Crimson Wind (16 page)

They spread out as they approached, circling wide. Max hurried faster. Twenty yards more, and she and Holt would be clear. The trouble was, the beasts had to be following the scent of blood; nothing Alexander could do would distract them.

“Jump with him,” he ordered. “Break the blood trail.”

To his surprise, she did not argue. Instead, she collected herself and leaped. She flew up into the air like she’d been thrown. Ahead, he could see the southern edge of the town of Weed, the highway lined with cars, and dazed-looking people wandering about, staring toward the erupting mountain. Between that old reality and this was a shimmering curtain, like heat waves rising off desert sands.

Something grabbed his foot. He jerked it back and look down. A hairy green hand with pointed black nails slid back beneath a clump of purple-headed clover. The plant twitched and stilled as if the creature waited. More clover spread away in an apron of rich green. How many of the little beasts hid there, waiting to swarm some blundering idiot? He glanced over his shoulder. The noose of gray hunger was closing on him. He could see the snarling lips and yellow teeth of the hunting beasts and hear their soft panting breaths.

His grip tightened on the spear. With the other hand, he drew his .45. He edged sideways until he reached a smooth boulder humping up out of the ground. He leaped on top of it. It was barely five feet across and no more than two feet high, but it gave him the advantage of high ground.

He knew he could not hold them off long. He scanned the terrain again. The clover field narrowed considerably about thirty yards away. If he could kill some of the gray beasts, he could toss them into the clover and perhaps distract the hidden hunters. He could then make his escape.

He hefted the spear and tensed as the circle of beasts closed around his perch. There did not seem to be a pack leader. The animals paced in a narrowing spiral, watching Alexander with white eyes. Their pupils were slitted like a cat’s. He shifted his weight, and six of them instantly leaped at him. Almost as one, they dug into the ground and lunged up, teeth snapping.

Alexander swung the rowan spear, smashing the ribs of one and knocking it into two others. They fell in a snarling tangle, biting and tearing at one another. He shot a fourth one, ducking down as the fifth came at his chest. He twisted and thrust his shoulder under it, flinging the creature off. Hot streaks flared as its claws raked down his back. The last one fastened on his right forearm. He heard his bones snapping, and he dropped his gun. He thrust the spear deep into the animal’s stomach. Black blood spouted over his hand and sprayed his legs. The beast yelped and dropped away.

The other gray beasts ignored their fallen comrades and watched Alexander. Drool dripped from their jaws. They continued to circle. His back prickled, and he turned, trying to keep an eye on those behind him. His right hand hung at his side, next to useless. Another rush, and there was a good chance he would go down. He had to move.

He backed up to the edge of the boulder and lunged for the clover. He landed on something that wriggled and screamed. Alexander did not miss a beat. He ran flat out for the edge of the enchantment.

Things grabbed his ankles, and something hitched up his right thigh, digging its claws in as he ran.

Alexander reached down, snatched the creature, and flung it away. Its body felt like bones inside a moist sack of jelly. More fastened to his legs and clambered up over one another, biting and clawing. They gibbered and shrieked. He was forced to slow down as he knocked them away.

Paws slammed against his back. He felt the snap of teeth in the air by his neck. He fell, thrusting himself instantly back to his feet before the green creatures could swarm him. A single gray beast faced him, gathering itself. Behind it, green hunters leaped and ran through the clover. Their faces were a paler shade of green than their bodies. Their eyes were obsidian beads, and their features looked squashed. Their mouths cut their faces in half and were filled with several rows of black serrated teeth. There had to be hundreds of them.

They overran the gray beast, pulling it down. It snapped and fought, but there were too many of the little green monsters. Alexander smashed at those on his legs with the rowan spear and flung another away as it clambered up his stomach. He started running again. It was not far now.

Then Max was in front of him. She was carrying a tire iron in each hand. She pounded at the hunters gnawing on his legs. They fell away, and she smashed at those that followed. Another minute later, they ran out of the enchantment, back onto the parched dirt of the valley.

