Page 34 of The Dead Saint

“Cut its head off,” Adrian said.

Armor clinked, and low whispers were exchanged. He couldn’t make out the words clearly, but their collective fear was a siege arrow directed at his gut. Tensing, he waited for the creature to step into the room. But it didn’t cross the threshold. It stood in the arch, staring at them, chest heaving, saliva dripping from its open maw.

“What’s it waiting for?” Thompson asked.

With his question, the creature began to growl—promising violence, promising dismemberment and pain.

But that was it. It was just a promise.

The creature vibrated on the threshold, held there, unmoving. Revenant picked up a pebble and tossed it at the creature, striking it in the leg. The werewolf roared, the sound deafening, but it remained where it was.

Relief and understanding flashed through Adrian. It couldn’t enter the temple. The howls beyond the crumbling walls continued, mournful and persistent, circling and closing in. They were surrounded, and if they left, they would all die. The others were probably already dead: Juri, Till, Magnus, Soren, Wes, and Lev. Six of his trusted unit. Six men he’d fought and bled beside.

“I don’t think it can enter,” Revenant said.

“You’re right,” Adrian agreed, relaxing his stance slightly.

“What happens next?” Domenico asked.

“We wait for dawn,” Adrian said.

“Do you think they’ll leave then?” Thompson rolled his shoulders, looking from Adrian to the werewolf growling in the doorway. “Moonlight is their thing, right? Isn’t that what the myths say?”

“I wouldn’t trust myths if I were you,” Revenant replied.

“Werewolves are myths, though, aren’t they?” Thompson whispered.

“This one seems pretty damn real to me, Thompson.”

“Enough,” Adrian said. “Once the sun rises, we’ll leave. For now, everyone is on guard. No one leaves this room. Understand?”

The werewolf growled, snapping its teeth, but remained where it was.

“Where’s the witch?” Revenant asked.

“What?” Adrian turned, scanning the space. Sorcha was gone. “Thompson, did you see her? Domenico? Where did she go?”

The men shook their heads, and Revenant’s yellow eyes gleamed with malicious pleasure.

Somewhere beyond the walls, wolves snarled and howled—sounding as if a small army of creatures waited for them in the night. A piercing scream filled the air, climbing in pitch until it abruptly cut off, leaving tense silence behind.

They exchanged glances, wondering who it might have been. The werewolf standing in the door lifted its muzzle, sniffing the air, and then darted away.

“Was that the witch screaming?”

Adrian’s stomach dropped.

* * *

Sorcha ran out into the darkness of the inner temple beyond the room they’d been crowded in, panting and fighting the panic in her chest. Soon the torchlight was gone—the murmurs of the men faded—and overhead, the full moon was huge and bright. Sorcha felt as if it were hovering directly over her, leaning closer to get a better look.

Moss and tiny delicate ferns covered the stones of the passageway. The cool scent of water filled the air, and for an instant, she wanted to stop and find the spring, swallow mouthful after mouthful in an effort to cleanse the panic from her body, and ease the ache at the back of her throat.

Under different circumstances, she might have enjoyed this place. She would have walked through the ruins, stopping to touch the stone or admire a trembling frond, but in the dark, her heart pounded, and the cries of the wolves reverberated against the stone. As she wove deeper into the ruins, each desperate breath filled her head until nothing remained.

Sorcha hadn’t planned to run, there was truly no escape, but it had been instinct. The Wolf would follow. Or worse, Revenant. She shuddered at the thought of the two men on her heels. But one scared her more than the other. The Wolf might be a monster, but he was alive. There was nothing living in Revenant’s gaze.

There was something in the Wolf, a twisting knowledge that was slowly unfurling in her mind. When he looked at her, there was something beneath the vicious cold he exuded. A shred of humanity. Maybe she was fooling herself, maybe there was nothing left, or there had never been anything there in the first place. But the voice inside telling her otherwise was growing stronger.

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