Read Dying Wish: A Novel of the Sentinel Wars Online

Authors: Shannon K. Butcher

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #General, #Paranormal, #Fiction

Dying Wish: A Novel of the Sentinel Wars (12 page)

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.

Iain took a firm grip on his sword. The monster within him beat at its cage, demanding to be set free. It liked killing. It was good at it, but with Jackie so close, he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk not being able to shove all that rage and violence back to where it belonged. It was better to stay in control. Do this with frigid efficiency of logic, rather than the searing release of anger.

He lifted his blade and moved in. The demon sprang toward him, claws extended. He ordered his body to move, but the slight lag caused by the pain made him clumsy. Instead of stepping cleanly out of the way the instant he should have, he hesitated, ducking at the last second.

One claw parted his hair as the demon passed overhead. Iain felt no pain, no sting of poison entering his system, but he couldn’t take any chances with Jackie only feet away. He needed this thing dead. Now.

Iain spun around and followed the demon up, slicing a shallow cut on one of its arms. It howled in pain and then spat at Iain.

With his chest bare and no face shield or armor of any kind, Iain was a sitting duck for a poisoned attack. And the thing knew it.

He lifted his blade, letting it take the brunt of the barrage of glowing yellow demon spit. Some of it landed on Iain’s arm.

He whipped his sword to discharge the poison onto the ground, and moved forward, closing the gap between them. This thing was clearly going to keep spitting from a distance if Iain let him, so he angled his body,
forcing the demon to circle back toward the wall where it would be pinned.

It wasn’t smart enough to figure out what Iain was doing, but that hardly mattered. The poison on his arm began to tingle, telling him that he was running out of time. It hadn’t entered his bloodstream yet, but it was sinking through his skin too fast for him to do this slowly and methodically.

As soon as the angle was right, Iain leaped forward and went in for a low strike, cutting across the demon’s thigh.

It screamed in pain and crumpled down to hold its leg.

To his left, a set of curtains parted, letting the light inside spill out. The humans inside couldn’t see the demon from where they were, but that noise was going to bring company.

Letting humans witness a fight was a risky thing. Knowing that Synestryn existed could open them up to attack. Most humans didn’t possess enough ancient blood for the demons to bother them, but those that did—the blooded humans—were at risk of being captured or killed for food.

Iain was honor-bound to protect all humans to the best of his ability, which meant ending this fight now.

While the demon was crouched, Iain moved in for the kill. Before he could cross the small distance, the beast gobbled up some of the landscaping stones and spat them at Iain.

He dodged.

“Behind you!” shouted Jackie.

Too late, Iain spun to face the new threat. Another demon charged, barreling toward him with claws extended and yellow teeth bared.

The first demon now had access to his unprotected back.

Iain maneuvered to get himself out of the vulnerable
flanked position even as he prepared to meet the demon’s charge. At the last possible second, he stepped sideways, dropping down into a spinning arc. His sword slashed through the beast’s face, lopping off the top of its head.

Black blood, glowing spit, and bits of brain splattered onto the wall of the hotel with a wet slap. The whole thing had taken only seconds, but in that time, the first demon had moved closer—close enough to be a real threat.

Its cheeks bulged, barely containing what it held in its mouth.

Iain moved in for the kill before it was too late. The demon drew in a huge breath and propelled soggy chunks of gravel from its mouth. Glowing yellow rock sailed toward him.

He jerked, midstride, dodging as much of the rock as he could, but some of it grazed his chest and arm. A cold burn hit his skin, and a second later, a wave of dizziness slapped him out of nowhere as the poison entered his system. He hadn’t meant to lose control, but it was too late for that.

Rage detonated inside him as he realized what had happened. He let out a bellow loud enough to shake the glass and charged.

His first attack was sloppy. He was slower than normal, the pain and poison weighing down his limbs. It took him a moment to realize that he’d misjudged the distance and swiped through thin air. He stumbled, struggling to regain his balance. His vision extended, tunneling out, like he was looking backward through binoculars. Everything seemed too far away.

But he knew the demon was there, laughing at him. He just had to get in one good hit and take it down—make it scream as it died.

Iain swung blindly, cutting his way forward toward the demon, who appeared to be a tiny speck on the horizon.
The thing moved, as if dodging a blow, and Iain was sure he had to have nearly hit it.

He swiped again, and the drag on the tip of his blade told him he’d made contact with something. The demon? The building? A bush? He couldn’t be sure.

Sweat trickled down his brow and into his eyes, burning them. His body began to shake, and his sword felt heavy. He forced his arms to lift it up, but the effort made him tremble.

The demon hissed in anger, and the sound got closer as he did so. Iain swung again, tracking that sound.

A cold, insidious weakness started to spread from his chest into his limbs. His muscles began to tighten, clenching down involuntarily. He didn’t have much time until his body gave out, and before it did, he had to kill the demon so it couldn’t touch Jackie.

Just the thought was enough to make the monster inside of him howl in rage. His blood pumped faster, sending poison careening through his veins. He was out of time. He had to finish this.

Tires squealed nearby. Jackie was leaving. She was safe.

His monster hissed at her loss, demanding that his legs move so he could go after her. She was
his
. He needed her. How dare she leave him?

Iain tried to take back control before his inner monster did something irrevocable. And then his knee buckled, and he realized that the demon’s poison prevented him from doing anything.

Jackie was gone. He couldn’t go after her. All he could do now was finish off the last Synestryn so she stayed safe.

The demon seemed so far away now it was merely a glowing speck of light in the darkness. Or maybe that was a landscape light. Iain could no longer be sure. He kept his sword moving, spinning and cutting so that the thing couldn’t get close without taking a hit.

