Killing Land (Rune Alexander Book 8) (17 page)

A new man threw himself into the confusion and Rune
recognized him immediately—the stranger who’d been standing with the scarred
blonde at his back.

She was
still
at his back, and her face was as
unreadable as the stranger’s.

He jerked Roma away from the vomiting beast—still, the
gargoyle managed to splash some acid on her—and even as one of the gargoyles
behind her grabbed her shoulder, Rune watched the stranger shift seamlessly and
rapidly into a gargoyle.

Rune grabbed the hand on her shoulder and smashed it into a
crumbling mess of rock pieces and blood, barely acknowledging the gargoyle’s
roars of pain before she turned and shoved him at his friends.

A nasty fucking gargoyle had Roma.

But as soon as he shifted, he flew into the air and tossed
Roma behind him—where the scarred blonde shifted and waited to catch the…

The rabbit.
The
fucking wererabbit.

Roma was a bunny.

No
wonder
she refused to talk about what she was.

Rune flashed for a millisecond on Roma when she’d been
asleep—eyes staring, nose twitching—her previous hunger for salad, and her
disgust at meat.

Roma was a fucking
rabbit
.

She wasn’t a mean wererabbit, either.

No.

She was white and delicate and as pretty as anything.

Those things passed through Rune’s mind in mere seconds—the
blonde gargoyle zipped her way down the passageway, Roma in her arms, carrying
the girl to safety. Rune hoped.

And then she had to put Roma from her mind.

There were more pressing things to worry about.

Gargoyles.

Someone breathed fire at wall torches she hadn’t even
noticed before. They were high on the walls and lit the place with a bright,
hot light that seemed to immediately warm the freezing cave.

Gargoyles.

She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to
acknowledge that she was alone against a cave full of the hated bastards, but
she had no choice.

She couldn’t crouch in a corner and cover her eyes.

Roma would make the blonde carry her to Jack. She’d take
care of him.

The beast and the gargoyles—Rune would deal with them alone.

Then she realized she wasn’t alone. The stranger was on her
side.

Sort of.

He kept his shift and buzzed like an enormous stone bumblebee
toward the gargoyles at Rune’s back, but stopped at her side.

“Handle your fucking brother,” he roared.

Rune wasn’t sure which shocked her more—that the gargoyles
could speak or that the monster was someone’s brother.

His voice wasn’t the voice of a human. It was rough and
filled with gravel and glass, and it cut her ears and scraped her mind raw. The
voice of a gargoyle was a weapon.

Rune kept one eye on the beast and one eye on the group of
gargoyles. She wasn’t going to wait for them to control the beast.

He was insane, dangerous, and bent on eating people.

She was going to kill him.

She streaked like light toward the mutant gargoyle
who
seemed to have forgotten his anger and shuffled toward
his people.

He was one gargoyle who seemed to have lost his ability to
speak, but he roared with every step.

His roars made her want to tear his head off.

She jumped, climbed halfway up the cave wall,
then
kicked off it right into the gargoyle’s face.

Every being alive had a vulnerable spot, and that’s what she
went after.

His eyes.

If she took his eyes and neutralized him, the rest would be
cake.

Flying through the foul air, she had a moment of doubt—she
had no idea where it had come from, but it was there, that doubt.

Doubt not in herself but in what she was about to do.

Maybe it was the bawling, childish tone of the gargoyle, or
the knowledge that he was someone’s fucking brother, or that there were
Others
who wanted to save him.

Who maybe, just maybe, loved a
monster.

So she hesitated, hesitated with her claws right at his
eyes, as he quieted and something intelligent and horrified and so very, very
sad gazed back at her.

She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t take his eyes, couldn’t kill
him.

“You can’t do that anymore,” she whispered to him. “You
can’t.”

He stared at her with shiny black eyes, eyes that looked
like pebbles breaking the scum covered surface of his face.

Eyes that held, despite his horrible
hunger, a strange sort of innocence.

