This hunter was three times the Horseman’s size, but the Horseman didn’t seem to have to have even broken a sweat keeping those claws at bay. The Horseman grinned, his eyes narrowed, and he delivered a solid strike to the hunter’s chest with so much force behind it that it sent the beast smashing into the side of the building.
The wall cracked, bits of brick and mortar crumbling around the point of impact, and the hunter dropped to his knees. Stunned. Shocked.
“Holy shit…” I said, breathless. Not only because of what I’d just witnessed, but because I recognized the scar that ran across his thick jaw. I had put that scar there nine years ago, but he had been a lot younger, then; his face far less monstrous and run through with the hard lines only a life of fighting can give a man, no matter their race.
His name was Sorzath, and he was supposed to be dead.
Sorzath shook his head and turned his hateful gaze onto the Horseman. “Good,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “You are as much a challenge as I had hoped.”
I was about to pull myself up, but another Crimson Hunter was already on me. In the excitement, I’d forgotten he’d been there, standing before the crumpled remains of the guard he’d just brutally murdered. As the hunter yanked me up by my chains, I swore to myself I wouldn’t make that mistake again and narrowed my focus to a fine point.
“You smell like us,” the hunter growled into the back of my head, his hot breath reeking of blood.
I jumped, tucked my knees into my chest, and then kicked my feet back against the hunter, breaking his grip on my chains. Falling into a roll, I quickly righted myself and stood, turning to face the Crimson Hunter as he lunged at me, his face twisted with rage.
My hands were tied behind my back, but my feet were free. With another little jump and a twirl in the air, I delivered a roundhouse kick into the side of the hunter’s face. My steel-capped boot made contact, cracking his jaw, and sending him staggering off to the side, clutching his injured face.
He turned to glare at me, blood spilling from his mouth, his eyes wide with rage. He was about to spread his wings, a common intimidation tactic among my kind, but the two guards who had been at the mouth of the alley had seen the commotion and started running in, bolts of magic blazing.
The alley lit up in vibrant shades of green and blue as streaks of light sailed past me. Most of the magic bolts went wide of the hunter standing in front of me, striking the wall at the end of the alley instead in showers of sparks. Despite the massive target, they couldn’t seem to hit him. Not because he was ducking and weaving, either, but because they were crap shots.
I rolled my eyes. “Really? You’re gonna let me do all the work?”
The hunter turned around to face me, sending his claws thrusting out toward my throat. I twirled to the side, spinning out of his reach and then kicked him in the abdomen with all my might, knocking the wind out of his lungs and making him double over.
Flashes of light continued to sail past him, illuminating his body as they streaked across his back, beneath his wings. When one of the bolts of magic finally did strike the hunter, he went down onto one knee, his hand shooting out to keep him from hitting the asphalt hard.
Across from him, the Horseman was engaged in a fist fight with Sorzath. A fist fight. I almost couldn’t believe it. Yes, the Horseman was a massive specimen of a man, a vision of Adonis garbed in a dark suit. He made everyone around him look, and feel, small. But Sorzath was larger, his muscles thick and powerful, his arms the size of pythons.
He made the Horseman look small. But the Horseman kept his guard up, kept blocking and dodging, moving like water. I doubted if he felt small. He was incredible. Graceful, despite his size. Powerful. His every step meticulously calculated.
And yet, he wasn’t exactly throwing punches of his own. Watching him, I got the feeling like he was playing with the hunter. As if he was in complete control of the situation. As if he could finish this at any moment he wanted.
“Stop pretending, Horseman!” Sorzath roared. “Fight me with honor.”
“Your kind have no honor, fiend,” the Horseman said, his voice low and calm. “You are dogs, and you will be put down as dogs for what you have done here tonight.”
“We’ll see about that.”
The lack of magic bolts flying past me snapped me back into the moment. I glanced to the right, to the spot where the guards had been running into the alley from, but they weren’t there anymore. A squelching sound somewhere above drew my attention. Blood splattered on the floor around me, and I watched one of the guards smash into the dead-end wall with an awful crack.
His headless body hit the wall like a meat bag, tearing at the seams and painting it red. The other guard was nowhere to be seen, but the third hunter, the one who’d disappeared, now descended on me, his claws gleaming in the night, his eyes shining.
I threw myself to the side and rolled on the ground, avoiding the hunter as he smashed into the ground. He spun around with lightning quickness and came after me, but by that point I was already up and running across the alley, toward one of the side walls.
Focus, Six, I thought, Remember your training.
The hunter was vicious, relentless, and far from stupid, but his size made it difficult for him to react to a smaller, faster target. I leapt onto the wall as I reached it, using it as a springboard to leap up and over the hunter and land behind his back. I smashed the steel-cap of my boot into the back of one of his knees and made him kneel.
I went to kick him again, but he put his arm up and blocked my strike. He grabbed my foot and tried to drag me to him, only he’d forgotten I had another foot I could use. I pushed myself off the ground and toward him, kicking him with my free foot and forcing him to release me. He staggered back, and by the time he had regained his composure, I was already attacking him, throwing kick after kick into his chest, his abdomen, his face.
