Dreams of a Dark Warrior (37 page)

his own blade. He sheathed the sword, then col ected Regin against his chest.

Still unconscious.
How injured was she?
Has to be internal bleeding from the wall falling.
He kept reminding himself that she’d live. How many times had he cursed an immortal’s resilience?

“Have you cal ed for boarding yet?” the fey asked. “I’m a medal ion member, and I’d prefer a vegetarian

dinner.”

Declan turned toward the exit with Regin, saying over his shoulder, “Bul shite. We’re ful up.” He’d let

Brandr aboard because he owed the man—but no more of these miscreats.

The fey’s voice grew menacing. “How shal this play out, Blademan?”

He heard the unmistakable buzz of a cocked charge thrower and turned slowly. “You’ve only got so

many shots with that thing.”

“Which is why I didn’t utilize it against the Wendigos. In any case, al I need is one to end you.”

One shot would, in fact, electrocute him.

“Think, Chase,” she continued, “if we meet other creatures—perhaps some of the many who want you

dead—we can help you fight.”

“She might have a point,” Brandr said. “How many more Wendigos do you have here?”

“Dozens.”

Brandr swore under his breath. “And that being from the outside, that Dorada, brought even more.

What about ghouls?”

“Hundreds.”

“Then we need her,” Brandr said. “And the boy.”

“We need the charge thrower and nothing more.” She wasn’t budging. They wasted time. Biting out an

oath, he said, “We’ve got minutes to reach the plane before this island
disappears
. If any of you fal on the way, I’l step over your corpses.” With that, Declan sprinted out of the warehouse, leading them down

a smoke-fil ed service hal , then out into the blustery night.

Rain pelted them, but Regin remained unconscious as they sped toward the airstrip. The smal er

runway there was an older alternate to the current one where transport planes touched down, unloaded,

and immediately took off.

Yet something caught his attention far on the other side of the facility grounds. It was Vincente, running hand-in-hand with that succubus. He was shirtless; she was no longer wasting from hunger—

Just feet behind them, a vampire stalked closer, sword raised.

“Vincente!” Declan yel ed a warning, but he couldn’t be heard over the storm.

The vampire swung; at the last second, the succubus shoved Vincente out of the way and took the hit

in her arm. Vincente whirled around and shot the leech in the face with a combat shotgun then scooped

up his bleeding female.

Declan’s mind could hardly wrap around this.
The succubus took the hit for a mortal.

“Vincente!” he yel ed again.

The guard’s head jerked up this time. They met eyes. Declan waved him over, but Vincente shook his

head. When Declan pointed to his watch—
place is about to blow, boyo
—the man nodded, then hastened

toward the forest.

“God speed, Vincente,” Declan said, continuing on. In the distance, he caught sight of the hangar’s

tattered wind sock flapping in the storm. He muttered to Regin, “Almost there.” So far, they’d had no

encounters with other creatures—at least, none that wanted a fight.

As they closed in, the fey asked, “Where’s the airport?”

“You’re lookin’ at it.”

“Is that a hangar or a barn? I’m confused.”

The wide entrance doors were padlocked. Cradling Regin in one arm, he used his free hand to wrench

free the chain, surprising even himself with his strength. Then he and Brandr shoved open the doors.

Inside was an old aerial reconnaissance craft, a weathered six-seater prop plane.

Brandr raised his brows. “
That
is the plane?”

Declan unlatched the Cessna’s door, hurrying up the steps. “It’l get us to where we’re going.” He laid

Regin along the back bench, then climbed into the cockpit.

“Is there no other way off this rock?”

There was one, a ship in a berth on the west side of the island. It was even more of a long shot than

this and impossible to reach in time anyway. “You want on the plane or not?”

Brandr fol owed, taking the copilot’s seat. “Beggars can’t be choosers, huh?”

The fey and the halfling dashed in behind him. The halfling’s pack took up a seat.

Natalya reached for the pul -up door, but hesitated. “Wel , wel , look who’s come cal ing.”

Lothaire stood just inside the hangar. He had two MK 17s strapped over his shoulders and a bloody

sword in hand. His clothing was riddled with burn holes. Bites and gashes covered his exposed skin.

Natalya asked, “How’d you escape al the vampires out for your head?”

In a monotone voice, Lothaire stated, “I’m that good.”

She aimed her charge thrower. “Maybe, but you’re not getting on this plane, vampire.”

Thad peered out. “Let him on, Nat!”

Brandr and Declan both twisted back in their seats, bel owing:

“No’ a feckin’ chance.”

“No fucking way.”

Lothaire gave her weapon a withering glance, then canted his head sharply. “I do not care to board this

plane, as it happens. We’l talk when you come back down.” With that, he turned and strode outside.

Come back down? “Crazy Horde vampires,” Declan muttered as he fired up the engines on each side

of the cockpit. When both started and the propel ers began turning, Declan hid his relief.

Another miracle? The fuel gauge read ful . But God only knew how long that fuel had been sitting.

“How many miles is it to the mainland?” Natalya asked. She was sitting on Thad’s lap in the sole

remaining seat.

“Eight hundred.”

Brandr gave a laugh. “This thing won’t make it that far!”

“There’s an alternate island site nearby.” Basical y a dirt runway and a camp. “We’l figure out what to

do there.” He glanced down at his watch. The incendiaries would detonate in two minutes.

“We’ve got more company!” Thad said, face glued to the port-side window. “Wendigos on the runway.”

No time for a systems check. Declan pushed in the throttle, and the plane lumbered forward out of the

hangar.

He taxied down the runway, forced to shave off as much length as he dared to avoid the nearing throng

of Wendigos.

