I’d had some dark thoughts in my twenty years of life, some deep fears, but never in the worst of them had I imagined this kind of horror—where William and his entire family, Hector included, would fall in their efforts to protect me. I wasn’t worth one Hayward’s life, let alone seven.
“Let me go.” I struggled in Paul’s arms, not able to break through them. He was strong, impossibly strong. It seemed Immortality and him really did go well together.
“It certainly is our lucky night,” Troy said, stalling my efforts. “We come for three and we end up with ten. John will be ever so pleased. He’s always said Immortality would be so much better without the Haywards a part of it. We’ll make his wish a reality in about five minutes.” His wide smile gleamed in the moonlight as his attention turned to William, the smile managing to stretch. “It doesn’t look like you were able to tame her. I’d say she’s only grown wilder,” Troy said, his eyes shifting all about me in the I-need-to-take-a-shower-I-feel-so-dirty way. “But don’t worry. I’m more than up to the task.” He ran his thumbs over his belt, pulsing his h*ps my direction.
William roared, sounding more animal than man, charging straight for Troy.
Troy snapped his fingers and forty torches crashed to the ground as the line of goliaths charged forward with destruction on their faces. The ground shook like an earthquake as they bore down upon us, but the eight bodies surrounding Paul and me responded in equal, charging into the army of dark-suited men. Bodies clashed, one of John’s to one of ours, the remaining thirty intent upon another target.
In a unified leap, the men tackled William, piling over him in a haystack of limbs and aggression. There wasn’t a piece of him exposed, only dozens of balled fists moving as fast as pistons.
“Let me go,” I demanded, struggling against Paul’s hold. fontNow! I have to help him.”
The Haywards were barraging towards the pile of bodies and I was useless. I was the most deadly thing here and I’d been sidelined.
Right before his brothers, the fastest of them, reached him, an explosion of men erupted from the pile. William stood at the epicenter of the explosion, like Poseidon rising from the sea, looking unhurt and invincible. I knew from personal experience he was neither.
There was one moment of calm—as everyone gaped wide-eyed at William’s impossible strength—and then the flood gates opened.
The tossed-aside men righted themselves, pouncing on the nearest Hayward. The majority of Troy’s men concentrated their efforts on William, Patrick, and Hector, although the remaining five didn’t have it easy. Nathanial and Joseph stayed strategically positioned, trying to keep Abigail and Cora in the center, but the girls were managing to hold their own.
It didn’t seem right that someone five foot nothing like Cora could throw down with men twice her size and Abigail’s courtesan-like ways were definitely not aligning with the woman I saw before me, moving as powerfully and stealth-like as a panther.
Even with the Hayward’s and Hector’s obvious skill, the number of men Troy had brought along couldn’t be overcome. One would be sent flailing into the outskirts to only be replaced by two more. It was like trying to damn the Amazon with a few twigs.
“If you don’t let me go right now,” I warned, watching William take a fist to his jaw “I’m never going to speak to you again.”
Paul let out an unimpressed sounding whistle, pulling me further from the warzone. “What, are we back in junior high or something?”
“Dang it, Paul,” I yelled, stomping down on his foot. He didn’t even flinch. “Quit treating like I’m some damsel in distress.”
“I’m supposed to protect you and that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” he said, but before I could argue back, a body torpedoed towards us. The man crashed into us with an impact that sent us flying backwards, suspended in the air long enough to feel like we were flying. We barraged through William’s tool shed, splitting wood and garden tools before thudding to the ground. I glanced over at Paul who had a look on his face that made me think of a cartoon character with stars orbiting their head. He was fine, save for a few cuts and scraps that would heal in a few minutes time.
The man who’d charged us marched through the entryway Paul and I had just created in the shed. He headed straight for Paul who was still trying to shake away the stars.
I flipped off my back, grabbing for the shovel laying beside me on the way up. I lunged in front of Paul, gripping the shovel like a bat, and swung for the fences. The man’s midsection took the hit, sending him flying backwards. He somersaulted through the air, crashing to the ground several yards away—no need to worry about him anytime soon.
“Damsel in distress?” I tossed the shovel to the side, giving Paul a hand up.
“More like damsel of destruction.” He gave his head a final shake. “So you can hold your own in a fight. That totally turns me on,” he said, sweeping his pants clean. “But you’re not going out there in the middle of that cluster f-bomb.”
“Watch me.” I shot him a glare, before gunning for the exit.
“Not a chance.” His arms ringed around me, wrestling me back into the shed.
“I’m warning you, Paul Lowe,” I snarled, twisting back and forth like a wild animal.
“Oooo, I’m so scared.”
“Final warning.” I stopped scrambling about in his arms, ready to deliver the next one of two actions, all contingent on Paul.
