Immune Page 22


Two quick thrusts pin cushioned her body, but I would have to take her head if I wanted to end this. The grimace on her face froze and she stumbled, her fingers clasping her wounds, then the grimace shifted to a smile as she lifted her good hand up, gripping something. I took a deep breath and the cold air sliced through me, dropping me to my knees. I fumbled for the pendant, the fire opal, and found nothing but empty air. There, dangling in Jensen’s hand, was the pendant, the leather strap broken.

“Now, you think you are so smart, coming here to kill me; to rescue your friends.” Jensen grinned from ear to ear, her teeth looking even worse as a smile than a snarl. Where I’d run her through with my sword gaped at me, two flapping mouths dripping blood, giving me a peek into her innards. But it was if she wasn’t hurt, her anger obviously fueling her. “And now you are caught, a prisoner of your pride as they were prisoners of theirs.”

“Shit,” I mumbled, my lips already going numb as I knelt on the hard stone, the icy blast of winter striking me down. Sure, the venom might not kill me, but Faris was right, the cold damn well could. If nothing else, the cold gave Jensen the edge she needed. Doran hadn’t been kidding, with the fire opal gone, the frosted cold sliced through me, a hundred times worse than before.

Laughter echoed around us, and I lifted my eyes to see Jensen, her head thrown back, howling her pleasure.

Teeth chattering, I gave her a thumbs up. “Qu . . . ick think . . . ing, for a runt . . . like . . . you.”

Free once more, the demon venom surged through me. In seconds, icicles formed along the tips of my eyelashes and I struggled to move closer to the fire, my mind icing up as fast as my body.

The crackle of the fire drew me closer and I crawled toward it, knowing it was the only chance I had. The flagstones around the fire pit were hot to the touch, and though I knew they would burn me, I laid on them stomach down, soaking in the heat. With the fire burning hot, I might have a chance. Maybe.

Jensen was suddenly standing over me, one of my dropped swords in her hand. “You have really no idea, do you, of what’s going on the world? So focused on your ‘mission’ that you are blind to everything else.”

Her words barely made sense to me; the fog of cold that had settled on me was swiftly stealing what was left of my capacities. “Fuck . . . you.”

She crouched over me, laying my own sword against my neck, and I was unable to even shift away from her, the blade drawing a line of blood from my skin. The heat from the fire was helping, but not enough to do anything but think—certainly not to retaliate.

Jensen stood, smoothed her hair with her mangled hand, blood dripping from the stumps of her fingertips. “I will call him, and he will come for you and reward me. What a pleasure it will be to see you chained like the bitch you are. Then I will have my reward. But I think, perhaps, he won’t mind if you have been injured, after all. He did only say you must be alive.” Her eyes glinted with a feral madness I’d been stupid to underestimate. “And you did attack me.”

He? What he? I had a feeling I already knew, but I was so not in the mood for a showdown with Faris, certainly not in this state. Not after the last time we met in person. I had to keep her from calling him, keep her focused on me.

Letting my muscles relax, my left hand slid downward into the fire pit, brushing up against the edge of a burning log, the last quarter of it untouched by the flames. I only had to get my hands on the opal, and I would be able to deal again. My fingers tightened around the warm wood and I curled my upper body around my belly, hiding my hand as best I could.

“I have something . . . for . . . you.” I kept my voice soft and meek. Okay, as soft and meek as I could manage.

The Daywalker glided toward me, once more bending over my body, my sword tip pressing between my shoulder blades. It was a chance I was willing to take.

“What is it, little Tracker?”

I fought the cold. It spooled out of my chest, shutting down my ability to move, to think, to act. But there wouldn’t be another chance like this.

With a scream of anger, and a burst of energy I knew I wouldn’t be able to repeat, I flung the burning log upward, smashing Jensen in the face. The tip of my sword started to penetrate my back, and then was pinned down as I rolled.

She screamed, her hands on her face, the opal slipping from her fingers. It bounced once and rolled away from us both. Shit, shit, shit!

While Jensen screamed, the flames eating away at her face, I struggled to my knees, my hands turning to lumps of ice as I crawled away from the fire pit. Three feet away from the glimmering stone fingers bit into my legs, stopping me in my pitiful tracks.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Jensen said, her voice sloppy, face partially melted like a wax candle gone awry. Her head snapped down and she buried her fangs into my calf.

