Chapter 29 #3
He nodded mutely in agreement as Jake handed him the gun he’d dropped. His eyes glassy with shock as he watched the flaming dragonflies hovering at their shoulders, but he wisely chose not to say anything.
Suddenly Olivia felt a shift in the air as static electricity crackled along her skin, raising the hairs at the back of her neck.
The atmosphere felt impossibly heavy, reeking of ozone and power.
She looked deep into the tree line, her gaze distant, reaching out with her magic.
“He’s casting the circle!” she gasped. “We’re out of time. RUN!”
She darted through the trees, running flat out with the others chasing behind her.
The last of the cool winter sun plummeted below the horizon, bringing with it a blanket of darkness.
She focused on the light ahead, and as the trees began to thin out, she could see the clearing and the hollow at its center.
Burning braziers were set up in a perimeter, about two feet in from the edge of the clearing, creating a smaller circle within it. She could see a hooded figure standing in front of the tree, and a body lying on the ground. Her lungs were burning as she pushed her legs faster.
A hazy, pale light pulsed at the edges of the circle, rising up unevenly from the ground and once completed it would form an impenetrable dome.
Forcing one last burst of speed, she broke out of the trees and leaped over the wall of light that was forming.
She hit the ground on the other side and rolled to absorb the impact, turning just in time to see the edges of the shield meet and form a solid barrier of power with her on one side and the others on the outside.
Theo beat his fist against the transparent wall, but it was no good; he couldn’t reach Olivia.
She turned back to the hooded figure in front of her and pulled herself to her feet.
The figure seemed content to just stand and watch as her gaze dropped down to the man staked out on the cold, snowy ground.
Her mouth fell open in shock. Underneath the dirt and five-day beard, her eyes met the terrified gaze of Thomas Walcott.
He struggled against the huge, cruel looking iron pins that had been driven through his wrists and ankles, pinning him to the hard, frozen ground.
He looked as if he was desperately trying to say something, but she couldn’t understand.
His jaw had obviously been broken, and he could do barely more than make a mournful, moaning sound.
Suddenly he shrieked in agony, his back arching off the ground as his exposed chest began to sizzle and split down the center from his sternum to his navel.
The stench of ozone and dark magic flooded the circle, making her retch.
Biting back the urge to vomit, she turned to stare at the hooded figure in front of her.
There was no time for a binding spell, so with steady hands, she raised her bow, satisfaction flooding her body and driving away the nausea as her flame blazed a bright sapphire.
“No,” she commanded resolutely, even as her voice shook. “As much as I hate him, you’re not taking his life.”
As the figure turned toward her, Olivia heard a familiar voice calling her name.
It was coming from behind her, chilling her down to the bone.
She turned slowly, and her eyes focused on the figure of her father standing on the other side of the circle, trapped behind the wall of magic.
Next to him was the pale-haired man, Davis.
An icy feeling of dread washed over her, locking her muscles as she twisted slowly back to the hooded figure in front of her. If her father wasn’t the killer…
The figure slowly pulled back its hood.
Olivia’s bow suddenly disintegrated, the fiery blue flames tattered, as if torn apart by an unseen wind.
Her legs collapsed beneath her, and her breath rushed out of her lungs.
She could feel her heart pounding in her throat as her mouth went dry, and when she spoke, her voice was barely more than a broken whisper.
“Mom?”
Isabel West was still a stunning woman as she towered over her daughter.
Time had done nothing to diminish the beauty of her face or long dark hair that cascaded from her hood in silken loops.
A raised red burn scar fanned out from her cheekbone in thin, spidery tentacles up into the hairline at her temple, turning a single lock of hair pure white.
Even this did not mar her beauty as she watched Olivia with cold whiskey-colored eyes.
“Hello, Olivia.” Her mother’s voice crushed her heart and clamped her chest in a steel vice. The pain was nearly unbearable.
“No!” she whispered in horror.