To take off, he had to reach a minimum of eighty miles per hour. Eighty, with cold engines, a short run-

way, and gusting winds. At the far end of the track, a stand of fir trees whipped in unison, like a moving wal .
Have to clear them.

Brakes engaged, he shoved the throttle in, RPMs spiking, engines rumbling. Over his shoulder, he

snapped, “The shite in your pack better be real y important, kid.”

“It total y is!”

With a curse, Declan released the brakes, and they surged forward. Gaining speed, gaining …

At any moment he expected to feel the plane rocked on its arse from a bomb’s blast wave.

Natalya said, “Those trees are coming up awful y fast, Blademan.”

Brandr yel ed, “Chase, bal s to the wal !”

“I’m throttle down,” he grated.

Fifty miles per hour. Sixty.

At the last possible second, he heaved back on the yoke. The nose shot up, the tail sandbagging.

“Come on, come on.”
He held his breath. …

The wheels scraped the tops of the trees. They flew clear.

When they’d reached a minimum safe altitude, Declan’s eyes briefly closed. “We’re away.”

The three conscious passengers exhaled with relief.

“We made it! This has to be the coolest thing ever,” the halfling said. “To outrun those Wendigos?” His

expression was animated. “Never been in a plane before!”

Oh, yes, you have,
Declan thought, just as Natalya said, “Lad, you must have been.” She spoke to

Thad but glared at Declan as she said, “You were flown here when the magister’s men kidnapped you—

an eighteen-year-old boy—away from your mother and gram and wholesome Texas life.”

The halfling turned back to the window. “Miss ’em.” Then he absently told Natalya, “I just turned

seventeen.”

Natalya’s face screwed up.
“Oh.”

“Hey, Nat, take a look at the place.”

Declan gazed back at the facility. Or what was left of it.
“Jaysus.”

In the center was a mass of stone, a new mountain towering among the flames. Cement blocks swirled

above the ruins. Even in the pouring rain, flames climbed high, like a picture of hel .

My life’s work.

The fey murmured, “You reap what you sow, Blade-man.”

She was right. As of this night, al the work he’d done—al the effort and discipline—had netted him no

home, no work, no life. Not a friend in the world after Webb’s betrayal.

And it was a betrayal. Declan saw that clearly now.
He knew what Regin is to me. My female.
And yet Webb had hurt her in unthinkable ways.

Declan gazed back at Regin, laid out across the bench. What would he do now? Where to go? Al he

knew was that he wanted to be near her—and she’d never want to be with him.

“I thought the island was going to disappear,” Brandr said.

Declan glanced at his watch. The self-destruct was now nine minutes overdue. “It was supposed to

have.” He surveyed the landscape below. Not a single detonation. Something must have jammed them.

For better or il , he suspected there’d be no blasts tonight.

“What’s that?” Brandr pointed ahead.

Declan faced forward. Squinting, he wiped the windshield with his sleeve. A cloud of dark shapes

hovered in their path. He slowed his speed, descending to avoid them, but they dropped down as wel .

The answer hit him just as Brandr said, “Winged demons.”

Dozens of them. They attacked in a swarm, their claws shredded down the sides of the fuselage,

across the wings.

Declan shoved down the yoke in a sudden dive, trying to shake them free. The stal alarm on engine

one blared.

Brandr clamped the dash as the plane plummeted. “What do they want?”

Natalya said, “My guess is the magister’s head on a platter!”

Engine one rumbled, smoked, then died. The starboard wing was trashed, the other barely holding on.

Engine two roared, straining to keep the plane at altitude.

The yoke vibrated wildly as Declan fought to maneuver back toward the runway. “We’re goin’ down.”

Though trees grew at one end of the runway, a sheer rock face capped the other.

Have to slow our speed.
There was nothing else to be done, no steering a plane this disabled.

Brandr gazed at him, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. Because a mortal probably wouldn’t make it.

And no man could die with more regrets than Declan. He would never have the chance to make things

right with Regin. Would never kiss her or claim her. Too ashamed of his scars to ever reveal them. Too

cowardly to risk her rejection.

Should’ve taken the chance, Dekko.
He almost wanted to believe he’d come back in another life.

Over the screaming engine, Brandr yel ed, “I’m sorry, Blademan. Looks like you’re about to check out.

Again.”

Declan yel ed back, “Just get her off this island!”
If
she survived the crash. He glanced back at her.

She was battered, appearing so delicate, not the larger-than-life Valkyrie he was used to. How much

more could her body take? “Do it within six days!” Before the Order struck the final blow to this island.

“I almost believe you give a shit about her!”

“Protect her, berserker,” Declan said. “Vow it!”

“I already have.” With that, Brandr climbed out of the cockpit into the very back to sit beside Regin,

gathering her body up in his arms, clasping her close. To Natalya, he said, “Come, female, I can buffer

you too.”

The fey climbed back, then reached for Thad, pul ing him close as wel .

“Natalya?” The boy’s voice broke.

“You’l be fine, my lad,” she assured him, but her face was drawn with fear. “If I had a pound for every

plane crash I’ve been in …”

As the ground rushed closer, Declan’s heart began pumping blood, thundering in his ears.

But he stil heard Brandr murmur, “Til we meet again, Aidan.”

THIRTY-SIX

L
othaire stood in the pouring rain watching as the plane came screaming back toward the runway.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d ordered the winged Volar demons to bring it to the ground

gently
. This touchdown would prove anything but.

If Chase died, al his knowledge of the ring would expire with him. Lothaire had ransacked his office, but couldn’t find it—

The craft landed bel y first on the last quarter of the track, the initial impact ripping the fuselage in half, severing the tail from the rest of the plane. The cockpit half didn’t slow, barreling toward a wal of rock.