Bound by Shadow (25 page)

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Authors: Anna Windsor

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Fantasy

BOOK: Bound by Shadow
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She barely got to her feet before the Asmodai hurled a dirt-boulder straight at her midsection. Riana swung sideways. The huge clod smashed into a headstone and knocked it flat.

Before the Asmodai could form another ball of dirt, she hurled a surge of her own earth energy at the grass below the thing’s feet.

A section of sod jerked sideways like a yanked tablecloth, and the beast crashed down, half catching itself with its only arm. Riana ran forward, kicked its arm from beneath it, and plunged both daggers into its chest as it fell on its back.

Missed!

She straddled the thing, hating the writhing feel of its body between her thighs. With all her strength, she yanked one dagger free, but the other stayed trapped. She tried for it again, but the Asmodai’s arm swung up and buffeted her shoulder.

She fell sideways and rolled into a headstone, her back taking the brunt of the blow. Air rushed out of her lungs, and pain crushed her chest. She fought to move, to breathe, but couldn’t even roll to the side as the Asmodai lumbered toward her.

Here’s where I die.

She clenched her teeth. Sweat broke out across her face as she tried to gather the breath to yell.

No sound came out. She couldn’t make a squeak.

Like a troll from some fairy story, the Asmodai raised its clublike fist and swung down.

Riana braced for the fatal blow.

Dirt landed on her head.

Rocks scratched Riana’s face and filthy mud clogged her nose, mouth, and eyes. But her head was still in one piece, still on her shoulders. She clawed the junk out of her mouth as her ability to breathe and move returned. The minute she got her eyes wiped, she saw the arrow dead center in the pile of dead Asmodai dirt.

Merilee. Thank the Goddess.

And Cynda’s foul mouth was at full bore, so she was okay, too, for now.

Riana struggled to her feet, retrieved her second dagger, and plunged back into the fray. Three Asmodai were still standing.

Dani crippled her Asmodai by cutting off its leg, then ducked to allow a dart to bury itself in the demon’s head. It fell to dirt, clothes and all, and she joined Maura, who was scorching the shirt off an Asmodai. The thing was missing both ears and a hand. Riana ran to Cynda, who dropped to her knees, swung her sword, and clipped off her Asmodai’s foot.

“Down!” Riana yelled.

Cynda dropped face-first on the ground.

Heart hammering, jaw clenched, Riana jumped over Cynda and planted her daggers dead on target, one in the thing’s chest, the other between its eyes. On her way back to the ground, she ripped off a piece of its shirt, hoping the piece of cloth would stay intact. No such luck. She had dirt in her hand by the time her feet touched the ground.

For a few seconds, she just stood there panting and aching, let the foul-smelling earth trickle between her fingers.

“I got one,” Cynda wheezed as she got up. “And you got two.”

Riana twisted her neck to stretch out some of the growing stiffness. “Just one,” she corrected as Dani and Maura finished off the sixth monster. “Merilee shot one right before it almost killed me.”

“What the hell was
this
all about?” Maura kicked a pile of Asmodai dirt as she walked toward them, Dani following close behind. The right sleeve of her leather jumpsuit had been burned away. “Asmodai joining forces with dick-weeds like Herbert? Give me a break!”

Cynda’s shoulders were bare from her own smoldering emotions. She shook her head as she dusted dirt off her face and chest. “Got me. I’m gonna enjoy opening the channels for his skinny ass. I think he should go to Motherhouse Russia. He’s about the size of a good wolf bone.”

As Shell came jogging across the cemetery, Riana and Dani began repairing damage to the grass and resetting headstones. Riana used a directed burst of her earth energy to reposition the carpet of grass and sod she had moved during the attack. From the corner of her eye, she saw Merilee clear the fence around the cemetery and start across the graveyard toward them. In a few moments, she had forced one of Herbert’s arms around her neck, and she was helping Cynda lift him.

Harsh blasts of gunfire tore through the night.

Pain slammed into Riana’s left arm and right side. She dropped to her knees, gasping, grabbing for the throbbing wounds as more bullets sang past her ears. She fell forward and lifted her good arm over her head.

Her mind spun out of control. She felt the earth moving, then willed herself to stop it. Then she felt herself moving, heard yelling. Dragging. Somebody dragging her. Dirt in her face. Up, high in the air. Then down. Her feet stumbling across pavement.