His voice rumbled out in a small, gentle murmur, as though
he was aware of how close he was to being blinded and living in an even blacker
hell than the one in which he was already immersed.

He nodded. She was sure of it.

He nodded, and dust and debris fell from his massive head
and from the many hollows and nooks in his craggy face.

He understood.

Or maybe that was just what she wanted to believe.

He could have opened his mouth and sent his vile poison to
burn her skin. Could have lifted huge hands to try and crush her, or could have
snapped off the claws she held frozen and unsure so dangerously close to his
face.

But he only stared, and huffed, and wordlessly questioned.

At last, she withdrew her claws and leapt from his body to
the cold cave floor, and only then, after the adrenaline had lessened, did his
stench once again slide into her brain.

The gargoyles were waiting.

They’d gathered around the legs of her intended victim and
she realized if she’d killed him, or even blinded him, they’d been prepared to
do some damage to her.

She hadn’t cared at the time—ending the beast had been her
only concern.

She faced them—strangely enough with her back against the
huge gargoyle’s legs—and waited.

No one spoke.

The stranger who had helped save Roma stood with
them,
and Rune couldn’t tell if he would have attacked her
or sided with her.

Finally, one of the gargoyles, a male with a face like
smashed clay—the leader, she thought—stepped closer. “Leave before my people
and I tear you to pieces and feed you to my brother.”

She shot out her claws, and the sound of them slicing
through the air echoed off the cave walls. “I didn’t kill your brother because
this isn’t his fault.” She dropped her fangs and stepped away from the towering
monster. “But I can kill you.”

He opened his mouth and growled, and Rune had to fight not
to cover her ears. It hurt. It hurt a lot.

But she’d die before she let him know that.

His voice seemed to excite the other gargoyles—to put them
into a mindless fight mode. The male standing next to him rushed forward, his
feet skimming the floor. He opened his mouth and sent a stream of fire at her.

The flames were like blue ice, and she could feel the skin
on her face split and peel as she slammed back against the monster behind her.

The beast roared loud enough to disorient her, and while she
was caught between the pain of her boiling skin and the pain of a gargoyle’s
maddened voice, the beast reached down and plucked the fire breather off the
floor.

Rune glanced up just in time to see him bite through the
gargoyle’s throat. Blood, hot and thick, gushed over her like a red tidal wave,
the weight and horror of it sending her to one knee.

Hard fingers circled her arm and yanked her away from the
angry beast. “Let’s get you out of here,” the stranger said.

“Yeah,” she mumbled. She was drained, sick, and hurt and
wasn’t interested in arguing. “I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“That you have,” he agreed, his voice soft enough not to
tunnel through her brain and add to her injuries.

She needed to check on Jack, and get with her crew to figure
shit out. She didn’t want to kill the gargoyle, but she couldn’t let him eat
people—whether they signed up for it or not.

Maybe there was a solution, maybe not.

If there
was
a solution, he could live.
Maybe.

If not, she’d have no choice but to kill him.

She just needed out of the cave.
Away from
the stench, the pain, the coldness.
She couldn’t think about anything
else right then.

But the lead gargoyle decided to argue. “What are you doing,
Gavin?” He didn’t keep his voice down—it was loud and rusty and full of anger,
and maybe, she thought, a hint of helpless frustration.

“I’m taking her out of here.”

“The hell you are. She’ll come back. She’ll bring people and
they’ll take him. You know they will.” He leaned slightly toward the other man.
“She will tell everyone that we are the gargoyles.”

“She hasn’t seen you.”

“She’s seen
you
.”

“I’m taking her out of here,” Gavin repeated.

She yanked her arm from Gavin’s grip. “Fuck you both. I’ll
take myself out of here.” She pointed at the angry leader. “You try to stop me
and I’ll cut you in half. I’m sick of your shit.”