“Hold still,” ordered Jackie, her tone imperial. She was close. Too close.

His monster cackled in victory, staking a claim on her as the spoils of battle. Iain tried to beat the beast back, but he was weak now, growing weaker by the second.

A gunshot went off, so loud it had to have been only a few feet away.

“Run, damn it!” he shouted.

The gun barked, over and over.

Iain’s legs went numb, and he feared that if he took even one more step, he’d topple to the ground.

“It’s dead,” she said, her voice a thin strand of panic.

“I need to cut off its head. Just to be sure.” He fell over, feeling nothing but the sudden stop of his body as it hit the ground.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Poison. Don’t worry about that. Take my sword and cut off its head. If you don’t, it will follow you.”

Her voice was unsteady, uncertain. “I don’t think I can do that.”

In the distance, he heard the faintest scream of a police siren. “Cops are coming. Hurry.”

“They’ll see it. I need to drag it into the woods.”

“Don’t touch it!” If she had so much as a hangnail, she could end up just like him, blind and vulnerable.

“Someone saw us through their window. We need to go. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to touch you.”

“Leave me here. There’s no time.” His words slurred together.

“Shut up, you contrary bastard. I’m doing this.”

Rather than waste his breath, he did what he could to help her lug his contrary ass into the truck. He wasn’t sure exactly how she managed the feat. Then again, he kept fading in and out of awareness, so he wasn’t sure about much of anything right now.

All he knew was that he was freezing, and being tugged into the black.

His monster screamed in rage, demanding that Iain grab her and hold her so she couldn’t run away. He didn’t bother wasting effort trying to fight it. His body was too weak for him to cooperate, effectively thwarting his monster’s plans.

“Call for help,” he mumbled. “Joseph.” He could barely hear himself over the hissing rage within him.

And then suddenly, it stopped. Everything went quiet, as if she’d somehow lulled the monster to sleep.

“Hush. I’m driving with only one hand. I don’t have another for a phone right now.”

He vaguely wondered what she was doing with her other hand, but after a few seconds of grueling thought, he gave up the effort. The struggle to remain conscious was taking too much of a toll, sucking away his strength. But he couldn’t black out and leave her alone. She’d be completely unprotected.

The cold numbness crept up his neck. “Call Joseph,” he insisted, before he could no longer speak. The words were slurred, and he hoped she could understand them.

“Don’t you dare die,” she ordered him.

He could no longer move his mouth. He couldn’t even feel it. A few seconds later, he couldn’t feel anything at all.

Iain was dying.

Jackie tried not to panic. She kept reminding herself that she’d been through worse and come out alive. She could do this, too. It was just one small crisis—one she would overcome, getting Iain the help he needed before it was too late. Unfortunately, that help was going to have to come to her. She wasn’t going to make it back to Dabyr in time. Iain was deteriorating too fast.

She’d passed three police cars driving on the far side of the highway since leaving the hotel, and she didn’t think getting pulled over with a loaded weapon that had just been used to kill a monster would do her job prospects
much good. Oh, and the unconscious, bleeding, half-naked man sprawled across the seat wouldn’t help, either. She didn’t think the police would accept her explanation that she needed to keep touching him so he wouldn’t be in pain. She couldn’t even bear to think what might happen if they pulled her away from him right now, after all he’d been through tonight.

She kept the speedometer in control, searching for a place to stop and call for help.

Iain had quit talking, which wasn’t a good sign. Her hand was on his thick wrist, and she could feel his pulse beating against her fingers. That steady beat was the only reason she hadn’t completely flipped out. But his pulse had slowed more with each passing minute. Another bad sign.

She saw a rest stop up ahead and took the exit. A trucker was parked on one side of the facilities, so Jackie went to a spot as far away from him as she could. She locked the doors, hoping that if any more monsters came their way, that would hold them off long enough for her to flee.

Iain’s skin was frigid, so she turned up the heat as far as it would go. Being careful not to break contact with his skin, she fished her cell phone from her pocket.

He’d told her to call Joseph, but she really didn’t want to hear a lecture right now. She was already dealing with too much. Her fingers scrolled through the contacts, and landed on the name of the only person she could stomach calling.

Helen answered on the first ring. “How’s Iain?”

“Poisoned.”

“What?” gasped Helen. “What happened?”

“Demons found us in our hotel room. Iain got poisoned. I don’t know how. I didn’t see it. I was running for the truck, but he said that’s what happened.”

“How long ago did he get poisoned?”

“Maybe five, ten minutes. It’s hard to say. I’m a little freaked-out here—not really watching the clock.”

Helen’s tone was confident, giving Jackie a bit of relief. “I’ll send help, but you need to do what you can to slow the poison.”

“How?”

“Magic.”

“I don’t have any. I keep telling you that.”

“You have to take his luceria.”

Jackie closed her eyes, seeking for some reason to deny her sister’s advice. “I can’t do that.”

“He could die, Jackie. I know you don’t want that.”

“Of course I don’t, but this is too much to ask.”

“There’s no time to argue,” said Helen. “It doesn’t have to be permanent. All you have to do is promise him you’ll wear it for a little while. Tap into his power and hold off the poison until help arrives. The Sanguinar can patch him up, good as new.”

“You really think this is possible.”

“I know it is. You can do this.”

There really was no other choice. Iain was dying as she spoke. His pulse had slowed even more since she’d stopped the truck. “Okay. Tell me what I need to do. And then send help. I may not be able to do anything for him.”

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