Page 47 of Blood Bearon
“You’re going to wh—”
The centaur galloped up alongside the passenger side of the truck and ripped off the door. Khove lunged out before the huge beast could toss the weight aside and stabbed his dagger deep into the being’s torso, then forced it up under his second ribcage and into the tertiary heart.
Swinging back into a seated position as casually as if it was a regular move, he shook the dripping purple blood from the silvery blade and prepared for more.
“Khove? There are more of them,” Rachel said, her voice oddly distant.
“Just get us to the Manor!” he roared, the sound shocking her back to reality. “Those are my problem, okay? Not yours. You drive. I’ll fight.” He reached down to his other boot, withdrawing his second blade.
Reaching across, he forced it into her left hand. “Stab at anything that comes for your door.”
“Right. Of course.” She looked over at him suddenly as he started to move. “Where areyougoing to be?” she shouted.
“I’ll hold them off for as long as I can,” he said. “But I need room to work. There are a few tricks these bastards don’t know I have. But weneedto make it to the Manor. My people will protect us there. So don’t slow for anything, okay.”
“Khove what are you doing!” she shrieked as he smashed out the window behind them and started crawling through into the bed of the truck as creatures raced out of the darkness, easily keeping pace with the car.
This isn’t going to be good,” he muttered, ignoring the wind whipping at his face, looking at the sheer mass of Fae that Korred had unleashed this night.
All to kill little old him, and Rachel. Because of Khove’s arrogance, and reluctance to bring his weaponry into the town, it was all too likely that the crazed shifter would succeed.
The first Fae made it to the truck, hoofed paws reaching out to grip the lip of the bed, metal crumpling as the creature pulled itself up inside. Legs spread wide to balance himself, Khove studied the creature. Its upper body was that of a grossly-oversized buck, including antlers that stuck out wide to either side. But from just below the chest down, it was completely human. He’d never seen its like before.
What have you done, Korred?
The nearly seven-foot-tall creature came at him in complete silence. Not for the first time, Khove hated himself for not bringing his sword. It would have been easy to dispatch such a creature. Glancing down at the knife in his hand, he couldn’t help but wish it was longer. Six inches just wasn’t going to be enough tonight.
The truck bounced wildly as the Fae charged, and Khove shouted his anger at the situation, moving to meet it. They grappled, the hoofed paws pinching his skin painfully as it got a hold of his free hand.
“Khove! Stop playing around,” Rachel shouted from inside.
“I’m. Not,” he growled, twisting to drive his forearm into the creature’s throat.
The sudden blow to its airway stunned the faerie and Khove used his massive strength to whip his knife hand free and drive it deep into the midsection three times in the blink of an eye.
The Fae shrieked in pain, and then fell back into a pile of purple blood and goo as Khove slit its throat wide open, effectively banishing it back to its home realm.
Climbing cautiously to his feet, he watched as more of them approached from all sides. A few small satyrs were tossed about by the herd, slamming into the sides of the truck, shaking it. Rachel yelped in surprise, but kept herself focused on getting them out of town.
“I wish I had my sword,” he complained. “Why do you police have such silly laws?”
His humor didn’t seem to register. Looking in the rearview mirror, he saw that the focused glint had gone out of her eyes, replaced by muted acceptance of what was about to happen.
“Rachel?”
“We’re not going to make it, are we?” Rachel asked dully, voice barely audible from inside the cab as the Fae crowded closer on three sides.
“You’re probably right,” he admitted, trying not to sugarcoat it. “I got us killed.”
Rachel’s eyes flared as she looked over her shoulder at his admission of guilt, speaking up to be heard over the whistling air. “We’re not dead yet, Khove,” she snapped. “Keep it that way for as long as you can.”
He was nearly thrown to the bed of the truck as Rachel slammed the accelerator to the floor. The truck leapt forward and their wild headlong escape for freedom continued.
For now.
23
Plymouth Falls had never felt so big before.