I brought the hunter to his knees, exhausted, panting. A final kick to his chest sent him sprawling to the floor on his back, his arms and wings outstretched. My heart was pounding against my temples, my blood racing through my veins, but despite the roar of exhilaration, I still heard the beating of more wings.
There were more than three hunters out on the hunt tonight, and the rest had joined the fray, descending from the darkness above and around us. But the way directly ahead of me was clear, and open. All I had to do was start running, and I could make it to the mouth of the alley and disappear into the night before any of the hunter noticed I was gone.
The rush of air whooshed past my ears, pulling my hair behind my head. I spun around just in time to catch a tall, winged beast descend near the Horseman’s position. He’d been so busy dueling with Sorzath, now he had two Crimson Hunters to deal with; and a heartbeat later, there were three more hunters closing in on him like walls of thickly chorded muscle.
They’d come out of nowhere, out of the shadows, out of the walls. Hunters always travelled in packs, but I didn’t remember them moving in packs of six. They wanted to take the Horseman down, and they knew they’d only be able to succeed if they came out in force.
The Horseman backed up, trying to make some room between him and his attackers. The side effect of that was, they were between him and me, too. If I wanted to run, I could’ve run. He wouldn’t have been able to stop me. But that wasn’t my mission. My mission was to kill him.
For the briefest of moments, I thought about letting the hunter kill him, but they weren’t capable.
I knew that.
He knew that.
They, however, didn’t.
“Sorzath!” I screamed, my voice bouncing off the walls.
Sorzath, turned his head, his eyes narrow, blood pouring from a gash in his cheek. “What did you say?” he growled.
“What’s the matter, don’t recognize me?” I turned around and flashed the shackles keeping my hands bound behind my back. “How about now?”
The hunter’s eyes widened, the amber shine bathing his f
ace with light and shining off the blood trickling down his cheek. “Se hoska resk,” he said, the words drawing out of his mouth on an escaping breath.
I frowned. I hadn’t heard those words said to me in years, but the meaning behind them still stung. “The last time I saw you, you were dead,” I said.
“And you are still in chains, I see. Why am I not surprised? You were always pathetic.”
“Let him go, Sorzath. You’ve had your hunt.”
“I don’t need your protection,” the Horseman said.
“You could not protect him if you wanted to,” Sorzath added, “In fact, when I am done killing the Horseman, I am going to kill you. The skull of se hoska resk will make a fine addition to my collection of trophies.”
“I wasn’t trying to protect him from you. I was trying to protect you from him, but now you can go fuck yourself.”
“Agreed,” the Horseman said, drawing an open fist in to the air.
He closed his fist, and one of the other hunters collapsed into himself like a house of cards. Every single bone in his body broke in quick succession, the sound a sickening, prolonged crack followed by a howl of agony that was only too abruptly cut short as the Horseman snapped the hunter’s neck… with little more than a gesture of his hands.
My stomach wrenched at the sight of such immense power.
I staggered back, dizzy, off balance. The hunters charged at him, roaring, fists flailing, wings beating. More of them joined the fray; huge, winged creatures rushing past me to join their brothers in the fight. I crouched into a ball to keep from being hit, but now that Sorzath had marked me as his target, not all of the hunters were going after the Horseman.
One came up behind me and yanked me up by my hair. I stomped down on his foot and then threw my elbow into his nose. His grip on me loosened, but it wasn’t enough for me to free myself. A clawed hand reached for my neck, their razor-sharp tips lightly kissing the skin just enough to open it and make it bleed, but not enough to kill me.
That honor was reserved for Sorzath, the leader of the pack.
I watched the wall of hunter move in around the Horseman, a chaotic flurry of wings and fists and feet and teeth. What I’d just seen him do was… brutal. That kind of power was unnatural, too much for any one man. But there were too many of them. They crowded him like hyenas, searching for his weak points and exploiting them until he was too tired to fight.
That was how Crimson Hunters took down more powerful prey. But the Horseman was no ordinary prey. I could already feel the push of air rushing into the alley from its mouth, and on its back, that wild, woodland scent of his. It immediately overwhelmed my senses, driving away the stink of blood, of animal, of rotten magic.
The air crackled around the Horseman, around the hunters. Some of them pulled away from him, holding their arms up in front of him and using their wings to protect themselves against the wind. I had trouble keeping myself upright, especially without the use of my hands, so I darted across the alley to a dumpster and pressed my back against it, hoping its broken wheels would hold it in place and buffer me against the rising wind.
“What is this?” one of the hunters howled, not in English, but in the Serakon native tongue.
“Sorcery,” Sorzath roared, “Ignore it. Kill him!”
The wind suddenly, and inexplicably died out. I felt a strange, tingling sensation fall around my head and chest. I felt my heart thumping against my chest—not quickly, but heavily, as if it was trying to break through my ribcage. It was as if this moment of time hung suspended in the air, like the calm before the storm.
An explosion rocked the alley. I wanted to cover my ears, but my hands were tied. The dumpster rocked and the walls cracked as a wave of pressure tore through the alley. One hunter went flying over my head and slammed into the ground like a meteor. Another went through one of the buildings walls, sending bits of brick and dust flying.
