“Then sit and eat. I don’t want you swooning with weakness later.”
He grinned and shook his head. “I’ve never swooned in my life, woman.”
“There’s always a first time for—”
“Did you hear that?” he asked, his body going tense and alert.
“It was just the horses.”
Iain lifted his blade and went to the door. “Stay inside. I’ll go check.”
“I’m sure it was nothing,” she said, but the frown marring her smooth brow gave away her concern.
He gave Serena a long look so full of love that it nearly brought Jackie to her knees. She’d never much thought about finding true love. Her education and then her career had been more important. She’d always thought that there would be time for romance later, after she’d accomplished the things she wanted to do with her life. But now, watching this, she began to wonder if her priorities had been all wrong. Not only had she not done what she’d wanted, but she also had no one in her life to love.
“I won’t risk your safety,” said Iain. “Especially not while you’re still vulnerable.”
Serena followed him to the door, peering through the window. Jackie went to the closest window, which was on the adjacent wall. She couldn’t see Iain, but what she did see was several spots of glowing green.
Fear sliced through her and she began to shake. “There are demons out there. Synestryn,” she warned Serena.
Of course, Serena couldn’t hear her, because Jackie wasn’t really here. This was just a memory—a past event from Iain’s life. It had all already happened. She couldn’t do anything to change that. Could she?
Only one way to find out.
Jackie reached right through Serena to get to the doorknob. Her hand passed through the brass knob, too. Holding her breath, she stepped forward and went through the door and was standing outside.
The glowing green eyes had come closer. She could see Iain’s broad back headed toward a barn. He scanned the area, but a wagon was blocking his line of sight.
Jackie raced forward to warn him. She called his name, but he couldn’t hear her. He couldn’t sense her presence.
Finally, Iain went past the wagon, turned, and saw them coming. Serena burst out of the back door, shouting. He saw her and started sprinting back toward her, his face a mask of anger and fear.
“Get back inside!” he yelled.
The demons broke through the brush and came at them, running on all fours. Their powerful legs ate up the distance, sending chunks of dirt and weeds up behind them.
Jackie crouched behind a tree trunk, desperately working to combat her fear.
This wasn’t real. It wasn’t happening. She wasn’t even here.
But Iain was. He made it to the doorway just as the first demon attacked. His sword was raised, his mouth open around a vicious battle cry. He swung down, hacking at the demon’s furry back.
It let out a hissing scream, and black blood splattered out from the wound. Iain kicked the monster away, sending it crashing into the next one behind it. He backed up a couple of steps into the doorway so he could take on the demons one at a time.
There were at least six of them. Their black, furry bodies melted into the dark landscape. It was only when Jackie saw their eyes that she was able to tell how many were truly there.
Iain continued to fight, lopping off the head of one demon while another leaped over its back to go for his head. He ducked just in time, but the demon went sailing though the doorway, into the little farmhouse kitchen.
Where Serena was.
Jackie went racing across the ground to warn her, but by the time she neared, it was too late. The demon was inside and Serena was facing off with it, wielding a sword of her own.
She was fast—faster even than Iain was. There was less power behind her swings and thrusts, but she kept the demon at bay while Iain worked to kill the last two outside.
In the distance, Jackie saw a new set of lights approach and heard the rumbling of something big coming closer. The lights were yellow, not green, and as the sound grew louder, she could just make out the shape of people. Some were on horseback, some were in a wagon.
They were human, and, based on the swords many of them carried, Sentinels. A woman in a pale green gown stood in the back of the wagon as it slowed. In one hand she held a globe of fire. She flung it toward the fight. White fire spilled out over the demons and Iain. It slid off his skin, leaving him untouched, but the demons screamed as their fur ignited.
Iain turned before they’d even finished falling, and charged inside to deal with the demon fighting Serena.
Jackie could see only motion—Iain’s big body moving and flashes of black fur and a pale gingham skirt. She held her breath, walking closer to the house, where at least a dozen people were speaking in hurried voices.
A second later, the demon’s head came flying out through the door and passed through Jackie’s body. She swallowed down a wave of nausea.
Iain came out, his arm around Serena. Her face was pink from exertion, which seemed only to make her even lovelier.
“We’re under attack,” said a man on one of the horses.
“Where did they come from?” asked Iain.
“Everywhere. We need to take shelter here. More are on the way.”
“More Synestryn or more Sentinels?”
“Both,” said the woman in the green dress. “Serena, your mother is doing what she can to slow them down so we could warn you.”
“Come inside,” said Serena.
“There!” shouted another man. “They’re here!”