Screaming, I booted her in the head with my other leg, fear overcoming the cold for a split second. I had a vision of her taking my blood and, with it, the demon venom, creating a monster I knew I would have no chance of stopping. I couldn’t let that happen. Her teeth unlatched and she reared her head for another blow. I lurched forward, dragging her with me, my fingers circling around the opal.

Heat rushed through me, freeing my muscles from the bindings of the venom, pushing it back. I kicked her in the face, then scrambled to my feet, my body once more my own.

Opal gripped in one hand, I scooped my sword off the ground, took two strides and was standing over Jensen.

“You picked the wrong girl to bite.” I brought the sword down in a perfect arc, taking Jensen’s head in a shower of blood and gristle.

With my boot, I shoved her body into the fire, a whoosh of flames shooting up to the sky as they engulfed her body. Her head, I left out. Breathing hard, I gripped the opal, wondering if I could hug Doran and kick his ass at the same time. I didn’t know if it was possible, but I was going to try.

14

“Ryleeeee!” Alex came galloping into the square, bowling into my legs, grabbing at me with a frantic need. I pushed him off me, gently, but with a firm insistence.

“Hey, buddy.” I cleaned off my sword and slid it back into its sheath, then picked up my other one and did the same. O’Shea was right behind the werewolf, sword bared, eyes taking in the scene in one sweep. He didn’t lower his blade though, instead keeping it bared and ready.

“Adamson?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” My leg ached where Jensen bit me, my back stung where my blade had bit in, and my body was still humming with the transition from freezing cold to hot, but she was dead and I wasn’t. Good all around.

O’Shea made a move as if to hug me and I stiffened up. “I said I’m okay.”

“You’ve got blood on your back.” He spun me around for a better look. “It doesn’t look too deep.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Now he did hug me, from behind where I couldn’t get away, the warmth of his body easing through mine. I relaxed into him for a brief second, and then shot a look at Alex who just sat there, tongue lolling, eyes wide and innocent as ever. He waved at me, but made no move as if he were upset. What had happened while I was locked in with the Daywalker?

As if reading my mind, O’Shea whispered in my ear. “Alex and I had a chat.”

I stiffened up. “You didn’t hurt him, I hope.” O’Shea let go of me, going right back to business.

“Let’s go.”

It didn’t take long to cue up Eagle and Eve, bringing them down to scoop up the remaining Shamans and Alex.

“Rylee, I can take you all if you like. I can pick up a five hundred pound cow, so a few puny humans are nothing.”

I shook my head. “O’Shea and I will wait here. I want to do a walkthrough of this place anyway,” I said, catching O’Shea’s nod out the corner of my eye.

They left in a flurry of wings and wind. O’Shea and I would have about an hour to see what we could find. I was cutting it close with the fire opal, but it would be worth it if we could find out what the hell Jensen was really up to. And if Faris was involved.

I let him lead the way for once, my body sore, and to be honest, something was different about him. I couldn’t pin it down, but I wanted to watch him, see if I could figure it out.

Barely pausing in the threshold of the doorway, O’Shea strode into the main building, the one Jensen had stepped out of.

“Be careful. She might have had other traps, or minions working for her.”

“Minions?”

“I like the sound of it better than slaves.”

We both went silent as we made our way deeper into the adobe building. The walls were thick, and the air no warmer than outside. More than that, the rooms were empty of anything. No furnishings, paintings. It was like it had been abandoned years ago. My skin prickled with awareness as I took a deep breath, the scent of incense long burnt out lingering in the air.

“I’m not seeing anything,” O’Shea said, stopping in the middle of the fourth room we’d come to.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything here.” I let my eyes slide to half mast, focusing on my second sight. The world around me flickered and I could see there were a few things hidden from view. We worked our way back through the rooms we’d already come through, and though there was an item here or there, there was nothing of substance until we were back to the main room. A large hand hewn table dominated the middle of the room, an oversized, leather bound book lying in the middle of it.

I picked the book up and let go of my second sight, pulling the book with me across to the seen world.

“What the . . . ?” O’Shea asked, coming to peer over my shoulder.

It looked like a journal. I flipped through the pages, reading the flowing script with only a little difficulty.

“She was trying to become a vampire in truth,” I said, turning the pages, the story becoming clearer the more I read. “She was going to use the power from the Shamans to transition from Daywalker to vampire. And she was bound to serve . . .” I didn’t say Faris’ name out loud. But there it was on the paper. Jensen had been one of his.

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