“Move, move, move!” Cynda was screaming, from somewhere. Beside her? Behind her? Who was pulling her arms?

She couldn’t get a whole breath. The air was so cold. She was cold. But Cynda and Merilee were pushing her, pulling her, shoving her down into the graveyard dirt, then jerking her up again. Riana tried to focus on making her feet move.

More shots rang out. Bullets struck stone with loud cracks. Dirt exploded just in front of Riana and her triad. Cynda spun away from Riana and fell, cursing. Merilee pushed Riana from behind and she moved forward. Her arm and side hurt so bad she couldn’t see straight. Instinct made her concentrate on the lodged bullets and give the metal a strong yank with her earth energy.

Goddess! That hurt worse!

Riana screamed from the pain.

More shots. More bullets.

Where were they coming from? North? West?

The road. Yes. Somewhere on the street in front of the graveyard.

“There!” Riana tried to point as another burst of gunfire made her duck.

Shell fell backward, holding her leg.

Riana heard Dani shouting to Shell and Maura, then a long wall of fire flared just outside the graveyard fence.

Smoke stung Riana’s eyes. Tires squealed. Cars honked. People started to shout.

Dani and Maura made the fence and scaled it in almost one motion. The fire would keep them out of view of traffic and the shooters, but only for a few seconds.

“Get to the Jeep!” Merilee shouted as she turned back to help Cynda. Riana stumbled, slammed into the fence, grabbed it, and tried to pull herself up.

She felt like her body was tearing into pieces at the sites of her bullet wounds.

Cynda was up again, limping, using Merilee for a crutch. The two of them charged toward Riana and the metal fence separating them from the sidewalk, Wall Street, and the Jeep.

Merilee used a burst of wind to lift her over the fence in one giant leap. Riana felt her triad sister’s wind gather beneath her and push her up, up, as she pulled as hard as she could, yelling from the blistering, pulsing ache in her arm and side. Cynda pushed from behind her, and Riana managed to get over the fence tips without impaling herself. Cynda came next, bolstered by Shell, who followed in a wind-supported leap.

Riana lurched toward the fire.

It vanished before she scorched herself.

Bystanders had gathered along the opposite sidewalk, and people started shouting when the fire disappeared. Merilee and Shell made a wind-screen to force the gawkers to look away and blur their images. The wind pounded against the people on the street, driving them back, back, as the Sibyls ran, limped, and staggered past.

Bile washed up Riana’s throat as she gripped her bleeding side.

The Jeep. Not far now. Not far. She could see it. See Merilee yanking open the doors and swinging her arm to say,
Come on. Come on.

Almost there.

Five steps.

Three. Cynda grabbed her hand and they managed the last few feet together. Maura and Dani were pulling Shell in through the hatch.

Riana said a little prayer of thanks that she bought the bigger model, two seats in the front, three in the center, and a hatch, too. Perfect for great escapes.

Then she was in the Jeep, her face pressed against the familiar, comfortable leather.

And then she just…wasn’t.

 

 

 

20

 

 

Creed knew something was wrong the minute the door opened.

He had tried to go downstairs, but ended up cleaning the living room and kitchen instead. Then he paced the brownstone’s living room until Andy threatened to shoot him in the kneecaps. She was dead asleep on the overstuffed couch when the wind chimes starting ringing, but she popped awake when the front door banged like gunfire against its stop.

The first thing through the front door was a naked guy, all pale and white and freckly with dark red hair. He was awake and staggering, hobbled by a rope tying his ankles together. His hands were tied, too, in front, firmly covering his dick. By the way he was limping and grimacing, that dick had taken some serious recent damage.

Next came three women Creed didn’t recognize. The first had dark hair and delicate curves like a movie star, an effect marred only by a big bruise along her left cheekbone and the friggin’ gigantic scimitar belted at her waist. Another was a brunette with a scary-looking African sickle dangling from her waist, a bunch of scratches on her face, and part of her bodysuit burned away. The third woman was big-boned and tanned. She had a bloody bandage tied around her left thigh, what looked like two dozen tiny knives in bandoliers along the inside of her arms, and purple hair cut in a short jumble.

