Dying Wish

Page 13

Her journey to find a normal life hadn’t gotten her very far, but she could hardly ask Iain to do more for her. As it was, he looked like he was barely hanging on, struggling to deal with the pain she’d inadvertently caused him.
They were only a few hours away from Dabyr. She would let him take her back and find someone else—someone she would not touch. Ever.
Jackie rummaged in her suitcase for a pair of gloves and a scarf. It wasn’t nearly cold enough to need them, but as soon as Iain was ready, she’d wrap herself up tight so there were no more accidents.
Once she had them ready to go, she settled down at the table by the window and opened her laptop. Joseph hadn’t even hesitated when she’d asked for one. He’d had it delivered within an hour of her request. Of course he hadn’t known then that she’d intended to use it to find herself a new place to live and a job.
She pulled up her résumé to work on it while she waited for Iain to finish meditating. The two-year gap in her work history was painfully obvious, glaring at her from the screen. She didn’t know how she was going to explain her disappearance without sounding like a lunatic.
Her only option was to lie, which she hated doing. She’d have to invent an aunt and say that she’d left work to care for her during a prolonged illness. If anyone checked into her story, she’d be found out, but she didn’t know what other choice she had. She wasn’t about to claim she’d been in rehab or sick herself, for fear of not getting hired, and there was no way she could say she’d been abducted by demons and kept alive for her blood.
With a sigh of frustration, she closed the laptop and laid her head down on her folded arms.
She hadn’t really thought through all the details yet, but the more she did, the more problems she ran into. Her foreclosed house was a huge black spot on her credit. What if she couldn’t even find a place to live? And if she did find a home, how was she going to protect herself from monsters every time she got a paper cut?
A faint sound made her lift her head. She looked at Iain, but he was motionless except for the slow expansion of his ribs as he breathed.
She heard it again—a soft scratching sound. Coming from outside.
Fear made her freeze in place. The last time she’d left Dabyr, she’d been attacked by clawed monsters who’d tried to scratch through a car to get to her. If it hadn’t been for a magical barrier Andra had erected to keep them out, she would have died that night.
The sound came again, louder this time. “Iain,” she said, but it came out as little more than a shaky whisper of sound.
She heard another noise. A thump against the glass, only a foot from her elbow.
Jackie yelped and jumped from her chair, scrambling away from the glass. “Iain.” His name was louder this time and filled with the same panic skittering around in her chest.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn his head. Then there was a flash of motion—a blur of skin and steel—as he leaped toward her.
She continued to back up as he placed himself between her and the danger.
“It’s just a bird or something,” she said, trying to convince herself.
“Let’s find out.” He jerked back the curtains and right there, not ten feet away, were two glowing green eyes set in the head of a monster.
It stood on two legs, nearly as tall as Iain. Its body was fish-belly pale, covered in random patches of black fur. Pointed teeth filled its mouth, and fluorescent yellow saliva wet the front of its body. The thing was heavily muscled, its jaw sloping down to its thick shoulders, totally forgoing the need for a neck. Each finger was tipped with a black claw at least two inches long, and it used them to scrape at the glass.
Its eyes—disturbingly human—landed on her, and a sickly green light flared within them, as if it recognized her.
“That’s no bird,” said Iain. “We need to get you out of here.”
Fear had a tight hold on her. She’d been fighting it ever since her rescue, but her system seemed to go back to that terrified state so easily, locking up her body so that she couldn’t act.
“Now, Jackie!” bellowed Iain. “Move!”
His command cut through her fear, and she scrambled toward the door, grabbing her purse and suitcase handle.
“Leave it. There’s nothing in there worth your life.”
She let go of the suitcase, but her purse was already strapped to her body. Besides, that’s where she carried her gun, and she wasn’t about to leave her only weapon behind.
He drew the curtains shut and raced across the room, grabbing a leather jacket from the top of his bag. She was already at the door, fumbling with the locks, failing to open them.
“Move your hands. I can’t risk touching them right now.”
Right. The pain could incapacitate him, leaving her to defend herself.
What a laughable thought that was.
She did as he asked, moving out of the way so he could open the door. A moment later, he peeked out into the hall. “It’s clear. We’re going to run to the exit at the end of the hall, okay? Head straight for my truck. Don’t look back.” He pulled the keys from his jeans pocket and dangled them. “If anything happens to me, leave without me. Don’t stop driving until you’re back at Dabyr.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” she said, as much for her own benefit as his.
“Take the keys. Put this jacket on. It will protect you.”
“You take it. You’re the one who has to stay alive to fight.”
“Do what I say, and we’ll both be fine. I saw only one of them. It’s probably just a scout. I won’t even break a sweat taking it out.”
