed as he unlocked the doors. He didn't bother taking her around to the passenger's side, but instead opened the driver's side, lifted her onto the high bench seat, and got in behind her, crowding her so she had to scoot over to make room for him.
The engine started with a deep rumble. He cranked up the heat and leaned over so he could buckle her in. Then he shoved his way into the oncoming traffic, drawing yet more blasts from car horns.
Whatever. He wasn't in the mood to be a courteous driver. He had more important things to worry about.
Like what the hell he was going to do with her now.
The St. Louis skyline was well behind them when Viviana's mind finally stopped sputtering and started running again.
She'd been attacked by monsters. Three monsters. Mr. Etan had killed them all to save her.
She turned her head the slightest bit, trying to look at him without appearing like she was. She'd never seen anyone move like that. He was mesmerizing. Brutal grace. Beautiful death.
He hadn't said a word since they'd gotten in his truck. There was no radio to block the silence, only the humming of the pavement under his tires and her too-fast breathing.
Viviana didn't know what to say. "Thank you" seemed a bit inadequate. In fact, she wasn't even sure if she should thank him at all. For all she knew, he'd sent those things after her so he could save her and impress her enough to let him have the gadget he wanted.
"Shouldn't we go back? Call the police? Or animal control?"
"No."
"Where are you taking me?"
"South."
"South where?"
"I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead yet. I just wanted to keep moving so the truck would warm up. You were shaking."
She still was, though she wasn't nearly as cold now as she had been, thanks to his leather jacket and the delicious heat that was pouring out of the truck's vents. She pulled off her cotton gloves and held her hands close to the dash to warm them.
"Do you want something to eat?" he asked.
She looked at him to see if it was some kind of joke. He wasn't smiling. "Are you serious? We nearly died and you want to eat?"
He lifted one thick shoulder in a shrug. "We're still alive. Gotta keep our strength up."
"I'd rather talk about what happened back there."
Guilt flattened his mouth. "That was my fault."
"You brought those things with you?"
He spared her a quick, appalled glance. "Hell, no. I'd never do that. But I think it's my fault they found you."
"Care to explain that?"
He shook his head. "It's a long story, but the short version is too shocking to blurt out."
"I'm tough, Mr. Etan. I think I can take it."
"Neal," he said. "Call me Neal. And tough or not, I'm not sure you need another shock so soon after being attacked by sgath."
"How about you let me judge whether or not I'm able to handle more. I assure you my constitution is not so delicate as you might think."
He grunted his disagreement as he pulled into a fast-food restaurant and parked. "If it's like the rest of you, it is."
Indignation was swiftly burning away all traces of the fear she'd felt earlier. "I think I should get out here and call a cab. Thank you for saving me. you'll understand if I prefer never to see you again." That last part was a bit of a lie. She'd enjoy seeing him as often as possible. He was the epitome of the term eye candy, but that didn't mean she would indulge.
She unfastened her seat belt and reached for the door handle.
Neal moved so fast she didn't even have time to yelp. He grabbed her hips and pulled her back across the leather seat until she was practically in his lap. She felt the hardness of his body behind her, the heat of his big hands sinking through her skirt.
When he spoke, she could feel his breath brush past the top of her ear. "If you leave me, you probably won't live to see sunrise."
Her insides began to quiver, and she wasn't sure if it was his extreme prediction or the feel of his hands on her that caused the odd reaction. That resonant vibration was back, streaming through her, pooling in her belly, and expanding to fill up all the empty spaces.
"Don't be ridiculous," she said, her voice shaking as much as her body.
"I'm not. Those sgath found you once; they can do it again."
"You said that was your fault. If I'm not with you, it won't happen again."
"Wrong."
She wasn't sure, but she thought she felt his mouth make the briefest, fluttering contact with her ear. She shivered, though she wasn't sure if it was his touch that made it happen, or merely the thought of him touching her that did it.
Either way, she wasn't going to sit here and be manhandled. "Let me go."
Slowly, he released her hips, dragging his fingers over her wool skirt so slowly it was almost a caress. "Please don't try to run," he told her, the warning ringing clearly in his tone. "I can't let that happen."
Viviana scooted back across the seat as far as she could go. She faced him, determined to watch those too-fast hands of his. "Why not?"
"I nee—" He cut off whatever he'd been going to say and started again. "We still have the matter of the gadget to settle. I can't go home without it. My friend's life is at stake."
She gave him a steady stare. "So is yours if you grab me again like that."
A small smile played about his bold mouth, giving her the sudden urge to reach out and see if his lips were as soft as they looked or as hard as the rest of him. "Fair enough."
She straightened her skirt and smoothed her hands over her hair to make sure her bun hadn't come undone in all the excitement. "Let's start with this friend of yours. How is it you think my artifact will help?"
"It's some kind of healing device. My friend is suffering from a progressive kind of paralysis.
Without this gadget, he'll die. I won't let that happen."
"Stop it with the thinly veiled threats, will you? If I lived through those horrible creatures, I can certainly live through whatever you have to offer."
"Don't forget I was the one who killed them."
Which reminded her . . . "Your sword. Where did it go?"
He patted his side. "It's here. You just can't see it."
Viviana snorted. Her mother would have frowned in censure at the noise, which brought about a wave of grief and loneliness. She missed Mother so much—even her annoying parts.
Viviana closed her eyes and suffered through the unwanted emotions. Her heart had been through a workout tonight, and she couldn't find the strength to keep everything in check like normal.
"Hey. What's wrong?" asked Neal gently a moment before his hand settled on hers.
An effervescent tingling wove its way through her arm and into her chest. It expanded into a plume of warmth that drove away all thoughts of grief and sadness. For a single, shining moment, Viviana felt safe and happy. Like she belonged.
She'd spent her entire life standing outside, looking in. She'd never been like other children. As an orphan, s
he'd begun life as an outcast—an infant no one wanted. Her mother had adopted her before any of Viviana's memories had begun to form, but it hadn't seemed to save her from the knowledge that she was different.
Mother said she was special, but Viviana knew that was simply a euphemism for someone who didn't fit in.
"I'm fine," she managed to say.
"You don't look fine. You look like you just found out someone killed your kitten."
Viviana swallowed and collected her wits. "Too much excitement for one night. That's all."
She started to pull her hand away, but Neal's grip tightened slightly, holding her hand in his. "Not yet," he said. "I'm not ready to start hurting again."
She blinked in confusion. "What?"
"Let's get back to the gadget, shall we? You were just about to tell me where it was so we could go get it and save my friend Torr."
"Nice try, but not good enough. You were going to show me your sword."
Viviana was sure she'd seen the intricate vines winding around the hilt. Even as fast as he'd moved, she knew what she saw. And if she was right, his sword was made by the same ancient people as her treasured collection.
Neal lifted a brow. "You want to see my sword?"
"Yes."
"If I show you, will you tell me where the gadget is?"
"Maybe."
His thick chest expanded with a heavy sigh. "Fine."
Slowly, so slowly she could feel his touch over every nerve, he pulled his hand away from hers.
The moment their skin broke contact, his whole body went tense. Sweat broke out over his forehead, and his breathing was fast and shallow.
Worry for him hit her, worming its way so deep it was almost as if she'd known him for years.
"Are you okay?"
"Just give me a minute."
She did. Seconds ticked by, and slowly his body relaxed.
"Damn, that gets worse every time," he said, panting.
"What gets worse?"
He shook his head and pinned her with his glittering gaze. "That's all part of that long story.