And she turned to walk away—not down the long, long
passageway that had taken her, Roma, and Jack forever to walk, but back into
the monster’s den so she could climb out through the high ceiling exit.

She felt the lead gargoyle move before she actually turned
to see him, but Gavin was ready for him. He leapt at the other gargoyle and
they collided with a sound like boulders crashing down a mountain.

Gavin shoved the other one away so hard he staggered into
the wall. “Your fucking temper is going to get you killed, Gage. Calm down and
use your brain, asshole.”

“Fuck me,” Rune whispered.

The man who ran Killing Land was a fucking gargoyle.

And suddenly everything made just a little more sense.

Gage Draven Delaney shook off the restraining hand of his
fellow gargoyles and shifted to human form, his stare pinning her to the spot.

He shrugged. “So now you know.”

“And now you have two reasons to want me dead,” she replied.

Again, he shrugged.
“Sorry, sis.
I
have to think of my people.”

“You’re feeding that monstrosity behind you. That’s okay.
What you’re feeding him is not.”

“Those men know exactly what they’re in for. No one makes
them take the chance.”

“I’ll have to stop you.”

“Killing Land affairs are not your concern, Rune Alexander.
You have enough to worry about in your own city. Go tend to it and let me tend
to mine.”

“I can’t.”

Gavin shifted as well. “I told you to stop bringing in
outsiders,” he said to Gage.

“He had to be fed,” Gage replied, continuing to watch Rune.
“That was the only choice I had left.” He turned and motioned at some of his
gargoyles.
“Get Gordon back inside.”

“He’s hungry,” a female said. She was nearly as tall as Gage
and had brown hair wound around her head in thick braids. Her face was shiny
and carved, covered in pockmarks and scratches that were, most likely, gargoyle
scars.

Shifted, she was impressive, but Rune had a feeling when she
lost her shift she’d look as innocent and benign as any normal human.

The gargoyles were fearsome beasts and Rune knew if it came
to fighting one of them, she’d have some competition. Fighting an entire block
might put her out of commission for a while.

“I said to get him back inside,” Gage said.

They hurried to do as he commanded, and Rune watched them
coax the big gargoyle into his room before she turned her attention back to
Gage.

“How did he—Gordon—come to be…that?” she asked him.

Anger flared in his face, there and gone before Rune could
do more than narrow her eyes. “I’m not in the mood to satisfy your curiosity.”

She shrugged. “We’ll have to figure out a way for you to
feed him something other than human meat.”

“I’ve tried everything. I’ve had steaks cooked. I’ve given
him animals. I’ve tossed in vegetation. Nothing sustains him but raw, human
flesh and blood.”

She studied him for a long moment. “Then you’re going to
have to let him starve to death, or you’re going to have to do the right thing
and kill him.”

He looked at the ceiling and blew out a harsh breath. “You
don’t understand. He’s immortal.
We
are immortal. The only thing
starving him accomplishes is rage and hunger. Feeding him keeps him docile. At
times he gets bored and wants to explore, but we herd him back pretty easily.”

“You’re only immortal until the right person kills you. Take
his head, take his heart, and let him die.”

He blanched. “I will not.”

She felt badly for him. She did. But there were no other
choices.

“I’m sorry.” She flicked her gaze to Gavin, who stood
watching them silently. “I’ll give you until tomorrow. If you don’t kill him,
I’m coming back to do the job for you.”

Gage sneered, but his eyes were agonized. “You couldn’t kill
him when you had the chance.
You
couldn’t kill him, and you don’t even
love him. How can you expect me to?”

He wasn’t wrong.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, then turned to leave. “Kill him.
I’ll be back.”

“You couldn’t kill him,” he continued, as though she hadn’t
even spoken, “and evil lives within you. You swim in it. Your heart is so
black…” He stopped, and peered at her.

She felt the blood draining from her face.
Felt horror freeze her body.

He lifted up a hand. “I
see
you, Rune Alexander. I
see you and all that black evil you try to hide. You should kill yourself
before you destroy the world.”

