Into the Light (The Admiral's Elite Book 2) (16 page)

It was no use. Try as she might to push her way in, there was no opening. No thinning of the barrier that separated their minds provided the opportunity she required to jump in.
Becca pushed harder, throwing herself out recklessly and felt something warm latch onto her psyche. There was a feeling of being yanked sideways, and then of being trapped. In a flash she was blind as spots gave way to a sheet of blinding light. The thing that had latched onto the part of her reaching out to Gabrielle tightened its grip and her body caught fire. Every fiber of her being, inside and out, was alight with pain. Without being bidden, images of the fire demon popped into her consciousness and terror paralyzed her mind and body. Her skin was once again being charred and her mind screamed out while her body began to shut down.

“No, come back!” Gabrielle shouted desperately as the glow disappeared. Snapped out of her trance with a rude shove, she felt the tether that had pulled her along let go. The backlash of its release upset her balance and she fell. Waking suddenly, she tore her fingers and ripped off a nail clinging to the boulder she found herself perched on.

The same disorientation she’d experienced coming off her tracking shifts the previous nights left her shaky and weak. If she changed to her wolf form she could be strong, but that same pull that had called to her had urged her to stay human. It blocked her will to call her beast and share its strength, leaving in its place a human; weak, confused, and bleeding. Tears of unknown origin wet her cheeks. She touched her face, leaving red streaks as she wondered what had possessed her to depart the crime scene. The last she could remember, she’d been talking to Becca. Now she was here. And why did she feel like someone kicked her in the stomach? Without understanding why, she hid her face in her hands and gave in to the overwhelming grief threatening to tear her apart.

Becca fell to her knees, blissful oblivion closing in and taking with it any conscious thoughts she might have had. It didn’t register when she struck her head on the rocky ground nor did she notice when warm blood began leaking out onto the snow. Images of the cabin where she’d faced down the demon, the images that had haunted her dreams for weeks, flooded her mind, numbing it. The smell that wafted to her on the air made her gag. Her mouth opened in a terrified scream, only nothing came out.

Neither woman noticed when a third figure emerged from the woods where the glow had disappeared. The creature scuffed a bare foot against the ice-crusted rock it crested to come into the opening. Taller than a normal human male, the creature had to weigh less than a young girl. Skeletal limbs covered in sagging gray flesh protruded from a rail thin body barely covered by the filthy rags that draped it. Too short pants exposed bony ankles and threadbare patches in several places offered glances of more sickly physique underneath. Long, shaggy hair hung in mud-fused clumps leaving little of the dull brown color showing through. The mop of dirt and debris also served to cover the majority of the creature’s face. Aimed down at the sobbing form ahead, it kept its features hidden. The sickening sweet smell of rot perfumed the crisp air around it.

“You smell that?” Ryan was in the lead when he picked up the new scent. “There are two somethings we’re following.”

“Just figured that one out.” Michael grunted. The vampire was shrieking for him to run, to fly to Becca. A windigo was challenge enough. The second creature was something else. It smelled of something old, nothing he had encountered before, he was sure of it. He knew it had to be the thing using the windigo, which made it something to be feared. And he’d let Becca go after it? That had been careless on his part. But working with her these past few months he’d learned once she got it in her head to do something, there was no stopping her. He hoped she’d caught Gabrielle and they faced it together or that he and Ryan would get there before there was a confrontation. Exchanging a glance, both men doubled their pace. Stealth was compromised only a shade as they flew through the woods.

What felt like hours could have only been minutes. Michael and Ryan held back very little as they leapt fallen trees and ran over the tricky footing as only the supernatural can. To a normal human it would appear they floated without care over the ground when in actuality, their hyperawareness allowed them to scout the ground just as carefully as any pedestrian without slowing. Combined with their sense of urgency, they all but flew.

The two of them stayed to the woods, following the rocky opening in the trees. Cover was essential for them to maintain the element of surprise as best they could. The clouds had opened, large fluffy flakes falling slowly at first, then much heavier as they ran. Soon it was a near whiteout where the rocks impeded tree growth, only slightly better in the leaf barren woods. And so it was purely sense of smell that led them to where their quarry had come to a stop. 

Chapter 17

The smell of decay hit him full in the nose and Michael skidded to a halt, putting a hand out unnecessarily to signal Ryan to do the same. He’d caught the same scent. Both fell into a crouch and Michael squinted into the white mess, scanning for signs of movement.

“Holy fuck,” Ryan breathed from beside him. “Found it.”

Michael followed the track of his unit member’s gaze to behold the skeleton hovering on the rock, a living creature straight out of a nightmare. The wind had picked up with the storm and whipped the dark tattered clothing about the bony gray creature’s filthy head. He registered that the lump in front of it was alive and not a part of the rock. She was curled into a ball and a howling sob rolled out just as the creature lowered itself to touch her.

Ryan’s snarl cut through the wind and the creature’s face came up. It was cut short as he beheld the thing exactly as horrible as Michael had described it. The gray flesh hung loosely over hollow cheeks and empty black eyes. Sagging lips did nothing to hide the fangs that were as long as a man’s ring finger and nearly reached the bottom of its chin.

Seeing the stronger being that was Gabrielle incapacitated had Michael in a frenzy. Casting his eyes wildly about, he searched the area for Becca. There was no sign on the rocks or in the woods. And to further inflame his frustration, the wind gusted again, filling his nose with aged death and taking with it any chance of finding Becca that way. A second growl erupted from his shoulder mate and Michael quit any semblance of secrecy.