Isabel regarded her with fathomless eyes before turning back to Walcott. Once again, his back arched, and his chest began to burn and split further as her magic tore him apart.
His scream of agony seemed to shake Olivia loose, and her lips thinned into a resolute line, her eyes narrowing as she rose to her knees and once again drew her bow, this time aiming directly at her mother.
“I said, you’re not taking him,” she repeated shakily.
Isabel threw her hand out toward Olivia, and she felt the full force of her mother’s power, but it barely nudged her.
It seemed to split and run either side of her, as if something had deflected it.
She watched as her mother’s gaze dipped to the moonstone at her throat, her eyes widening a fraction in surprise.
Then Isabel reached into the fold of her dark cloak.
Olivia didn’t even see the gun until the shot rang out in the stillness of the circle.
She hit the ground with force as the bullet tore through her flesh.
She tried to move, but she was still too stunned.
She tried to drag some oxygen into her lungs, but the breath seemed to be caught in her throat.
Theo roared and smashed his fist against the shield as he saw Olivia thrown to the ground, her blood staining the snow crimson.
Jake’s heart almost stopped as he saw she was not moving, but before he could say anything, he heard a familiar growl behind him.
As he turned, he saw the surrounding forest glow with several pairs of red eyes.
“Theo.” He stashed his gun, knowing it would be no good, and pulled out his knife. “Theo, you can’t help her right now.”
Theo turned and saw the hellhounds as they slowly stalked out of the tree line and shimmered into solid forms.
“What the fuck are those?” Mac’s eyes widened.
“They’re hellhounds,” Theo replied as he passed Mac his gun in addition to his own. “Here, take this. Bullets won’t kill them but will slow them down.” For a moment his gaze met the cool eyes of Charles Connell, but he didn’t have time to worry about him right now as they turned to face the hounds.
One of them leaped straight for him. He raised his arm to protect himself, but it knocked him back and sank its teeth into his forearm, piercing through his coat and his skin.
With a hiss of pain, he brought the knife up and plunged it into the hound’s throat.
It exploded into inky dust in front of his eyes, and the sudden release of his arm a relief.
Another lunged straight for Jake, but he dove and rolled across the snow, bringing his blade up and driving it into the creature’s gut, watching in satisfaction as it detonated in front of him.
Backed up against the shield, Mac emptied his clip at the hound rushing straight for him. Bits of matted fur flew as the bullets bit into its dead flesh. He braced himself for the impact as it lunged, but it suddenly exploded as Theo swung around and buried his knife between its shoulder blades.
Theo glanced across and caught sight of Charles Connell and Davis.
As one hound leaped for Davis, he shimmered, and it passed straight through him as if he were as insubstantial as mist. Davis’ flesh rippled and once again solidified as Charles calmly raised his hand, and with a flicking gesture, the hound exploded.
Jake jumped out of the way as another headed for him, but it caught his jacket and pinned him to the ground on his stomach.
Unable to plunge his knife into it at that angle, he howled in pain as it sank its teeth into the back of his shoulder.
Suddenly the pressure released, and he felt rather than saw the creature explode and black ash rain down on him.
A figure jumped nimbly over him, twisting in midair, and skidding to a halt on the slippery ground. Jake’s mouth fell open.
Deputy Helga Hanson looked down on him with pale blue eyes.
No longer in her bulky police uniform but clad in a form-hugging black, she appeared to look slimmer and willowier than he’d originally thought.
Her long, straight white-blonde hair hung to her waist and caught on the winter wind.
She held a whip made from pure silver energy that pulsed in her hand.
He watched, momentarily stunned, as another hound headed straight for her, but she simply spun the whip over her head and brought it down in a smooth, fluid crack, splitting the creature down the center as it crumbled inwards into a pile of ash.
* * *
Olivia tried desperately to breathe in, unaware of the deathly struggle going on outside the circle. She watched as her mother ripped the heart from Thomas Walcott’s chest, heard him take his last rattling breath, and there was nothing she could do to save him.