Alexander ran a few steps, then turned around. Several green hunters followed but quickly scrabbled back under the cover of their clover when Max started at them, the tire irons swinging menacingly.

She turned to look at Alexander. Her arms were slimed to the elbows with lime-green blood, and her legs had been bitten and clawed. She grinned at him as she scrutinized him from head to toe.

“That was fun.” She wrinkled her nose, dropping the tire irons and shaking her hands off. “Could use a shower, though. And some clothes. You too. Those pants are about to fall off.”

Alexander looked down at himself. His jeans were slashed to ribbons, and the skin beneath was in no better shape. A memory struck him. He reached into his pockets. His right hand was weak but already healing. He found his cell phone in one pocket, and in the other was the Amengohr amulet. He gripped it, feeling the hard curve biting into his fingers. Thank the spirits, he hadn’t lost it.

“Alexander?” Max asked sharply. Her expression had gone hard, and she was looking wildly about. “Where did you go?”

He pulled the amulet out of his pocket and stared in wonder. He had thought it did not work. He had not gone invisible when Valery had given it to him. The difference, he realized, was blood. He had inadvertently smeared a layer of his own blood over the amulet when he pulled it out of his pocket.

“Alexander!”

Max was sounding furious now. And she was using his name. Not Slick. That made him smile. He was tempted to stay silent to see what she would do, but he doubted he would survive when she realized he was playing possum.

“Right here,” he said.

“Where?”

“I have not moved.” He scuffed his foot in the dirt to show where he was.

“The amulet? It works?” Her eyes were wide.

It was the first time he had ever seen her surprised out of her normal rigid control. She looked almost like a child.

“So it seems.”

“That means you can be out in the sun.” Her expression went from shock to longing to a kind of shuttered blankness.

He scowled. What twisty little thoughts were breeding in that thick skull of hers? He wished he could break it open and find out.

“Handy piece of jewelry, that,” she said without any inflection in her voice. “What are you going to do with it?”

His wonder at the idea of having the opportunity to walk out in the sunlight again for the first time in more than a hundred years melted away. What
did
he plan to do with it? More important, what did
she
think he planned? Because she had clearly drawn a conclusion, and it was not in his favor.

“I do not know,” he said honestly. In fact, he had no idea. So much of what he wanted depended on Max and Giselle.

“Come on. Surely you’ve got something in mind.” Her voice had grown colder.

His jaw jutted. “Obviously, you think I do. Tell me, so I can be in on the secret, too.”

“I’m not going to stand here and talk to thin air,” she said, and started to move away.

He shoved the amulet into his rear pocket. “I wish to hell you would stop walking away from me,” he said, grasping her arm and yanking her around.

“Hands off, Slick.”

“A minute ago, you called me Alexander.”

“Did I? Can’t remember.”

She twisted her arm, and his fingers slipped on the green blood coating her skin. He clamped tighter. “If we are going to argue, stand still and argue,” he seethed through gritted teeth. “But quit acting like you will leave me behind. It is not going to happen. Get used to it.”

She jerked out of his grasp but stood her ground. “What’s your problem, Slick?”

“You are pissed off at me.”

“Am I?”

“Tell me why before I pry it out of you with a crowbar.”

“All right. How’s this for a little truth? It just occurred to me how convenient it is for you that the amulet shows up right now. I mean, you’re not bound to any covenstead. It’s your shot at freedom—the freedom you claim you don’t even want. I’m beginning to think maybe the gentleman doth protest too much. Why else would you want it? But then again, the other possibility is that you plan to use it to take Prime from me. You could drag me out into the sun, and that would be the end of it. So now I have to wonder, are you playing me? Have you been playing me all along? Is that what all this business between us has really been about?”

Alexander stared, unable to find words. Could she really think that? Of course, he had thought about walking away—living among humans. But it was not what he wanted. Nor did he want Prime, no matter what Magpie and her prophecy said.

“Wow. Silence of the guilty? I guess we’re done, then.”

She started away again, but he caught both her arms.

“That is not the way it is. You know it.”

