On the Hunt (Sentinel Wars #3.5)(31)
Author: Gena Showalter

Chapter Three

Neal heard the sound of glass shattering. A second later, a blast of cold air hit him.

Viviana let out a yelp of fear and bumped into his back. "There’s another one," she yelled.

The sgath he’d fought tonight were bigger and stronger than those he’d been fighting for decades. Maybe the things had found a stockpile of steroids or something.

He shoved forward, blade first, lunging to push the sgath back on its one remaining leg. It stumbled and fel in an awkward heap.

Normally, he would have finished the thing off, but apparently there were more urgent matters that needed his attention, like an uninjured sgath going after a defenseless woman.

Neal spun around, tracking Viviana’s position as he moved. Even though he couldn’t see her, he could somehow feel her presence, like sunlight glowing against his skin. She gave off a subtle kind of humming he knew he’d be able to track even if he were blind.

He grabbed her arm and hauled her through the bedroom door into the room with the new sgath. He booted the door between them and the injured sgath closed, hoping for a few seconds to deal with the new threat.

Viviana wielded a crystal lamp like it would actually do some good against the demon, and while he admired her courage, she was just going to get herself killed if she tried to fight it.

Before she could, Neal charged, pulling out all the stops. He let loose all the pain he’d carried for too long, his anger at the time that damn stun gun had stolen from him, and his worry for the woman at his side. Fueled by that rage and fear, his body exploded into motion, going through a series of coordinated, powerful movements he’d practiced more times than he could count.

He met the sgath midcharge and used its momentum against it. His sword sliced deep, sending a thick spray of black blood across the cheery yellow wall paper.

The sgath screamed, but its vocal cords had been severed, and the noise came out as more of a breezy hiss.

The cut was deep, but apparently not deep enough to stop the thing. It opened its jaws and raised its front claws to strike.

Neal was in a bad position, and as the nanoseconds passed in an adrenaline-slowed crawl, he realized he wasn’t going to be able to recover his stance in time to dodge the blow. His flank was unprotected, and in another heartbeat he was going to lose a big chunk of flesh between his ribs and his hip. There wasn’t time to do anything to stop it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a sparkling object fly past. It slammed into the head of the sgath. Crystal prisms erupted into the room, casting pretty rainbows over the sgath’s matted fur.

It reared back in shock, shaking its head as if stunned.

That motion gave Neal enough time to recover and avoid the incoming blow. He took a half step to his right, tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, and shoved it into the sgath’s chin and up into its brain.

It wriggled there for a moment, lashing out blindly before it fell still and silent.

The bedroom door burst open, bouncing off the wall so hard it nearly closed again. Only the hulking form of the injured sgath charging into the room kept it open.

Neal didn’t have time to release his sword, so he hauled the heavy body of the dead sgath along the blade, using it to bat at its own kind. His muscles strained under the added weight, but his blade held strong and solid.

The injured sgath flailed and hit the wall hard.

Neal shoved the dead sgath from his sword with his boot, and wasted no time in finishing off the last threat to Viviana.

He wiped the blood from his blade on the dead sgath’s fur, and turned to the woman.

She was standing in the corner, taking up as little space as possible. She had some kind of ceramic figurine in her gloved hands, clutching it like it might save her life. Her hazel eyes were wide with shock, and her slim body was shaking so hard he could see her silk blouse shimmering with the tiny tremors.

Neal moved to her as he scanned her skin and clothing for signs of blood splatter. He found none.

Keeping his voice calm, he said, "It’s over now, but we need to go."

She didn’t seem to hear him, so he eased the little figurine from her fingers and took her hand.

He could feel her chilled skin, even through the glove, but he’d get her warm soon enough. He just needed to get her out of the house and into his truck so they could avoid any more unexpected guests.

He tugged her forward and she took one stumbling step. Clearly she was still in shock, not that he could blame her. A lot had happened tonight.

But if he didn’t get her out of here, a hell of a lot more was going to happen.

Rather than trying to talk her down, he wrapped his arm around her slim waist and lifted her over the sgath corpses. By the time he set her on her feet at the broken window, she was batting at his hand. "I can walk."

If her legs were as shaky as her voice, she was going to tumble down the fire escape. "I’m sure you can. But it’s icy out there. We’re safer if we stick together."

Neal scanned the alley below and saw no signs of more Synestryn. It was going to have to be good enough.

They went down the steps. He kept a firm grip on her arm in case she froze up or slipped. The last few feet were a bit slow, but they made it down into the alley.

He helped her over a mound of trash, and then he picked up the pace, heading for his truck.

Snow crunched under their feet as they went, and accumulated in their hair.

Viviana was shaking like crazy, and Neal didn’t know if it was more from shock or cold. He slipped his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. She clutched it closed at her throat.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

He waited for the first safe break in the traffic and hurried them across the street, ignoring the horns and outraged shouts from the cars he forced to slow so they wouldn’t hit them.

The lights on his truck flashed as he unlocked the doors. He didn’t bother taking her around to the passenger’s side, but instead opened the driver’s side, lifted her onto the high bench seat, and got in behind her, crowding her so she had to scoot over to make room for him.

The engine started with a deep rumble. He cranked up the heat and leaned over so he could buckle her in. Then he shoved his way into the oncoming traffic, drawing yet more blasts from car horns.

Whatever. He wasn’t in the mood to be a courteous driver. He had more important things to worry about.

Like what the hell he was going to do with her now.

The St. Louis skyline was well behind them when Viviana’s mind finally stopped sputtering and started running again.

She’d been attacked by monsters. Three monsters. Mr. Etan had killed them all to save her.

She turned her head the slightest bit, trying to look at him without appearing like she was. She’d never seen anyone move like that. He was mesmerizing. Brutal grace. Beautiful death.