Jackie took the keys and the jacket, being careful not to touch his skin.
He gave her a satisfied nod. “Stay close.”
He didn’t need to tell her twice.
Murak was not going to fail his father, one of the most powerful Synestryn lords on the continent, the way his brother had. The way Zillah had. His father, Raygh, was not known for his tolerance or his mercy, so when Raygh ordered Murak to hunt down Zillah’s stolen humans and bring them back, Murak jumped to obey. Two of the females were carrying Synestryn offspring, and the theft of their young could not be tolerated.
Murak drove down the narrow street, blending easily among the humans. Unlike his ancestors, he looked more human than monster, with only a few exceptions that the proper clothing hid. The cattle moving past him, sitting behind him at a stoplight, were none the wiser, completely oblivious to the fact that soon all of them would be either food or slaves.
The stink of their bodies burned his nose, but he drew deeply of the night air, seeking for some sign of a trail.
This backwater town was the closest one to where the captives had escaped. Certainly one of them had to be here, reeking of fear. And if some brave little soul wasn’t afraid, the distinct scent of Synestryn blood would be seeping out of their pores.
Find them and I’ll grant you all of Zillah’s holdings.
That’s what Murak’s father had promised, and there was nothing more he wanted than to expand his domain and fill it with his offspring and enough food to stuff their bellies. Zillah’s holdings were expansive, and a good start for Murak’s kingdom.
He’d already dispatched his hunters, giving them the items he’d recovered from the caves. Clothing, blankets, hair—whatever he could find that still held the scent of those who’d been stolen. Between their efforts and his, it wouldn’t be long before they’d reclaimed their property.
The cattle seemed to be converging on the center of town. He’d passed a school there earlier, and seen the sign outside lit up, streaming with balloons and announcing tonight’s special performance. Based on the rush of traffic, a large segment of the population would be in attendance.
Perfect. He could slip in, check for escaped prisoners within the large gathering, and begin recapturing what Zillah had lost. He didn’t need to find everyone, just the humans in which they’d invested precious time and blood. It took years to create a vessel for their offspring, and Zillah’s mistake was going to be Murak’s gain.
He entered the school, paid for his ticket, and went to the back of the auditorium. The curtains were drawn and the cattle milled around, greeting one another with smiles and conversation. No one paid any attention to him, which suited him fine.
He pulled their stench into his lungs, seeking for a hint of prey.
A young human rushed by, stirring the air.
There. Right there was the scent of the blood of his kind. Sweet and metallic.
He rose from his seat and followed the trail. It led to a young girl in the second row. She was skinny and pale, with bruises under her eyes from lack of sleep. Much of her hair had fallen out, and what was left was pulled back with a cheerful yellow bow.
Murak summoned his power and concealed himself from all those present. He moved closer to the child, seeing the bony knees protruding out from under her skirt. She was ten or twelve, perhaps, and nearly complete. Years of work and gallons of their blood had gone into her so that she could perform her duties. Another year of alterations and they’d be able to breed her.
The child began to tremble, as if she sensed his presence. She looked around and reached for the hand of her father, sitting beside her. The man wrapped his arm around her and looked at his wife with sunken eyes filled with despair.
“We should go,” he said. “She’s not ready to be out in a crowd yet.”
The woman nodded sadly and stood, gathering her purse.
Murak moved out of the way, letting them pass. It was a simple matter to follow them home. Once the girl was alone, he’d take back what was rightfully his.
Chapter 8
Iain’s body was still throbbing with the pain of losing Jackie’s touch. So much that it was making him slow. He could feel the slight lag in his thought processes—only a split second, but definitely enough to make him hesitate and die in a fight.
Whatever that thing out there was, he’d never seen anything like it before. It was new, and he wasn’t looking forward to finding out what surprises it had in store.
He bolted down the hallway, keeping tabs on the steady pounding of Jackie’s feet behind him. She stayed close as he slammed out through the door and into the cold night air.
His truck was about two hundred feet away. There were only a few cars in the parking lot of the run-down hotel, and with any luck, the inhabitants weren’t spending any time looking out of their windows.
Iain moved fast, keeping watch around them, searching for signs that there were any more Synestryn where that one had come from. The area was dark, quiet. There was little around except for a restaurant and gas station on the far side of the interstate.
He heard a noise to his left and spun around to face it. The demon was crouched next to a bush in a decorative landscaping bed. Its eyes flared bright as it spotted them, and it let out a wet, gurgling hiss. Yellow saliva cascaded from its mouth, sliding down onto its chest.
“Keep moving,” said Iain. “I’ll hold him off.”
To her credit, she didn’t waste time asking questions. She sprinted toward the truck, leaving Iain in a much better position to kill this thing without worrying about her getting hurt in the process.