Hunter (12 page)

Byzant thrust
his index finger into the ring; it fit perfectly, and then lifted
it up to within a centimetre of Corvus's eyeball. The metal glinted
in the dim lights of the hotel suit while the wood was dull,
deadly.

Corvus smelt
the blood. It was a mix of iron, rust and stone. Lecheon blood
always had a tinge of stone; it was a whisper of their home planet.
The wooden nail took up his whole vision. His eyes kept blinking
but it wouldn't disappear. Corvus twisted his head to the side, as
far away from the wooden nail as he could get, but it was no
good.

Byzant moved
in even closer. He wiggled his finger back and forth so that the
nail dipped in close to Corvus's eye and then moved away. Back to
within an inch, and then away again. It was exquisite, infinite
torture, and if Corvus had had the strength or the breath, he would
have cried out. But he didn't.

The sap of
the oak would leak into any wound and kill him within minutes.
There was no weapon more deadly to a lecheon. Even just the sight
of it made Corvus's skin tingle.

The edges of
his eyesight grew darker with every second and the creeping nail
became harder to make out amongst the bright flashing stars. His
eyes drooped shut, this time more from lack of air than a feeble
attempt to avoid the wooden nail.

"Oh no,
you're not getting out of it that easy," Byzant said. He loosened
his weight on Corvus's neck.

Corvus sucked
in a great gulp of air. The cool oxygen poured down his throat and
into his lungs. His chest expanded out in grateful gasps. His
surroundings zoomed back into focus with that first breath. Where
before all he had seen was the wooden nail, and all he could hear
was his own blood desperately hammering ever slower through his
neck, now there was a massive assault on his senses.

The room was
pulsating with commotion. Hands, bodies, and blood flew in all
directions. There was so much noise. It beat at his newly recovered
hearing, pounding away. His eyes flew away from the nail in front
of his face to the wider scene. His coven was being slaughtered.
They were unarmed and unprepared.

Byzant's
coven looked younger, although it was hard to tell with lecheons.
They fought tooth and nail, and they were winning.

Selene was
backed into a corner. Somehow she had managed to acquire one of the
wooden swords. She was swinging it back and forth in front of her.
Her eyes were dark and determined and her mouth was set as she
glared at her attackers.

Two of
Byzant's coven ran in towards her. Corvus recognised them; Andil
and Roan. Andil wore two killer gloves with wooden spikes thrusting
from his knuckles like long claws. Roan wielded a wooden sword
similar to Selene, edged with metal to make cutting
easier.

Roan swung
her sword down at Selene's neck. Selene raised her own sword and
deflected the blow with the dull thud of wood on wood. Meanwhile,
Andil took advantage of the distraction and pressed the advantage.
His fist was raised, ready to punch into Selene's stomach with his
wooden claws.

Selene was
ready. At the same time as deflecting Roan's blow, she lifted her
right knee and thrust out her foot. The side kick caught Andil in
the jaw and he stumbled backwards.

Selene pushed
forward with her sword and Roan's blade slid off to the side.
Selene lifted her own blade and swung it in a wide arc. Roan was
ready. Thud; wood on wood. Roan stepped forward and pushed Selene
back into the corner, limiting her reach.

Roan swung in
an arc designed to remove Selene's head. At the last moment Selene
collapsed, her upper body crumpling to her knees so Roan's sword
sailed straight over her head. Selene burst up. Her shoulders and
head shot up within Roan's reach, along with her sword.

The strength
of her arms combined with the power of her legs sent the wooden
sword straight into Roan's stomach. It plunged through skin, muscle
and organs with a sick squelching sound. Selene bent and ploughed
the shoulder into Roan's chest so that she fell backwards. Selene
kept a firm grip on the blade, wrenching it out of Roan's body and
leaving behind rivers of blood.

Selene
watched until she was sure Roan wouldn't be standing up again, then
she turned to the rest of the battle. Andil was hanging back,
cautious of Selene now that he'd watched one of his companions die
by her hand. He moved his fists back and forth, the claws
menacing.

Corvus ripped
his eyes away from Selene to take stock of the rest of his coven.
He could see at least nine of them dead. He couldn't imagine the
massacre going on in the main room of the suite.

Winton was
holding his own, as was Trevalon. He could see three bodies
belonging to Byzant's coven, plus Roan who Selene had just killed.
It wasn't enough; there were too many of them.

"I've waited
a long time for this," Byzant said, ripping Corvus's attention away
from the rest of his coven. "But there was always someone in the
way, like that arrogant bastard, Selwyn."

"You do know
how to hold a grudge," Corvus hissed. The leach in his mouth
flicked out, leaving a shimmering trail of saliva over his
lips.

"You made it
so easy," Byzant responded. "No matter, now it's my
turn."

"It will
never be your turn. Laticia is dead. You'll never have a chance
with her now."

Byzant's eyes
flashed and he snarled at Corvus. The pressure on Corvus's neck
increased and he again felt his head getting light and his vision
going dark.

"Don't you
dare speak her name," Byzant snarled.

"Why? I've
been screaming it in ecstasy for years," Corvus said with a sneer.
He even managed to force a chuckle up his constricted
throat.

The lecheons
holding his arms weren't distracted. He strained against them, but
their grips remained firm.

"Oh, you'll
pay for that," Byzant growled.

He advanced
the wooden nail towards Corvus's eye. It was an inch away, and then
half, looming closer, edging with infinite slowness. Corvus
imagined the agony it would cause. The wooden tip would slice
through his cornea and plunge into his eyeball. The poison from the
oak sap would pump into the blood around his eye and from there it
would spread to his brain and then on to the rest of his body. His
head would feel it first, agony coursing through his very veins. It
would get more intense the longer the wooden nail stayed in, until
he was overcome with pain and fainted. From there his organs would
seize and he'd die.