The dumpster I was hiding behind lifted, and also flew across the alley. I thought I was done, I thought I was next, but it was the Horseman who had come for me. He picked me up, tossed me across his shoulder, and rushed me out of the alley on feet so light it felt like we were flying. Behind me I could hear the Crimson Hunters howling their rage, screaming profanities into the air in our native tongue, but they wouldn’t give chase. Not now.
Not while the Horseman’s magic kept them pinned to the walls and the ground.
They had lost this fight. They had failed this hunt. But if these were the same Crimson Hunters I knew, they would pick themselves back up, regroup, set another trap, and wait for the Horseman to fall into it again—and me along with him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Horseman’s magic had left me dazed, near deaf, and bleeding from my ears. I was conscious the whole ride back to Harrowgate, but I didn’t care to speak, especially considering I couldn’t even hear myself talk. Not that I had anything I thought I could say, anyway.
Nobody questioned the Horseman when he marched into Harrowgate with me tossed over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Nobody asked him where his men were, or for a status report. Nobody asked about the dark stains on his suit jacket. Nobody dared.
I had regained most of my higher brain functions by the time we reached his quarters, so when he put me down, I rounded on him. “Coward,” I hissed.
He ran his hand through his hair, slowly shrugged out of his jacket, and took a deep breath through the nose. “You would call me coward,” he said through his teeth.
“You could’ve killed them, but you ran. Why did you run?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” He marched over to me, and I felt myself back away—only a little bit—before standing my ground against him. “How did you contact them?”
I had to mentally double-take. “How did I… what?”
“They knew where we were. How were you able to get a message to them?”
“You think I did this? You’re out of your fucking mind.”
“Then who else?”
“It was a trap! They killed a mage on your turf, they must’ve known the mighty Horseman would come striding out to meet them, and you did. A better question is, how did you fall for it?”
“I did not fall for a trap. I counted on your expertise to point one out before it sprung, and you didn’t. The failure is yours, which means you’re not as useful as I thought you would be, and that doesn’t bode well for you.”
I squared up to him. “And what are you gonna do about it, tough guy? Threaten to kill me again? Dispose of me? You want to stand there and try to pin this failure of initiative on me rather than take it on the chin like a real man, then fine, but don’t just threaten me, or I’m going to start thinking you’re all bark and no bite.”
The Horseman’s eyes darkened.
Careful, I thought, chastising myself.
Until now, all I’d heard about him were rumors. Rumors about his strength, his resilience, his brutality. I doubted if anyone truly knew what he was capable of, but I did. Tonight, I saw first-hand what he could do. The power he wielded. The rumors weren’t exaggerated. If anything, they made him seem weaker than what he really was.
I was baiting him, pushing his buttons when I knew full well what kind of power he had, but I couldn’t stop myself. Rage fueled me, stoking the flames of my passionate heart. I didn’t think I could back down if I wanted to. This train was on the tracks, and steaming full-speed ahead.
“I lost four of my men tonight,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Four, each of them butchered by your brethren.”
“They are not my brethren,” I snarled, “Your men were butchered because they weren’t trained to defend themselves against Crimson Hunters. I’ve seen the way the guards strut around in here. They walk tall, confident because they know they have their magic and we don’t. They think they’re Gods in here, but out there?” I shook my head. “They have no real combat experience, no real training. You sent them to their deaths. That’s on you.”
&n
bsp; “I sent them to accompany me on an investigation. If I had known there would be hunters there, I would have kept them back.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I hissed, “Just means there are four less Coalition thugs out there hurting real, innocent people.”
The Horseman’s arm pistoned out toward me, his fingers splayed. I reacted, but a fraction of a second too late. He grabbed my throat, spun me around, and pushed me against a wall. I was lucky I was wearing an iron manacle around my neck, otherwise he could’ve crushed my windpipe and I wouldn’t have been able to stop him.
His eyes flashed, not with cold cunning, but with heat. “You call my kind thugs, but you are the real monster here,” he snarled. “Ever since you fiends were unleashed upon the Earth, you have hunted us, murdered us, and even feasted on our flesh and bones. It was your vicious kind who spilled the first drop of mage blood. Your kind who drew the battle lines in the sand. Your kind who created me.”
“I’m not a fiend,” I growled. “And just because they came over here and started killing you doesn’t give you the right to beat, capture, and imprison every single Outsider you come across. That doesn’t make you some kind of righteous crusader of your people, it makes you a scared little bitch, lashing out at those who can’t defend themselves because you’re too afraid to go after the real threat.”
The Horseman’s lip curled and he drew his arm back. I grimaced, anticipating the pain I was about to receive, but he instead punched the section of wall next to my face, putting a fist-sized dent in the solid concrete. My left ear popped, a small cloud of dust escaped into the air, and as he pulled his hand back, some bits of broken concrete fell to the floor.
I opened my eyes and focused them on his face. “I know you’re used to getting by on intimidating other people with all your strength,” I said, my voice low and sharp as a razor’s edge, “But I’ve survived bigger assholes than you. I’ve even killed a few.”
Night Hunter (The Devil of Harrowgate Book 1) Page 9