Harvest Hunting (40 page)

I turned around, quickly surveying the battlefield. Camille and Morio were casting another spell. A circle of light surrounded them, whirling like a vortex, and they walked forward toward a group of five bone-walkers. The creatures disintegrated into dust as the edge of the light hit them.

Damn, I’d like to have me some of that magic,
I thought.

Roz, Vanzir, and Trillian were pounding their way through a couple of zombies and a Tregart. Trillian was wisely holding back on the stun gun. Good. When we came up against Stacia, perhaps it would do some sort of damage.

Iris was focusing her wand on the house—she was standing on the porch, and as I watched, a layer of mist began to flow out of the Aqualine crystal, in through the doors, turning to frost everywhere it touched. A layer of ice, a layer of cold.
Good girl.
That would take care of any snakes we might encounter inside.

I realized there was an opening to get to the door now and took it, racing up the steps, sliding on the frost right through the doorway. Morio, Vanzir, and Iris followed me while the others hung back, fighting the last of the front guard.

We’d rushed into what had once been a parlor but now appeared to be some sort of barracks. Cots lined the walls. My guess—they were for the Tregarts. I slowed. Stacia should be in here and—if we were unlucky, Trytian, too. I wasn’t sure I wanted to take on the daemon. While he
had
tried to blow us up, my guess is that he would have left us alone if Stacia hadn’t entered the picture. And he was fighting against Shadow Wing.

As I turned the corner, I stopped short. There, ahead, was a tall, lovely woman. Striking. Stunning.
Stacia.

Oh crap. Where the hell were Smoky, Menolly, and Shade? I tried to slide back around the corner before Stacia noticed me, just grateful she hadn’t shifted to her true form yet, but she turned as I was backing away. Her face—dark, brilliant eyes against an olive complexion—was beautiful, but the look in her eyes terrified me. There was no mortality there—no sign she’d ever felt compassion or mercy.

She smiled then. “I offered you and your sisters the chance to join my army.” Her voice was soft, too gentle for the look on her face. “Remember that when you die. I’m not like my predecessor. He enjoyed playing with his food. I just get the job done—that’s why I’m alive.”

As she began to transform, I turned to yell for Iris and Vanzir, but saw they had engaged four zombies that had appeared out of the corner. And I found myself facing a very large, very scuzzy looking Tregart.
Crap.

His fist slammed into my gut, and I doubled over. As he leaned down to grab me by the scruff of my collar, I managed to thrust Lysanthra straight up and stab him in the face. He shrieked and staggered back, and I forced myself to my feet. Stacia was midway through transformation—apparently it took time to turn into a twenty-foot anaconda woman.

The demon was bleeding like a stuck pig. I pushed forward, stabbing him through a gap in the leather jacket, managing to hit him in the gut as he tried to maneuver his eyeball, which had been dislodged, back into the socket.

At that moment, the front door—which I could see from my position—slammed open, and Smoky, Menolly, and Shade burst through.
High five! Backup had arrived.
As the Tregart writhed on my knife, I gave it another good twist and slid my blade out of him. He dropped to his knees, and I brought the dagger down on his head, giving him one final gash that did the trick. He keeled over, and I raced into the living room, where Stacia was just finishing up her shift into her lamia form.

“Remember, she’s a necromancer!” I eyed the demon general, wondering just how the hell to kill this thing. She was twenty feet long, most of that in giant anaconda form. Her torso, arms, and head were female, grotesquely misshapen, with long fangs that dripped a dark liquid. Constrictor or not, I had no doubt that they contained some sort of venom.

Smoky let forth a low whistle, and frost spread from his breath, rippling through the room in a wave, freezing everything it touched. Stacia hissed at him, spitting some liquid toward his eyes. The dragon jumped back, dodging out of the way as the venom splashed against the frost and sizzled.

Shade began to walk toward her, shimmering so that it was hard to tell whether he was corporeal or not. She cocked her head at him, then struck, grabbing for him, but her arms went right through his image. Shit—he was walking in shadow, and that had probably just saved his ass.