The nail was
only a hair's breadth away.

Byzant
grinned and flicked up a smaller wooden blade. He slashed it across
Corvus's cheek.

The pain was
immediate. Tendrils of agony poured through Corvus's face. His jaw
tightened uncontrollably, clenching down onto his tongue and
drawing blood.

Corvus did
the only thing he could think of. He lifted both legs and kicked
forward, slamming into Byzant's stomach. The sudden weight of
Corvus's body made the two younger lecheons lose their hold.
Corvus's arms slid through their hands and he fell free onto the
floor. His tailbone crashed onto the hard ground. Pain shot through
Corvus's spine, but he ignored it.

He grabbed
hold of Byzant's wrist, and used it to pull himself off the floor.
He wrapped his arms around Byzant, turned his hand around, and
thrust the wooden nail into his face. The nail went deep, carving a
hole in Byzant's cheek.

Byzant cried
with agony and lifted both hands to his face in a desperate attempt
to stop the blood.

Corvus was
also bleeding profusely. The gouge was just below his right eye. It
was so close that he could see the blood flowing out of his cheek
when he glanced down. He shook himself and turned his full
attention to Byzant. The two younger lecheons stared with wide-eyed
fear, dancing on the balls of their feet.

Corvus had no
weapons, there was no wood within reach, and daylight was still an
hour away. His head whipped back and forth, searching. Selene
glanced up at him. She was still fending off Andil and his cursed
gloves. She looked at Corvus, looked at Byzant, and nodded. She
drew back and thrust her sword across the bedroom.

It sailed
through the air like a javelin. The blade went over the heads of
the fighting lecheons and straight into Corvus's grip. He smiled
and without wasting time stepped forward and thrust the sword into
Byzant's stomach.

The blade
sunk right in, finding its way between ribs and spinal column.
Byzant seized up and looked at Corvus with a mixture of horror and
confusion. Then the pain set in.

Byzant
screamed and wailed. He fell to his knees and pummelled the carpet.
Tears streamed out of his eyes.

Corvus
sneered down at him and stomped on his flailing hand. The wrist was
locked on the carpet but the fingers continued to tense and relax,
tense and relax. Corvus bent over and grabbed hold of the metal
ring with the deadly nail. He yanked it off of Byzant's finger and
thrust it onto his own. He liked how it felt, powerful.

Byzant's
screams decayed into mewling. Soon he would be dead.

Corvus sprung
back, swinging the sword in a wide arc. It sliced through the necks
of both the young lecheons who had restrained him. Their heads fell
to the ground with solid thunks, leaving pools of blood soaking
into the carpet.

"You chose
the wrong coven," Corvus said to their frozen features, still rigid
with fear.

Corvus stood
straight and surveyed the room. Things still weren't going well for
his coven but that was about to change. He stepped up behind Andil
and thrust the wooden sword into his back. He collapsed just like
Byzant.

There were
three other of Byzant's coven in the bedroom. Corvus made quick
work of them. His feet danced across the floor as he thrust in his
sword, pulled it free, spun, thrust his sword again. Two lecheons
fell to the floor, dying.

The remaining
lecheon looked down at his fallen comrades and then up at Corvus.
He had just enough time to look down at the sword, before it sunk
deep into his belly. Then he collapsed to join his
fellows.

Corvus
marched into the main room of the suit. Selene and Winton were
right behind him. There was more death there. Tiny battles were
being fought across the room and the dead lay scattered about. The
lounge was toppled and it looked as if everything had been
smashed.

It was
moments like these he was thankful that he never paid a security
deposit for any rooms.

There were
fifteen of the other coven still standing and twenty of his. He
liked those odds.

"I'll give
you one chance," Corvus shouted. His voice boomed across the melee
and the room fell still. Eyes stared at him in fear and awe. "Leave
now, take your dead, and you will be allowed to continue. Choose to
fight and I'll see that every last one of you dies."

Corvus took
the time to glare at each of his enemies in turn. They turned to
jelly under his gaze. He considered killing them all. It would be
cleaner and leave no loose ends, but the last thing the lecheon
species needed were more civil wars. The other alternative was to
take them into his coven, but he couldn't trust them; he may as
well stab himself in the back and be done with it.

"In case it
helps your decision," Corvus said, holding up his index finger with
the ring and claw, "Byzant is dead. He'll be leading you no
more."

That was the
release they needed. As one, the enemy coven went to work. They
collected up their fallen allies and disappeared through the doors
and windows as quickly as they had come. They probably had rooms
above and below this one, Corvus thought. He cursed the hotel for
its pervading perfume, which was now far less appealing because
without that he would have smelled the other coven long before the
attack.

He looked at
the remains of his coven. They were scratched and exhausted. Many
of them were panting heavily or wincing at their wounds. He felt a
pain in his chest for those who had fallen. He lowered his wooden
sword and rested the tip into the carpet.

"We can't
stay here," he said. "The authorities will be here
soon."

"Where shall
we go?" asked Winton.

"I have an
idea," Corvus said. "It won't be easy, but we will
prevail."

"If we wanted
easy we would still be living on Sythar and eating animal blood for
every meal," said Selene.

Corvus nodded
at her, acknowledging both her words and her role in saving his
life. She was proving to be a resourceful and loyal
second.

"First, we
have to get out of here," said Corvus.

The others
nodded and they too began to gather up their dead. At least, Corvus
thought, this way he could blame Pamielle's death on the other
coven. Only he and Selene need know. There was no sense stirring up
trouble at a time like this.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN