Page 22 of Crown of Tides and Fury

“I dinnae think these wee ones were added to the mix just to kill,” he finally said. “They have no defenses. I believe their point is to distract, so the big ones can do their worst.”

“Devious.” Wickham went into the kitchen and came back with a small bag of birdseed. Kitch took one last look out the window and held up a fist, then waved for Wickham to join him.

Walking down the middle of the street came a tall blond with curly hair—Orion. His billowing gold robes only partially obscured the squad of monsters in his wake. They were moving fast. No bloodsuckers in sight. They veered toward Jez’s house just as Wickham popped them out of there.

This time, they stood beside the blue truck, still parked between the rhododendrons. As soon as Kitch’s butt hit the seat, they popped out again, along with the truck. Now, they were sitting outside that house they’d passed on the way into town. The double pram sat in the yard, forgotten. The front door was closed. No sign of blood.

Kitch gave Wickham a look.

The man shrugged. “Cannae just leave them, can we?”

Kitch smirked. “So much for lettin’ them fend for themselves, eh?”

They got out of the truck, but Wickham made no move toward the house. “They ran from the sight of me, remember? Ye must make them see reason. And quickly. Orion can step out ofPlaceas well, remember. He shouldnae be able to trace us here, but we cannae be certain of anythin’.”

Kitch ran to the door. There was no time to choose careful words. He beat on the wood, tried the knob, but it was locked. He beat on the door again and kept beating until he heard a noise from inside.

“Go away!”

“Vicious bastards are comin’! If ye wish yer bairns to live, ye must come with us!”

A baby cried. He could hear the couple arguing, so he beat on the wood again.

“Stand back!” He raised his leg and kicked in the door. The pair stood five feet away. The man was shocked, the woman outraged. There was no time to placate them. “Ye can die as a family or live as one. But ye have thirty seconds to get in the truck, or the choice will be made for ye.” When they still hesitated, he tried one more time. “Ye may well be the last ones alive—”

“Move!” The woman grabbed her husband’s arm and headed down a hallway.

Kitch yelled after them. “Bring nothin’!”

Despite his warning, the woman came running with a large bag over her shoulder and a crying bairn in her arms, the husband on her heels, carrying the second babe. Kitch followed them out the door and across the lawn. Whilst Wickham stood guard, the wife scrambled into the cab. Her husband handed her the second child, closed her door, then climbed into the back with Kitch.

A rifle shot rang in the distance. More than a block, less than a mile. Then another.

Kitch exchanged a glance with Wickham. “There are more out there.”

Wickham shook his head. “We’ve got to get to Castle Ross!” He climbed behind the wheel.

“Nothin’ but disaster since ye became Grandfather,” the young mother said.

“True enough.” Wickham put the truck in gear.

Kitch warned the husband. “Whatever happens, keep a hold of the truck, do ye ken?” The man grabbed the side of the truck bed and held tight. But they didn’t pop out ofPlace. Instead, Wickham drove down the street, pumping his horn, scanning for any sign of life…

Like an ice cream truck…offering salvation.

* * *

Kitch heldonto the corner of the truck bed and searched the houses and yards they passed. Every few seconds, he looked through the cab windows to see what was coming. If the blaring horn brought the monsters down on them, they’d have to pop out and leave the rest of Muirsglen to their doom. They wouldn’t be able to fight much of a mob whilst trying to defend their passengers.

Trolling along the streets in silence wouldn’t help anyone. Wickham was right to use his horn. If there were people cowering in their houses, they needed a reason to come out. They needed hope.

Kitch’s biggest hope, though, was that the village was already deserted.

A woman screamed. The honking stopped. The truck slowed. Out from between two houses, a man came running, followed by a woman and another man. They found the truck and made a beeline for it. The first fellow jumped in the back and held his hand down to help the woman. The last man hesitated, turned back.

The woman shouted, “Donny, leave him! He’s done for!”

Donny shook his head, blew her a kiss, and disappeared between cars. By the time the truck passed the driveway, a pair of creatures were headed to intercept him. He turned back and waved us away.

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