“Do I?”

“You damned well should. I have not lied to you.” He forced the words out. His anger was white-hot. He shoved her away from him to keep himself from hitting her. “If this is the way you want it, then, fine.”

“So we’re done, then?”

She was giving him that thousand-yard stare again—cold and lifeless. It was on the tip of his tongue to agree when realization struck him. She went inside to that cold place when she could not handle what she was feeling. Which meant— She felt something for him, enough to pull away inside. Triumph surged inside him. He smiled.

“Oh, no. We are not done. Not by a long shot. We made a good team out there fighting, and we make a good team when we are not. But you want obstacles—you want to make it impossible for us to be together. If not Giselle, then your Blades or Scooter. Now this amulet. Just when I think you are going to give in to what you clearly want as much as I do, you turn into an ice bitch and start throwing down roadblocks.”

“Wow. You’re whining like a kid who just lost his puppy. You need to go get a pair of big-boy pants on.”

He stepped closer. “And that—a mouth like a rusty saw when you want to dodge the subject. You will not get rid of me that way, either.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, scraping her teeth over her bottom lip. She took a breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t want to get rid of you, Slick,” she said grudgingly.

She looked like she was about to say more, but Holt’s voice interrupted her. Alexander could have happily slit his throat.

“You two had better get moving. Sun will be up soon. You need to find clothes and shelter.”

Max turned gratefully, and Alexander glowered at him. Holt was walking on his own with the help of a cane. He was pale and gaunt, his eyes sunken and bruised-looking. He looked like he had lost about twenty pounds. He had scrounged a white button-up shirt that was still creased from the package and a pair of dark blue Wranglers. He limped stiffly, holding his hand pressed against his ribs. It glowed white, the hex marks brilliant blue against his tanned skin.

Alexander stared in awe. The bastard was healing himself. Most witches could not even manage minor self-healing. But then, Holt was a mage, and ordinary witch rules did not apply to them.

“You’re going to live,” Max observed.

“Thanks to the two of you,” he said with a grimace. “Last person on earth I want to owe is Alexander.”

“Since you do, leave Valery alone. Let her go.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Holt looked down, rubbing his chin with his knuckles. He looked back up. “I’ll protect her with my life,” he said, and it sounded like a vow. “That’s going to have to be enough for you.” He turned to Max without waiting for Alexander’s reaction. “If you ever need anything, call me.”

And then he did the impossible. Blue and white sparks whirled in the air, obscuring him from view. A moment later, they drifted to the ground. Holt was gone. All that was left was a folded piece of white paper. Alexander picked it up. On it was a phone number scrawled boldly in black ink. He handed it to Max.

“This is yours, I believe.”

She took at it and shook her head. “He knows how to make an exit, anyway.”

“So should we. You need clothes, and we have to find shelter from the sun.”

“Wrong, Slick. We need clothes and a vehicle and a way to keep me out of the sun. You have the amulet. We aren’t going to hang around waiting for dark before we skip town.”

She started walking, and he caught up with her. They circled around the people gathered along the freeway and climbed a broad, dusty, tree-covered hill. Below them, Weed curled in a comma shape around the hill.

Alexander looked back the way they had come. The enchantment’s edge followed a ragged path, rising and falling over the foothills to the west. It zigzagged back and forth, cutting south around Mount Eddy. Shasta continued to spew forth wild magic, but it was streaming entirely south now, as if pushed by a sharp wind.

“What will it all turn into?” Max said. “All those people down in the central valley—what is going to happen to them?”

“The Guardians want to rid the earth of most of humanity. Undoubtedly, that is why the enchanted area is so full of hungry predators. Most people will not survive.” He took a slow breath. “There will be more of this. All over the world. How many vortexes did Scooter sense? Thirty?”

“All those people standing around down there have no idea. They should be running for their lives.”

“To where? Where can they go that is safe?”

She looked at him, her expression granite, and then she started down the hill into Weed. Once again, he overtook her, not letting her leave him behind. He wondered if this was how it would always be.