And they were. Dozens of demons broke from the tree line in the distance and began their charge.
“Inside,” Iain ordered Serena. “Lock the doors and windows.”
“Where are you going?” she asked.
Iain grabbed the reins of a horse and mounted it. He gave her a look of regret. “I shouldn’t have waited.”
“It was my decision.”
“I should have changed your mind. When I get back—”
She nodded. “Yes. Now go, and don’t you dare die.”
Ten men formed a line and held back the advancing horde of demons. Another two stayed behind in the house, along with both women. Jackie watched the battle, unable to believe her eyes. This was the kind of thing that happened in movies, not in real life. And then one of the men fell and three slavering beasts descended on him, tearing his body into pieces. It took all of three seconds, and that’s when Jackie realized that this was not make-believe. This had really happened.
Overhead, a harsh blue light streaked through the air. No one seemed to notice it—they were all too busy fighting. But Jackie saw it.
The light hit the house. She braced herself for some kind of explosion, but none came. A second later, the light bounced back up into the night sky and sprang away, as if it had been attached to a rubber band. It was dimmer as it left.
There were no screams from the house. The outline of the woman in the green dress was easily discernible on the porch. A man stood nearby, watching the far side of the house as if he expected more company.
The men fighting finished off the last of the demons and retreated toward the house. They carried what was left of the dead man with them, their faces grim.
Jackie raced ahead, unable to look at the dismembered parts without feeling sick.
“Do you see any more?” Iain asked the man standing watch.
“Not yet,” answered the woman. “But they’re coming. Gilda just sent me a message that they’re under attack as well. We’re not alone.”
Iain frowned. “Where’s Serena?”
“Inside. She’s safest there.”
Iain pushed past them and went inside. Jackie saw him come to a dead stop. His body became unnaturally still. Then he took a slow, measured step forward and fell to his knees. A low moan of anguish vibrated out of him, getting louder as it went on. Pain echoed in his voice, quieting everyone around.
“Iain?”
Jackie knew how this ended. Serena died. Iain had already told her that much. But he hadn’t expressed how much he’d loved her, or how much her death had hurt him.
She stepped through the crowd, unable to stop herself from getting close to him. She knew she couldn’t comfort him, but she also couldn’t simply stand there and do nothing but listen to his pain.
She saw the fiery mass of curls lying on the floor of the kitchen, next to a small puddle of fabric—the same fabric Serena had been wearing. Both the hair and the fabric had been cut cleanly away, leaving a slight singeing around the edges.
“Where is she?” asked the woman.
“Gone,” said Iain, his voice tight with emotion.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t feel her anymore. There’s just…emptiness where she used to be.”
The group’s faces told Jackie what that meant. Once the shock faded, grief took over. A heavy sadness hung in the air.
“What happened to her?” asked one of the men.
“She went to fight. You know how she is,” said the woman as if trying to convince herself.
“No,” said Iain, rising to his feet. He tucked a lock of hair into his pocket and drew his sword. Gone were his smile and the single dimple she’d seen earlier. All that was left was a cold, dark anger that seemed to snuff the light from his eyes. “She’s dead. They killed her. And now I’m going to make them pay.”
This was the man she recognized—this harder, darker version of Iain. He’d been born that night—the night the woman he loved died.
Sympathy for him gathered inside her chest. He wasn’t the kind of man who would want pity, but it was hard not to feel something for his loss.
She closed her eyes to block out the sight of his suffering, and when she opened them again, she was back inside the truck. Iain’s hand was still tucked inside the waistband of her slacks, and he’d grown even paler.
Jackie had seen enough death for one night. She was not going to witness Iain’s as well. Whatever magic she now had, it was time for her to find it and fix him. Fast.
Chapter 9
The monsters wouldn’t let Beth die. She was so weak, she fluttered in and out of consciousness, sometimes waking to find herself in a different place than when she’d passed out. This time when she woke, there was a brick building towering over her. She could smell garbage nearby, as well as the oily stench of exhaust fumes.
Beth knew what was coming, but she was too tired to be afraid. She simply didn’t care anymore what they did to her as long as they let her die. Maybe this time the thing that fed on her blood would take too much and end it, giving her peace.
She couldn’t remember her life before the caves, before the monsters. It seemed so distant and unreal, she questioned whether it had ever existed outside of her dreams.
A clawed hand gripped her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. She didn’t fight. There was no point in fighting. At first she’d tried, hoping she could get away, and later she’d tried, hoping they’d kill her. Neither had worked, and she only ended up weaker and sicker than before.
Acceptance was easier. Shut down. Go away to a quiet, still place where fear and pain could not reach her.