I wondered why she wasn’t tossing spells around—she was a powerful necromancer—and then a thought hit me:
Could
she cast magic in her natural form? Or did she have to be in human form? Necromancy wasn’t an innate ability for her, so maybe she couldn’t use it when she shifted back to her normal shape. Either way, I had to figure out some way to get behind her so I could hack into that damned long tail she had. Menolly joined me and pulled me to one side.

“I can vault over her head,” she said. “A lot faster than she can catch me.

“Go for it. I’m trying to find an opening that isn’t going to kick my ass.”

“Be safe. We can’t afford to lose you. Remember, we’re all in this together—we don’t have room for martyrs.” She took a running leap and went soaring over the lamia’s head in a flip to die for, landing near the end of Stacia’s coiled tail.

Trillian took something out of his pocket, and I smiled. Of course,
he’d
be the one to figure that out. He slid a pair of shades on. Wraparound Ray-Bans, which looked stunning and would protect his eyes from her venom. He held up the stun gun and began to move toward her.

Stacia spit at him and at the same time slammed the tip of her tail into Menolly, knocking my sister against the wall. Menolly managed to grab hold of the tail, and she was using her long nails to claw her way up toward Stacia’s back. At that moment, Iris came through the door, bloodied and bruised, and she took one look at Stacia and let out a long, terrible shriek.

“You killed Henry; you destroyed the shop!” Her eyes grew wide as she thrust her wand toward the lamia and let out a long string of chanting—I couldn’t understand the words, but the power behind it was vast and terrifying, and I found myself backing away as the Talon-haltija sang her song.

Stacia started to home in on her, but right then Menolly made her way onto the creature’s back and wrapped her arm around the lamia’s neck. She began to squeeze. The lamia’s tail was flipping now, smashing right and left as she reached up to try to claw Menolly from her back. Venom dripped from the demon’s fangs, and she let out a long shriek.

“Do you realize how stupid you are?” Her eyes flashed. “Kill me, and you kill yourselves and this world. I’m your best chance to stand against Shadow Wing.”

Iris let loose a spell that hit Stacia in the face. Energy crackled through the lamia, a web of forked lightning working its way down her body.

“We’ll take our chances,” I screamed, rushing in from the side. “If you’re our only ally, then we’re dead anyway.” As I plunged Lysanthra into her side, Stacia backhanded me and sent me—and my dagger—flying against a buffet. Her tail swung toward me and coiled around my waist and I heard something in my chest crack. Moaning, I struggled to get free, but the pressure was too great, and I was beginning to pass out.
Crap,
I thought.
So close—I can’t die now!

Shade appeared then, at the side of the lamia, and he breathed a cloud of smoke on her. She screamed and rubbed furiously at her eyes. Shade let out a low rumble and began to shift, but he wasn’t turning into dragon—no, he was turning into a creature of mist and shadow, a vaporous form. He enveloped Stacia within his sparkling clouds, and she clawed at her throat.

Menolly grabbed the demon’s hair and began to pull, holding her neck bare and exposed. Shade quickly moved out of the way, and Smoky made a running pass, his talons ripping at the vulnerable flesh. He left five long, terrible gashes that immediately began to fountain blood.

Stacia let go of me, her tail thudding against the floor. I moaned as I hit the hardwood and dragged myself out of the way.

At that moment, Camille and Morio entered the room, followed by Rozurial and Vanzir. Vanzir pushed his way to the front and held out his hands. I knew what we’d see if we were on the astral—long tentacles coming out of his fingers, reaching deep within Stacia’s mind to suck out her life force. His head dropped back, his rocker chic look dropping away to a mad fury as he let out a laugh that ricocheted through the room. His eyes grew wide, the kaleidoscope that made up one indescribable color whirling with passionate intensity.

“And I feed,” he said, laughing again.

Stacia writhed, her heavy tail constricting in on itself. She grabbed for Menolly, but my sister leapt straight up, managing to avoid the tentacle of muscle. As she landed on the floor again, Menolly raced over to me, scooping me up to pull me out of the way. I screamed—the ribs that were fractured shifted, sending a paroxysm of pain through my body.

At that moment, Trillian stepped to the side so he wouldn’t hit Vanzir and aimed at Stacia with the stun gun, hitting her dead center in the chest with the jolt of magic. He shot again and again, until the gun was empty.

Trillian broke off and backed up . . . his breath coming in ragged pants. “She’s done . . . get out of the way—I think when she dies it’s going to be messy.”

We raced for the door, Menolly dragging me with her, but before we could make it, there was a noise, and I turned to look. Stacia wavered and went down, hitting the floor with an earthshaking thud. As she landed, her body began to dissolve, and snakes roiled out of her, hundreds of snakes. Constrictors, vipers . . . all creatures from the serpentine world.

“Move! They’re coming our way!”

And they were—at least three hundred of the coiling beasts. I didn’t mind snakes, but they’d been part of the lamia, and I didn’t trust that they weren’t hungry and aiming for whatever moved.

Iris let out a long shout and once again, a blanket of frost raced through the room, slowing the snakes some. Smoky joined her, and an ice storm raged through the living room, beating hail and frost down on everything and everyone in sight. The pellets hit exposed skin with a fierce sting, and I heard Camille let out a cry—the pellets had to make the glass wounds hurt like hell.

The snakes let out a collective hiss, and I realized they still had Stacia’s essence within them—they weren’t just your everyday pretty serpent.

“She’s still there—in the nest of snakes! She’ll heal if we don’t kill them.”

I could barely breathe by now, my ribs were hurting so bad, but I didn’t care. We had to finish this.

Smoky pushed Camille into Morio’s arms. “Get her and everyone else out. I’ll take care of this.”

As Morio and Trillian herded everyone out, Shade swept me up in his arms and carried me. We headed toward the front of the yard as a loud rumble sounded, and the walls began to shatter. Smoky was transforming into his dragon shape. As we cleared the porch, a huge gust of wind blew us out, and then snow began to fall in our area as a figure—tall and dressed in the purest of whites—came striding out. Behind him, the house creaked as it iced over. Another blast, and the timbers began to fall in on themselves. Whatever he’d done, the place was imploding.

Camille flipped open her phone. “Chase? Get a unit over here now.” She gave him the address. “We just killed Stacia . . . the house is gone. Tell them . . . tell them . . . hell, I don’t know. Tell them Santa Claus paid a surprise visit, and he wasn’t happy with Stacia being on the naughty list.”

And as we watched silently, the Bonecrusher and her snakes vanished under the silent wash of snow.

“So, did anybody ever find Trytian?” I was sitting in the kitchen, my ribs wrapped tightly. Sharah had me on strict orders to rest for a good six to seven weeks. I’d heal faster than an FBH, but bones could only knit so fast. The kitchen was still trashed, there had been so much destruction, but most of the mess had been cleaned up, and the men were busy, trying to repair the damage done.

Iris was making tea, Menolly was hovering near the ceiling. Most of the guys were spread out in the living room except for Vanzir, Trillian, and Shade, who had joined us in the kitchen.

Camille shook her head. “No, and frankly, I’m willing to leave him alone if he leaves us alone. He’s not out to take Shadow Wing’s place like Stacia was. I wish there was a way we could let him know that.” She leaned against Trillian, who wrapped her in his arms and kissed her head.

“I can make that happen,” Vanzir said. “I’ll put out a note through the Demon Underground, and it will spread. He’ll hear. I have no love for the fucking jerk after he tried to blow us up, but if he’s willing to let us do what we need to and tend to his own backyard . . . I’m willing to let it go.”

“What about Van and Jaycee?” I hated ticking off the list of enemies we still had prowling around, but we needed to remember: They were out there, and they were gunning for us.