“I’m Shell,” said purple-hair as she brushed past him. “The two in front of me are Dani and Maura. Excuse ’em for being rude.” She turned back and winked at him. “You’re the demon-cop, right? Good. Stay out of the way.”

Before Creed could even get his wits about him to speak, Shell had turned her attention back to their prisoner. “Herbert! Don’t even think about sitting on the floor. Get on that big round table like I told you.”

When Herbert didn’t move toward the table fast enough, a gust of wind shoved him forward into the waiting and unfriendly arms of Dani and Maura, with their evil-looking swords.

“Fuck me,” Andy said sleepily, eyes fixed on the door. “Did you guys run through a buzz saw?”

Creed wheeled back to the door, mouth dry, fists clenched. Cynda limped in next. The lower left leg of her bodysuit had been cut away. Blood streaked down the visible part of her thigh and knee, and she was bandaged, too. Merilee, who didn’t seem to have a bandage, helped Riana through the door.

The world stopped for Creed.

Riana was pale and barely walking on her own. One of her sleeves had been cut off to allow for a bandage on her arm. She was missing another piece of her bodysuit on her side, with a bloody bandage peeking out between the dark pieces of leather.

He strode to her, took over from Merilee, and lifted Riana into his arms. “What the hell happened?” He gazed into her pain-stricken eyes and felt the way she was breathing, shallow and harsh, as if she might pass out any second. “You’re going to the hospital right now. Andy, get your keys.”

“Somebody shot at us,” Merilee said as she closed the door behind Creed and Riana. “And no hospitals. They have to report gunshots and stabbings, and I really don’t want to be making up yet another set of we-got-mugged stories.”

Fury raced through Creed, and the
other
snarled like a roused lion. He fought to master it, and steadied himself enough to say, “Who shot you? Why?”

“No idea,” Cynda yelled from across the room as smoke seemed quite literally to come out of her ears. “Never happened before. But we’re gonna find out in a minute.” She opened the closet and hurled her face mask inside. “We got ambushed by friggin’ Asmodai in a friggin’ graveyard, thanks to this piece of shit.” She turned and tossed her sheathed sword at the big oak table, where the naked guy was huddled. He flinched when the weapon struck the wood and bounced onto the floor.

“Hospital,” Creed said again, blood pounding in his temples. His chest ached at the thought of Riana injured so badly, that she’d been shot. He hadn’t been there with her, damnit. Why’d he let her leave alone? “And I’m calling the NYPD to go after the shooters.”

“Flesh wounds,” Riana managed, though her voice sounded weak. “The bullets are out, and we’ve started the healing. A day or two, and you’ll never know I got hurt. The NYPD can’t do anything, Creed. Whoever fired on us is long gone.”

Creed realized that Cynda and purple-hair—Shell, she said her name was—they had been shot, too, and they were moving fairly well. “How did you get all the bullets out?”

Riana blinked at him, and he thought she might be trying to smile. “They’re metal, aren’t they? Dani and I are earth Sibyls. We work with rock, dirt, and metals.”

“I want you to get real medical attention.” He held her gaze. “What if you get an infection?”

“Like I said, I’m a Sibyl.” She reached up one long-fingered hand and touched his cheek. “We know how to kill infections before they even start.”

The silk of her fingertips made him want to growl at everyone in the room and chase them all away. He would have squeezed her tighter, but he didn’t want to hurt her. And he didn’t know what to say to convince her to get help.

But…the color was coming back to her cheeks, and her breathing had slowed to normal. She trailed her fingers down his cheek again, and this time, she was able to smile.

How fast
do
they heal?

He was clearly in uncharted territory here, and his mind ticked back over Cynda’s ass wound and other minor bumps and bruises he’d seen the triad take in the short time he’d known them. The smaller injuries had become non-issues pretty quickly.

But bullets?

Riana’s musical voice was lower when she spoke, more sexy, more alluring. Her expression said,
Take me downstairs. Now
. Out loud, however, she said, “Please take me to one of the chairs. We’ve got to question Herbert before we send him away.”

Creed didn’t know whether to shake Riana or refuse to put her down until morning. He finally had to give in and carry her to the nearest chair, settling her gently between the padded arms. Then he pressed his lips against her ear and whispered, “Next time the shooting starts, I’ll be with you.”

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