She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but she was
frozen beneath his words.
His truth.

“Alexander,” Gavin said, glancing at Gage. “Get out of
here.”

But it was too late.

She shut out the gargoyle’s words and shut out the crippling
emotions.

And then she turned to leave, realizing then that she
shouldn’t have tried convincing Gage of anything—but she hadn’t wanted to have
to kill his brother.

She’d hoped they could arrive at a solution.

She’d been stupid.

Her speed was everything and she used it at that moment,
turning and rushing into Gordon’s room, but the gargoyles were waiting.

She rammed into the ones in her way, and the explosion of
her speed coupled with her strength should have blasted them apart like bowling
pins.

But it was like driving a speeding car into a brick wall.

The impact moved them back, true enough, but it broke most
of the bones in her body.

She began to heal immediately, but the damage was severe and
it was going to take her a while to repair the damage.
Monster
or no monster.

They gathered around her and she stared up at them through
the swollen slits of her eyes, old blood from the bitten gargoyle mixing with
the fresh,
new
blood from her injuries.

Gavin shoved the gargoyles away and he and Gage stood over
her. She could see little but their dim, wavering outlines.

“You stupid son of a bitch,” Gavin said. “
Now
you’ve
brought the outside into Killing Land.”

“I couldn’t let her go.”

“But she was right. And if you won’t kill Gordon, I’ll do it
myself. He’s my brother too.”

“You never cared about him,” Gage growled. “I won’t let you
kill him.”

“You can’t stop me, brother.”

“Then one of us will end up dead, because I’m not going to
let you kill him.”

“I thought this family and this town meant something to
you,” Gavin said, contempt dripping from his voice.

“My block means everything to me.”

“You’re risking it all for a miserable man who’d rather die
than exist like this. I’ve let you have your way long enough. This ends now.”

Gage took a deep breath and nodded. “We’ll fight in the town
square. If I lose, you…” The sound of his swallow was loud to Rune’s ears. “You
do as you will. You’ll be overseer of Killing Land and commander of the Delaney
block.”

Gavin nodded. “And if you win, remember this moment when
you’ve led our people into captivity, torture, and death.”

They stared at each other for a long, long moment, and the
torment between them was heavy and dark.

At last, they clasped each other’s arms and nodded.

“It’s done,” Gage said. “Good luck, brother.”

“Not brother. After this moment, we are enemies even after
our true death.”

“
Your
true death,” Gage
said,
his voice hard. “I plan to live.”

A woman pushed herself through the crowd of watching
gargoyles, panting slightly. She flung her arms around Gavin. “I won’t let
you.”

He took upper arms and pushed her gently away. “Distance
yourself, Bellamy. You know the procedure.”

Rune didn’t care about their plans. “Roma,” she tried to
ask, but her mouth wasn’t ready to work. “Jack?”

Dizziness overwhelmed her, nausea threatened, and the pain,
oh, the pain.

They thought she was dead.

Bastards.

Her anger was good. In some way, it lessened the pain and
helped her heal. She pulled it to her, that anger, and let it build as she
embraced it.

But there in her half death, her twilight, when nothing
worked but her mind, she sensed something.

Not gargoyles.

Not the Delaney brothers.

Not the dread of the upcoming gargoyle death fight.

Something…

Skyll.

“I think something appeared the day after you came back
from Skyll.”

And she felt it.

Whatever it was.

It was fucking
there.

Something had found a way in. It hadn’t mattered that the
portal had closed.

Something
had found a way in.

And that meant it knew a way back.

Back to Skyll.
Back
to her crew.

Back to the fucking berserker.

The gargoyles ceased to matter. They’d do what they did and
either Gordon would die or she would kill him.

She’d given him one chance, and that was all he was getting.

But the thing from Skyll…

Her heart wanted to explode with the possibility of it.

It was
there
.

She just had to find it.