“And this is my final warning to you. Behave or—”
His words were vanquished by my fist. His grip had loosened just enough when I’d stopped struggling that I’d had just enough wiggle room to bring my right arm around into his jaw.
“Crap, Bryn.” His arms left me, probably moving to examine his face which I’d hit no harder than a Mortal-strength punch, but I didn’t stop to turn around to apologize or make sure his face, or ego, weren’t too damaged.
I flipped through the hole in the shed, breaking into warp speed one stride later, with only one destination in mind. I heard Paul’s footfalls rush after me, but I wasn’t worried he’d get to me before I got to William.
He was surrounded by eight men, fending them off with strategically placed strikes and ducks timed right before a hit could connect, when I leapt over the circle of men around him. I pressed my back into his, at least able to protect half of him, as I drove my palm into the neck of the nearest man. He sailed through a window opening of William’s house, which had been fully consumed by fire and smoke. Nothing of it would be left standing in an hour.
“Thanks for saving me some,” I said, barely tilting my head back to him. He froze, his back going rigid against mine, as if just realizing I’d joined the party. One of his hands grabbed mine, in the most natural kind of way. There was destruction surrounding us and this touch—his touch—faded it all away. It was a moment like this that made dying the next moment acceptable.
I noticed two men charging for me, but I didn’t respond. That would have required me removing my hand from William’s and if it meant dying to keep it planted in his, I was just fine with that.
The men were a lunge away from crushing me and my only response was a squeeze of William’s hand, my inaudible good-bye. The men’s heads suddenly collided together before they were tossed to the side, Paul taking their spot in front of me. “If we survive this, you are so in trouble.”
“What about protecting her did I not make clear?” William hollered back to Paul, pulling his hand away.
“This girl’s got the meanest right hook I’ve ever met,” Paul answered, reaching for his jaw.
“Just wait until you feel mine,” William grumbled, his back twitching from whatever beating he was dealing out.
“Boys,” I said, in the middle of thrusting my forearm into the throat of the gorilla moving man gunning for me. “Can we do this later?”
“Gladly,” William answered, heaving a man over both our shoulders.
“Can’t wait,” Paul said, ducking as a refrigerator-sized boulder sailed at his head.
Two men, the giants of these monster-sized men sent for us, appeared in front of me. One cocked his neck to the side, the other popped his knuckles—a tad melodramatic if you ask me—before they launched towards me.
Still backed up against me, I wound my elbows through William’s. Needing no command, he bent forward, just enough so that both my legs were in position to punch into the breastplates of the charging Goliaths. My legs surged forward, my feet connecting with their intended targets. The sound of splitting bone was the only resistance the duo put up as they sailed away from us into the dark forest.
Two down, a seeming thousand more to go.
William shifted me back to the ground, just as another typhoon of men came down upon us. It appeared every last member of Troy’s army had diverged on the three of us and, with their swollen numbers, they managed to separate the three of us quickly.
I heard William call out for me, but I was so deep in concentration attempting to block the endless flood of arms and legs coming at me, I couldn’t conjure up a response. I was moving as fast as my Immortal body was capable of, but it wasn’t enough. Every second that went by, I felt more and more strikes make contact with my body.
Something pounded against my head, dulling the roar of screams around me to a muffled echo, and, for the first time since I’d been Immortal, blurred my sight so that colors and shapes were impossible to make out. I crashed to the ground, sounding like a ton of cinder blocks.
“Bryn!” William screamed, but I was so messed up, I couldn’t tell which direction his voice was coming from.
“I was hoping to kill two birds with that stone,” Troy’s voice was discernable and I guessed he was the hazy dark shape filling my field of vision. “Paul moved faster than you, but that’s alright. This was the birdy I wanted anyways.” Fingers stroked through my hair a couple of times.
I don’t know if it was a surge of adrenaline that helped normalize my senses, or perhaps Immortality was just that efficient in keeping us well-oiled machines, but my vision and hearing returned at almost the same time. Troy’s jilted smile was the first thing I saw, right before I heard William call out for me again.
This time I was able to make out which direction it was coming from. I looked to the side, managing to catch a glimpse of him through a sliver-sized opening between the dozens of legs around me.
He wasn’t fighting anymore, he was trying to shove his way through the men beating at him like he was a punching bag. I only saw his face for a second before it was swallowed by the ocean of arms and legs clubbing him to the ground.
“Move her out of here,” Troy instructed, aligning himself in front of my gaze. I twisted onto my side, going to crawl on my stomach to William if need be, but before I squirmed an inch, I was hoisted onto the shoulder of someone. My head thudded against his back, bouncing against it every other step he took in his sprint away from the fight.