“Becca!” he yelled.

No answer.

Narrowing his eyes, he rose and rushed forward. There was no making this thing speak; it was unable due to the level of physical deterioration. Death was its only future. Michael and Ryan matched strides to be the deliverers of its sentence.

Two legs turned to four as Ryan changed on the fly, clothing bursting into pieces to litter the forest floor. Together they broke from the trees and hopped from rock to rock, splitting to flank the thing. Michael sunk lower, gathering himself to leap, knowing Ryan would be doing the same.

The vampire snarled as he took the head and the wolf’s teeth snapped on bone where he clamped onto the femur. The thing’s body went down, legless and headless but not destroyed. Michael had educated Ryan on the destruction of this specific creature during their pursuit. The body was torn limb from limb into tiny pieces without a word being spoken between them. No blood in the body, it was set into a dry pile of crumbling bones that Michael easily set ablaze using its clothing as tinder, burning the parts so that no amount of magic could ever reassemble it.

That done the men split, their goals no longer common. Ryan’s soft reassurances echoed in his ears as Michael began circling the perimeter, scanning the fresh white blanket covering the ground and blinding shower of large wet flakes obscuring even his vision.

“Becca,” he called again, stopping to listen for a response possibly too weak to hear over the sound of his boots crunching in the snow. He was circling back around the rock, peering into the woods when the wind dropped for a few seconds and he caught a whiff of blood. Fresh blood. Head shooting up, eyes searching, he caught one more sniff before the wind picked up again. It was enough. It was Becca’s blood and it called to him.

Long strides carried him to where she lay on the other side of a cluster of trees and heavy brush that blocked her from him until he was almost on top of her. The blood had stopped, but he saw with a stomach dropping realization that it had come from her head. She’d hit it on the rock sticking out of the ground not a foot away. White flakes were working to cover the dark stain his eyes didn’t need to tell him was there. His nose gave him all of the information he needed. She was hurt, thankfully not severely though the temperatures were not doing her any favors. Her skin was turning blue from cold, not blood loss. She hadn’t lost enough to cause her a shortage and her heart was strong. Racing in fact. On his knees next to her small, prone body, Michael smelled fear. And gently, he wiped away the snow that covered her face to reveal her features frozen in a mask of abject terror that sent a stabbing pain through him.

“Becca, honey, I’m here. Becca wake up, it’s all right.” He comforted her as he picked her up and cradled her close. “Ryan,” he called over his shoulder and turned to see that he had Gabrielle up and on her feet. She was shaking her head and wiping at her face but seemed okay, if a little bloody. “I’ll meet you at the truck.” Without waiting for an answer, he took off.

It was a much faster return than the hike out due to the simple fact that nothing held him back and he had motive for getting her into a warm truck ASAP. Back at the truck, he held her one-handed while he fished the keys from his pocket.

“Hold on Becca, just give me a minute and I’ll get you warm.”

She made a little sound and Michael checked his grip, loosening his arms immediately. He looked down to see her eyes still terrified and struggled to keep hold of her, fighting back his nature demanding he go back and reassemble the ashes so he could tear the creature apart again. He reminded himself not to lose control or squeeze her too tight again.  

He found the keys and got her inside the back to lay her down, letting her go long enough to start the truck, put the heat up to full blast, and get in back with her. Resting her head on his lap was the only way for both of them to fit. Stroking her hair, he lifted it to see that the cut was minor and the bump had been kept down by the cold. She’d have a nasty bruise though it would disappear relatively quickly.

The damage wasn’t severe enough to have caused the mental paralysis she was suffering. As far as he knew, a windigo wasn’t one to possess or manipulate one’s mind. That begged the question: what was working with the windigo? It had to be powerful to take down Gabs and Becca. Impatient for her to wake up, he rubbed her shoulder vigorously.

“Becca, come on. Wake up, honey.” He watched her face. Color was slowly bleeding back into her lips and cheeks, her eyes relaxed finally and drifted closed. “You’re almost there, honey.” Michael smiled to himself. If someone had told him twenty years ago that he would be in love with a human, that she would love him back, he would have killed the person for being a dumbass. A cruel dumbass.

She sighed and her lids fluttered open. The big hazel eyes that stared up at him were quiet. Becca was in there again. He felt his lips pull back into a smile. Blinking, she twisted her lips in return. “Hey.”

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

Touching her head, she tried to sit up and fell back. “I’ve got a hell of a headache. Why?” Her hand found the bump and she grinned, “Oh.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Michael touched the side of her face, noting the exhaustion lining her features and frowning at the way her eye twitched when he asked. “I’m sorry, we need to know.”

She shook her head. “Not really, just bits and pieces.” Offering an unconvincing closed mouth smile, she tried to sit up again. “Could you?”

“Sure,” he helped her up. “Okay?” His eyes searched her for signs of fainting or illness. God he was a fool for her. If something happened to her he would go back to the husk he’d been, doing whatever Black wanted without a conscience. Without a soul.

“Thanks.” She smiled shyly, embarrassed to be reliant. “Um, out there, I was following Gabrielle. She was after this thing. It was glowing, only I didn’t see what it was.” A wrinkle formed between her brows. “I never saw it.” She rolled her head lazily from side to side, too tired to give it more. “It managed to stay away from both of us.”

Uncertain and unable to meet her gaze, he glanced past her out the window to see if the others were coming. Nothing. “Did you get any sort of feeling from it? A vibe or anything?”